Darish didn’t seem to have more to say after spilling his guts to her a few days earlier—he leaned on the counter and remained silent. He no longer looked so dubious of Winry’s intentions. She couldn’t tell if that was because he was willing to hear her out or if it was because he had already lost interest in what she had to say, so she earnestly continued, saying, “I’ve started to see smiles on my clients’ faces more often. I think that’s because you showed me where I was wrong, Darish. So I’d like you to let me look at your leg again, if possible. I won’t force you, of course, but if you feel like you’d be willing to talk with me again, please come by the shop. This time I’ll make sure I’m listening to you.”
Once she had told him exactly how she felt, Winry bobbed her head one more time. Then she gave Lettie, who was looking puzzled, a tender pat on the head and turned away.
Winry didn’t look back as she walked off. The sound of mechanics hammering away and shopworkers soliciting customers surrounded her. There were plenty of mechanics around and she was just one of those many. She prayed for Darish to choose her again from among all those others as she quickly climbed the steep hill to Milia’s house.
She didn’t think that a single conversation was enough to bring Darish to forgive her. However, if she got one more chance, she would work incredibly hard in order to not let him down again. The last thing she wanted was to hear him say “I knew it’d never happen.” She once again resolved to make every effort she could for her clients and to spend even more time than ever before on her work.
But taking on everything in that way would inevitably come with strain. Had she been an experienced adult, she might have been able to find balance, but at fifteen years old, Winry only knew how to throw her entire self at a problem.
Slowly but surely, though Winry was unaware, the toll of taking on too much had compounded.
with milia’s gratitude and smile still fresh in her mind, Winry rounded the corner to the studio.
“Winry!”
When she searched for the person who had called her name, Winry found an older man standing on the other side of the road.
“Mr. Pollack?”
Pollack, whose right eye was automail, was a regular at Atelier Garfiel. He had been leaving maintenance up to Winry more recently.
“Hello!” Winry greeted him with a light bow like she always did whenever she passed a familiar face on the road, but this time her politeness was met with Pollack calling to stop her in a somewhat rude tone. “Hey, Winry, haven’t you got something to say to me?”
“Huh?”
The normally mild-mannered Pollack looked irate. Winry tried to think of what he could have meant or what she could have done to cause that look on his face, but nothing immediately came to mind.
Then Pollack beckoned Winry forward, looking peeved as he did. When she crossed the road, Pollack glared at her with his automail eye.
“How could you do that? You were the one who told me to come by the shop at four, weren’t you?”
“Oh!” Once he told her that, Winry finally remembered. “I-I’m sorry!”
Several days prior, Pollack had told Atelier Garfiel that his eye was acting odd and Winry had accepted his servicing request. Since Pollack ran a general store, he could only leave his shop for a limited time, so he had scheduled an appointment in advance. However, the appointment had completely slipped Winry’s mind.
Despite her flustered apology, the hard look remained on Pollack’s face.
“I came to the shop on time, but then Garfiel told me you’d just gone out and wouldn’t be back for a while. You put me in a real pickle.”
She hadn’t just forgotten the appointment, but to her great shame, had also revealed that she’d only remembered it just now, when he had reminded her. Pollack’s anger was only natural.
“Luckily, Mr. Garfiel was free, so he looked at it for me instead,” Pollack said.
“I’m so sorry!” Winry could only bow her head in earnest apology.
“Really now,” Pollack frowned. “It’s your skills I’ve put my trust into, so make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Though Pollack still looked upset, it seemed Winry’s repentance had gotten through to him.
“Yes, I’ll be more careful,” Winry said, her head still lowered.
“I’m counting on it. See you.”
Immediately after Pollack disappeared into the crowd, Winry held her head in her hands and scolded herself, “What am I even doing?! I’ve got to get it together.”
Gshk GSHK-KREEEEEEE!
The strange, tempestuous shriek of metal grinding against metal filled the air. An intense sound like a crash of thunder shocked the people talking in the street into silence. Those working in the neighborhood paused their work to see what was happening.
“What’s that sound?” she wondered.
Winry, who had covered both her ears with her hands, looked all around for the source of the racket. Then she saw that the people passing by the front of Atelier Garfiel were calling into the studio, asking, “You all right?”
“Huh?!” Winry exclaimed. Winry let go of her ears and went into the shop.
“Mr. Garfiel!” she shouted.
When Winry rushed inside, she saw Garfiel along with Henrik and Weis, her colleagues. The three of them were around the new machine that they had just bought a few days ago. The strange sound had stopped, but a burning smell permeated throughout the atelier.
“Oh, Winry,” said Garfiel, turning toward her as he stood in front of the machine. She had never seen him look so grave. “Did you make sure to take care of this machine last night?”
He wasn’t asking so much as confirming something.
“Yes, I did, like I always do,” she answered.
Garfiel had left this useful, but somewhat touchy, machine’s maintenance to Winry. After the job she had taken the night before, she had finished servicing it like usual, and she couldn’t remember anything happening that would have caused Garfiel to specifically ask her about it. However, the unusually serious look in Garfiel’s eyes and the way Henrik and Weis were looking so stonily at the machine shook Winry.