in the evenings, Rush Valley was bustling with customers who were heading back to their own jobs and townspeople coming home from shopping. Winry wove through the crowd as she rushed straight to the wholesale merchant who normally helped her.
“Mr. Mandel!”
“Oh, why, if it isn’t Winry. What brings you here?”
Mandel gazed down at Winry, curious after she had burst in through the door and ran up to the counter, out of breath. He asked, “Is there something you need a rush on?”
Winry caught her breath as she nodded and pulled the parts and note out of her pocket.
“Oh, now those have taken a beating,” Mandel said. He picked up a flattened screw from among the parts on the counter and scrutinized it.
“I need replacements for these parts—slicing blades, a number C-1 screw, a number 77 spring washer, an A-8 anchor bolt …” Winry recited the names and numbers of the parts she had brought to make sure there would be no mistakes, jotting down a list on the spot.
Normally, she would start up some small talk with Mandel, since she knew him pretty well, but right now, with thoughts of the broken machine weighing heavily on her, all she was capable of was making the pen race across the paper as she prayed she could collect all the parts.
It seemed that Mandel sensed Winry’s desperation from how silent Winry was as she moved the pen. He didn’t strike up any additional chitchat as he headed to the back of the shop where the stock was kept.
“Let’s see. You need ten, twenty … twenty-eight in total, it looks like. Seems like I have all the screws.”
Winry followed Mandel’s back as he meandered back and forth in front of a shelf. She clenched her fists on the countertop as she tensely stared at him.
“There, thanks for waiting,” he said after a while. He had lined up about sixty percent of the parts she had asked him for. “Sorry. This is all I’ve got right now. I should be able to order the rest tomorrow, but if you’re in a hurry, I think you ought to try other places. Still, I’m not so sure that this will be available in this town.”
Mandel tapped one of the parts she had listed. It was the unique cylinder Weis had told her about.
“I’m the only shop that deals with this manufacturer, so your best option if you need it today is to go to the junk shops.”
“I understand. Then please let me pay for these things.”
“Huh? I’ll send you a bill later, so it’s fine,” Mandel said, surprised to see Winry pulling out her own change purse to pay. He would normally bill Atelier Garfiel for all the parts at the end of the month.
“No, please let me pay today.”
“You sure?”
Mandel seemed dubious as he told her the total bill, but Winry paid, took the receipt, and immediately left the shop while thanking him.
The sky had been clear just earlier, but it was starting to gray as clouds formed. She didn’t have time to worry about the weather.
“Twelve left!”
She clutched her package of parts as she opened the door to another wholesale shop. Then, after leaving just a few minutes later, she headed to the junk shop across the street. She repeated that process several times, gradually collecting what she needed.
“Three left!”
After leaving another shop that was pretty far from Atelier Garfiel, Winry ran without pause to find the remaining parts. Sweat dripped from her forehead, attracting dust that then smeared across her face.
Eventually the sun set and the clock’s bell tolled seven times, and in a sign as clear as the bell, neon signs began to switch on and glow throughout town. The stores along the main road would still be open for about another hour, but the other shops would soon be getting ready to pack up.
Winry quickly headed into the closest junk shop. The shelves that lined the cramped shop were piled with broken automail, dust-covered tools, and various machine parts.
As she carefully walked past shelves that seemed like they could collapse at any moment, Winry picked out promising iron scraps one after the other and then replaced them before dragging out yet another part.
“This isn’t it. This one isn’t either. This one is broken.”
Though the parts were broken, they were still merchandise. In order to avoid getting them dirty, she would wipe her oily, dusty hands with a towel, but after touching the parts her hands would immediately blacken again.
The remaining three parts included the cylinder she had been told she likely wouldn’t find, and two springs that would be used by the driving mechanism. Those were things she could not substitute with another manufacturer’s parts. Once she finished searching a shelf, she next stuck her hand into a box in the corner.
“I-I found them!”
She wiped away the sweat trickling down her forehead as she pulled her prizes out of the box. She had found the two springs among other unfamiliar machine parts. They were slightly contorted and rusted, but they were easily usable if she polished them up.
Now all she had left was the cylinder. She prayed she would find it as she used a screwdriver to open up and peer into the ruined remains of what appeared to have been automail. She did the same for other parts, including a hunk of metal that might have once been part of a larger tool. However, she didn’t find any additional windfalls, and still hadn’t found the part in the end.
She returned the last part to the scrap iron container, paid for the springs, and went outside to find it had started raining at some point. The sky had fully darkened.
She stuck the exposed springs she had just bought, as well as her other bags, into the largest of the bags. Then she removed the top of her overalls, untucked the shirt she was wearing underneath, and covered the bag of parts with her shirt.
“Hopefully they won’t get wet this way,” she said, holding the parts she had collected to her stomach. Winry immediately jogged to the next shop.