Searching For More

Winry gazed out the window, watching the scenery go by. She had always loved train rides because they were a rare treat for her. She found it almost comforting to watch the world go by—colors swirling together.

Winry turned her attention to her travel-mate, asking: "So, why did you pick East City as our first stop?" Honestly, she wanted to ask Marie about their whole itinerary, but when she asked about it before they stepped on the train all she got was a 'you'll see' and a mischievous grin.

"We'll I heard there's a festival going on, so why not?" Marie replied. She leafed through a notepad she had been scrawling on before they boarded. "It's tomorrow, so we'll just chill tonight and hit the city tomorrow."

"Sounds fun! What about after that?"

Marie smirked. "I see what you're trying to do. I told you I'm not telling you the location until we board the train. Live each day one at a time will ya?"

Winry pouted, curiosity burning inside of her. She knew Marie was just trying to give her a nice trip, but she really wanted to know the whole plan. Maybe she could peak inside Marie's notebook later. Winry relaxed back, feeling that she had sound strategy. "Do you feel comfortable going to East City?"

Marie's pen paused over the notepad. "I'll be wearing sunglasses. Now, if my hair was silver we'd be having a different conversation."

Blue eyes narrowed. "That didn't really answer the question."

"I mean, I think I'll be okay. I'm purposely putting myself in a potentially uncomfortable situation so it is, what it is."

I guess that's why she's going on this trip anyway. In order to see what's out there, you have to leave your comfort zone. Winry reflected, watching her friend return her attention to her notepad. It's amazing that her sunglasses are what stands between acceptance and pain.

They rode in comfortable silence, both lost in thought until they arrived in East City around 6pm. Banners and lights were being set up for the festival—the city buzzing with excitement. The hotel they choose was a modest one a block or two from the train station, and close enough the main festivities. They quickly checked into their room—a standard living space with two beds and a bathroom.

"I'm going to wash up a bit before we find something to eat. Your search for a guy might be over, but mine isn't." Marie smirked at Winry's fuming reaction as she closed the bathroom door behind her.

"The nerve of that girl!" Winry huffed, plopping down on her bed. Her annoyance quickly melted as she spotted Marie's backpack on the bed. Quietly, she leaned over to tug it into her lap and unzipped it—pulling out the first notebook that she spotted. It was a simple black notebook that had Marie's name written in cursive letters on the cover: Marie A. Lance.

I wonder what her middle name is, Winry pondered, inspecting the cover. This wasn't the notepad her travel mate had been writing in the whole way; this looked more like a diary. She placed the notebook pack inside and fished around for the notepad. With a satisfied hum, she pulled it out and was surprised to read: I swear Winry if you read past this first page I will hit you with your own wrench. I'm keeping the locations a surprise for a reason. Trust me a little, okay?

Winry sighed, sliding the notepad back into the backpack and placing it back onto Marie's bed. If it meant that much to Marie to surprise her then so be it. She tried to look at natural as possible when Marie stepped out of the bathroom—changed into fitted black pants and forest green blouse. If Marie noticed her backpack tampered she didn't show it. She simply waited for Winry to wash—the blond changing into another black skirt and white top. They made their way to a café across the street and enjoyed a small meal.

"They really go all out for this festival," Marie commented, watching as the hanging lights were turned on when dusk set in.

"Seems like it. I saw them setting up tents and game booths," Winry replied, stirring some honey into her tea. "The summer festival in Resembool looks tiny compared to this."

"Resembool has festivals?"

"Technically it's the summer sheep festival, but there are a ton of games and people bring food for everyone to share."

"That's so cool!" Marie grinned, eyes wide behind her sunglasses. "Can you tell me about it?"

Winry chuckled at her friend's excitement. "Well, I used to go every year and Granny usually brought her stew and corn bread. Even though it's the middle of summer, people still ate it until the pot was empty. The kids would play kick-ball and there would be pie eating contests." Winry laughed as a memory surfaced. "One year, Ed won the junior eating contest, but then puked for the rest of the night."

The two laughed until their sides hurt—not caring about the odd looks they were getting from other patrons. Winry told her more about summers in Resembool where festivals brought the village together and the different troubles the Elric brothers would get into.

"Did you go to any festivals growing up?" The look of discomfort of her friend's face was a good enough answer. "I-I mean, well-!"

"No, no it's fine!" Marie replied with a forced smile. "It's a normal question really. It's just…no, I grew so displaced that there wasn't any time for them."

"Right…" Winry muttered, wishing she could take her question back.

"Hey, stop that I'm not mad," Marie admonished. She tapped the blond's hand to get her attention before flashing a smile. "I swear I'm not."

Winry believed her, but that didn't stop her from feeling bad. They picked up the conversation from there—having lighter conversation as they walked back to the hotel for the night. The room was humid from the sticky night air and with no air condition in sight left them unable to sleep for the better part of the night.

"Hey Winry," Came Marie's sleepy voice in the dark room. "Can you tell me more about your home town?"

Winry didn't mind. If anything, maybe she could distract them from the hot air so they could go to sleep. "What do you want to know?"

Marie paused, and Winry had a feeling it was going to be a loaded question. Marie's voice was so quiet she almost missed the question: "If you want…can you tell me about your family?"

That was a question that she had never been asked. Those who knew her had already heard the story second-hand or grew up with her. Why her friend wanted to know was beyond her, but Winry knew she could give her a surface level answer without getting too emotional. "Well, I'm an only child and I grew up with my mom, dad, and grandmother. My parents were doctors and my grandmother is an automail mechanic. I'd spend hours with her where I learned how to be a mechanic. My parents ran a clinic out of the house as well, so I've been around medicine and machinery all my life. Part of me wishes I grew up with sibling, but honestly the Elric brothers were enough." Winry checked to make sure Marie was awake before continuing. "My parents were great. They were honest and always wanted to make sure the people around them were happy. They wanted to save lives and heal people. Granny does that too by being an engineer, so I guess it just runs in the family."

"That's so cool," Marie replied, her voice slow with exhaustion. "I'm glad you have those memories."

Winry listened to Marie drift off to sleep while she told her childhood stories. Of when her parents where alive and they spent time together. Of when they would go fishing and hiking. She rarely thought about her childhood, because it brought so many emotions up, but tonight it didn't hurt as much. And she was okay with that.

[Next Day]

The teenagers took the opportunity to sleep in the next morning—a rare event that they seized without protest. When noon rolled around they decided to get the day started—changing and heading out into the packed street. The sun blazed as children ran from booth to booth with their parents and the smell of greasy food hung in the air.

"I didn't expect this many people," Marie muttered, pushing up her green framed sunglasses. The sweat trickling down her nose kept making them slip—making her self-conscious.

"Me neither," Winry mused, looking at the sea of people from their spot on a bench. "Then again this is a festival in the middle of a city. We should have known." Winry stood up, determination shining in her eyes. "Well, let's go!"

"Go where?"

"Where else? Let's go win some prizes!" She snatched up Marie's wristed and hauled her to her feet, ignoring the surprised yelp. "Watch out your glasses are slipping."

Marie followed Winry into the crowed, in awe of the colors and sights. The pair stopped to watch a magician for a few minutes, mesmerized by his card tricks and illusions. They soon moved on to watch the pie eating contest, and then tried their hand at throwing a ball just right to plunge a man into a tank of water.

"Are you sure you don't want to play?" Marie pressed for the second time, picking up the toy gun. The task was simple: try to hit four targets with the toy sniper and win a prize—Marie thought she could handle that.

Winry clutched the strap of her purse trying to keep her smile as natural as possible. "I'm a terrible shot. I'll just watch you!"

Marie raised an eyebrow, but turned and played the game without further questioning. Winry breathed a sigh of relief—trying to shake the memory of the last time she held a gun. She still couldn't believe how close she had come to shooting Scar…and how Scar gave her a free pass to do so. Every fiber in her body wanted to put a bullet in that man's chest, but she froze. Ed had pealed the gun out of her hands, saying: "Your hands were meant to give life, not take it." Maybe so, but that didn't change that fact that if she had a gun in her hands she might use it to take a life out of revenge.

"Winry?" Her shoulders involuntarily tensed when the red eyes behind green sunglasses stared at her. "You look really pale….well paler then normal. Do you want to go sit down?"

Winry nodded numbly, letting Marie lead her through the crowed and to a bench. She darted off to get some water—disappearing into the crowd once more.

What's wrong with me? She asked herself, leaning back into the bench. I'm on vacations, I shouldn't be dealing with this. She gazed down at her hands—calloused from hours of working on metal parts. Hands that come close to taking a life. She briefly thought that maybe it was equivalent exchange: Scars life for her parents. But, even if Scar were to die her parents would never come back.

"Here." Marie ordered her to drink the water, shoving the bottle into her hands. "I guess we have been out here for a while. This heat makes it easy to get dehydrated."

"Thanks," Winry said, after chugging half of the water.

"No problem, just let me know when you don't feel well. You looked like you were about to pass out."

"Right, sorry." And she meant it. She never wanted Marie to worry over her. "You looked like you were having fun, so I didn't want to stop you."

Marie rolled her eyes. "I didn't even win anything. Believe me, I wasn't having that much fun." She looked down at her watch: 4 o'clock. "Ready to eat?"

Now hydrated and in a better state of mind, Winry followed her friend to get food. It was greasy, but just want she wanted to eat after an emotional moment. Marie didn't question her quietness, which Winry was grateful for. She wasn't ready to talk about what happened in Central.

"Did you have fun today?" Marie asked once they returned to the hotel. They had showered and were sitting on their beds, facing each other as they got ready for bed—Marie braided her hair and Winry polished a few of her tools.

Winry pondered over the question for a moment. Besides having flashbacks of Scar and that gun, she had a good day. The festival was fun and she enjoyed hanging out with Marie and being a regular teen. "I did! I thought the magician was really cool."

"Me too!" Marie replied. "Though I think he cheated on the card tricks."

"Oh he totally did. I could see the extra cards up his sleeves!"

These were the memories that Winry would cherish. Laughing with one of her friends about the silly things they had seen at a festival. How many had the chance to travel around without a care in the world? Well…her childhood best friends traveled all the time, but it was far from a vacation.

Marie watched as her friend grew quiet, her polishing becoming a mindless activity. "Hey," she called, gaining her friend's attention. She crossed the room to get her backpack—plucking out a red covered notebook. "I don't know if you're the journaling type, but it's something that helps me when I'm stressed or just can't seem to get my thoughts in order."

Winry clutched the notebook that was placed in her hands—her name written in cursive on the cover: Winry Rockbell.

"I don't know your middle name so you can put in a middle initial later," Marie commented, sitting on Winry's bed with her own notebook. "I have a hard time connecting certain emotions and why things make me feel certain ways. When I write it out, sometimes things start making sense."

Winry flipped through the blank lined pages. Out of all the things Marie could give her, she was not expecting a notebook. She hadn't kept a diary since she was a child—stopping after her parent's death. But, maybe she'd start again to see if it helped her connect some dots. "Thank you. I do have a lot on my mind so maybe it'll help." She flashed her a smile, "And I don't have a middle name so it's okay." Blue eyes glanced over to Marie's notebook cover: "What's your middle name?"

"Aiyasha," Marie responded, gazing down at the notebook.

"Pretty," Winry commented.

Marie stood up to place her notebook on the nightstand and crawl into her own bed. "Whenever you wanna talk I'm here."

"Thanks."

Winry moved to turn off the room's main lights and turn the desk light on—sitting down with the first page of the notebook open. She knew she was an emotional person—tears always finding a way to leak down her face. Usually she knew why she was crying—often seeing other people in pain caused them to spring up or not feeling that she was doing enough. Lately though she couldn't place her emotions. She'd be angry, but not exactly know why and her busy schedule enabled her to push her struggles aside. Now, without the flow of work she was left to face what she had pushed into corners.

Entry 1:

Journaling is weird. I never thought I'd do it again after the age of seven, but here we are today. I'm in East City on vacation and I'm journaling about the problems that should be left at home. Today was a good day too! Sure, I got a little moody after that gun thing but Marie kept me going. She has a knack for pushing me to have fun even when I would rather go sit down in a corner.

…also I can't believe a freaking toy gun made me feel like that. Anger and sadness…though maybe it was a little more than that. It was the person holding the gun. All I saw were red eyes and a gun. I still haven't gotten over the fact that I almost killed a man…a man with the same red eyes as Marie. It's not her fault, she has no clue about what happened that day in Central, but…what I would give to see that man suffer.

Scar…the Ishvalan War…they took my parents away from me.

Winry paused to brush the tears away from her eyes before looking down to read what she wrote. It was a short entry, but that's all she could get herself to write. Instead of dwelling on the darkening thoughts, she closed the notebook and stashed into her backpack. They had a long day tomorrow wherever they were going and she was determined to make the best out of it.

Fine, let weird emotions come, she thought as got into bed emotionally exhausted. But I'm still going to have fun regardless.

[Author's Corner]

~ I noticed a discrepancy in the last chapter about Marie's automail leg and just wanted to state that her left leg is the one with automail. I'll probably go and edit that later. Thanks for reading!