Hagane no Renkinjutsushi - Volume 6 - Chapter 1

A NEW BEGINNING

PARCHED WINDS SWEPT ALONG the mountain range. Sunlight bathed the rocky terrain, producing a heat that made the air shimmer. This was the south of Amestris, where the town of Rush Valley lay.

The town, having made a name for itself within Amestris for its steel industry, was frequented daily by travelers and merchants who came and left by way of steam locomotive. However, even the congested station temporarily regained a sense of peacefulness after each train departed.

The station roof shadowed the deserted platform after one such departure. In a corner of the platform, a lone girl spoke over a phone.

“Uh-huh, that’s right. Ed and Al are going to Dublith. I’m about to head to the place I was told to apprentice at.”

The girl seemed familiar with whoever she was on the phone with. A smile occasionally flitted across her face as she spoke, her wide blue eyes blinking in delight and her long blond ponytail swaying. As she chatted away, her silver earrings glinted with all the bright charm that the girl herself emitted. Wearing those sparkling earrings and a short black skirt with a white camisole, she was the very image of a girl with a sunny disposition.

“Uh-huh, yeah. I will. It’ll be fine … You too, Granny. Okay then, I’ll call you later.”

After smiling for the person on the other end of the receiver, the girl—Winry Rockbell—hung up the phone.

“I wonder how far their train has gone,” Winry said, staring at the rails stretching out from the platform—the rails that had carried the departing train she had just seen off.

“Next time you can make me a better one of these!”

Those had been her childhood friend Edward’s parting words to her as he leapt onto the train with his little brother, Alphonse. He had pointed at his arm as he spoke. Edward, whose right arm and left leg were automail, and Alphonse, who had a suit of steel armor in place of a flesh-and-blood body, had started a journey several years prior in search of a way to regain their original bodies. Winry, an automail mechanic, had always supported the siblings from the sidelines. Ever since she lost her doctor parents when she was young, she had been raised by her grandmother Pinako, who was also an automail mechanic. Winry had been doing automail maintenance in her hometown, Resembool, for as long as she could remember.

However, Winry was standing at Rush Valley’s station at the moment, which was a long way from the place she had been born and raised.

“Winry, how about we get going?” A voice called to her from the ticket gate.

Paninya, a friend from Rush Valley who had come with Winry to see Edward and Alphonse off, waved at her. The brothers were the reason Winry was in Rush Valley in the first place. She had wanted to improve her skills so that she could create even better automail in order to help them regain their original bodies, even if just a day sooner. Because of that, she had decided to train in Rush Valley.

She would be living a new life in an unfamiliar town and training away from family. From this point forward, everything would be a new experience.

Black smoke rose high into the sky in the distance, from where the rails traced a loose curve and disappeared into the mountainous terrain. A thought flitted through Winry’s mind. 

Maybe that’s the train they’re on.

The thought proved that she wasn’t immune to melancholy, but the emotion faded quickly as she watched the smoke dissipate into the azure of the sky. In the melancholy’s place, her chest overflowed with anticipation about what she would learn in the course of her apprenticeship.

“All right, time for me to get to work too!” she encouraged herself. Then, with a skip in her step, Winry headed over to the ticket gate where Paninya waited.

“WHOA, THAT’S BRIGHT!”

The blinding sunlight the south of Amestris was known for welcomed Winry as she left the station. When she raised her hand to her forehead to block out the sun’s rays and see where she was going, she was able to make out a towering, bare rock face.

The mountains encircling Rush Valley contained a wealth of mineral deposits. Traces of mining scarred the rock faces, but the ores within had yet to be exhausted.

Though those ores had many uses, in this town they were primarily used for prosthetics. With the exception of assistive devices that supported physical movement, limb-replacement prostheses were divided into two broad categories. One was automail, a type of prosthesis that the user had full control of through the electrical impulses of their terminal nerve endings. The other consisted of ordinary artificial limbs made from steel and wood. Because of a large-scale civil war that had broken out nearly a decade prior, prosthetics engineering had advanced, which had brought about Rush Valley’s rapid expansion into a large town.

The town, hailed as “the Boomtown of the Broken Down” and “the Mechanic’s Mecca,” was packed with rows of prosthetics shops. Studios had even been built in the cramped flat spaces that were few and far between within the surrounding rugged mountains. The streets overflowed with boisterous crowds, their voices making a general hubbub.

Paninya, a Rush Valley native, slipped through the throng with learned ease. She turned to look back at Winry.

“You left your stuff at the hotel, right? How about we grab that before heading to the shop?”

“Okay. Let’s please do that.”

“Then there’s a shortcut over here.”

Paninya, who had volunteered to lead Winry to her apprenticeship, put her hands together behind her back and lightly skipped forward. Both her legs were automail and, unknown to observers, contained a cannon and a blade. Her automail, which required a skilled hand to create, had been made by Dominic, the man who had introduced Winry to the place where she would be studying.

Rush Valley was teeming with other mechanics just as fantastically skilled as Dominic. Those very mechanics were flourishing their wrenches in front of their shops to show off, occasionally shouting solicitations.

“Welcome, welcome! The Junk Shop is having a sale for a limited time only!”

“You there, sir, passing by! Won’t you trade up to the latest in automail? I’ll whip up any order you can think of!”

“We’ll give you a free estimate! We even offer loans!”

Automail and run-of-the-mill prosthetics shops weren’t the only offerings—there were junk shops and loan establishments, as well as painters making a living by creating signs for the businesses. Any way you looked at it, the town revolved around prosthetics.

As a matter of course, customers gathered in droves. They came from all over Amestris to haggle in front of the shops, stipulate their orders to the mechanics in great detail, and obtain the prostheses of their dreams. The entire town of Rush Valley buzzed with the enthusiasm of both the buyers and the sellers.

“Wow …”

Though Winry had walked through the town with Edward and Alphonse before, she was once again overcome by the passionate energy filling the place. Struck with admiration, she was swept away by the crowds she had yet to grow accustomed to. Several kids ran past her.

“Miss, outta the way! Outta the way!” 

“Oh, sorry.” Winry quickly dodged them. When she looked at where they were headed, she saw a crowd forming in a vacant lot. She glanced over to see a weightlifting competition in progress between people with automail arms. Bets were being taken on the strength of each participant’s automail. The event felt like a natural fit for a town that revolved around automail, and the lot was bustling with spectating children, contestants waiting their turns, and mechanics waiting for an opportunity to coax the losers into having their broken-down arms serviced at their shops.

“Whoa, what kind of material do you think that automail’s sheathing is made from?” Winry pondered, slowing down to take in the fascinating scene. While trying to catch a glimpse of the competition through the gaps in the crowd, she felt something abruptly bump into her.

“Ah!”

“Oh!”

A boy, about twelve or thirteen years old, had run into her. The boy had apparently been distracted by the competition too and hadn’t noticed Winry passing right in front of him when he stepped out from a side road. They’d barely run into each other, but the impact had sent the boy reeling backward.

“Oh, careful!”

When Winry shot out her hand to catch him, she saw a crutch nestled under the boy’s left armpit and a prosthesis peeking out from the right leg of his green shorts.

A kind-looking woman who seemed to be his mother immediately ran up to him from behind.

“I’m so sorry. Apparently he wasn’t looking where he was going. You’re not injured, are you?” said the woman, bowing her head apologetically. She wore a dress and a cropped jacket and carried a small, sleeping girl on her back.

“I’m okay. I was distracted too. I’m sorry. Did you get hurt?” Winry asked, feeling guilty for her inattentiveness. The boy shook his head.

“I’m sorry for running into you too,” he murmured, then pulled away from Winry’s hand, which had been keeping him steady. He adjusted his crutch and left. The woman bowed, then followed after the boy.

“You don’t want to look at the shops on that street?” the woman asked.

“No …”

“Really? Then let’s find other good places to go.”

The sound of their conversation and the crutch hitting the hard ground slowly faded away.

When Winry looked down the road that the boy had come from, she saw a line of many shops sporting large signs and boards featuring sales pitches. The boy had likely been looking for a place that could service his prosthetic leg or replace it with automail.

“What’s up? Did you want to make a stop at one of the shops?” asked Paninya. She’d been walking ahead of Winry, but had backtracked when Winry had trailed significantly behind.

“Not really.”

After Winry drew her attention away from the side street, she quickly caught up to Paninya.

A winning point of Rush Valley was the abundance of businesses that customers could choose from. Winry was sure the boy would find a good shop on his own.

On the other hand, it was a tough world for the vendors, but that was why mechanics wouldn’t forgo any effort to stand out. Friendly rivalry had incentivized the town to flourish, which meant that studying here would fully immerse a mechanic in state-of-the-art techniques. There was no better place Winry could have chosen to go to improve her skills.

As Winry’s spirits mounted, she asked Paninya, who walked next to her, about the place she would be training at. “So, what’s Atelier Garfiel like?”

“Hmm, right.” Paninya put her pointer finger up to her chin and gave a thoughtful look in reaction to Winry’s brimming curiosity. “I’ve never gotten serviced there, but based on how it looks from the outside …”

Paninya seemed to recall something as she held her finger up and grinned. “It’s a real jaw-dropper, I suppose.”

“A jaw-dropper how?”

“You’ll know once you get there.” Paninya suppressed a laugh. She cast a sidelong glance at Winry, who looked dubious, as she quickly walked ahead. 

“Oh, wait up.” Winry followed after Paninya, puzzling over her words. According to Dominic, the place she was going to had wanted help as soon as they could get it. They’d accepted her with open arms. In that case, she could only assume it was a jaw-droppingly busy shop—or that they would demand jaw-dropping quality from her.

Regardless of which it was, the skills she’d acquire through studying there would be certain to make jaws drop at home.

When she thought about it like that, Winry got a spring in her step. After she collected her things from the hotel, her heart was aflutter with anticipation as she and Paninya headed to the shop.

After a twenty-minute walk, Paninya announced, “This is it!”

When Paninya grinned and pointed out a building, Winry’s eyes went wide.

She beheld a gigantic—nay, mammoth—sign. She’d seen several other signs outfitted with flashy lights or twisted bits of steel on the way. She’d even seen establishments featuring bold writing and slogans boasting about their techniques. However, the sign in front of her eyes was nothing like any of those. 

The sign that read “Atelier Garfiel” was written with script accentuated here and there by charming roses and leaves. An even larger rose had been painted next to the studio’s name. To top it all off, it was all in pink.

Flowing green curves had been used to represent the vines that complemented the flower. The petals blooming on the sign were beautifully set off by two leaves that were detailed down to their veins. Because of its elegant and cutesy design, Winry had almost mistaken the workshop for a florist.

“Whoa.” Winry’s jaw literally dropped.

Between the earthen tones of the mountains, the dull luster of the automail, and the abundance of male mechanics, Rush Valley had a somewhat rough-and-tumble image, yet here was a single rose blooming in the center of the town—a truly jaw-dropping sight.

“See—it’s jaw-dropping, right? Well, good luck! I’ll come by to let you know when I’ve found some work too!” Paninya gave Winry, who was half in a daze, a pat of encouragement on her back.

“Yeah. Thank you. Good luck to you too, Paninya.”

After she watched Paninya nimbly dash off, Winry stood under the sign in front of the garage-like studio. She peered into the shop in the hopes of greeting the owner, but it seemed that she had arrived right at rush hour. Several customers were waiting their turn, and she couldn’t figure out who this Garfiel character was.

“Um, Mr. Dominic sent me here to apprentice! I’m Winry Rockbell!” she yelled into the shop somewhat loudly. 

A rugged voice about half an octave higher than she expected responded. “Just a moment, please!”

It seemed that Garfiel was further back in the studio, likely in another room.

She’d heard from Dominic that the proprietor was a man, but the shop seemed dainty and had an almost feminine atmosphere. Based on that, Winry simply assumed that Garfiel would be a thin and petite androgynous man.

Eventually, a figure appeared from the very back of the shop.

“Sorry for the wait.”

A beaming man came out, wiping his oil-smeared hands as he made his way over to her. He was giant—hulking, even—with a healthy helping of hair on his arms and chest.

He had paired a black tank top with black pants and suspenders. He also sported a mustache and a beard. His short hair was cropped tightly to his head, but his sideburns made neat curls on his cheeks.

No matter what angle she looked at him from, the rugged, unquestionably masculine man was the polar opposite of the rosy sign and the gender-neutral image she had assumed.

There was one aspect of him that did seem androgynous to Winry, if she had to comment. Those were his pursed red lips. It almost looked as though he were wearing lipstick. When she looked more closely, it seemed he indeed was wearing lipstick.

The man placed his hand on his mouth and said in a rough but elegant voice, “Oh my, are you Winry? Why, what a cute girl you are! I’m Garfiel, the owner of this shop. It’s so very nice to meet you.”

She could almost hear him follow up his remark with a girlish heart. He also winked.

For a moment, Winry was so captivated by his elegant and charming mannerisms that she was rendered speechless, but she came back to her senses and quickly bowed. “I-it’s nice to meet you!”

Flustered, Winry had to admit that Garfiel, the studio’s proprietor, was a real jaw-dropper.