Winry Rockbell sat on the front porch steps of her grandmother's house, her hand clutching the end of an umbrella. It was raining rather hard; apparently, a storm was passing by the East, which was quite rare for landlocked Amestris. The weather seemed to coincide with Winry's heart today though; her expression was far from cheery and sunny as she usually was.
Earlier that day, she received a call from the Fullmetal Alchemist, her childhood friend, Edward Elric. It seems he had broken his automail again, and he needed it fixed right away. Ed, you idiot. Winry thought as she looked out over the path leading to their house. Suddenly, in the distance, a lone figure came into view. Winry straightened up as the figure became more distinguished—it was Alphonse, and in his metal arms was his older brother. She ran up to the brothers, holding up her umbrella to shield them from the rain.
"Idiots!" Winry raged as she threw a towel at Edward's head. "You get yourselves into fights and break your automail, then you come running here soaked in rain. Really, you two are so…" she trailed off and sighed, not bothering to finish her sentence. Al mumbled apologies for himself and his brother, while Ed simply laughed sheepishly.
"It can't be helped," Ed said as he gazed down at his wrecked automail leg, with it bolts and springs sticking out. He was seated on a chair with his left leg stretched out over an ottoman. "Well, at least it wasn't completely blown off, eh?" He laughed nervously, wary of the wrench Winry could so easily pull out and hurl at his head. Although it was surprising that she hadn't done that yet, as usually, the wrench came with her greeting of 'Ed, you idiot!'
She hurled not a wrench, but a menacing glare and dropped the toolbox she was carrying by his foot—or rather, on his foot, before disappearing into another room to get her other tools. Ed almost tumbled off his chair from the pain inflicted on his foot, but was luckily kept in place by Al, who immediately took the box off his brother's toe.
Edward frowned at his throbbing toe as he shot daggers at the toolbox with his gaze. All of a sudden though, he had an idea. "Al! Gimme the toolbox, quick!" He whispered hastily, motioning for Al. Alphonse did as he was told, though curious of what his brother was plotting now.
The Fullmetal Alchemist let out a mischievous snicker as he emptied the contents of the toolbox onto the table beside him. Before them were Winry's prized wrenches, screwdrivers, and all sorts of other tools. Edward looked around him, and as soon as he was sure Winry was still out of sight, he clapped his hands. "Brother, wha—" Ed grinned as he placed his metal transmutations back into its container and hurriedly put the toolbox back on the floor where Winry had left it.
"Okay, let me look at your leg then," Winry said as she reentered the room. Ed was watching her expectantly, trying not to show his giddiness, but was failing, somehow. Winry looked at him confusedly as she opened the toolbox. "What in the—" She managed to utter. To her surprise, all her tools were gone, only to be replaced by iron butterflies.
"Ed," Winry turned to him, a smile plastered on her face, though it was far from happy. "Where did my tools go?" Her eye twitched, and a vein on her forehead throbbed. If looks could kill, Ed might as well as be dead right now.
"Ah, uhm… Winry," He held his hands up, as if stopping her from any rash action she may do. Winry was a nice girl, but if you get on her bad side, it'll be a miracle if you come out in a form other than bloody pulp. Winry would have been ready to unleash her wrath on the poor alchemist, but her anger suddenly faded as she gazed more intently at the iron butterflies. Yes, he broke his automail, and he even had the nerve to transmute her tools into something so trivial, but somehow, it made her happy.
Ever since their childhood, butterflies had always fascinated her, and always gave her this feeling of happiness. The way it gently flutters along the breeze, its development from an unassuming caterpillar to a unique butterfly, its colors and patterns… and how the brothers would fight over catching butterflies.
- - -
"It's not moving anymore," a young Winry cried as she looked through a small glass jar, where a butterfly, now limp and motionless, lay at the bottom. "Is it… d-dead?" Her eyes started to dampen; sadness was etched on her face.
"Don't worry, we can catch another one, right, Al?" Edward nudged his brother. He had a look of determination in his eyes; of course, he didn't want Winry to cry, and he wanted to impress. Al nodded.
A tear escaped Winry's eye; almost instantly, Al pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to Winry. He didn't say any words.
"Winry!" Ed called in his usual tough manner. The girl and his brother looked at him. Ed drew an array with a piece of chalk, pulled out his own handkerchief, and transmuted it into a butterfly made of cloth. "This one won't die like the last one." He mumbled, and handed her the cloth butterfly.
- - -
"W-Winry?" Ed mumbled. Winry's anger was gone, and she was smiling. She took out one of the iron butterflies and held it in her hand, before giving out a chuckle. Ed and Al were puzzled by her sudden change of expression. Sometimes, it was really hard to understand girls. "I'll… just transmute them back then," Ed said as he took the toolbox from Winry.
"Yeah, you'd better," Winry joked. "But I'll keep this one." She smiled.
It's true, I'm not the only one to fall in love with a fool.