El answers it. She's taken to wearing long sleeves and pants, and gloves.

There's a man at the door, in the uniform of the state military, a silver chain at his pocket, white gloves with an array stitched in red on the back.

"Good morning. Is this the household of Van Hohenheim?" he asks.

"...No. We're the Elrics."

"Do you recognize the name at all?"

"I haven't seen my father since I was five years old. Go bother someone else." She moves to shut the door.

He catches it.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but it's important I find him."

"I bet. He's not here."

"Do you have any idea where he could've gone?"

"Nope. Don't care, either."

He sighs.

"I'll leave you be, then."

And then Bellona comes down the stairs.

"El? Who's at the door?"

Mustang tilts his head, pausing in leaving.

"A State Alchemist. Who was just leaving."

"I find myself curious."

"How did you come to perform human transmutation?"

"That's a rather personal question."

"It is, I suppose."

"Most State Alchemists would have arrested you by now, though."

"And?"

"Why haven't you, then?"

"The cost of it's enough punishment for most."

Bellona inclines her head.

"We tried to put back our mom. It didn't work."

Amazing, how a voice without a body doesn't waver, doesn't betray your lies.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"If you want - you'd have to cover up your past, here - the State Alchemy program's good for access to assorted resources. We could use the sort of talent even not dying in such an attempt takes. I could sponsor you, and get your foot in the door."

"We'll take that under advisement."

"Lieutenant Colonel Jun Mustang, East City, if you want to contact me."

He turns.

"I'll get out of your hair now."

"Goodbye."

He nods.

"Good luck, whatever you do with your lives."

And he leaves.