The Same Coin

The Sun and The Moon - Raise You Above Them

Winry could feel her pulse in every part of her body as she slid her key into the lock, and turned it. Chrollo was at her back, dark eyes roving and alert as he kept watch. She felt certain that somehow Hisoka knew what she had done. Like a twig snapping to alert the hunter. He would be waiting for her. He would come down from a tree on a thread of his bungee gum, like a spider, and snap her neck as she walked by.

But they had to come back here.

The door opened and stepping inside her house felt like falling into arms that meant safety. In reality it was no safer than outside, but it felt better. It was her territory. Chrollo followed her in, locking the door behind him audibly. She let her bag fall from her shoulder and it landed on the floor with a thump. Her foot kicked it accidentally on its way down.

"You suit this place," Chrollo said. She glanced back over her shoulder and saw approval. Winry smiled. "But you suit the Troupe better."

Perhaps, more than anything else, this was Chrollo's greatest ability — not Lovely Ghostwriter, the Sun and the Moon, or any of the other stolen abilities in his book. It was his ability to bring people in. It was his ability to open his arms and have people want to come into his circle. The unwanted, the pariahs, the black sheep, the outcasts found their home with him. He wanted them all. He brought them all in and they were his devotees. And she was one of them now.

"Up here," she said, leading him to the stairs.

She knew them by now and her feet avoided the loud boards with confidence. Chrollo followed in her footsteps perfectly and he didn't make a sound on his way up the steps behind her. Where she stepped, he stepped. He trusted her. Yet again he was showing her how much he trusted her. It was her turn to show him how deeply she trusted him in return.

"Here," Winry whispered, leading him down the hall to her bathroom.

Chrollo watched with interest while she took the lid off the toilet and carefully peeled the adhesive tape from its inside. Moisture had loosened them slightly, but they had held.

"A Philosopher's Stone," he said in awe, and the seldom-seen expression of surprise overtook his face as she carefully peeled it free from the bandages. A pinprick of red reflected in his wide, dark eyes as Winry held it between her thumb and ring finger for him to see. The galloping of her heart was tremendous. Pounding. Thum-thum. Thum-thum. "How did this come into your possession?"

"Friends in the right places."

"It would appear so."

Winry extended her arm in his direction, still holding the Stone. Chrollo paused, his eyes moving between her and the Stone with what she could only interpret as apprehension.

"It could make you a wealthy woman. A wealthy, formidable, truly dangerous woman. Kings would raise you above them." He paused, appraising her. "I have heard there's a Prince of Xing who is in need of a bride."

Her nose wrinkled. Faint lines creased around Chrollo's eyes as he smiled at her response with amusement.

"How am I intended to use this?"

"I don't know," she admitted.

"Give it to me anyway, I suppose. If I cannot use it, then nothing changes with it being in my possession."

"You cannot let it fall into Hisoka's hands."

"I will guard it with my life. But, for your part, you cannot on the floor during the fight. You will need to be with the rest of the Troupe. They will in my suite."

Another display of profound trust; he was telling her where the rest of the Troupe would be while his fight with Hisoka was ongoing. She was one of them to him — she was, in earnest, the eleventh leg of the Spider.