The Same Coin

The Sun and The Moon - A Battle To The Death

The bite of the needle was less than what Winry had expected. All of her experience was with medical needles and she had thought it would be more similar to the sensation of a hypodermic needle. But as Shizuku ran the tattoo gun across the soft skin of her outer thigh, it was nothing she had thought it would be. It was a stinging, persistent vibration that dulled the longer it went on.

The blue tracing outline of the spider on her leg made her heart race. She was ready for this indoctrination. From the moment she had laid her eyes on the Troupe at the airport in Maycape, she had felt the fine fibers of Fate — like a spider's web — drawing her to Chrollo. To them. Even from the start. This was the endgame she had always been destined for. It was what she had left Amestris to discover, even if she hadn't realized it then. Perhaps this was what everything had been for, right down to Kimblee and the Promised Day.

Number eleven.

Machi crouched down beside where Winry laid; "I may need your help." Winry's brows perked as she waited for the other woman to expand on her words. "Hisoka wired me money to repair his injuries, in the event of his death. I couldn't repair all of his wounds last time — I may need your help again this time. I will split my commission with you."

"I can do that," Winry agreed. Although Chrollo had asked for license to use her ability, he had not taken her up on the option. She was free to help Machi.

"The fight's starting," Nobunaga said. His tone was sharp — he wanted quiet. It took no urging. They all wanted to see what would come of this. The tension between Hisoka and Chrollo had been building before Winry had even entered the picture. This reckoning was due.

"Ladies and gentlemen! The opponent the elusive "Grim Reaper" has picked for this Floor Master battle...! Here for his first match as Floor Master! His name is—"

Shizuku lifted the needle to stop tattooing for a moment, and Phinks grabbed one end of the couch Winry laid on, turning it so that it faced the television. Shizuku settled back into her place, continuing to fill in the blue outline of the spider on Winry's thigh, eyes darting up every few moments to look at the screen with the rest of them.

"Chrollo Lucilfer verse Hisoka Morow!"

Winry couldn't breathe as she digested the sight of the two men, squared off and standing face-to-face in the arena. Chrollo's hair was haphazard and uncharacteristically wild. The tattoo on his forehead was uncovered and there for all to see. His left hand was curled into a fist at his side while he leisurely touched his chin with the other. Across from him, Hisoka stood with the back of his hand on his hip, pristine in his whites, and his lips wet. Neither man was mic'd up for the fight; instead there were booms over the arena. The crowd cheered — Raah! Raah! — and Winry thought back to the two men on the dock in Meteor City.

"He will be so primed to fight me by that point that he will agree to whatever terms I lay in place. It will not be advantageous for him."

She would not choose to be in the crowd tonight.

"Finally," Hisoka said with a slow smile. "...My dream is realized. I've waited this long — I don't want a friendly sparring match. "

"I know." Chrollo nodded his acknowledgement of Hisoka's request. "Being pursued has become annoying. This will be a battle to the death."

Hisoka inclined his head. "Okay."

"WOW!" the commentator's voice said over the jeering of the arena. "Floor Master Chrollo proposes a battle to the death! And Hisoka consents! Mortal combat it is! Only one will survive! Victory is on through the other's death!"

"The use of weapons is allowed," the referee said, taking his place between the two men. Winry could see a bead of sweat trickling down his cheek. Or mayhap it was a tear, because deep inside he certainly had to know he'd never make it out of the arena alive. "For your pride and honor...Let's fight!"