The Same Coin

The Sun and The Moon - Wet Fireworks

Special thanks to the members of AAOA, especially Roger V., for letting me bounce around ideas for this

Chrollo moved first.

It was a small move, pulling out the bookmark, but he was already bounding backward, putting space between he and Hisoka as he did. Hisoka's arched brows bent inward so slightly and he was in pursuit without a moment of hesitation. Even knowing the odds he was up against, he gave no sign or signal of self-doubt. Chrollo, for his part, was equally void of hesitation or doubt. He raced headlong away from the center of the arena, antennas in hand with Hisoka close behind.

"The battle resumes! But...Hisoka goes chasing after Chrollo! Into the stands? What's going on?"

"If he gets too close," Shalnark commented, "the antennas will be problematic for him. But if he keeps his distance then he'll be playing to Chrollo's strengths."

"He'll try to close the gap," Winry predicted. It was outside of Hisoka's comfort zone — he generally kept his distance, letting his Bungee Gum do the heavy lifting. And if she knew it, then it was doubtless that Chrollo did, too.

Foom! A big man of a spectator — tall and bulging. Heaving. A real beefcake — stepped into Hisoka's path, and Chrollo vanished from sight of the cameras then, too. Out of view, he would be free to use his collection of abilities safely. Meanwhile, behind him, Hisoka grappled with the big man whose arms were outstretched to intercept him. Hisoka didn't have the patience or the time for that; he lashed out, slamming the man's arms up and out of the way, and the force of the blow sent blood splattering the crowd. But, soon as he got around the big man, another got in his way. Hisoka's frustration showed on his face. He raised a heavy fist and brought it down on the crown of the man's head, and the man collapsed out of the way.

Hisoka seemed less than pleased, but he stopped to stoop over the body for a moment — to retrieve the antennas, Winry realized.

"Chrollo wouldn't be that sloppy," Machi said, realizing the same.

And he wasn't. Hisoka came up empty handed and, unbelievably, even more annoyed looking. The sounds of the arena had dissolved into chaos as people rushed for the exit, alarmed at the prospect of the fighters bringing the competition so close and personal. The commentators had switched to begging for calm instead of narrating the fight.

"People! Please do not panic! It's dangerous to rush the exits all at once!"

Where was Chrollo? Another, small screen had come up in the corner as the cameras panned the crowd in search of him, too, while the other stayed focused on Hisoka, and Winry could see the revolutions on his face as he went through the possibilities in his head.

"What's going on?!" the female announcer shouted. "The audience members—"

But Winry had eyes and she could see for herself what was happening. People in the audience — many of them, but not all of them — had given up their pursuit of flight, turned, and were bounding in Hisoka's direction instead. He was easy to spot in his whites, the brightest person in the room. Then Winry spotted a red and yellow striped shirt on the small screen, just for a flash, as the same shirt charged toward Hisoka. They weren't people attacking him — they were copies, she realized. Then she saw as the rest of the Troupe slowly reached the same realization.

"He does Gallery Fake first," Phinks murmured, "then he Bookmarks it. Then he creates an entire crowd of copies and activates Order Stamp. And then—"

"Break Hisoka," Winry whispered as the copies converged around him.

"He can't possibly behead them all," Shalnark said.