The Same Coin

Maycape

✅

"You know how they work?" Winry asked, leaning forward between the seats to talk to the driver even though her eyes were set outside the windows.

It'd taken a little over three weeks to get here, and already she'd seen so much that she was overly pleased with herself for not letting Ed talk her out of coming. It was fine and well for him to go find adventure, but when the shoe was on the other foot it wasn't alright with him at all. It was at last her chance to be the one seeking excitement — and it was going to be worlds safer than anything Ed did, that was certain. She'd show him his apprehension was unfounded.

She could've stayed on the only forever, though. It was miles of water rippling in every direction out to where the horizon found it. It made her feel small and human. Humbled. So easily the waves could swallow her up and leave nothing but the taste of saltwater behind.

The Kaijinmaru had made a handful of stops on its route south to Saherta. She had explored every port city, and when they finally arrived in the bay here it'd been with the dawn. Fishing vessels navigated their way around them and the fishermen waves as their ship sailed by.

Taxis were in a row up the street outside the harbor, and she'd stood back to watch what the others leaving did before she'd ducked into one. The elderly driver greeted her with a smile.

"The airport? Too easy," he'd said, and put the car in gear. "I used to do their services when I was younger. Driving is easier work at my age, though."

And so, "You know how they work?" she'd asked, leaning in as close as her seatbelt would let her get. "Tell me everything!"

The old man nodded.

"They've got a ballonet — a bag of air inside the outer shell — that controls the ship's ability to lift. Bag fills with helium, which gives the ship its lift. The engine provides thrust, and there's a rudder to steer."

He kept going, getting as detailed as any mechanic she'd ever met — and it was like they all had waited a lifetime for somebody who wanted to listen. Her attention was rapt, constructing it in her head. Visualizing where each bolt was, each bend of a pipe, every valve the same way she did before she began building a piece of automail. Building it to spec in her mind like she'd actually get to to make it herself. Her fingers curled with the want.

"There's the airport, downhill."

Winry went to lean forward, and her eyes went big when the seatbelt locked up and wouldn't let her move any closer. She sat back in the seat, letting it retract, before trying again.

Now her eyes went comically wide. Mouth gaped openly. An airport. She ate the sight of it whole. Six airships were lined in a sprawling lot, while a seventh sat atop a squat building. People were climbing a ramp to board.

Winry pushed money into the driver's hand, her tip almost matching her fare, before she leapt out of the car, hauling her bags behind her. The attendant checked her identification and ticket at the desk before gesturing her toward the lounge to wait for her ship.

A digital sign — in and of themselves a marvel she had never seen in Amestris — on the wall stated, DEPARTURES: MAYCAPE TO YORKNEW CITY 10:45AM.

Winry sat herself on a bench, tucking a leg underneath her to look out the window to watch as the ship that'd been on the roof started its course east. She squinted, watching it closely from below, adding every rudder she could see to her private mental schematics. When it had gone too far too see clearly anymore, she at last gave her attention to the lounge.

Several couples lingered, and a few mothers with their children. It was mostly lone travelers, however, each preoccupied with their own private business and minding no one else the way no one else minded them. The largest group, though, was by far the one sharing her bench. It was difficult to watch them discretely with them so close, but she did her damndest.

A woman sat a bag's length away, disinterested in her environment as she stared down a prominent nose at her hands. Blonde hair had a severe part down the center of her scalp. A young man — possibly even her own age — sat on the other side, equally blonde but his hair in a bowl cut. He looked cheerful enough for them both.

The last space on the bench was occupied by the man in black. Broad shouldered in his button-up shirt and suit jacket. His black tie was undone and hung loose. He had bandages wrapped around his forehead, and black hair fell over the swathings and hung around his face. A beautiful, unearthly face, that was void of emotion as his gray eyes investigated his surroundings. Jade pendant earrings hung from his ears.

The most conspicuous of them all, though, stood leaning against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the airport. Tall. Built. His pale face was comprised of handsome, sharp angles. Beneath his right eye was a yellow star. Underneath the left was a blue tear.

Staring out the window, he had a smirk that was not quite bored. Not like the man beside him, so detached and observant — no. His amber eyes gleamed as though amused by a private joke. Red hair, a shade she'd never seen on a person before, was styled to flare upward dramatically. His flavor of dress was eccentric, too; white pants and a sleeveless black cropped shirt, which bore both a heart and spade. Red torques around his biceps and wrists emphasized his cut physique.

Even letting her eyes linger on their group too long made Winry uncomfortable, and she studied them with her peripheral vision while she sat turned to look out the window.

Another airship rose, and headed in the direction of the building — to land on the roof, she realized. Winry glanced at her watch — that was likely hers. That one. Her heart raced.

When the announcement finally came, it took all of her self-control to not bolt to the gate. Winry would never be sure how she managed to rise to her feet and calmly walk over instead, but she did. The others in the lobby joined her, with the unnerving group of four directly behind her. The fine hair on the nape of her neck prickled. She ignored it — she wouldn't allow anything to interfere with this moment. She was checked through the gate then mounted the escalator that carried her to the rooftop. Then it was there before her — the airship.

Her excitement was slipping out, and she covered her mouth with a trembling hand to keep it in check. Her eyes darted over every curve and rivet, sketching in every detail now that one was up close, adding it to the design in her head and correcting the things she'd done wrong. What she wouldn't give to have a few hours alone to open it up and look through its guts.

The expectation she'd set was that the interior be like a train, with rows of seats. Instead it was more reminiscent of a lounge. Bar and bartender with his sleeves rolled up. Tables were scattered around and people began to find places to make themselves comfortable. Winry, though, went to the window over a rudder to wait. And wait. Until the airship to began to rise.