The Same Coin

Summoned To The Gate

"Who are you?" Winry demanded, reaching for the gun on her nightstand.

Except this wasn't her nightstand, and there was no gun. Guns weren't permitted to be carried by anyone who wasn't security, or a weapons-authorized fighter on their way to a match, and she'd never resented that fact more than she did now.

She'd awoken with a start when she'd seen the unfamiliar man sitting in a chair across from the foot of the bed, his face illuminated only in part by a dim lamp. The man gave her a bored look, turning his away as though she'd slighted him by waking. He wasn't particularly handsome — his forehead was too broad, and his face too long. Black hair was slicked straight back and hung down past his hips. He was dressed in green, with gold-hued spheres dotted across his chest and around the neck of his vest.

"My name is Illumi Zoldyck. Hisoka asked me to keep watch so you both could sleep safely," he explained, gesturing to the bed beside her.

Winry was struck by a feeling of déjà vu as her gaze followed Illumi's hand to the bed beside her. Hisoka was laying so his feet were positioned at the head of the bed, shoes off with his toes tucked beneath a pillow. He wore one of the white robes that were provided with the fighters' rooms — she could see the Heavens Arena patch sewn over the heart. It had loosened during sleep to the point of being almost indecent. Hisoka had his fingers laced behind his head. He must have showered before going to sleep; his hair fell around his face in waves. His eyes were open, and he was staring at her through the narrowed slits with amusement.

"How long has it been?" Hisoka asked, tilting his head back so he could see Illumi.

"Six hours."

"Hmh." He looked back at her again. "I'd expected you to sleep most of the day after that display."

She certainly didn't feel finished with sleeping. Had she not seen Illumi, she likely would have dozed back off again. Her head ached, and a sensation akin to a wick struggling to spark alight was flickering through every nerve ending of her body.

"I'll finish sleeping in my quarters," she said, hauling herself off the bed. Her knees collapsed the moment she stood — but Hisoka had wrapped his hand around her wrist, and he yanked her gracelessly back onto the mattress before she had the chance to hit the ground.

"Unless you consent to Heavens Arena seeing me — or Illumi — carry you there, you'll stay where you are."

"Dr. Hirano already suspects the worst," Winry said with a roll of her eyes. "That threat isn't as effective as you might like to think."

He shrugged. "Very well. Then walk yourself there instead." Her nostrils flared with rage, and he smirked. "I'm not done with you anyway." Hisoka turned to Illumi. "If you don't mind waiting outside...This shouldn't take long. And make sure no one interferes."

Winry wasn't sure if she should feel less-than-pleased to watch the newly introduced Illumi rise to his feet with utter indifference and walk out, or if she should be relieved that now there was only Hisoka to deal with.

"My fight with Kastro did not go as I had anticipated," Hisoka admitted with a playful sigh. "After he took the first arm, I saw little reason to stop him from taking the second — but, to be fair, I hadn't expected such complications with reattaching them."

"Do you usually lose limbs?"

"It happens from time to time."

"Her Nen Stitches didn't work to reattach it this time, though."

"No,they didn't."

"What I did isn't going to last very long," Winry warned. "Your arm is hanging on by threads. The recovery window—"