The Same Coin

Creation

Winry sighed, staring up at the clouds with pursed lips, her fingers laced behind her head. The shingles were still warm from soaking up the sunshine through the day, but the air was pleasantly cool. She remembered, somewhat somberly, how often she had done exactly this back in Resembool. Those late nights when she'd climb up on the roof and just stare at the stars that filled their navy sky. Yorknew City, however, was so much different than her small southern town. It seemed like there were fewer stars to shine down on her here.

Squealing tires on a nearby street cut through the quiet of the nighttime cityscape. Winry thought little of it; it was an almost ambient noise she had become familiar with after her time living at Heavens Arena.

She kept her cellphone balanced on her stomach, waiting. Before Chrollo had left, he'd recited to her the phone numbers for each of the Troupe members, and told her he had given hers to them already. She wondered what they were doing — where they were. What the balloon had been for. What more they might need from her. Why they would need her to stay longer. What would transpire over the next few days. How close they would let her get.

She wondered why Chrollo had even let her this close.

Chrollo had told her their name; the Phantom Troupe. Gen'ei Ryodan. The power he had given her just by telling her that much hadn't gone unnoticed. Winry had done her due diligence about them, she knew now the things they were accused of. Perhaps two years ago, or even only one, it would have changed how she felt about Chrollo and his 'friends'. It changed nothing for her now besides wonder what else they thought she could do for them since the balloon was built.

More screeching wheels echoed through the streets, layering itself on top of the other that was still whining in the not-so-far distance. She tucked her hair behind her ear, her feet rocking from side to side rhythmically as she pondered what to do. She didn't want to leave, but there wasn't anything to do to pass the time since she'd given Shalnark her deck of cards.

Another set of tires screamed against the pavement, joining the chorus, followed by several more vehicles doing the same. Now Winry propped herself up on her elbows to glance around. It was getting louder, and she'd already lost count of how many cars she heard. Doors were slamming. As she pushed herself up to her feet she heard indistinct shouting.

Something was happening.

As panic ensued nearby, she couldn't help except to tilt her head back and look again to the starless sky. High overhead, Winry saw the familiar outline of a hot air balloon gliding. The black balloon, with its thin white stripes, was almost camouflaged against the clouds. Fire winked for a brief moment, raising it a little higher — the only clue that the silent aircraft was there at all.

The chaos was growing louder and more frantic as the balloon and its passengers slipped away into the night.

What would Ed think if he learned of this? If he knew what had transpired after their final farewell in the hospital? That she had willingly assisted outlaws like the Phantom Troupe, well-aware that whatever their intentions were, blood had likely spilled. He would be horrified by the people she surrounded herself with. He'd be sickened that she was tumbling — it'd been slowly at first, but now it was headlong and breathlessly quick — into the lives they led.

That she was letting this become a part of herself.

But, standing on the roof of her own little hideout in Yorknew City, watching her creation grow smaller as it approached the horizon, Winry shoved her hands in her pockets and smiled privately to herself for the marvelous thing she had done.