The Same Coin

Left Wrist

She wasn't alone.

A chill tiptoed up Winry's spine, and she shuddered under the onslaught. There were no lights from outside shining in through the windows, and not a single source shone around her either. In this perfect darkness, she couldn't see anything. Fingers might be in front of her face, reaching for her or wiggling tauntingly. She strained her ears to listen, trying to quiet her breathing so she could listen. With her slow inhalations, she tried to smell.

Hisoka.

Fear cascaded down her like ice water. She didn't have to worry about quieting her breathing anymore; she couldn't breathe at all. She wanted to reach for her gun, but she couldn't move. Her arms were paralyzed at her sides. Had he used Bungee Gum to restrain her? She couldn't use her Hatsu either if she couldn't use her hands. He was coming to kill her.

This wasn't how she should die. She had survived so much else, she couldn't die like this. Not at his hands.

"Someone is coming, Ms. Rockbell," a voice from her subconscious whispered, and it almost sounded alarmingly like Kimblee.

She had to live.

Winry sucked down a trembling breath and calmed herself as best she could. Focus. If she used Gyo in the darkness, would she still be able to see his Bungee Gum? She had to try. If she saw how he had bound her, perhaps she'd be able to find a way out. If he had bound her, if he was here to kill her, she would have no choice except to fight back.

Hisoka was so clever though — could she kill him?

She'd try.

If she couldn't kill Hisoka, then she didn't deserve the Troupe's attention.

She inhaled, closing her eyes as she girded herself for what she needed to do next. In that silence, she heard a footstep. Winry flexed her arms ever so slightly, testing her range of motion — and found she could move again now. She could feel her gun in its holster, pressing into her hip; he hadn't taken it yet. She had to move first. She had to move first. She had to move first—

A gunshot rang out. Winry's eyes flew open and she gasped loudly, jerking awake where she sat on the floor in a corner. A finger was pressed to her lips, someone was whispering, "Shh—" and her right arm was outstretched over her head, pinned to the wall.

"You were dreaming," a familiar voice cajoled.

The features of Chrollo's face began to stand out in the darkness, and the racing of her heart quieted as his words sank in. Dreaming? Winry tilted her head back, the line of her gaze following to where their raised arms met. Her palm was wrapped around the rough grip of her gun, and he had the muzzle pinned to the wall between a dagger's bolster and the quillion. A hole was blown in the ceiling above them.

Neither of them spoke as Chrollo rose to his feet, then offered her his hand to pull her up. Her neck and back ached from the position she'd fallen asleep in. He was dressed in what she had eventually realized was actually his usual attire; his fur-trimmed trench coat, a purple so dark it was almost black. Hair slicked back and the tattoo on his forehead visible. Light from the windows cut across him in dim streaks. Her gun stayed pinned to the wall until he yanked the knife out to release it. Her eyes stayed on the curious-looking blade until he had returned it to whence it came.

He didn't need to explain.

"I believe something has happened to Uvogin," Chrollo said. His grey eyes lowered, and Winry noticed how his features drew tight. "He went after the Chain User who had captured him, and he hasn't returned. I suspect he is dead."

"What can I do?" she whispered.

"Shalnark said the building Uvo was held in belonged to the Nostrade family — mafioso. The head of the Nostrade family has a daughter who is here in Yorknew City. I intend to seek her out."

He turned then to a zipped suit bag she hadn't noticed before, hanging on the top of a door. Chrollo opened it, the zipper whispering under his fingers. He shrugged out of his coat and held it out to her. He was naked from the waist up. On the inside of his forearm was a spider tattoo, and on the spider's back was the same cross on his forehead.

"What are you?"

"I am the Head of the Spider."

Winry took his coat and held it in her arms, hesitating for only a moment before she asked again, "What can I do?"

"You are a sixteen-year-old girl with an interest in collecting body parts, and the event you came here for was cancelled." He paused for a moment. "Where would you go?"

She dwelled on that for a moment as Chrollo began to change, unabashed as he undressed in front of her. His look distantly was familiar; it was his dark suit. He tucked the tails of a white dress shirt into his slacks before running a belt through their loops.

"I would go shopping," she said at last, and his fingers hesitated on buttoning his cuffs.

"Shopping?"

"She didn't get to go do the thing she'd really wanted. Shopping for something else would be...second nature."

"Shopping," Chrollo repeated again softly. "I feel that possibility wouldn't have even occurred to Pakunoda or Machi."

"I'm sure they would have thought of it eventually."

"It took Machi a few hours to realize she could lure you out with that same ruse at Heavens Arena." His smile was of soft amusement at the memory. "Shopping."

"Here."

Winry saw a bulging pocket inside the unzipped suit bag, and she walked over to where the he'd left the bag hanging. Chrollo glanced over his shoulder at her.

"You may bring those to me."

She reached in and pulled out a watch, a handful of bandages, and a pair of cuff links along with a slender black tie. He bent his head as she paced back to him. Winry gingerly flipped up the collar of his shirt and laid the tie around his neck. Chrollo held out his left wrist expectantly, and Winry obliged by putting one of the cuff links through for him. Not a word passed between them as he then offered his right.

"I haven't seen you work since the first time we met," he commented. "After this is done, I will find an opportunity for another demonstration when we have all returned to Meteor City."

"Meteor City?"

Chrollo only gave a nod for an answer and lifted his chin, looking down his nose at her without a word. She inhaled, let the breath fill her from her head to the tips of her toes, let it expand every rib. Felt it in every cell of her being. Winry took the silk of his tie in her fingers and crossed the two ends, weaving them just as wordlessly into a tidy full Windsor while she mulled over the implication of his phrasing.

When we have all returned to Meteor City.

She stepped away, hands falling to her sides, then squatted down and rocked back on her heels. Chrollo took the bandages and carefully wrapped the white lengths around his head while she only watched.

"I'd like for you to wait here, just a little longer. I will message you the instructions. Keep a window open — we will be paying our respects to Uvogin. It would please me for you to listen."

"May I participate?"

He smiled down at her.

"I would have enjoyed a demonstration in that form from you, but this is Troupe business...and I would need the demonstration before you could, and there isn't time for that tonight. So I only want you to listen, and to stay ready. Wait for my command."

After he left and she handled the business he messaged her, she opened the windows, laid on the floor, and waited. She hadn't had to wait very long — a few hours. Then the sound of gunfire sang through the air, and Winry felt her eyes grow wet at the sound of Uvogin's symphony.