The Same Coin

Red, Orange, and Pink

"The reason I killed all those men" Kimblee whispered in her ear, and she felt his lips brushing against her skin, "was because I could. It's that simple."

Beyond him the sky was changing. The sun and the moon were being drawn to one another, seeking each other out in their dervish circle. His fingertips danced, too, raking through her hair. In her dream, it was as though he was there beside her again. She remembered lying beside him in the sheets while he whispered in her ear: "Tomorrow you'll come to the car and insist you accompany us. The Elrics will try to escape our surveillance, but they'll want to take you with them when they do. You'll have a radio—"

Their brand of pillow talk had warmed her, and now she felt the memory curve along her spine. This dream — Kimblee's presence in her dream — had intensified, and become familiar. Welcome, even. It didn't frighten her anymore as she watched the sun and the moon commune. They were like magnets, inevitably drawn to one another as their paths crossed.

"Look straight at the people you kill; don't take your eyes off them for a second," she heard him say as the eclipse cast over them. "And don't ever forget them, because they won't forget you."

She awoke, enveloped in the peace of his wartime words. She didn't scream anymore when the dream came to her. It was akin to a visit from a long lost friend. It was as though a new past were coming up to meet her.

Outside the window of the airship, the Republic of Tentai was far below. She had been flying over the sea that separated Tentai from Saherta for several hours, but that was behind her now, and Glam Gas Land even further in history.

Chrollo had left the next day, and members of the Troupe — Feitan, Phinks, and Machi — arrived that night to take the loot. The exchange had been brief, with only a solemn wish for their luck in finding a Nen exorcist to resolve Chrollo of his judgement chain.

And now she was free. The logical decision was for her to do as Chrollo had suggested, and go back to her work at Heavens Arena, but the thought tasted so bland as she rolled it across her tongue yet again. Did she want to go back to that mundane work? Could she? She felt as though she had at long last tasted freedom, and to go back to Heavens Arena would be to allow it to be ripped away.

She could return as a fighter. She had held her own against Chrollo Lucilfer, a Floor Master, thanks to the onesomeness of her Nen ability — she had no delusions about whether it had been her hand-to-hand skills or her Nen that had carried her so far against him. Perhaps she could have a future at Heavens Arena in this new capacity, though. Yet even the vision of that left her hungry.

Time was dwindling for her to decide as the airship drew ever close to its destination. How would she live her life if she never heard from the Troupe again? And how would she live her life if she never heard from Hisoka again?

Unimaginably, that was the hardest to fathom of all.

She had kept her word to herself, and hadn't allowed herself to return to his bed. Sex with him was too indulgent, too decadent of a luxury to afford to lose herself to. But to keep her word she had pushed him away and shut him out. She had tried to choose the Troupe over him because to do so would ease the restrictions she placed on herself, even when there had been no cause to choose between them then.

Chrollo had not told her about her nodes being opened; Hisoka had.

Chrollo had not taught her to control Nen; Hisoka had.

Chrollo had not spent months with her in Dublith teaching her how to fight; Hisoka had.

Chrollo had not delivered Scar to her; Hisoka had.

She had stood firm since the beginning that they were not friends — that Hisoka was not capable of friendship. But if this was not friendship, then what was?

And, as powerful and fiercely kind as Chrollo had been to her, Winry abruptly wondered whether she had made a terrible mistake.

Winry took her cellphone from her pocket, and scrolled down to his name. Her finger hovered over it for a prolonged moment before she pressed the button and raised her phone to her ear. It rang once. Twice. It rang until it went to voicemail. She lowered her phone slowly before returning it to her pocket.

It was the response she deserved.

She felt hollow as the airship approached its destination, the lights of Heavens Arena shining brightly to welcome her home. Winry shouldered her bag and made her way to the lines of waiting taxis outside the airport. The drive back to the arena was ripe with heavy silence.

"Winry!" the girl at the check in counter exclaimed as she walked through the door. Winry forced herself to return the greeting with a smile. "I'm so glad you're back! A man arrived here a few days ago for you. He's been waiting for you. Dr. Hirano put him in your quarters."

"A man? " Winry repeated with surprise, and she felt an eyebrow of skepticism rise. "Tall or short?"

"Very tall," the girl confirmed. "Muscular. Unusual looking."

"Thanks!" Winry called over her shoulder, already moving toward the elevators. They took too long to descend, and she went bounding up the flights of stairs instead. He was here. Hisoka was here, and why that surprised her so much she wasn't certain. She was feeling winded by the time she reached her quarters on the fifteenth floor. The door refused her card key the first two attempts from how hard her hands were trembling. At last she flung the door ajar and stepped inside, shutting and locking it behind her.

She saw the black silhouette of the man sitting on her bed, the light of the sunset burning red, orange, and pink through the flimsy curtains behind him. Her footsteps hiccuped, and her voice came out in a whisper.

"Captain Buccaneer?"