When her dreams of the Sun and the Moon gave way to the dawn, Winry awoke to Hisoka perched at the foot of her bed, shuffling his cards from one hand to the other. She heard the irregularities in the rhythm caused by his broken fingers. The morning light gleamed off his exposed automail. He squared his shoulders when she moved to sit up, and there was a hiccup in the movement of his cards but only for a moment. The pillow and blanket on Buccaneer's side of the bed had been straightened, and she immediately knew he had already left.
She felt a hollowness inside.
"Should you ever stop being such a onesome creature, mink," Hisoka said, not glancing back at her as she left the blankets and dressed in her clothes from the floor, "I would feel inclined to kill you."
"You say that as though it will keep you in my good graces."
She pulled a shirt over her head and left the room, trodding down the stairs. Behind her, she could hear the quieter sounds of Hisoka following her into her workroom.
"Sit."
Hisoka reclined onto her work table gracefully. Winry sat on her stool, back to him, and rolled her tool table in his direction. She flinched as she faced him. There was dried blood crusted down the front of his shirt, trailing from a jagged, shallow slice encircling his throat. His tongue emerged from the corner of his lips.
"Do you like it?"
"You deserved it. Take it off."
Hisoka pulled the bloodstained shirt off over his head and dropped it onto the ground beside the table. The remnants were stark against his pale ivory skin. Winry pulled a pair of magnifying goggles around the crown of her head before she leaned in, and carefully disconnected the nerve endings at the housing unit so that she could work without him in discomfort, though the thought crossed her mind not to bother. She disconnected the fingers, cursing as she surveyed the damage.
"How long to fix it?"
"I should be able to do it by the end of the day," she said. "The damage seems to be focused in the hinges, none of the wiring has been affected." Winry pulled her goggles down over her eyes, then glanced up at him with a frown. The goggles hyper focused her line of vision on his face. "There's a bathroom off the hallway upstairs. Go clean yourself."
"Hmh."
He left, and she lapsed into her work sullenly. She thought about Buccaneer while she worked, wondering when in the night he had left. The house didn't feel different with his absence; he had always been quiet while she worked. She heard the sound of the pipes when Hisoka turned on the shower.
She wasn't certain why she was even bothering fixing his automail outside the obligation that accompanied each installation. What had transpired the night before — how he'd thrown her words in his face — was sufficient to sever their tie. Every time she had denied calling him a friend, she had been right. Even when she had called him a friend to Sig, she'd been lying — and Sig had known she was lying.
Hisoka was not capable of friendship.
She was vaguely aware of when he returned to her workshop. She didn't hear him; his footsteps were not heavy and robust like Buccaneer's. She just felt him there. Winry ignored him and kept working. She jumped and pulled off her goggles, startled, when several hours later he noisily laid a plate down near her elbow.
"What's this?" she asked, glancing at him with suspicion and realizing suddenly that she was hungry. His hair was still damp and hung around his face, and he hadn't repainted his star and tear yet. He was, bizarrely, wearing one of her oversized work shirts with his pants.
"Sustenance."
"Why?"
"You'll need your strength for when we fight later."
Winry's expression soured, and she pushed the plate away hard. Hisoka's eyes widened with surprise. He put out a hand and stopped it from skidding off the work table as she rose to her feet, and shoved him away.
"No," she snapped. She shook her head back and forth, biting her lip. "I won't let this happen to me again. To come and go with no regard, to insult me, to take it for granted that I'll be here and just fix whatever you break. That I'll just do as you please. I won't." She shoved him again. "Though at least Ed had the decency to be my friend through it all."
Hisoka's lips parted, but Winry held up her hand, cutting him off.
"No," she said once more. "I won't spar you, I won't fuck you, and I won't be your mechanic." She spat the words at him. "I don't exist to be used."
His brow creased so slightly in displeasure, but he turned his back on her and walked out without a word. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she heard the front door open, then shut. She wanted to fling his fingers across the room, but she couldn't bring herself to damage her own work like that. She considered not finishing the repairs, but she wasn't able to do that either — not knowing that she was the only automailer on this side of the sea. Damn it.
Winry slumped back over her table and kept working. She didn't hear Hisoka return. She didn't hear when he retired for the night; she wasn't even sure where he had gone off to sleep. But she at last sat up, pushing her hands against her lower back and arcing in a stretch. That was when she saw another plate of food sitting on her tool bench a few feet away. She stared at it for a long minute before grabbing it and carrying it upstairs to her room.
The plate was cold and the food nothing special, but she ate. Then she showered and laid in bed, sliding her hand over the other side of the mattress, where Buccaneer had slept only the night before. Something crinkled underneath the blanket.
She drew the blanket and sheet down, and she found a folded slip of paper. Winry closed her eyes, inhaling deep into her chest, before opening it.
Winry,
I regret leaving like this, but if I wait until you're awake to say goodbye it's unlikely I'll be able to leave at all.
I found one item in you grandmother's safe when I was packing her belongings to bring to you here. It is a red sealed box, packed with her clothes.
Please be careful, and show good judgement. If you ever need help, don't hesitate. If you are ever in danger know that there will always be safety for you in Amestris.
We will meet again.
B
Winry abandoned her bed in favor of going to the last upstairs bedroom; it would eventually be a second patient quarters, after she finished going through her grandmother's things. She knew the crate he meant; each had been meticulously labeled, and she found it easily now in the far corner. She laid her hands against the seam of the crate and split it open with her Hatsu.
She laid the lid aside and plunged her arms into the clothes packed inside. She tried to ignore the familiar smell of her grandmother and the knot that formed in her chest at her memory. Her knuckles brushed across something cold and firm; Winry wrapped her hand around and pulled it out.
It was a red steel box, and her grandmother's familiar welds around it held it shut. Her Hatsu made short work of those, too. The box opened into halves, and she found a black jewelry box with an envelope inside. She squinted in the darkness at the wax seal, and the tattoo of her heart grew loud and unsteady.
The Sun and the Moon.
Her fingers trembled as she broke the seal and drew out the note inside, read it once. Twice. Thrice.
I entrust this to you.
Her fingers trembled as she took the jewelry box in hand.
If I survive The Promised Day, I will return for it.
Winry could hear her blood rushing in her ears.
If I do not, then do with it as you will—
The lid snapped open on its spring hinge.
—with the power of God.
Nestled in its black velvet, single sanguine stone winked at her in the darkness, and she immediately recognized it for what it was.
Regards, Zolf Kimblee.
