Being alone in the world, completely independent, is a good way to go. Most girls would disagree with that. But then, I'm not most girls. Not anymore.

I hummed to myself as I walked down the cobbled street that led to my martial arts class. The dojo was my second home. It had opened in Risembool five years ago, and the seventeen year old me had been the first to enroll.

I'd started out a white belt, of course, taking basic karate. I was so good that after only six months I had my black belt. I started studying other fighting styles and now I had a black belt in Judo, Kendo, Moi Tai, Jujitsu, and even Aikido. I only had a yellow belt in Tai Kwon Do. I didn't like it that much.

I smiled to myself as I pushed open the double glass doors of my second home. The front desk manager, Tanya, looked up and smiled at me. "Hey, Win," she called in her airy voice. "He's waiting for you."

"Thanks Tan." I smiled back warmly, breezing through the lobby and into the locker rooms. I saw Tanya smirking out of the corner of my eye. She was convinced Sensei and I had, in her words, a "thing". I always laughed when she brought this up. Sensei had saved me; of course I loved him. But it was a sisterly, daughter-ly, friendly kind of love. Nothing more.

I changed into my ratty karate clothes, as I called them, and tied my red belt around my waist. I didn't like wearing my black belt; Sensei seemed to fight harder during our sparring matches when I did. I firmly believed that the workout was not worth the bruises and the soreness that followed for days afterward.

When I entered the practice room no one was there. But I wasn't fooled; the back of my neck was prickling. I dropped into my fighting stance and took in the pale green walls and my reflection in the wall length mirror. The familiar scent of the mats and the wooden floors underneath both relaxed me and put me on alert. I was in the zone.

"Sensei," I called. "Nice try, but I know you're here. Whatever you're planning is never going to-" On instinct I whirled around and moved to the left, feeling something whoosh by my head, missing by half a second and half an inch. I used my momentum for extra force and kicked my leg up in a deadly arc.

Sensei caught it, of course, but he looked surprised and his arm was shaking with the absorbed impact. "Very nice, ai," He always called me ai, love. He said love was my strong point. I thought back to a conversation we'd had four years ago, when I was still struggling with my demons.

"You have much love," he told me, as I aimed punch after punch at him while he dodged neatly. He wasn't even out of breath, which was making me mad. "It is your strength. It burns inside you, even though you say you have none. You must use your love, Winry, instead of your hatred of the one who betrayed you. Love will always triumph."

"Does it matter what emotion gives me strength?" I asked through gritted teeth. "If I become strong enough and skilled enough to win any fight, does it matter what I'm feeling?" I was still young, naïve, and yes, full of hate.

"Yes, ai, it does matter." Sensei grabbed my flying fist and twisted my arm, throwing me to the ground. He sat down in front of me. "Your hate may give you physical strength, but it makes you weak in spirit. If your spirit is weak, you will never be able to draw from the true sources of strength in this world—love, freedom, peace." He gazed steadily into my eyes. "Do you understand, ai?"

I'd nodded, even though I really didn't understand. But as time passed, I got it. And I vowed right then and there to make Sensei proud of me, no matter what.

Now, Sensei released my leg, which was starting to cramp, and pulled me into a warm embrace. "It is good to see you, ai."

I hugged him tight, breathing in his forest-y scent. My heart was beating a little hard, but it was just from that little bit of exercise. Nothing more.

We broke apart and looked each other over. Sensei had silky black hair that I loved to ruffle when I was younger, melt-y black eyes and skin that looked like vanilla with just a hint of chocolate. He appeared to be scrawny and weak, but I knew from experience, during our training in the mountains, that he was pure muscle under his loose-fitting clothes.

"Flown off any waterfalls recently?" he joked, sensing what I was thinking. It was our private joke, referring to the time I'd tripped and fell headfirst into the pool beneath a waterfall. Since there was no easy way back up, Sensei tossed me a rope from the top of the cliff. I'd pulled him off the cliff and into the water with me.

"No, Sensei," I said in a falsely innocent tone. I giggled as he ruffled my hair.

His smile faded as he looked at me. "I sense you have something to tell me," he said, his tone light, his eyes concerned. Sensei was young, only five years older than me, but he always seemed so timeless.

Simultaneously we sank to the floor, sitting cross legged. I hunched my shoulders defensively, and I nodded. "I received a letter." I didn't need to say who it was from. There was only one person who could upset me this much.

Sensei waited patiently for me to continue. I shifted my hair over my shoulder, letting it partially hide my face. I didn't speak.

"Go on," he prompted kindly.

"He said he wants to meet," I whispered, my voice raw with pain. "He said he wants to see me again." My eyes burned with hot tears.

"Ai," Sensei put his hand on my shoulder, prompting me to look up. "You are stronger now. He will not take you like that again." Memories flashed behind my eyes; lightning flashing, strong, unwelcome hands, my horrified face reflected in the mirror. The eyes that would one day burn with hate. Tremors ran through me.

"You are strong enough," Sensei said again.

"Thanks to you," I murmured.

Sensei shook his head. "I set you on your feet," he said quietly. "You made the decision to stay standing."

I took a shaky breath and sat up straight. "I know I am, in both body and spirit. I know I can handle this, in my mind. But my body still remembers." I touched the scar under my shirt, remembering how the monster said he'd do far worse if I ever betrayed him again.

And I had done more than betray him. So I didn't believe for an instant that he would let me walk away from him again.

"Winry Rockbell." Sensei pronounced my full name slowly. "You are not the same girl you once were. You were defenseless, weak, and full of hatred and fear. No offense," he joked. I didn't smile. He dropped the teasing tone. "But now you are strong. Stronger than him. Stronger than your past. Stronger than I would have ever been if I'd suffered through what you did." I looked up at him, shocked.

"But…" I protested, reverting to that childlike girl I was when we'd first met. "But Sensei, no one's stronger than you. No one."

"Ah, ai, you flatter me." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "But no matter. It's time you faced him. I don't think you'll ever be truly free if you continue hiding. I'm not saying hiding is wrong, it was the smart thing to do," he added quickly, seeing my expression. "But now you're strong enough to face your demon and overcome him."

I nodded. I knew that monster couldn't hurt me physically; I'd been trained in martial arts since I was seventeen. Now I was twenty two and absolutely deadly. But I was terrified my mind would overtake my body and I'd succumb to the memories.

Sensei guessed what I was thinking. "This is one rare circumstance where hate could be useful. If you use it as fuel while simultaneously letting it go, it would be very beneficial. Because if you succumb to him—" Sensei's voice changed; I'd never heard him speak with this much emotion. "If you succumb to him, you'll be lost to me forever." His eyes met mine and I gasped at the fire burning in them. My heart was racing.

After a moment, though, the fire died, and Sensei was Sensei again. "Come, we must continue training. You'll need the practice." He rose and took his fighting stance. "Attack."

I grinned and launched myself into battle.

We sparred the rest of the afternoon. Sensei didn't have a class today, and it was sunset when we finally called it quits.

Sensei stood in the locker room door as I made my way to the front room. "You must hurry," he urged. "The last thing you want is for him to come looking for you."

I nodded solemnly, glancing at the clock. I had about an hour before I was supposed to meet him at the café down the street from my old house. Just enough time to run home and shower and put on a deceptively defenseless façade.

I bowed. "Thank you, Sensei." I waited for him to say his usual farewell back.

Instead, he said, "Go forth, ai, and win your battle.

I jogged home, pounding up the stairs to my nondescript apartment. I'd sold my childhood home and moved here, hoping to distance myself from the memories. I still had nightmares about my old bedroom.

I screeched to a halt in front of my door. Something wasn't right. Someone had been here. The air was… disturbed. I can't explain it; it's something Sensei taught me. Someone other than me had been through this door and they hadn't left. I opened the door and dropped into a half crouch, on high alert.

Yes, someone was definitely in here. The air felt wrong. There was no way I was going to let him stay, though. I could sense his malevolent presence, watching me.

"Come out, you coward!" I called. My voice quivered with rage and fear.

A laugh sounded somewhere to my right, a cruel, bone chilling laugh. I slunk toward it, shifting into hunting mode. I was almost to the spot where I thought the voice was when light flooded the room from my single lamp on the end table. My hunting skills were spot-on; I was face to face with my demon, my Satan, the source of my life's deterioration. The man who'd taken everything from me.

I was locked in the gaze of Edward Elric.