Lisa POV. This chapter is not directly linked to the episodes in the anime. Title applies in both good and bad ways.

Enjoy~

Lisa blew gently over the steamy cup of ramen. She gazed at the two guys over the edge of her cup. Twelve was still wearing his shoes; he had just returned from getting their dinner. The scene almost looked normal, or even homey; three teenagers sitting on the couches together, enjoying some hot ramen on a quiet night. Almost. Between every blow she inhaled the thick scent that seemed to clot in her throat. She kept reconsidering letting the cup slip from her hands and kept telling herself that she couldn't do that. She tried to distract herself from it by observing them. They were already eating. The sound of their chewing and swallowing was too loud. It became harder and harder to ignore the knot in her stomach.

"Lisa," Twelve suddenly said. It didn't startle her, even though she had been absent-minded. She had awaited, no, dreaded this moment. "Is something wrong?"

"No," She whispered, a lot weaker than she had expected to.

"Don't you like ramen? I bought the same one you had last time, you seemed to like that one."

"I do," She answered, glancing towards Nine who didn't even seem to notice them. How tempted she was to just let go of the cup. She was so nauseous. But he had bought it especially for her. Her favourite kind, shio ramen, with dried seaweed, eggs and menma. She wasn't sure whether to be surprised that he had remembered it so well.

"If you aren't hungry, you can eat it later," He said.

She looked up to him, and for a split second a weigh was lifted from her stomach. He smiled and she quickly averted her eyes. She wanted to recoil, to tell him she was alright. Or that it was just because of her fever, which had almost passed. But both of them understood that it was too late for that.

He paused eating for a moment to give her a warm smile, "Put it in the kitchen. Maybe you'll want it later."

It should have been embarrassing. It was silly and rude not to eat the food he had provided for her. But she didn't feel ashamed. She was so glad. So glad that he understood. She stood up quickly, unintentionally spilling the soup a little. As soon as the hot liquid touched her fingers she froze and a loud, shattering noise filled the room.

There was a moment of dead silence in which she didn't even feel the pain. It were but fractions of seconds. The scalding heat clamped to her legs and shards bit into her skin. Her mouth opened but not a sound came out.

Twelve rushed to her side. "Don't move," He motioned for her to stay where she was.

Her eyes were brimming, not just because of the burns and cuts. She stared at her hands, empty now. Why did she have to be so useless? She couldn't even decently hold a cup of soup. One damned cup of soup. Why did she have to fail at every single thing she did?

"Are you okay?" Twelve broke her train of thoughts. She didn't look up to him however. Her view was blurry. She didn't make a noise whilst the tears fell, one by one.

"Lisa?" Suddenly his hands were holding hers. He didn't yell. He didn't shout. He didn't say a word. He just held them. She slowly squeezed his hands and inhaled deeply.

The corners of his mouth curled up, almost automatically. He spoke calmly and kindly, "Let's get you out of this mess."

She nodded weakly and stared at the pool of hot ramen and shards of ceramic. Her bare feet were turning a fiery pink, littered with lines of red.

"Don't move," Nine said, and it took her a moment to get he was talking to her specifically. "Make one step and you'll cause more damage than there already is."

Twelve pursed his lips for a moment, as if he mused over something, and then stepped closer to her. His shoes gnashed over the shards. She almost backed away when he stood so close to her, but Nine's friendly advice reminded her not to. "I'll pick you up."

Her eyebrows rose. "Pick me up?"

"Yes," He said and opened his arms, "I'll carry you to safety."

"You'll just carry her from one mess into another," Nine stated matter-of-factly, still merely observing the scene as if he was not quite sure what he could do best. Then he put down his cup and disappeared into the kitchen.

Lisa bit her lip. They were so close that she had trouble breathing. They let go of each other's hands. He bent down a bit, wrapping his arm around her waist to throw her over his shoulder. She immediately grabbed his shirt and pulled it with shaking hands, trying hard not to move out of her place. "D-don't do that," She muttered. Unwillingly, she remembered being carried out like that before. Just flashes of images and echoes of voices. They had been a bit taller and broader than Twelve. They had told her that if she liked the lake so much, she should just take a dive. And she had.

This was different, she knew, but still her hands didn't let go of his shirt and she knew she would push him away if he tried to lift her up like that. Twelve slowly straightened himself again. "I'm sorry," He moved to her side. "Then we'll do it this way, is that okay?"

She couldn't do but nod weakly and hold her breath as her picked her up. Bridal style, he carried her away. It were only a few steps, but Lisa's heartbeat grew faster and louder. She could feel blood rushing through her head and a tingle in her stomach. And not an entirely bad kind, for once. Twelve smiled brightly, with his cheeks flustered. She wondered whether he had ever looked that bright before. The space between their bodies grew very small and very warm.

Nine marched back into the living room with a few cleaning utensils. "We've got some band aid and other stuff in the bathroom. Make sure to use the disinfector."

Twelve insisted she should not walk, and she let him carry her to the bathroom. There she sat down on the edge of the bathtub. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," He reassured her immediately and kneeled down in front of her with a first-aid box. "You didn't do it on purpose."

"But I, I broke you cup and-"

He shushed her, gently. "That's ok. It's just a cup."

With that, she was silenced. Words lingered on her lips but she didn't dare to say any more. She liked to think that he didn't feel the unsaid thoughts weighing on the silence. Carefully, Twelve removed a few shards from her skin and disinfected the wounds. It went slowly, and as he focussed on each single cut, she focussed on his face. She paid attention to his long eyelashes, his messy hair and his lips that probably still tasted like ramen.

"You're stronger than I thought," He suddenly broke the silence.

She hadn't expected him to say anything, and kept quiet.

He didn't look up from the cut he was disinfecting. "You haven't made a sound."

"You have very steady hands," She muttered after a pause. "Being a bomb-dismantler, I guess that's normal."

She meant what she said but her words came out so powerless. The corner of Twelve's mouth twitched. His face was still. The silence that ensued made her realise how exhausted she was. It was a hollowing kind of tiredness. All she could do was stay still and hope she could return to her bed soon.

He raised his head to her. A crooked smile was plastered over his doubt. "Something wrong?"

"No." They both heard yes and didn't have to wonder whether the other had heard it too.

He ran his thumb over a long scar. His face was blank. "This one looks old."

"Does it?" She breathed. "Maybe it's from a certain explosion." It could have sounded cool, referring to their first meeting as if the explosion had been a casual part of their encounter, at least to her it could have been cool. But her voice was emotionless just like his eyes. All she felt was his cold finger slowly stroking the scar.

"It's definitely from before we met," He said as if it mattered.

The day they met. The heat in her feet reminded her of the summer sun that day. She almost saw the swimming pool in front of her again. Maybe Twelve felt the splash of the cold water on his skin again, because she thought he looked like he was drowning a slowly on the inside. Her eyes trailed back to the scar. "I've been bullied with more than water."

The blank expression melted from his face and she almost wished she hadn't said anything. He didn't move for a while and she didn't dare to speak anymore.

"Tell me," Twelve suddenly said, almost tenderly, "What were you thinking about?"

He had bent his head down slightly so that she couldn't see his face. Instead, she eyed his curly hair and wondered how soft in would feel between her fingers. The words just echoed in her head, before she could recognise a meaning in them. "What I was thinking about? When?"

"Before I told you to put you cup away." He continued. "Something has been bothering you."

She studied the ground before daring to look at him. "I just," Her breath hung in her throat. The previous silences still lingered in the air. It felt as if there was a thin glass between them and every word ricocheted against it, leaving behind little scratches and cracks. He looked up to her, as if he felt the presence of the glass between them as well. As if he had carried it with him all his life. And he smiled. "Go on."

"I wondered," She carefully allowed the words to fall over her lips, "Why Nine didn't go to the hospital with his burn. And, why the whole bomb thing failed so badly that time. And why you bomb things, and terrorize Tokyo without actually harming-" She inhaled shakily.

Twelve didn't look surprised to hear her words. His eyes were a shade of sadness that weighed heavy on her chest. Again his hands reached out for hers. He held them as if they were made out of porcelain and if he would let them go they would break just like cups of soup did and dreams too.

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