Archive of Our Own

She awoke with a start, and a panic that sunk deep into her bones. Stifling a sob, she slowly sat up, knowing any attempt to fall back asleep would be a waist of time. She closed her eyes and put her hand on her her forehead, wiping away the cold sweat that had appeared there. She knew the nightmare had been horrible, more so than any she'd had in a long while. But what had it been about? She clenched her teeth.

Finally, it came back to her, and she shivered.

That's right, she thought, her teeth pressing together harder. Twelve was... he was... She didn't want to think it, but the dream showed up in her mind in perfect clarity, no hint that her imagination had made it up. That made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. There had been the detective Shibazaki, showing up at the place Nine and Twelve had been victims of the Athena project. She winced as she remembered the detective pointing his gun at the two boys, saying he was going to turn them in, but only to be interrupted by the many, many-- how had they had that many?-- American Military helicopters that showed up, ruining any chance of hope with their horribly loud blades. And then they'd pointed they're guns. And Nine had held up the button... And there had been a shot.

In her dream, she recalled herself feeling as if she'd turned to ice, all from one sound. Because her eyes had been on Twelve, and all she'd seen was a spray of something horribly red that came from his chest... And then he'd fallen. A bright, beautiful light, suddenly gone from the world. Without any argument. A life that, just as quickly as it had appeared, had vanished.

But no, that was crazy. Barbaric. None of that actually happened, she told herself, as she went through the true events of yesterday. Shibazaki appeared-- yes, that had actually happened. He'd had his gun, just like the dream, said he was going to turn in Nine and Twelve for what they'd done, because that's what the boys had wanted. And yes, the helicopters had appeared. That was where the similarities ended.

Because Shibazaki had reasoned with the American military, hadn't he? He'd convinced the military soldiers to lower their weapons. How he'd done so, though, she couldn't remember, no matter how hard she thought. She gave up, telling herself she was still groggy with sleep, and that stupid dream had probably jumbled her memories temporarily, too.

After the detective had convinced the Americans... She carefully filed through the events of the day before. One of the helicopters had landed, and a man had emerged from it. Shibazaki and the man had talked, or tried to with their separate languages, and eventually, it had seemed they had come up with a decision. The older detective had walked up to Nine and Twelve and bluntly explained, "You will be taken to court in Tokyo. The judge there will choose whether or not you really are guilty. Until then, you can come back to my house and stay there."

And it was as simple as that. No killing-- nothing like her dream. Shibazaki had taken them back to where he lived, like he said he would, shown them to some spare rooms, and Lisa had fallen asleep quickly. Today, Nine and Twelve would be held in court and the judge would tell whether they would be free or held in prison. The events in her dream hadn't been real. Then why did she still feel that horrible ice in her veins, the same feeling she'd gotten when she'd seen Twelve--

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. "Y-yes?" she spoke, in her normal shy, quiet tone. The one Twelve had called a pale yellow. The door opened. Speak of the devil. She started smiling, whatever she'd been thinking earlier disappearing as soon as it had shown up.

"Lisa," Twelve said, a smile brighter than the sun on his face. "Good morning."

"...Good morning," she replied.

He came to sit on a free spot on the bed, and she tried not to blush. "How did you sleep?"

"Well," she said, slowly. "And you?"

"Well," he replied. He was silent for a moment, before his smile slowly fell and he said, "You look pale. Are you okay?"

"W-what? Oh. Um. Yes, I just, um, had a... a nightmare." She felt awkward admitting it, like a child.

Twelve nodded, gave her a small smile, and held out his hand for her. She smiled, gratefully, reaching her hand to take it. She wanted to feel the warmth of it she'd felt before, wanting to feel it to reassure her. She took it, her face flushing as she felt...

Cold. His hand was cold. Cold as ice. She tried to suppress a shiver as she ripped her hand away. Twelve looked at her with a hint of disappointment. "You're freezing!" she claimed, but it was a half lie, only said to reassure herself. His hand wasn't just freezing. That feeling of ice... she'd felt it before, was feeling it as he looked at her with a small smile.

"Sorry," he said, lightly, and she tried to forget about it.

An awkward silence filled the air between them, and she prayed he would say something. Anything. Knowing herself, she wouldn't be able to start up a lasting conversation. She looked down at her fidgeting hands atop the blanket. This was when she hated her personality. She'd let herself be bullied at a younger age, and it led to this. She was still bullied, still unable to do anything about it. And she tried. But you can't just change yourself. It wasn't that is easy. You had to have a reason.

"Are you okay?" Twelve said suddenly, causing her head to whip up and face him. "After what happened yesterday?"

"Hm? Oh." She replied, intelligently. "Um, yes. I-I'm fine."

But she wasn't, especially after her nightmare, especially with that feeling of ice that had calmed to a cold, hollow feeling in her stomach. And she knew he wasn't an idiot; he knew she was lying. A look of sadness and regret washed over his face.

God, why did he look so sad? She wanted to ask him, wanted so badly to make him drop his guard. But she couldn't. It made her want to burst into tears. She lowered her gaze back to her hands. Why did everything feel so wrong? Everything felt so incorrect. Yet she wasn't sure she wanted to know why. Something in the back of her head told her that if she knew why, everything would be even more wrong, even more incorrect, because she knew it had everything to do with that dream.

"Lisa."

She slowly lifted her head to face him. His voice was like a song. She wanted to know the colour of it, the way he knew the colour of hers. It was so soft, so calming. She basked in it, letting her worries fade away, if only for a little while. He had such a beautiful voice, Lisa thought, and didn't notice her choice of words.

"I need you to promise me something," he said soothingly, not giving her a chance to reply. She could tell he was hiding his feelings; his eyes gave it away. "Promise me that you will have a good life, and that you will be happy. Please. Nine and I will be fine, and we'll always be with you, even if we aren't right beside you. We'll be fine, so don't worry about us. Promise me you will do that for me."

She felt paralyzed. What was she supposed to say to a thing like that? But that ice feeling was threatening to return, so she finally spat out, "O-okay. I promise, Twelve."

His relief was so obvious, so profound, it scared her. Why would he ask her to make such a promise? Nine and I will be fine, and we'll always be with you, even if we aren't right beside you. What was that supposed to mean? If this was some sort of prank...

But no, she knew it wasn't. Because as she caught Twelve's gaze, she saw the emotion in his eyes. And she noticed the glimmer of possible tears as he turned his head.

"Thank you, Lisa."

Those words were what started the tears. They were only trickles, but either way, she couldn't stop them. Because his words... They were so hopeful, so full of belief, it made her heart ache. "I-it will be fine!" she started saying, more so to calm herself down. She wiped her tears with the edge of the blanket. "Detective Shibazaki will be at court, he can be your witness. You'll be fine. You and Nine."

But she didn't believe a single word, no matter how hard she strained to. They were too forced, too happy. And she knew, as she looked up and heard "Yeah, you're right," that Twelve didn't believe her either.

He caught her glance and held it. He held it so intensely, with so much sadness behind it. It was so fierce, she thought there wasn't a thing in the universe that could break it apart. She took it in, that strength, knowing she'd need it, and in turn, gave him some of her own. Because even if she was weak, even if she couldn't start up a conversation without stuttering, he and Nine were the ones who had allowed her to be strong in a way that was her own. And she was so extremely thankful for that.

He leaned in towards her, and before she could comprehend what was happening, kissed her. By now, she was pretty sure she knew the truth of what was happening, why everything felt so wrong and out of place. And maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her, maybe she just needed to pretend this was real for a minute, let her mind give her a happy ending before she faced reality, but Twelve felt warm.

She breathed him in. He smelled of sweat and sunshine. She never knew sunshine could have a sent. It was beautiful, sweet and simple, and it just reminded her of that bright thing in the sky, of the smile Twelve would give her. As they kissed, Lisa remembered the event that began the change in her life. For years she'd thought she'd never be able to change. Anyone should be able to change, but she was just too... shy. Too scared of it. She knew she wouldn't be able to change herself by herself. And then this foolish boy came along one day, jumping into a pool-- and into her life.

At that moment, somehow, Lisa knew her life would finally get the change it needed.

And then there'd been the bombing, when she'd seen too much and they had given her a choice. A simple one, yet so complex. Die, or become their accomplice. She'd went for the obvious one, of course, because here she was. Alive.

The memory of her running from home came to Lisa next. She couldn't stand another day at that house. Couldn't stand to see her mother so... broken. She'd needed out. And she supposed, thinking back on it, that her decision had been on a whim; she hadn't let herself give it much thought. And all of a sudden there were men around her, threatening her, threatening her life. Then Twelve was there, riding like mad on a motorcycle, which she was suddenly on, too.

Her heart was beating fast, so fast, as Twelve kissed her, and she returned the kiss, as her mind went through the events that had led to this.

After she'd gotten on Twelve's motorcycle, they had ridden (though in her memory it had felt more like flying, they'd gone so fast) back to Twelve and Nine's hideout. And Nine had been waiting for them. Lisa knew the main reason Nine had acted like he hated her was because he didn't want to start caring for someone else, didn't want to risk having another weakness. And she understood that. But she could never help being a tiny bit jealous of the relationship Twelve and Nine had. They seemed to know each other's every move before they'd make it. To her, that was beautiful.

She'd tried to help them out, tried to cook for them, which hadn't gone so well. She smiled embarrassingly against Twelve's lips as she thought of the many burnt courses she'd tried to feed them. Twelve, of course, had acted like it was fine, but Nine had been plenty annoyed, and hadn't been afraid to show it. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for the two of them.

And, of course, when she felt they'd had enough of her, she'd ran away. She supposed that was a bit of a record, running away from what she called home twice and a short matter of time. And, foolishly, she'd been captured in the process. If you were to ask her what the scariest moment of her life was, she would say when she'd woken up to Five in front of her, with her perfect outfit, perfect makeup, and big yet flattering white hair. She wasn't going to lie, she had felt terrified. That sudden feeling of loneliness that she hadn't felt in a while, thanks to Twelve, and even Nine. The feeling didn't compare to when she was in that Ferris Wheel, a vest made of bombs strapped to her.

She'd been scared then, too. But at that time, Twelve had come for her. He'd been there. That was the exact moment she'd realized how much her life had changed, as Twelve worked on the bombs, his hands careful yet hurried. That was the moment she'd realized how thankful she'd been that Twelve and Nine existed in her life. That was also when she'd made peace with her shy, closed-in life. She'd been okay with letting it go.

But Twelve hadn't let her. So when Five had given him a choice, her or Nine, he had chosen her. And she knew part of him had regretted it.

After the Ferris Wheel incident, she'd felt guilty. Guilty for possibly ruining the friendship Twelve and Nine had-- the one she'd always envied. She had felt so guilty, it was tearing her apart inside, and she only felt worse when she realized the only thing she could do was encourage Twelve to stop the wall that was slowly forming between them. So when she'd heard that Nine had turned himself in to the cops, she's told Twelve to go after him. To save him. God, she'd practically forced the boy. As Twelve gathered her in his strong arms, which, she realized absently, were starting to feel less warm, she let lose the regret and guilt that she could still feel. It was useless to feel such things, when something had already happened and she couldn't just go back in time and fix them with a snap of her fingers.

The last thing she brought up from her memory was still fresh, still felt as if it had only happened a minute ago. She recalled Nine's look as he hammered the wood pillar into the ground, with a sloppily written "5" engraved at the top. It was a look of sadness, and yet a look of hope as well. It gave her a sense of relief. She had been afraid to find Nine broken. She couldn't begin to imagine him broken. She remembered her relief expanding when Nine had said to Twelve, "I owe you one."

Lisa smiled a real smile against Twelve's lips as her mind took her to that last happy moment the three of them had together. Nine had found an old ball and they'd tossed it around to pass time, only to find that Lisa couldn't kick it for her life. They'd laughed with her, teased her to no end, and she had felt so completely happy, a feeling she hadn't felt so intensely before.

Twelve had been fiddling with an old tap, trying to get it to work, he'd told Lisa, but hadn't gone into more detail, as Nine pulled out his iPod, put in his ear buds, and just listened, looking so peaceful as he closed his eyes and leaned back on the box he was sitting on. She couldn't help but go towards him and ask him about it, about the music she'd found him listening to many times before. He had studied her for a moment, and finally seemed to decide to trust her and tell her. She had listened so intently as he told her about the music from a cold land, and admitted that the cold land was Iceland. He'd then told her that "VON", which she'd seen him and Twelve use on many occasions, but never known why, meant "hope". She'd tried not to let her threatening tears escape as he said that, because that one word had meant so much to her through her life, and she knew it only meant more to them still.

Nine had given her an understanding look, and passed her one of the ear buds. She had taken it gratefully, and her eyes widened as she heard the beautiful music coming from such a small thing. She couldn't understand the lyrics, as they were Icelandic, but she found herself turning the notes into meaning, and feeling that meaning so truly in her heart. She found that she understood this music, and wanted it to be heard by every living thing. But she just smiled at Nine slightly, who gave her what he might have called a smile in returm, and she just stood next to him as the song continued, closing her eyes with him and letting the tune flow.

Which had been rudely interrupted by a spray of freezing cold water, courtesy of Twelve, who had apparently gotten the old tap into working condition. Nine had scolded that the water could ruin his iPod, but Lisa and Twelve just laughed. Eventually, he let out a chuckle too.

And then it was her dream all over again. The detective Shibazaki came, pointed his gun, said he would turn them in. Twelve had gestured to Lisa, told the detective that she was only a hostage, that he needed to protect her, take care of her. What a contrast, she thought, between when they'd first really met, and she'd been given the choice to die or be an accomplice. Then the helicopters flew over their heads, and and the American military had threatened to kill them. But Nine, oh, Nine, he held up that stupid button and told them he would press it if they didn't retreat. Some part of Lisa really respected him for holding his ground until the very end.

Lisa would never forget that pure ice feeling she'd had when Twelve was shot. She'd never forget how the light in his eyes seemed to fade, how his body turned empty. In the end, she supposed, that was what everyone we knew turned out to be. A body.

But the thing that made her break the most inside wasn't only Twelve's death, but Nine. He dropped onto his knees in front of the body and screamed. It was so loud, so full of emotion, of despair, she thought her ears would explode. Yet she couldn't bring herself to cover them. It was a scream that needed to be heard. As Lisa watched the tears running down Nine's face, she realized just how tragic it would've been had Nine not forgiven Twelve. They truly were the only family for each other. They had had no one else, ever. Hadn't known their parents, hadn't even owned real names.

And when Nine finally stood up, Shibazaki was the only one able to stop him from pressing the button in his hand. Lisa could only stand there, only look at Nine as he began to look dazed, holding his head as if in pain, and as if he were using the last of his strength to keep himself upright. He'd looked into the detective's eyes, and said the words that she knew would be the most fresh in her memory for a long time to come. "Remember us," he'd said to the older man. "Remember... that we lived." And then he'd collapsed, with one final look in Lisa's direction.

Lisa pulled away from Twelve, tears flowing from her eyes. She pulled her hands away from his soft, feather-life hair, no memory of raising her hands in the first place. The boy in front of her didn't need to ask, only sat there as she put her face into those hands and sobbed, letting her emotions take tole, letting the surge of despair come and pass.

Finally, when she thought the worst of her sobs were over, she looked at Twelve and said, simply, "Why?"

Twelve stared at her sadly. "Because Nine and I weren't meant to be."

She stared at him, her mouth open slightly. How could he say such a thing? How could he think... oh. Oh. "B-because... of the Athena project... right?" She asked sadly, knowing the answer, but needing closure.

Twelve just nodded.

She remembered Nine, holding his head as if in pain, wobbling on his feet. Even Five, when she was talking to Lisa at that terrifying moment. She had seemed to be in pain, too. Had acted as if she had a headache...

She looked at Twelve, who had gotten up. "Remember your promise."

Ah, her promise. Now she knew why he'd made her swear it. But she didn't want to have to make such a promise to him. She didn't want him to say it like it was the last time... The last time they'd see each other. This isn't fair! she thought childishly, unable to help herself. There was that feeling of ice again, threatening to take over her, to flow through her until she wouldn't be able to feel anything else, any other emotion.

Twelve leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. He was cold again. "Lisa..."

Whatever he was about to say was gone as the door opened behind him, revealing a sheepish Nine. "Are you done?" He asked Twelve.

Oh, she realized, sadly. So these are their goodbyes.

As if confirming, Twelve faced her, and said, with a sad tone, "Goodbye, Lisa."

He left, placing a hand on Nine's shoulder as he walked out the door, leaving Lisa with sad, wide eyes, unable to move or say anything. Nine walked in, closing the door behind him, and stood at the foot of her bed. She couldn't bring herself to face him. She remembered that horrible scream, the last look he had given her as he collapsed...

"Don't hang your head."

Surprised, she looked up at him. He wasn't wearing his glasses, and Lisa wondered if he even needed them.

"Please keep your promise," Nine said to her in a casual tone. But his eyes gave away a slight sadness, and his hands were stuffed in his pockets, seemingly clenched. "For... for Twelve, I mean."

There was more behind that, she knew. He was holding back, as usual, trying not to get too attached. "I-I will. I promise you I will." She replied, meaning every word.

A slight smile. "Thank you," he said softly. "And... Lisa?"

"Um, yes?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, seeming shy. Lisa couldn't help but give a quick small smile as he had to look away. "You remember what I told you? About the meaning of "VON"?" he asked.

Lisa cocked her head to the side. "Y-yes. It means "hope", right?" She didn't need to confirm it, though. She would remember it for the rest of her life. She made a silent promise of that, too.

Nine nodded. "Keep having hope. Don't waste your life. Make it worth while." It sounded like a demand, but Lisa didn't care. Those words meant everything to her. Keep having hope. She had wanted someone to tell her that her whole life, but no one had. And now... The person who had saved her was saving her again.

Lisa smiled at him. "I will, Nine."

He smiled back. A bit. "Good," A second passed, and he was silent, but then looked her in the eyes. "I never hated you, you know."

Lisa smiled wider. "I know, Nine."

He smiled wider, too. Only by a bit. "Good."

"Nine?" She said, knowing she needed to tell him before he left. Knowing, even though she wouldn't be able to get across just how much she meant it in but a couple words, she needed to try. "Thank you. So much."

His smile dropped and he gave her a look of surprise. "Um... You're welcome," he replied, and gave her a knowing look. "Hey... Make sure you remember us, please, okay? Don't forget us."

She dropped her smile. Those same words... "I will." her voice was thick with oncoming tears.

One last small smile. "Goodbye, Lisa Mishima." And with that, he was gone.

Lisa stared at the closed door, feeling empty. It hurt. She wanted to say more. She wanted to talk to them more. She wanted to relive the good parts of yesterday. She wanted to put Nine's ear bud in her ear again, hear that beautiful music. Would she ever hear that music again? The ice was growing in her veins, making her frozen. She couldn't move.

And she felt tired. Why did she feel so tired? Her eyes kept blurring, and her eyelids were drooping... She tried to stay awake, but she couldn't. She fell onto the mattress, squishing the pillow beneath her head, feeling as though she were sinking...

 

She woke up. For real, this time.

"It was a dream." Lisa said, and smiled.

No. It wasn't a smile. It was the complete opposite. It was a grimace, she found, as the tears came in rivers down her cheeks. They were gone... Twelve... Nine...

Just like that.

Were those their souls, in the dream? Is that why Twelve felt like ice? Yes, she realized, as she felt that feeling all over her body. It was the feeling of despair. And of death. A feeling of despair and death, mixed together to create one horrible thing. She cried her heart out, tasting the salty tears in her mouth, her nose running. She was a ball of despair, running desperately to hang onto something that would anchor her to the real world before she could no longer stand it. Her heart hurt. Everything hurt. She'd never felt a pain like this before.

She looked at the room around her. It was the same room as in the dream; Shibazaki's guest room. Right, she thought, remembering. Shibazaki had brought her to his house after... after...

Another burst of tears. I'm alone now, she thought, depressingly. Why does this happen? I was so happy, and now...

Suddenly, there was a voice in her mind. Stop, it said, sounding very familiar. Stop thinking that. Remember you're promise to Twelve.

Nine...? She thought. But the voice was gone. It had been Nine, hadn't it? She took a deep breath, telling herself to calm down. She remembered her conversation with him. She recalled him telling her to keep holding on to hope. She'd made a promise to him, and to Twelve. A promise to both of them that she'd be happy, that she wouldn't dwell in the past, that she wouldn't worry about them. They were in a better place now.

It didn't stop her tears, though. She had a feeling it would take a while for her crying to stop, but she made peace with that. Because she was already a step ahead. If Twelve and Nine hadn't visited her in that dream, she feared she would be much worse off. She feared her healing would have taken much, much longer.

It's hard, caring for someone, she thought, as her tears slowed to a trickle. But it is also beautiful.

She got up off of the mattress, moving towards the window. She drew the curtains to the side, and winced at the bright light that reminded her so much of Twelve's smile...

She opened the window, letting in a burst of fresh air. She breathed it in gratefully as she leaned against the sill. She saw a lone bird gliding through the sky. She couldn't help but worry for it. But as if on cue, two others joined it. She smiled, and the thought of Five, Nine, and Twelve passed through her head. "Have you reunited?" She asked the birds, the sky. She hoped they had. She hoped Twelve and Nine had reunited with all of the others from project Athena.

As the birds flew away from her line of sight, she wondered if Twelve and Nine would be birds in their second life, if there was a second life. She vowed to always look for birds in the sky after that.

"Thank you," she whispered to the sky. "I will keep my promise. And always remember you."

She would make sure her great-grandchildren knew about the story of Nine and Twelve, and make sure they would pass it on for generations to come. Maybe I'll write a book, she thought, wondering if she'd be capable of such a thing. Maybe she'd take a writing class.

She looked down at her hand, and let one last tear escape her eye, the feeling of ice, she noticed, gone.

Because her hand had been tracing, over and over, three letters.

V-O-N