Comfort

The small apartment, always messy, felt different that night. The faint light from the makeshift chandelier softened the shadows, making the chaos more tolerable. Tools and mechanical parts still occupied the workbench in the corner, but for a moment, the space seemed to breathe. The warm, comforting smell of freshly delivered yakisoba filled the air, mixing with the gentle breeze slipping through the half-open window.

Outside, the world carried on uninterrupted. The hum of aging machines, hurried footsteps, and distant sirens brought the city’s noise inside, a constant reminder that nothing ever stopped—not for them. The metallic stench of pollution drifted in with the wind, but inside that apartment, around a small table, life shrank to just that moment.

Lucy let out a sound of pure delight as she took her first bite, tilting her head back as though she were on a gastronomic adventure.

“This is too good…” she murmured, her eyes closing briefly.

Leo watched his sister, a subtle smile tugging at his lips as he took a forkful of noodles. She looked so genuinely happy that even the sound of a fork scraping against the plate seemed lighter. Lucy had the talent to turn small moments into something special.

Leo himself felt the pain in his shoulder subside, almost forgotten under the effect of the painkillers. The occasional stabs of discomfort still reminded him of what had happened, but sitting at that table, the memories of the day weighed a little less. Maybe Lucy should start selling moments like this. He laughed to himself at the thought, a crooked smile slipping out before he realized it.

The calm, however, was a fragile veil. The weight in Leo’s chest soon returned, reminding him of what needed to be said. The knot in his throat tightened as he looked away from his plate.

“Lucy…” he began, his voice low, “I need to tell you something.”

She looked up, her fork frozen mid-air as she chewed slowly.

“Hm? What is it?”

Leo took a deep breath, the urgency pushing the words out before he could hold them back.

“I… got fired today. Because of the delivery, I screwed up.”

The sound of forks ceased for a moment. Lucy stared at him, motionless. There was no shock or frustration on her face—just a surprising calm that unsettled him.

“Well…” she finally said, placing her fork on her plate with a soft clink. “That kind of thing happens. What can we do?”

“That’s it?” Leo asked, confused by her serenity.

Lucy smiled, her gaze locking onto his like an anchor.

“You’ll find another job. Won’t you?”

Leo didn’t answer immediately, he just nodded slowly. How could she be so calm? Financial worries were a constant in their lives. He knew Lucy worked tirelessly on her projects, but few of them brought in the money they needed.

“Maybe you could take a few days to rest until you recover,” she suggested, returning to her plate as though the conversation were already over.

Leo looked away, feeling a mix of relief and irritation. Relief that she hadn’t scolded him; irritation because he couldn’t share her calm.

“You’re weirdly calm about this,” he muttered finally.

“It’s because I have a new client,” Lucy said, taking another bite. Her eyes sparkled with that familiar enthusiasm—the same one that appeared whenever she talked about a brilliant idea. “We’re working on something big. Something that could change a lot of lives.”

Leo leaned forward slightly, intrigued. “What is it?”

Lucy hesitated, her fork pausing halfway to her mouth.

“I can’t say much,” she replied, looking away. “Contract stuff.”

“Of course…” Leo couldn’t hide the skepticism in his voice, but Lucy continued.

“But it’s something important. Truly. For the first time, I feel like I can use what I know to help people. Not just fix old junk.”

Leo’s heart tightened as he listened to her. There was truth in her voice, but also a shadow of doubt.

“Is that why you’ve been getting home so late?” he asked.

Lucy nodded. “Yeah. They want full dedication. But don’t worry,” she added, trying to sound lighthearted. “It’s just for a while. After that, we’ll eat better than yakisoba.”

Leo forced a smile but couldn’t shake the discomfort. He knew his sister. He knew that spark in her eyes, but he also knew when something wasn’t right.

“And you trust this client?”

She shrugged. “I trust the project.”

The phrase was said with conviction, but there was a pause at the end, a hesitation she couldn’t quite hide.

“Sometimes he makes me uncomfortable,” she admitted, her gaze drifting for a moment. “Like he knows something he’s not sharing. But I think it’s worth the risk.”

Leo didn’t press further. He knew Lucy was smart and capable of taking care of herself. Even so, he couldn’t ignore the feeling that something was off.

“I’ll do my part too,” he said, breaking the silence. “Don’t worry—I’ll find a good job.”

Lucy looked at him and smiled in a way that made him feel like everything would be okay.

“Then we’ll both work hard together,” she said. “But first, let’s finish this yakisoba.”

Leo chuckled softly and returned to eating. When he moved too quickly, a sharp pain shot through his shoulder, making him wince.

“Easy there, tough guy,” Lucy teased, laughing. “Before you save the world, you need to heal first.”

They laughed together, and for a moment, the sound filled the apartment, drowning out the weight of their worries. It was a simple moment, but a precious one. The kind you cling to when things get hard.

Leo looked at his sister, her smile lighting up the room in a way no makeshift lamp could. It was one of those smiles that seemed to carry the weight of the world but still found a way to shine.

For a moment, the chaos outside didn’t exist. There were no sirens, no machines, no worries. Just Lucy, laughing with a fork in hand, and the feeling that maybe the world could be a little lighter if he could keep her like this.

Outside, the city still roared, relentlessly. But inside, in the comforting silence of the apartment, Leo made a promise to himself: he would do whatever it took to protect her. To give her a future that matched that smile.

Because they deserved something better.