He stared out the window to his right, watching as the snow gently drifted to the ground. It was almost hauntingly beautiful. They sky was grey and the streets were empty as usual, making the city seem like a ghost town, however, he was still mesmerized by the sight. The people of the city tended to treat some snow like a national disaster. They would shiver and cower in the warmth of their houses until the worst of it blew over. They would glare at the snow's grace in distaste...Deeming it nothing more than a nuisance as they shoved piles of it away and shuffled through the white blanket.
But he longed to be out there. He longed to be a part of that world, to be standing in the middle of the street, breathing in the crisp, frigid air as the unforgiving cold crawled through his veins. He knew it wasn't because he loved the cold. He had lived in France all his life, so the cold was natural. The icy, bleak streets were in his comfort zone.
No, he longed to be out the for two reasons and two reasons only.
Because of them.
Because of her.
They would love it. They would be out there, laughing and dancing around in the street like lunatics. He would somehow convince her to join their amusement, even though she hated the cold. He could picture every aspect of it, almost as if it had already happened. Like a memory he had refused to forget. He swallowed wearily as a pang of longing shot through his body. His eyes slid shut and his hands curled into fists, his fingernails digging into the skin of his palms.
When he closed his eyes, the image would be real. When he opened his eyes, she would be standing there in front of him, smiling that perfect smile with her beautiful black eyes. His heart sank farther down in his chest when he reopened his eyes to find that he was still sitting in the small white room...Still confined in a world that he didn't belong in.
"So...Mr. Stern, how are we feeling today?" The woman finally asked, her nasally voice cutting through the brief silence like a knife.
He sighed quietly and pulled his attention away from the window, readjusting his position in his armchair as he regarded the therapist with irritation.
"I don't know what we're feeling...And frankly, I don't care." Ulrich growled, running his fingers through his unkempt brown hair. "But, I'm feeling just fine."
The woman exhaled with a hint of annoyance. At least they were on the same page with each other. She typed a few more notes onto her laptop that rested upon her lap. She tensed her jaw as she resisted saying anything to the teenager as she adjusted her giant round glasses. She looked as if she were ready to strangle him. He held his gaze, daring her.
He had to suppress a smile at his small victory. That was the exact reaction he wanted from her. Even though she should be the one playing mind games, Ulrich was always one step ahead of her and every other psychologist or therapist they sent in here. The sooner she grew tired of putting up with his nonsense, the sooner she would give up on him. Once that happened, he could then officially denounce therapy or talking out his problems as a lost cause in his case and his parents would just have to accept the facts.
"You aren't going to get better if you don't cooperate with me, Mr. Stern." She snarled stiffly.
He propped his feet on the coffee table as he reclined in his seat, the lopsided smirk spreading across his lips.
"I've said this about a million times but it seems you people can't take a hint...I don't want to get better, especially since there's nothing wrong with me in the first place."
She gestured for him to remove his shoes from the table, but the only response she got was the roll of his eyes and an unimpressed snort.
"I'm here to help you, Ulrich." She stated, like every other person to ever step in this room. "I'm not the enemy."
"You can't give help to someone who doesn't want it." He snapped.
"Well, you may not want it, but you definitely need it."
He scoffed, looking back to the window. He didn't have the time or diligence for this lady's foolishness.
"You were probably thinking about them again earlier, weren't you?" She asked, eyes narrowing. Ulrich remained silent. The therapist murmured something quietly, taking the dead air as a sort of confirmation. "Look, Ulrich...You need to understand that what you're doing to yourself isn't healthy or normal." She continued, attempting to sooth him. "Your parents asked me to have these sessions with you because they're extremely worried about you. Everyone is."
"No one cares...No one is worried." Ulrich muttered. "Thanks to all of this, people at school look at me as if I'm mentally unstable and treat me like I'm some sort of insane person waiting to have a breakdown. My parents are doing this not because they care, but because they don't want their only son to be seen as a psychopath." His voice faded back into the eerie silence, his jaw tense.
"Having an imagination is wonderful, however, in your case, you've immersed yourself in this fantasy to the point in which you're miserable in the real world. You can't cope without this...Lyoko as you call it. It's become your drug and you're hopelessly addicted."
"It's not-" He choked out before cutting himself off and looking down at the floor.
"Go on." She demanded gently.
"It's not a fantasy." He spoke quietly, but surely at the same time. "It's not. This world is the fantasy...The nightmare I always seem to wake up into. You can't make me sit here and force me to believe that a world without my best friends in it is real. You just can't."
"But, these people you talk about, some of them do exist." She placed the laptop aside, pulling out a folder with pictures. "Jeremie Belpois, ninth grader at Kadic Academy. He is real, but...He committed suicide a year ago. Mr. Belpois had been bullied for years and had enough of it. Odd Della Robbia was arrested for theft two years ago with a girl who claimed to be his girlfriend named Samantha Knight. And this Aelita girl, she's a famous DJ." She handed Ulrich a copy of a magazine with Aelita's photo on it's cover. "Your parents tell me that you've never met. But, this girl..."
The therapist slid a picture of a Japanese teenager from the portfolio. It was a rough sketch, but her short black hair and her unmistakable dark eyes gave it all away. His eyes widened and he snatched the photo out of her hand.
"Ulrich, she's a figment of your imagination! She's-"
"She has a name..." He interrupted, his expression softening as he examined her portrait. "W-Why can't you just say it?"
"Because she doesn't-"
"-Yumi Ishiyama." He stated, his voice wavering slightly. "Her name is Yumi Ishiyama."
The therapist shifted in her seat awkwardly.
"There is no Yumi Ishiyama, Ulrich." She explained slowly. "There never was. There is only one Ishiyama family in the area and they only have a son named Hiroki. Unlike the others, she doesn't exist and she never did."
He shook his head, unable to accept any of this. He took a deep breath to calm himself. "Look, I didn't exactly pay attention in any of the classes I've ever had, so believe me when I say I'm not smart enough to create an entire person...Let alone an entire world...Besides, you can't just come in here and tell me that my closest friends are either dead, in prison or that I've never met them."
"The mind is a fascinating thing. It's capable of much more than we're aware of...And in your case, it was capable of creating this realistic, acceptable fantasy. I believe it's a coping mechanism. Your life has been quite rough and far from easy. W-Wait! Where are you going?!"
He's gotten up from his seat and grabbed his jacket from off the table. "I...Can't do this anymore. The only reason I'm in here with you is because my parents forced it upon me." He hissed, shrugging his jacket on. "But I refuse to sit here and listen to this condescending, judgmental and close minded session you call therapy. I won't believe you when you tell me that the girl I've loved all my life is fake!"
She furrowed her brow. "It's not-"
"Just save it for someone who actually cares." Ulrich cut in coldly. "You're wasting your time with me, time that could be used on someone right now who actually wants and needs it."
He stalked out the door, slamming it shut in his wake just before she could reply. He shut his eyes and leaned against the wall, sliding down to the ground wearily. He was sick and tired of being told he was crazy. He was sick and tired of being told she didn't exist. It made him want to break down and scream to the world they called reality. Why couldn't he just stay forever in the world of his fantasy?
"Ulrich?" A beautiful voice whispered in his ear. "What are you doing down here?"
His eyes flew open and he smiled widely as he found himself gazing into a pair of familiar dark eyes.
He examined his surroundings, finding that he was no longer in the hallway outside of the prison they call the therapist's office. A wave of relief washed over his body and he felt himself relax for the first time in days. Everything was right in his world again. He was where he belonged.
He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, breathing in her calming scent. "I missed you." He murmured into her hair.
Yumi giggled and pushed him away from her playfully, her eyes shining brightly. "You just saw me like an hour ago." She pointed out. "Stop being so clingy."
"I'll show you clingy." He threatened light heartedly before lunging forward and pinning her to the bed.
"U-Ulrich! What are you- No!" She squirmed beneath him, laughing and yelping as he tickled her sides.
"Who's the best boyfriend in the world?" He asked, tickling her harder.
"You are! You are!" She gasped through her fit of laughter. "You're the best boyfriend!"
He stopped tickling her and leaded down to place a soft kiss on her warm and flushed cheek. She cupped his face with her hands and pulled him in for a real kiss at the last second, sighing happily against his lips. When she pulled away, she wore a soft smile on her face.
There was a knock on the door.
"Oh! That must be the others!" She said, hopping off the bed and pulling him up with her. "Jeremie wanted to have a meeting about a new thing he fixed up for the Skid on Lyoko."
She opened the door and three more of his best friends walked in.
"Are we interrupting anything?" Odd winked suggestively.
Ulrich chuckled as Yumi slapped the back of his head. "Shut up if you know what's good for you."
The blonde just shrugged, obviously not sorry. "Anyway, what do you have for us, Jeremie?" Odd asked, rubbing his head in pain. "I had to skip out on another date with Sam."
"Sorry, but this was really important."
"Then get to it!" Odd exclaimed.
"Okay, okay...Pushy." Jeremie opened up his laptop. Everyone leaned in to get a better view of the screen. "I configured a program to allow the Skid to auto-pilot itself. So, if something happens to you on one of the Replikas, the Skid will be able to navigate its way home to the hangar."
"Wow." Aelita breathed, genuinely impressed. "This will be extremely useful, which means we're on a warpath to destroy Xana once and for all!"
The team cheered, high fives and hugs going around. As he stood there in the room, staring down at his beautiful girlfriend and his wonderful friends, he felt perfect. He felt more content than he'd ever been in his life. Sure, Xana was still on the loose and putting the world in danger every afternoon, but as long as he had his friends...He was actually okay with it.
When it felt this tangible, this real...How was he expected to believe it was all a figment of his imagination?
If it was all supposedly a lie, if it was all supposedly in his head, corrupting his very being...Was it really so bad that he didn't mind? Was it really so awful that he chose to believe the lie?
Was it really so wrong that he wanted to be lost to this fantasy rather than live another second in reality?