Title: Forever

Warnings: None.

Rating: PG

Author's Note: Hey everyone, sorry for the wait (again). Last semester was hectic (NEVER take nine classes, trust me), and then over the summer I was interning but now I'm back (and only taking five classes). Hope the summer treated you all well.

Thank you to everyone whose favorited, followed, and left feedback. You all are too kind. And a special shout-out to Cyanide6 who didn't let me forget about this fic. Thanks!

6. There was a time when she honestly believed that she and Ulrich would last forever.

"Word is the new guy's taken," Shannon lamented. She dropped her lunch tray onto the table and heaved a melodramatic sigh.

"Which new guy?" Yumi questioned. It was a valid question. It was the first week of school and there had been an influx of new students this year.

"Ulrich Stern." Yumi snorted.

The whole school had been buzzing about this particular new guy – the football starter who was going to take them to the championships. Yumi had listened to the gossip with half an ear as she flipped through one of her science books during her last class. According to the girls in her class he was hot, even if he was a year younger. The guys boasted of his skills on the field.

She found the whole thing just shy of ridiculous. All this fuss over an eighth grade jock.

"By whom?" she asked when Shannon wouldn't stop staring at her.

"Only you would say whom," Shannon groaned. She tore her roll into pieces and glanced around surreptitiously. "Sissi Delmas," she whispered.

"Ugh. The guy's a jerk then. I don't know why you're even interested, he's younger than us, remember? And I doubt he's as hot as they say he is."

"You haven't seen him then?"

"No," Yumi replied. She drew out the "o" for good measure. "Because he's a year younger." Shannon gave her a calculating look and dipped her bread in the pasta sauce silently.

She forgot about the conversation until she walked into the gym for Pencak Silat.

There was a guy she didn't recognize in there already. He was stretching out on one of the mats. He didn't look like much, lightly tanned skin with brown hair. He hadn't hit his growth spurt yet since he looked shorter than her. She dropped her bag and he looked over and she stopped. His eyes were a dark brown and there was something calculating in them, something she couldn't figure out.

"You here for the class?" she asked.

"Thought I was the only one," he admitted. His French had a slight accent to it, a bit gruffer than what she was used to hearing. He stood and held out a hand. "Ulrich Stern."

"Yumi Ishiyama," she replied. His hand was warm and dry when she shook it.

. . … . .

"Did you see Jim's face after the pie exploded?" Ulrich questioned. He dropped down next to her and she smiled when she saw the grin on his face. It wasn't often that Ulrich grinned wider than Odd did.

"Did you see Sissi's?" she retorted. It had been brilliant, if messy. Odd's chocolate cream pies had exploded in perfect unison throughout the cafeteria. Yumi laughed at the memory of Sissi's face dripping chocolate cream.

"Yeah," Ulrich agreed. "But come on, Jim looked like a chocolate snowman. He was standing right next tothe pies when they blew." He chuckled and she joined in, and then they were both laughing too hard. The sun slanted through the leaves and for the first time she noticed that some of the strands in his hair looked golden.

She reached out to touch them in surprise. But her fingers had a mind of their own and they tangled up tight in his hair and her lips were on his. Ulrich kissed her back, hands knotted up in her own hair and when her teeth caught his lip he only groaned and shit.

Yumi broke first, because if she didn't she wouldn't and she was not that type of girl.

"Well," he said. He had a small smile on his face, his cheeks tinged pink, and he reached up to tuck her tangled hair behind her ear.

She doubled over laughing until he followed suit. It was ridiculous. Hadn't she just told him a month ago that a relationship between them was impossible? He was her friend and she didn't want to give that up. Not now, not ever. They leaned together, her forehead pressed to his shoulder and his fingers dancing across her shoulders, until they caught their breath again. "I don't usually kiss on a first date," she groaned. She wondered if she'd just lived up to every rumor Robert Nattier had ever spread about her.

Below her forehead his shoulder rose in a shrug. "Good thing this wasn't a date, huh?" he teased, and she maybe, just maybe, loved him for it. For not making this awkward. For not calling her any of the names the boys in her grade liked to joke about. "How about Friday night, seven-thirty? We can have dinner in town."

"Sounds good," she agreed.

/

Her father glowered while she didn't pace in the front hall. "I thought you two were just friends?" he asked gruffly.

"Yumi and Ulrich sitting in a tree-" Hiroki chirped from his perch on the stairs.

"Finish that song and you'll be wishing-"

The doorbell rang and Yumi jumped. Her father's eyes narrowed. Her mother appeared from the living room, grinning and gushing. She straightened her father's shirt and brushed some of Yumi's hair out of her face.

"Can't you guys go linger someplace else?" Yumi whined. She paused with her hand on the doorknob.

"Nonsense," her mother replied. "I want pictures." She lifted her camera as proof. Yumi wished, not for the first time, that she had never bought that camera as a gift for her mother's last birthday. "I need proof for your grandmother that you don't just wear black." Yumi grit her teeth and smoothed down the skirt of her cobalt dress. "Even if it is nearly as dark."

"I want to talk to the boy," her father snapped.

"And I'm enjoying this," Hiroki added.

Yumi groaned and swung the door open. Ulrich offered her a small smile and held out a hand to her father. "Sir," he said. Her father snorted but shook his hand.

"Now, listen here, I don't want any-"

"Pictures!" her mother chirped.

It took three threats, fifteen pictures, eight unhelpful comments from her darling brother, and five reassurances that she'd be home by eleven before they were able to escape.

/

"Did I say you look nice because you do," Ulrich said. "I mean, you look great all the time but you look-"

"Ulrich, it's fine. I know what you mean. Thanks." She willed the blush away and tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. "You look good too." She fiddled with her necklace and smiled at the way his cheeks flushed to almost the same shade as hers.

Ulrich held her hand and opened the door of the pub for her. He smiled and listened and asked her questions she wasn't sure she wanted to answer, but answered anyway. He didn't mention school or their classmates. He gave her order to the waitress and didn't let his eyes linger on her short skirt the way Ryan Carrigan had when he took her out a few months back.

She felt herself relax and laugh and was surprised at how very not awkward it was.

Why hadn't she let this happen earlier?

"Do you miss Japan?" Ulrich questioned. He broke his breadstick in two and dipped it in the garlic oil absently.

"Sometimes, the festivals mostly. The traditions. My family and friends." He nodded and she didn't mention that she really only kept in contact with one friend now. "Do you miss Germany?"

He shrugged and his jaw clenched briefly around the piece of bread he'd bitten into. "What was your favorite festival?" he asked.

She knew he was dodging the question, but she loved Japan's festivals enough to let it slide. She watched as he leaned back in his booth, arms crossed loosely and smile gently curling his mouth. His eyes never left hers and when he reached across to squeeze her hand when she paused, she felt the shiver from her hair to her toes at the contact.

After dinner they walked around town. They talked about classes and teachers, about the upcoming tournament and the lack of students interested in learning pencak silat. "Want an ice cream?" he asked.

"Sure," she replied.

They stopped at the little cart in the square and waited as a group of younger kids ordered. She got a cup of strawberry-peanut butter ice cream and eyed the cup he held. "Have enough chocolate?" she teased.

Ulrich flushed as he looked down at the cup in his hand. It was chocolate coated in hot fudge. She opened her mouth to apologize but he shrugged. "I like chocolate," he replied simply. "How's the ice cream?"

"Mm, really good," she replied. She scooped some up and offered him the spoon. "Want some?"

"Nah, not really fan of that flavor."

"Strawberry?"

"No, peanut butter." He shrugged at the look on her face and pointed to an empty bench near the fountain. "Want to sit?"

"Sure," she agreed.

/

He brought her home at ten-fifty.

Yumi could see her father waiting in the living room, silhouetted against the blinds. "I hope you had a good time tonight," Ulrich said. He scuffed the toe of his sneaker against her porch, a nervous habit she'd picked up on.

"Of course, didn't you?" she replied. He smiled and she took his hand, squeezed it lightly. "I'm really glad you asked me out."

"I'm glad you said yes." He chanced a look at the living room window before leaning in and kissing her cheek gently. His breath smelled like chocolate and she raised her eyebrows questioningly at him. "I know you don't kiss on the first date," he replied. Before she could reply he'd backed up and was standing on the stairs. "Goodnight, Yumi. I'll talk to you later."

"Goodnight, Ulrich," she replied. She smiled as she unlocked the door and entered. He waited until she was safe inside before he left.

Yumi watched him go through the sheer drapes covering the front window and thought that maybe she'd found her prince charming after all.

"How was your date?" her mother asked from the kitchen. She was steeping tea and in her fuzzy robe.

"It was…nice," she said after a moment. Nice didn't begin to describe it but it was close enough. She smiled. "It was really nice."

"Hmph," her father harrumphed from the living room. "At least this boy's punctual unlike the last one."

"Takeyo," her mother warned. But Yumi didn't care. She grinned all the way up the stairs, through changing and scrubbing her face, and fell asleep with a small smile still in place.

. . … . .

The thing though, she noticed, was that the happy-feeling lasted. It wasn't just a good date, it wasn't just an interesting conversation or the fact that they were both interested in traveling and martial arts and saving the world. It was that it never got boring. They had Common Interests, something the magazines she read in the doctor's lobby told her was a Good Thing.

So what if they fought occasionally, who didn't? Her parents could certainly argue it out but they still loved each other, they were still a family. Why would she think she was any different?

"Yumi."

"Huh, what?" She looked up and met Ulrich's eyes. "I'm sorry, were you saying something?" He shook his head and laced their fingers together. Three months together, she thought. Three months and we're still happy, still us.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"Nothing, really. I'm just tired." She stretched out her sore arms and caught the smirk he didn't try to hide. "That last move was cheating, you realize."

"Sure, sure."

"Just because it works for you on Lyoko doesn't mean you can do it on Earth," she added, then nudged him in the ribs for good measure. She knew her heel had caught him under the fourth. Sure enough he winced and lost the smug look he'd won since he'd pinned her to the ground earlier.

"Yeah, well, it seemed to work fine on you," he commented. His fingers combed through the knots in her ponytail and she sighed.

"Maybe next time we should fight on Lyoko and I can watch you duck my fans," she retorted. His face closed off like it sometimes did and she frowned, reaching up to touch his shoulder. "Ulrich?"

He shook his head and smiled down at her. "Nah, it's fine. I don't think we should use the scanners without Jer around, you know what happened to Odd?"

"I'm sure he was goofing off." He was right though, and she didn't push it.

/

"What did Emily want?" she asked. Ulrich looked up, surprised.

"What?"

"Emily, what did she want? You were just talking to her on the bleachers and she gave you something?" Yumi added. Ulrich shrugged and finished crossing the field.

"Nothing, just something for a class."

"A class?"

His eyes narrowed and he dragged her behind the gym and away from prying eyes. "Yes, now drop it. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal? There isn't a big deal. You could just tell me." She crossed her arms and glared at him through narrowed eyes. "Come on, I know it wasn't for a class, you don't have any classes together."

"She edited one of my essays for me for literature, okay? Can you stop glaring at me like that now?"

"I'm not glaring at you."

"You are."

"I'm not." She grabbed his arm as he went to brush past her and he glared.

"Let go."

"Not until we're done. Why didn't you come to me? I would have edited it for you." Her eyes were still narrowed and her fingers dug into his arm.

"Because you're busy enough as it is," he replied. "Does it matter?" He jerked his arm and managed to break free only to pin her by the shoulders to the wall of the gym.

"I don't know, maybe," she replied. She pressed back, heels of her hands against his shoulders and sternum.

"It doesn't." He reached up to tangle his fingers in her hair and tug her head back. "It doesn't," he repeated over-and-over against her neck. He nipped at her skin between each repetition. He pressed harder against her shoulders and she relaxed back into the wall, waited until he bit at her jawline before she lunged and twisted, reversing their positions.

"It does," she told him. "It does because you could have just told me. Why the big secret? Why the hedging? It matters."

"Because I didn't want this to happen," he snapped. His hands were still tangled in her hair and he yanked her forward, kicking out her left leg in the process so that she fell into him. Into his arms and against his chest, mouths fused together like they were magnets. He kissed her hard and she pressed back, not giving an inch until he began to relent.

"I didn't want you to get angry," he told her in between kisses. She realized her back was against the rough brick again and had no recollection of when that had happened. "I know you don't like Emily." Another kiss and she allowed it to be softer, slower, more lingering. "I didn't want to fight with you."

"Mm, but making up is always so fun," she replied. He laughed until she tugged him back in for another kiss. And that was the truth, she thought. Every fight was worth it because the making up made it so. The kisses, the touches, the jealous and possessive looks that meant that each was wanted, each was desired. She knew Ulrich had those looks, those thoughts, too. It wasn't just her. This was why they worked so well together; this was why they were perfect: they got each other. They understood that it wasn't possessiveness or jealousy or dysfunctional; it was so much more than all of that.

It was love.