the breath you couldn't take

5 - dance to this

They walked to Parc des Buttes Chaumont.

At an hour past midday, the sun was still high in the sky. Yumi was sweltering underneath her black jacket.

They found a spot on a small hill by the lake. Tourists were sprawled all around, the puncture of camera shutters humming in the air. Yumi spied a pair of school girls eyeing Ulrich. She vaguely remember that there was a High School nearby - Bergson something. It was too late for lunch so she imagined the girls were skipping class. Just like they were.

It wasn't like Kadic was very vigilant about their attendance. Yumi knew her grades spoke on her behalf, and knew that Ulrich's parent's pockets spoke on his.

Not that Ulrich wasn't smart or capable, there was just an unavoidable truth ingrained in his life - and that truth was that the privilege of being raised in the upper echelon lent him the ability to be a little more lax about the future.

Yumi didn't have that luxury. Her parents were comfortable, but they certainly weren't rich. They were banking on her graduating top of her class and securing an internship which would bridge to a highly profitable career.

Yumi drew her knees to her chest, surveilling the lake.

"So," Ulrich started. The sun touched the water and it glittered, catching Yumi's eye. "I wish we had some wine."

At this, Yumi turned to face him, eyebrow raised.

"Should I be worried about you," she smirked. "Drinking seems to be your favorite past time these days."

Ulrich smiled at her, dimpling. The sun crowned his head, making his auburn hair luminescent.

"Can you blame me? I've only got one more year to decide what I want to do about the rest of my life." His tone was unforgiving. The pressure was present everywhere and had only intensified with the additional decisions their little group would have to take.

Should they all stay close so they could continue the fight? Did they even want to, or was this just the habit of complying with something so familiar? How could they secure a future if a future in which XANA triumphed was no future at all?

"At least you have a year."

Ulrich nodded, sympathetic.

"And then, there's this girl…"

"Oh?" Yumi played along.

In the sunlight she could see Ulrich's faint freckles, and the depth in his eyes. Honey, amber, maple, sweet, so full of goodness and intent.

"Yeah," Ulrich continued, grabbing a fistful of grass. "I've known her for a while… We're good friends, or so I'd like to think."

"Ulrich, of course we're good friends," Yumi interrupted. She wanted desperately for him to know that it was true. Their friendship meant so much to her. Isn't that why she wasn't pinning his body to the ground right now? She could have have him so easily, and the thought dazed her with implications.

His hand covered her upturned palm. The pads of his fingers were callused and Yumi traced a scar in the curve of his knuckle. This one was in a river, a mile or two outside of the factory, four years ago when they were still inexperienced and terrified.

"I know," his voice was as soft as when he put her to bed. At that thought, Yumi's face flushed. He was smiling so tenderly at her. "You're blushing," he pointed out.

"It's the sun," Yumi protested. "Aelita might have a point in that I should own clothes in another color other than black. Does this girl of yours wear summer dresses?"

Ulrich laughed, "I don't think she owns a single dress."

"So not Sissi … When are you going on that date with her anyway?"

Not replying, Ulrich turned away from her, their hands still clasped together. His hand trembled.

"Ulrich, are you okay?"

"Yeah," he replied quickly, too quickly. He sounded anything but okay. "… just … I'm just trying to work up the courage. This girl … she's very important to me. I'm afraid that if I say the wrong thing, she's just going to disappear."

"Ulrich, don't be stupid, she's not - I'm not going to disappear. We've been friends for over five years, if you think I'm just going to —"

Ulrich turned, look at her, and his gaze was so cutting, like the edge of her sword raised high, ready to strike.

"I love her."

Yumi fell silent. The air evaporated from her lungs.

"I love her," he repeated. Yumi's head was spinning. It was so hard to breathe, to think. She suspected this, but in the face of such words spoken aloud she couldn't brush them off or run away. This wasn't a joke. Ulrich looked at her imploringly. "I love you. Say something, please."

Her words came out in a rush, "I don't think that's a good idea."

Yumi felt as if she was gulping air, trying to understand what her next move should be. She had worked so hard to keep their friendship tucked away, a precious treasure. Safe from stupid things like summer romances and bitter ends.

Ulrich buried his face in his hands for a moment and then ran his fingers through his hair as he resurfaced. It was impossible to read his face.

"Okay," he said at last. "Thank you … thanks for letting me … for coming here and …"

He stopped talking, stood.

"I'm going to take a walk," he said finally. The thought of him leaving terrified her. Yumi knew with certainty that if he left, there would be no mending the chasm that had just opened between them.

"Don't go."

"I'm sorry Yumi, I can't just stay here … I can't be around you right now." He sounded so utterly miserable. At this, Yumi's heart broke. She realized with some resentment, that no matter which way this turned, there was no way to avoid getting hurt.

She reached for his arm, but he flinched.

"Please don't make this worse. I'm not like you, Yumi. I can't just pretend I don't feel this way. I can't even fucking look at you right now."

Vision clouded, Yumi reached for him once more. Her face was wet with tears. She fisted her hands in the arm of his jacket, the linen strong beneath her grip.

"I just don't want anything to change, that's all," Yumi rested her face on the back of his shoulder. For the first time, she welcomed the near equality of their height. " … but don't think that I don't want … The thought of you actually going out with Sissi makes me absolutely furious, I can't —"

He turned around so quickly, Yumi's mouth was still rounded with the syllable of her next word when his mouth finish her sentence for her. The kiss was fervent, sloppy with urgency. His lips were so soft, so unbelievably and perfectly warm. Yumi was almost jealous, except that they were a gift that he had only ever offered to her. His fingers were threading through her hair, thumbs on the curve of her jaw. Her pulse was thunder in her ears as he slowed down his kisses, increasing the interval between each press of his lips on hers, but never stopping.

"Ulrich," she insisted in between each kiss. She didn't recognize her own voice.

"Don't," he said and continued to press electric, dizzying kiss after kiss on her lips. Finally, after what seemed an eternity that was too short for both of them, he stepped back from her. His face was wet, and for a moment Yumi was confused, but then realized he wore her tears.

His thumbs wiped away the last of her tears, and really, Yumi wondered when she had become such a crybaby.

The answer, of course, was that she wasn't. But presented with losing Ulrich, there she could not hide, could not rationalize her emotions. Of all the things in her life that she accepted could easily slip away, Ulrich was not one of them.

"If you want me to believe that you won't disappear, then you have to believe that I won't disappear, okay?"

Yumi thought about this. She realized that she expected so much of herself and didn't expect others to live up to those standards.

"Okay," Yumi acquiesced. Then, as an after thought. "Aelita is never going to let us live this down."

"Aelita," Ulrich laughed. "I have to explain to Sissi now that I'm not going out on that date with her. Which one do you think is worse?"

Yumi shrugged, pretending to be aloof. "That was your fault."

"Actually," Ulrich protested but then thought better of it. "Nevermind."

"That was a good decision." Yumi smiled at him, feeling terrified and exhilarated at the same time.

Ulrich bent to kiss her once again, and he looked so absolutely happy, charmed by his own actions. He took her hand as if this was something so familiar, and it was, but in battle it was a grip of reassurance, a life saving promise.

And, maybe, here it was too.