The sharp wind tickled Yumi's nose as she made her way up the steps leading to the door of her apartment. She had said goodbye to William only moments before, but it was empty, like the way she kissed him as she slid out of the car. He hadn't said anything about it, so Yumi preferred not to mention it and it wasn't like those things mattered. It was a bit sad that she saw the end of the relationship even before it had begun; right after he closed the door behind him, took her hand in his, and smiled she knew that it was a fleeting relationship. The kind you talk about ten years later, and laugh because you can't even remember his name, just the way things ended. The sadness in the back of her head felt a lot like disappointment. Not about the relationship itself, never that. In a cruel moment Yumi could admit that she could care less about their relationship. It was like a nice, familiar thing in her life. When she was younger it was her parents, then it was her struggle to get away from them, and now it was him. It scared her to think that all the constant things in her life had been bad and William was just another addition to the list.

It was still early, one in the afternoon, and with a heavy sigh Yumi mentally calculated all the things she needed to do. Her laundry was building up into a mountain in her bedroom and the dishes were in the sink since the day before. Instead of being practical, Yumi flopped on her bed like a rag doll and started to think. Which was always a bad thing. When she was thirteen, Yumi started to think about college. Five years later her parents refused to speak to her. When she was fourteen, Yumi started to think about boys. Three weeks later she'd gotten her heart effectively and completely torn into shreds. The only thing that had been bruised there was her ego. But the guy didn't need to know that; she made him buy her lunch for twelve days straight after that. He felt so guilty he went along with it. At the end of those twelve days, Yumi started to think about how easy it was to manipulate people. Four years later, in her senior year of high school, almost every girl in her class hated her. Their boyfriends had turned on them in favor of her and even if Yumi rejected them, she was still the whore who stole my boyfriend in the eyes of the female population. Yumi couldn't care less about that either. She learned that people were easily misguided and not to be trusted.

Which is why she liked William, naturally. William didn't care about her and Yumi didn't care about him. It was a win/win situation and one hundred percent safe. William would never hurt her and that was the important part.

It was raining outside. Yumi stood, turned out all the lights, and threw herself back into bed. It was nice and peaceful in the dark, the coolness of the rain in the air. Occasional streaks of lightening flashed into the room, illuminating her and pulling her away from sleep. It was all very nice until the phone, which rested on a table beside the bed, rang. It was a very annoying ring; shrill, loud, and unrelenting. Yumi unhooked the receiver ungracefully.

"Hello," she mumbled tiredly.

"Hello dear," Yumi jerked awake. All notions of peace and sleep left her. "I know I haven't called you in a very long time, but convincing your father to allow me to speak to you has been rather hard."

Her mother sounded like a diplomat on the phone. Her voice was neutral, concise, and highly logical. Every time she spoke it sounded as if she was explaining something to a very old, very senile person. Her mother made her feel like a child.

"You're my mother," Yumi protested. "You're supposed to do everything in your power to talk to me. My father should be the least of your worries."

"I don't know what went wrong," her mother sounded tired but Yumi knew it was just a strategy to make her feel guilty. "I didn't raise you like this. Hiroki turned out right, he respects me. He listens to what I have to say."

"Mom --," Yumi started.

"You used to be so obediently," her mother interrupted. "You never had a problem with a traditional upbringing before. You were such a nice girl..."

"Don't talk about me like I'm dead," Yumi snapped. "I didn't want to get married to some random guy because of his money or his family and suddenly I'm the bad one in the story? You should feel ashamed for trying to force me into something like that? I didn't even know him! I was sixteen years old and you wanted me to quit school and marry some guy so I could have three children by the time I was twenty. You might enjoy being subservient to dad, but I will never be like you."

Yumi hung up. She muttered a quiet curse as she tried to sink herself into the bed as much as possible. Talking to her mother always made her feel depressed. Things were going perfectly fine for her and her mother had to call her after six months to ruin it all. Not even thousands of miles had prevented her mother from making her life miserable. Still, this was much better than living with them. There she had to listen to her mother and father tell her what a disappointment she was, there she could still hear them voicing disapproval through the door. Here she could hang up or not answer. Here she was safe.

The next day was a shitty one. William called her at four in the morning to say that he had another errand to run and couldn't met her at the bakery. It was a very elaborate way of saying that he was ditching her, again. It was too early to care, and Yumi mumbled an agreement before slamming the receiver. It was still dark out and she still felt tired. After ten more minutes of fighting with herself to get out of bed, Yumi made her way into the bathroom. It was a small bathroom; a shower in the corner with a sliding glass door, a sink in the other corner with a rusted mirror, and a toilet next to the sink. There were no windows, only two fluorescent bulbs near the vanity.

Tugging off her clothes lethargically, Yumi turned the knobs and watched the water sprout out of the shower head. She felt sleepy, and some of the sadness from the day before still remained. Memories of the phone call flooded back, and underneath a torrent of scorching water, Yumi cried a little. Satisfied with her shower, Yumi dried herself off with a towel and then slipped into a bath robe. It was red, or used to be. She had, had it since she was seventeen and after a hundred washes it had faded into a nice pink color. Yumi caught sight of herself in the mirror and admitted that she looked pretty bad. There were bags under her eyes and she looked a bit dead; there was no color in her skin and her lips were chapped. Yumi fought off the urge to cry again.

It was raining/snowing by the time Yumi made her way outside. Three quaters to the bakery, the wind snapped her umbrella inside out. Yumi arrived at the bakery drenched, cold, and swearing.

Yumi swept the bakery with her eyes for William and then remembered her wasn't meeting her today. Bastard. Instead, she caught sight of a very cheerful wave and a shock of brown hair. It appeared that Ulrich was a morning person. Yumi could hate him for it.

"Hey sweetums," the owner of the bakery greeted her. She handed her a towel. "Don't look so glum, go sit over there with Mr. Handsome and I'll bring you your usual."

"Thanks," Yumi managed, draping the towel over her shoulders. Her hair was dripping water everywhere. Yumi miserably sat down opposite to Ulrich. He was entertaining his cell phone in one hand, his car keys in the other.

"Bad day?"

"Worst day," Yumi replied as she bit back a sneeze. A waitress appeared in front of them.

"Good morning," she said. "Or is it Early Morning, or Late Evening, or ..."

Ulrich cleared his throat.

"Oh, right," the waitress smiled. She had dimples. "What would you like, sir?"

Ulrich thought about it. "Coffee with milk, no sugar please. If you could bring me a packet of Splenda ... that would be nice."

Yumi actually giggled. "Don't tell me you're on a diet," she joked. Ulrich didn't return her humor. He changed the topic, instead.

"What are you studying?"

"Medicine," Yumi replied. "If you get to ask questions, so do I. What brings you here? To New York, I mean."

"Um," Ulrich hedged. "I'm a ... an aspiring songwriter."

"Hmm," Yumi was sure he was lying but he didn't have any obligation to be honest with her.

The overly cheerful waitress reappeared with two cups of coffee. "Here you go," she beamed. It had to be unnatural to be that cheerful this early. "Would you like a bagel today, Miss Yumi?"

"No thanks."

"Okay," the waitress chirped. "Call me if you need anything!"

Yumi took her respective cup and sipped. "Morning people are weird."

Ulrich laughed. "Do you want me to drive you to class today? It's pretty nasty outside."

Yumi shook her head. "No class today," she mumbled in between sips.

"It's six in the morning," Ulrich laughed again. "Are you sure you're not a morning person? Most people sleep in when they don't have to go anywhere."

Yumi shrugged, "Force of habit, I guess."

"Well," Ulrich started. "If you don't have anything to do, I have a proposal for you..."

Yumi said no.

Ulrich then proceeded to make up some sob story about how he lived inside a box and could she pleasepleaseplease help him out? His apartment was on the ninth floor and it was a twice as big as an entire floor in her apartment building.

"Wow," Yumi said before she could stop herself. She wasn't impressed by money, but when she saw the espresso machine resting comfortably in the kitchen, Yumi fell in love. Ulrich hadn't been kidding, there were boxes upon boxes dotting the room. Yumi could only imagine how much bigger the apartment would look about everything was clean and in place. A dog slept in the corner.

"You have a dog," Yumi asked, stating the obvious.

"No," Ulrich said, hands in pockets. "It belongs to a friend who is out of the country right now."

"Oh," Yumi wanted to pet the dog but decided against it. "Does it have a name?"

"His name is Kiwi."

They left the dog to sleep and started to work as quietly as possible.

They started in the kitchen. The counters were dark wood, with a veneer on top which made them glossy. A stainless steel refrigerator loomed overwhelmingly in the corner followed by a matching dishwasher. A stack of new, unused dishes was in the sink. Matching silverware was on the counters. Yumi filled the cabinets with dishes and decorated the fridge with magnets she found in a box in the middle of the kitchen. Meanwhile, Ulrich was in the bathroom putting up the curtains and putting in the rugs. There was nothing to be done with the dinning room. The dinning table hadn't come in yet, Ulrich had informed her, so it was just a bunch of empty space. The living room was empty, too. Ulrich said he'd look into some furniture later.

His bedroom remained untouched. Ulrich didn't mention it and Yumi didn't bring it up. She wouldn't let anyone into her bedroom either. It was nearly three in the afternoon when they were done. Yumi was dirty with dust and sore.

"You are amazing," Ulrich told her as he looked around. "I love you."

Yumi ignored his commentary. She also ignored how it made her feel. Ulrich offered to give her a ride home which Yumi graciously accepted. They had a cup of coffee before they left.

"Ready?"

"Wait," Yumi bit her lip. "I'm going to use the bathroom. Can I meet you downstairs?"

"Sure," Ulrich smiled. He was so trusting, Yumi thought. He was willing to let a perfect stranger inside his obviously expensive apartment, alone. Yumi heard the door close as she slipped into the bathroom. It was painted an olive green, a matching cover on the toilet, followed by two rugs and a curtain. Yumi had to give it to him, the guy had good fashion sense. She felt a bit bad, but Yumi opened the vanity out of curiosity. Ordinary items stared at her; a razor, mouthwash, toothpaste. A small vial caught her attention. Yumi reached up for it and read the label with care. For someone who did not know medical jargon it would mean nothing to them. For Yumi, it was clear.

Insulin. Ulrich was diabetic.

Yumi smiled at Ulrich as he opened the door for her without so much as batting an eyelash. Diabetes patients did not like to talk about their condition, especially younger ones. Now the Splenda packet made sense. Ulrich drove in silence, the radio stared at Yumi mutely. Yumi didn't know what to make of Ulrich, quite honestly. She couldn't figure him out.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Yumi hadn't realized that the car had stopped. Ulrich was looking at her hopefully. For a moment, Yumi saw the bottle of insulin. So what if he had secrets? So did she. There was just something in the way he talked to her without revealing anything. The way he was obviously hiding something.

"I make no promises," Yumi answered.

"Ouch," Ulrich pretended to be hurt. Yumi waved him goodbye. Before she managed to work her key into the lock, her phone rang.

"Hey babe," it was William. "I'm so sorry about today. How about I take you to dinner tomorrow, after class?"

"Okay," Yumi had no reason to deny his request. There was silence on the line. "... Is there something else you want to tell me?"

"Yeah ... I don't think I'll be able to meet you tomorrow morning --"

Yumi hung up, and sighed.

Apparently, she wasn't as safe as she thought. No matter how far away, people could still hurt her.

Longest chapter of my life. Feedback would be lovely :)