When you're constantly fighting monsters - it's actually easier to tell your parents you're dating someone instead.

Now it's not like Yumi doesn't understand what Ulrich wants. What he thinks he wants.

"You might want to wear your hair down for a while," his fingers are skimming the back of her neck. Yumi winces, she imagines the bruises she can't see. He's lingering - he always lingers.

"Thanks," she bristles as she shakes her head, illustrating obedience. See, she practices the conversation in her mind, it's down.But she doesn't say a word. Her lips purse together, a tight line. Silence has become part of their routine too.

They're not kids anymore and Yumi isn't stupid. She knows Ulrich thinks he loves her. At that thought, Yumi's head politely reminds her she hasn't slept more than 5 hours in the past two days and she grimaces. Her body certainly isn't built for a war.

"I'm going to head out," Yumi slings her backpack over her shoulder and she can hear her bones creaking. For the first time, she looks up at Ulrich. Her breath pauses to look too. "Are you okay?"

He doesn't miss a beat, "Yeah, of course."

He shrugs, it's slow, and Yumi can bet his rotator cuff is injured. For a moment, Yumi blames herself. If she paid less attention to him she might not have noticed. Her brow creases.

"Try to sleep on your back tonight," she murmurs. She doesn't look at him as she opens the door to go.

Her parents ask questions.

Tonight, Yumi almost lashes out.

She holds, biting her tongue, tasting blood for the third time.

Her mother wants to know why Yumi is wearing a turtleneck in the height of summer, and why she's coming home at nearly midnight.

"Don't think we haven't noticed you sneaking out for the past two nights."

Yumi thinks about Ulrich. Sweet, bumbling Ulrich with all of his concern and misplaced affection. Distantly she thinks, I need to grow my hair out.

"Well?" her mother implores, fisting her hands at her hips.

Yumi feels so old with her battered body and her tangled mind. She feels agonizingly young, standing in her parent's house, having to account for her whereabouts.

How frustrating, she thinks.

Her mind is clouded, too tired to think of a thorough excuse, something she can collaborate with a school assignment or activity.

Ulrich creeps into her mind again.

"I wanted you to hear it from me first… we're dating."

Ulrich looks baffled.

Finally, he says, "… what?"

It means nothing, it's just a pretext, just a distraction. It takes so much effort to breathe around him.

"My parents asked the typical questions last night. My mom actually followed up with me this morning before I had a chance to cover up the bruise… So I told her it was a gift," Yumi is sly with her next words. "… from a boy."

Ulrich almost chokes.

"So you told them it was from me?" His tone is flat.

This, Yumi wasn't expecting. If anything, she expected a surplus of emotion - maybe even laughter.

"Is this a problem?"

Ulrich's gaze cuts through her.

"No, not at all." His face is back to that unassuming facade she knows so well.

"Great," she slides her hands into her pockets, not sure what to do with them. They start walking towards the dormitories.

"You know," Ulrich's tone is steady. "We could actually do that - for real."

Yumi fists her hands so tightly that her fingers cut crescents into her palm. She's not sure why she is so resistant to the idea or so adamant about pretending it isn't even a possibility. She bites her lip.

"My grades are pretty shitty right now. I can barely stay awake during class. I haven't even started submitting applications for university. I really don't want to fuck up the good things that are still left."

"I wouldn't call that 'fucking up' things, Yumi."

Ulrich knows her so well, too well, and maybe that's why she doesn't dare to reply.

Aelita is all smiles, even as her cheek is partly covered by a clumsy bandage.

"Don't you ever worry about the future?"

"Time is relative," Aelita chirps.

Yumi rolls her eyes, but her mouth is curving into a smile.

Sometimes she forgets Aelita is not of this world, and that her existence is founded on the promise of love. She has no such qualms.

Exhausted but unable to sleep, Yumi stares at the ceiling.

Here, she can be weak. She thinks of Ulrich. Her chest aches, and she doesn't bother to try to attribute it to her injuries.

The wanting is so strong, it pervades her doubts and her fears. In the darkness, she can be honest.

The sound is subtle at first and Yumi imagines it's just her imagination.

Then, there it is again, a dull thud.

She slides her legs off the bed, feet touching the cold floor. Pulling her curtains to the side, she stumbles back in surprise, opens the window.

Yumi's voice is a hiss. "Ulrich, what are you doing here?"