Chapter 6
Mari wanted the whole college experience.
Which meant living in the dorms for her first year. Moving was harder than she had expected, especially without the help of her parents. She looked around in the lobby of her dormitory, watching how parents bustled about carrying boxes of things for their children on move-in day. All Mari had was a suitcase with her essentials after flying for 14 hours. No furniture, no appliances, no bedding… it was becoming clear that she had desperately underprepared for this dormitory experience.
So this was why Kanda told her to stay in the apartment that he had used during his undergrad at Harvard.
It took a few weeks for Mari to settle into her own small space, thankfully with no roommate and furnished with only a closet, bed, nightstand, and desk. Between figuring out the public transit situation and her two arms that could only carry so much with one trip, her dorm room felt complete with the bare essentials. Bedding, a kettle, hangers for her makeshift closet, and a few books from home that lined her shelves. Mari hung up some photos of her high school friends on the wall and adorned her bed frame with lights.
The bathroom situation with the entire floor was a whole other story that Mari couldn't even begin delving into.
So this is what Americans call… college, she thought to herself. Her floormates were alright – everyone seemed to have dubbed her the Quiet Japanese Girl Who Speaks with a British Accent. It wasn't her fault that Ouran Academy taught in British English, another example of how snobbish she was raised.
It was halfway through her fall semester that a classmate tapped her on the shoulder. She recognized the boy as someone who was on her floor. They had spoken a few times in the halls, passing by one another with regular small talk.
"Hey, you know what's weird?"
Mari turned around from her lecture seat. She sat at the very front. "What?"
"So, I was in the other section for this chemistry lecture because I missed my usual lecture time from being hungover… but this dude answered the prof's questions in the same accent as you."
The girl narrowed her eyes in confusion. "Was he… British?"
"Nah, he was Asian! Like you. Oh, and he sits in the front in the same seat as you."
Mari nodded slowly, getting ready to turn back around to face the front. The lecture was about to begin in a less than a minute.
"Do you know each other?"
The girl blinked. "Not all Asians know each other," Mari answered rolling her eyes. Americans, she grumbled to herself.
"How many other Asians do you know take this course with a British accent?" her floormate reasoned. "He wears glasses. About six feet tall. Pretty lean. Always attached to his laptop."
"That's describing a lot of Asians…" Mari sighed. "Why does it matter?"
"I don't know," her floormate shrugged. "Seemed like an uncanny coincidence that you two spoke with the same accent. His name started with a K…"
Her eyes widened in realization.
"Kyouya?"
"Yes! That guy. Super smart – like, intimidatingly smart."
Mari sighed. She couldn't go 6 weeks at Harvard without hearing about this prick. Mari turned around and opened up her notebook. She was here to learn, not think about high school classmates who irritated her to no end.
"Hey."
Kyouya continued typing on his laptop. He assumed that it was another student calling for someone else's attention. These students were always talking about something dumb or trivial. The Ootori had better things to do.
"Dude."
What was it with Americans and the word dude? Such odd lingo, he thought to himself. Kyouya was in the midst of typing through an email. There was a tap on his shoulder to get his attention. He glared at the person behind him. Couldn't they see that he was obviously occupied with something?
"Finally," the student exhaled. "Do you know Mari?"
Yo. What kind of greeting was this?
"Mari?" he hadn't heard that name in a few months.
"Yeah, she lives on my floor. She's in the same class, but different section for lectures. She speaks in the same accent as you do. Weirdly British."
"It's proper English," Kyouya corrected, pushing up his glasses.
"Whatever, man." His classmate brushed off. "She's cute. Short. Freckles on her cheeks. Long hair. Seems quite keen. Sits in your seat too."
"Mari Takuya?" Kyouya raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, sure. Something like that," the guy shrugged. "And she said not all Asians know each other, psh."
"Anyway," the stranger changed the topic. "She told me she's staying here over the Thanksgiving holiday. Are you?"
"This is none of your business," the Ootori glared.
"I dunno, I just thought since you guys know each other… y'all could hang out or something. No one really deserves to be alone during the holidays, you know."
The Ootori turned around when the lecture began, ignoring the chatty guy behind him.
Classical music played in the background with the occasional clinking of glasses of champagne. Alumni gathered in cliques with Kyouya staying near his brother Akito. It was a good opportunity to network. The Ootori family needed to put up a strong front to begin establishing their reputation overseas, after all.
Kyouya watched as Akito raised his champagne glass to someone across the room, gesturing them to come over. The youngest Ootori turned his head around to see Kanda Takuya make his way over.
"Oi," Kanda greeted. "Haven't seen you in a while, Akito. How's med school treating you?"
The elders caught up. Kanda was in the midst of transitioning into becoming the heir to a real estate empire while Akito was finishing up his medical degree, as per his plan before doing his MBA.
A lull in their conversation allowed Akito to introduce his brother. "This is Kyouya," Akito gestured to the younger brother. "He just started his freshman year here at Harvard."
Kanda nodded in understanding, offering a hand to the younger man. "My sister is here too," his eyes flickered around the room. "She just went to talk to someone about research…"
"I'm here," Mari called up behind her older brother. "Mari Takuya," she introduced herself to the elder Ootori. She gave a nod of acknowledgement to the younger Ootori.
Kyouya reciprocated the nod, taking note of her maroon lace dress – fitting for a Harvard event. Her hair was loosely curled over her shoulders, the curls bounced with every nod she gave towards the elder brothers.
"You two know each other?" Kanda asked his little sister when he noticed that she didn't introduce himself to Kyouya.
"We were classmates at Ouran," Mari explained. "Just like you two."
The freshmen stared at each other in silence, letting their siblings take over the conversation instead. Mari turned away from him, trying to find other people to talk to instead. It was difficult without having any segue out of their circle.
"Kyouya can walk Mari back to her dorm," Akito offered to Kanda. It looked like their younger siblings were noticeably bored by their conversation.
"Oh, that's quite alright – it's not a far walk at all," Mari politely declined.
"Even more reason for Kyouya to do so then," the elder Ootori ushered. "We'll wait for you here, Kyouya."
Mari blinked and looked at the time on her phone. It was past 10. The girl looked around to see that attendees were already trickling out of the venue.
"Go on, Mari. You have class tomorrow," Kanda patted her back. "You can text me when you're back home."
"Okay," the younger sister obediently answered. "Say hello to Emi for me, okay? And Yuki too." The older brother nodded and nudged the top of Mari's head.
"Hey," Mari swatted his arm away. "I spent time on my hair today," she glared. Mari tried her best to tame the fly-away strands on the top of her head. The elders laughed as the younger siblings made their way towards the exit, leaving them behind.
"You can go home, Kyouya. It really isn't a far walk," she ushered him as soon as they stepped out into the cool autumn air. "You have class too, tomorrow."
The Ootori shook his head. "I'm alright. Do you have a jacket?"
Mari crossed her arms and huddled her shoulders together. She didn't have a jacket.
"It's not a far walk," she reassured. "Kanda drove us here from my dorm so… it wasn't too bad. It's only 10 minutes if you walk fast."
"Which you can't," Kyouya chuckled. Her choice of footwear were 5 inch tall suede boots that reached her knees.
"Shut up," Mari grumbled. "I'm doing just fine."
The Ootori sighed and took off his blazer to place over her shoulders. Mari glared at him.
"I'm fine," she insisted. "Take it back."
"Then walk faster," the Ootori challenged.
Mari scowled. That was a familiar face. The same one that he saw nearly every morning at Ouran when she slid open the homeroom doors. Something about it gave him a wave of nostalgia. It was a strange feeling that he couldn't pinpoint. A kind of warmth that he did not expect to feel, especially after all these months from not seeing her since graduation.
Despite that, it was cold enough that their breaths could be seen whenever they exhaled at night.
"Classes are going well for you, I presume," Mari tried making small talk instead of shivering.
The Ootori made a noise of affirmation.
"Your brother seems nice," she tried again.
"Seems," Kyouya repeated the keyword.
"Ah, right. He's still your rival," Mari nodded. "Don't tell me you're going to be a doctor like your other two brothers."
Well, that was the plan, Kyouya thought. Hence, all the science courses that were loaded onto his schedule.
"Why end up as clones of your brothers when you have to set yourself apart?"
She had a point there. Mari let the clacking of her heels fill in the silence between the two. It wasn't like she was expecting a heart to heart with the Ootori. They were nothing more than acquaintances after all. They reached the entrance to her dormitory after 15 minutes.
Mari shrugged off his blazer to return it back to Kyouya. Their hands grazed against each other. Kyouya noted how cold her fingertips were. He lingered longer than he should have before he pulled away.
"Thanks," she murmured. Mari had to remind herself to make eye contact. It was only polite. But goodness, it felt so terribly awkward. "You really should have just gone home."
The Ootori shrugged. "It's alright. You should get inside. You're cold."
"I'm okay," Mari insisted.
He raised an eyebrow at her.
"I'll see you… around." It was awkward enough as is. They weren't close enough to be considered friends, especially with their history. But they were older now – just a little, anyway. It seemed right to put behind their bickering, especially around their elder siblings.
"Yes," Kyouya agreed. He perched up his glasses. "Perhaps."
She stood in front of him awkwardly. "You should get back now. They're probably still waiting."
Kyouya pulled out his phone and checked his text messages.
"They aren't," he told her. "They went out for drinks."
"Oh," Mari dumbly responded. "Well… that's… pretty shitty of them to abandon you. Where's your dorm?"
Kyouya shrugged. "I don't live on campus. I drove and parked nearby."
She wanted to make a comment about how ridiculous it was that he had a car and could even afford to park on campus, but she remembered that he was rich. And quite frankly, so was she. It had been weeks since she had her own bathroom to herself – living like this had her forget that she actually came from privilege sometimes.
"Right. So, good night?" Mari scratched the back of her neck in discomfort, waiting for him to leave.
"Good night, Mari," he coolly responded, flinging his jacket over his shoulder as he turned on his heel.
That's so extra, she thought. But when did he get that jawline? She tilted her head at his figure. Did he get a better haircut? Or is it the outfit that somehow makes him look less annoying today than ever before? Sometimes he could be quite the gentleman.
A part of her suddenly understood why he was a Host, just a little too late.
Mari took the Thanksgiving weekend to get ahead of her studies. The library was extra empty as everyone had gone home for the holidays. It would have been silly for Mari to fly back to Japan for only a week. It wasn't like Mari had a lot of friends to begin with – she was neither outgoing nor as cool as everyone else around her, it seemed. A good majority of her dorm seemed to be more interested in frat parties and joining sororities than getting to hang out over a study session.
Though she had to admit, everyone was very friendly. People always made the effort to say hello or make small talk with her, despite her quiet nature. Mari worked through another physics problem set as someone took a seat in front of her.
What was the point of sitting right across from her when the entire library was practically empty? Mari huffed to herself and refused to look up. She would only give the person a dirty look, and it wasn't worth her time when she had a midterm to prepare for.
He didn't expect to run into her when he did, but there she was. In her usual uniform: only now she sported a maroon Harvard hoodie and a high ponytail. She pushed up the frames of her glasses, a new addition. She still preferred to handwrite her notes instead of typing them.
Typical, he thought.
Kyouya settled across from her with his laptop. He pulled up the electronic version of a textbook on his tablet while he made notes on his laptop. He stayed behind for the holidays as well – it didn't make much sense to head back to Japan for only a week.
Mari got through half the problem set before getting stuck on a question. Her mind was distracted by literally anything else but the problem. Her ears became privy to only the sound of the incessant typing of someone's keyboard. It sounded so ridiculously familiar, reminding her of those days in Ouran when she would have to listen to the goddamn Ootori type away in class while she painstakingly wrote her notes by hand.
The girl perched her glasses up at the top of her head and sighed. It was a good time for a break. Maybe eat a granola bar and check her phone. The figure in front of her was blurred. She mostly wore her contacts, but now that campus was nearly empty and that she practically only spent the whole day studying – Mari chose to forego the lenses for the week to give her eyes a rest.
Kyouya looked up from his laptop when he saw that Mari had finally pried her eyes away from her notebook. She squinted at him, tilting her head at him in confusion. Mari put on her glasses and groaned when she finally recognized who sat right in front of her.
"Of course it had to be you with the stupid typing." It was strange speaking Japanese again.
The Ootori rolled his eyes. "You still write your notes." He responded back in Japanese.
"Did you have to sit in front of me when the entire library is empty?" Mari hit him full force with irritancy.
"It was convenient."
She gave him a suspicious look. "Sure, if sitting here in the most discreet possible location that I've claimed since September is what you call convenient."
"I don't see your name anywhere," Kyouya pointed out.
"Why can't you just admit that you wanted to sit beside me?"
"I wanted to sit beside you."
Mari blinked. She didn't think she'd even get to this point. Kyouya smirked at her speechlessness. He watched as she put herself back together.
"But why? We hardly even like each other. We aren't even friends."
"We aren't?" Kyouya raised an eyebrow at her.
The girl sputtered. "Uh. Well." Wasn't it obvious that they were far from friends? "You don't like me. You never did."
"I never said that."
"You tolerated me at best."
"I tolerate my friends," Kyouya pointed out.
Mari laughed. "Yeah, that's true. Your friends were a handful in the best way possible. Where are they now? Some are still at Ouran, I imagine. How about Tamaki?"
Kyouya shrugged. "London."
"Oh? Not France?" Mari always presumed he would return back to his motherland. "He's mentioned that his mother lived there." They had very brief conversations while at Ouran, just enough to scratch the surface of each other's lives while they shared the same music class until she stopped playing.
"He isn't allowed to visit his mother," Kyouya explained.
Mari nodded, deciding not to delve into such a topic. "And what about you? Have you just been hanging with your older brother?"
Kyouya scoffed. "He would rather be seen dead than with me if it weren't for the functions we have to attend."
"Oh," Mari sheepishly responded. She should have known that she didn't share the same kind sibling relationship as he did. Kanda was never a rival, and neither was Yuki. It had always been established that Kanda was the sole heir. Mari and Yuki were just contingencies, at best. Nonetheless, everyone fell into their own places without complaint. Perhaps that was why the Takuya family was so seemingly perfect. And quite frankly, they were.
There was no dysfunction. No rumours of affairs of their parents. No rivalry between siblings. No scandals whatsoever. They were untouchable. Sought-after. Truly, the Takuya family had nothing to lose and everything to gain in the social sphere of the upper class. It was lucky that Mari had come from such a family.
"Does Kanda come back often?" Kyouya switched the topic over to Mari's side. He watched as she reflected on herself, obviously feeling guilty for asking. The Ootori tried to take her out of her misery.
"No," she answered. "He just came back for the alumni event. Gave me his car keys and the keys to his apartment… told me that it was all mine now that he's moved back to Japan."
"Why are you living at the dorms?" he asked. Obviously if Kanda had an apartment near campus, Mari wasn't using it when he walked her back to a residence on campus instead.
"Um," Mari sighed. "Full college experience, I guess."
Kyouya chuckled, mocking her. "How is that coming along?"
"Shut up," she narrowed her eyes. "Besides the bathrooms, it's quite tolerable."
"Really fitting in the commoner lifestyle, I see," Kyouya pushed up his glasses.
"It's um, a growing experience," Mari admitted. "Lots um, lots of socks on doors. Probably as a joke."
"Socks on doors?" Kyouya was unfamiliar with the American culture.
"My neighbour has a lot of sex, apparently. Also, free condoms! Everywhere. Gosh, they're always so in your face about it."
The Ootori blinked. He should have seen it coming but he truly wasn't expecting that to come out of her mouth. She was unabashedly blunt and it was quite… endearing.
"You know what Americans also do that I can't stand? Butcher my name."
"Do they call you Mary instead of Mar-ee?"
"Yes!" Mari groaned. "Do they butcher the name Kyouya too? Like, Kuh-you-yah? Or… Kai-oh-ya?"
Kyouya smirked. "Oddly no."
"Probably because you hardly interact with anyone your age…" she rolled her eyes. "Or you're too busy introducing yourself first to people who you think have merit. Like, all your profs. And everyone else in whatever business association you've now joined."
The Ootori cleared his throat. She was spot-on, but he wouldn't admit that. Mari took his silence as a sign that she was correct.
"Are you going home?" he changed the topic.
"I have another problem set to finish," Mari grumbled, looking back down at the scribbled out problem that she'd started. "But yeah, I'll probably stop by the caf for some dinner and head home."
"I meant, Japan," Kyouya explained.
Mari shrugged. "Yeah, maybe during Winter Break. I have to be fitted for the bridesmaid's dress for Kanda's wedding. How about you?"
Kyouya nodded. "Tamaki wants to a get together and Fuyumi wants to see me."
"Your sister? Are you close?" Mari hadn't heard that name before.
"Closer than my brothers," he shrugged. "She's married now."
Mari nodded. "Well, that's nice," she offered. "I'm assuming Akito got an invite to Kanda's wedding. Will he be coming?"
Kyouya shrugged. "We don't share our personal lives with each other."
"Oh," Mari dumbly responded. "Um. Well, maybe I'll see him. If I do, I'll say hello."
"It's probably best not to," Kyouya rolled his eyes.
"It's polite," the girl offered. She was raised with class, after all. "I mean, there's no guarantee he'd show up anyway, right?"
The Ootori shrugged. It would be good for the Ootoris to show up. The company had a couple projects lined up over the next decade that relied on the real estate of the Takuya family. It would be good to show up to the wedding just for good relations. Whether or not Akito would be the one to show, Kyouya didn't know.
"Are you going to finish up that problem set?" Kyouya pointed.
Mari sighed. "No…" she admitted. "I'm hungry… or as the Americans call it, hangry."
"I'll walk you to the caf," he offered.
She blinked in surprise.
"You don't have to," Mari softly refused. "Really. I can survive. It's just a dusting of snow outside."
"We're friends, aren't we?" Kyouya smirked.
In a blink of an eye, Mari was back in Japan. She couldn't believe it herself with her jetlag and all.
Flowers were in full bloom. The sun shone through the gardens. The ceremony had just ended. Everyone mingled around before the evening reception. It was a Western style wedding, of course. The epitome of higher class.
"I just flew in from Boston," Mari made a flimsy excuse. She was changed into her pastel pink gown. "I'm terribly out of practice." At least that part was true. She hadn't touched a piano in over a year. She didn't have time to. In between wrapping up her first year of university, choosing majors, and volunteering at a lab over the majority of the summer – Mari was not left with a lot of free time on her hands.
"Oh Mari, please. The guests are waiting," her mother ushered. The guests slowly filtered their way indoors where the air conditioning had welcomed them. The gardens were beautiful but not enough to keep them from feeling the comfort of cool air over the humid summer of Tokyo. The Takuya family was tucked away indoors in a private room where the bride would have been. The bride was already on her way to the evening reception to get into another dress and to have her makeup and hair redone.
"No one told me about this!" Mari complained. "How was I supposed to know that I would have to prepare a piece to play during this wedding?"
Emi sprung the idea on Kanda after their engagement party last year. Somehow the memo got lost through the grapevine.
"She emailed you, didn't she?" Yuki casually mentioned. Her baby sister was becoming the talk of the wedding with her beauty. Mari looked quite plain in comparison to her sister who had somehow blossomed over the course of the year. Even Mari didn't recognize her little sister with the amount of makeup she had on.
Mari shook her head. "No? No one emailed me anything." She turned to their mother who only shook her head. She had very little to do with the wedding planning – Emi took the reigns on that one.
"Oops… that might have been my job," Yuki sweetly apologized. "But you're a professional pianist, Mari. You can easily play whatever and everyone will still be amazed, no?"
Mari fumed. "That's not respecting the score." This was not what she was taught. Or how she was taught to play piano.
"All the composers are dead… why does it matter?" her sister rolled her eyes. "Why is this such a big deal, Mari? Just play something quick. This is your chance to shine."
"I don't want to shine!" the older sister seethed. She wasn't going to delve into why respecting the score was important. None of them would understand the time and effort placed into perfecting a single piece of music. "I didn't want any of this."
"Mari!" the mother scolded. "Why are you throwing a tantrum over something so silly? This is a day of joy for your brother and you're here stomping your feet because—"
"It's not about that! No one fills me in on these things!" Mari sighed. "No one remembers that I exist, and when I do it's because I'm suddenly useful."
Yuki sighed. "Well, who told you to go all the way to America to study? You would've been filled in if you had just stayed here, you know?"
"Your sister goes to Harvard," Mari reminded. "Who would give up the opportunity up to study at the most prestigious university in the world?"
"Oh Mari, Kanda already went to Harvard," her mother softly said. Harvard wasn't a big deal to this family, not anymore.
"So my achievements are only second to his?" Mari exhaled. She closed her eyes.
"We all expected you to go to Juilliard," Yuki explained. "Harvard just seemed… out of the blue, you know?"
"It's still a great school," the mother tried to reassure Mari. "Wonderful school, really."
"Right," the former pianist sighed. "The prestige just didn't match up with my mediocrity."
"No," her mother shook her head. "You were so accomplished."
Mari sighed.
You were so accomplished.
So she wasn't accomplished now, not anymore. Playing the piano was just a reminder to the rest of the world that Mari Takuya was still good for something.
It was to save face.
Her fingers glided so beautifully across the keys as her posture stayed flawless. Her concentration couldn't be broken, even if one had tried. A fierceness had taken over her eyes.
"Who is that?"
"Oh, that's the middle child."
"Her? She doesn't come to these things often, does she?"
Kyouya listened to the guests sip on their champagne. He stayed in the background, filling in for his brother Akito who was caught up in more important business for the hospital, or so he claimed. In reality, Kyouya was sent as the Ootori envoy to keep face. It was good to have at least one Ootori around. He was just sent to do bitch work, to be quite frank.
"She's an internationally acclaimed pianist, you know? Won many titles on a National level. Was ranked first internationally two years prior." An elderly woman whispered to her friend.
"Ah, classical pianist. Must be studying at a conservatory, I assume?"
"No. Harvard."
"Oh." Disappointment could be heard in their voice.
"Such a waste of talent, no?"
Kyouya kept walking, keeping an eye on Mari who furrowed her brows ever so slightly as she played.
"Mari? Who?"
"The pianist."
"Oh."
She truly was the forgotten one. Kyouya realized what Mari had finally meant when she constantly reminded him that she was never the important one.
"She's a Harvard student now."
"Huh, who would've expected? Is she actually that smart?"
"Well, they do say there's a correlation between mathematics and music…"
A round of applause interrupted the conversations as Mari took a quick bow and scurried off to another room. Kyouya figured that she had to get ready for the next venue – the evening reception. He watched as she greeted a few guests, shaking their hand and thanking them for their kind words. Mari's smile was warm. Genuine, even. He watched her from afar, taking note of how graceful she acted around all the elders.
She was truly a woman of class if he didn't know her any better.
Mari changed into a black dress. High neck, low back. Her lips were painted a dark red, a much darker colour from the afternoon to reflect how she had felt inside. She ripped the bobby pins out of her hair to let it all down. Mari slipped into the shadows, as always. That was where she wanted to be.
She hated everyone and everything here.
All she wanted to do was to go back to Boston – start her major as a chemistry student and forget about Japan. Who cared, right? She was the forgotten child with no expectations to fulfill. What was the harm in leaving forever?
Mari casually grabbed two glasses of wine from a waiter, walking away with ease as she slipped outside onto the balcony. She poured the wine into one glass and sipped slowly. Mari immediately wanted to choke. It was bitter. It left a sour taste in her mouth with the burn of alcohol that warmed her body.
God, this is gross. Why do the rich love it so much?
It was expensive, she imagined. Alcohol was meant to take the edge off of things but all in all, the day turned sour as soon as any mention of the piano had taken place. Mari wondered if the wine would taste better with time. She slowly worked her way down the glass, immediately regretting the decision.
"Never pegged you as someone that would actually enjoy wine," a voice called out to her.
Mari turned around to give a glare to the stranger who stood behind her. He was at least five feet away from what she could hear. Dressed in an impeccable suit, the light could only illuminate his silhouette before he came closer to her at a slow pace, careful not to scare her off. He had done that too many times before. Only the reflection off their glasses gave away who they were.
"Kyouya?" Mari squinted her eyes. "God, please. Not now. I don't have any patience to deal with you." She took another large gulp of her wine.
"You shouldn't be drinking."
"Says who?" Mari shot back.
"The law."
Mari couldn't argue against that.
"I won't tell," the Ootori smirked. He came around with his own glass of wine. "You played wonderf—"
"I don't want to hear it," the pianist coldly cut him off.
Kyouya was taken back by her snappish tone. He was complimenting her and she was suddenly on the defense. He narrowed his eyes at her.
"You put up such a sweet façade for someone that is actually quite rude," he pointed out.
Mari ran a hand through her long hair in frustration.
"I'm sorry," she muttered. "It's been a long day."
"I could imagine."
He let the silence settle.
"You alright?" the Ootori asked.
"No, but thank you for asking," Mari bluntly answered. She finished off the rest of her wine and stared at the glass for a moment.
"I'm going to break this," she decided.
"What?" The girl in front of him was crazy. Kyouya couldn't believe his ears.
Mari repeated the sentence. "I'll try not to hit you with the glass shards."
"What?" Kyouya was still staring at her in disbelief, taking a step back to shield himself.
Mari threw the glass against the pavement of the balcony. The music was far too loud for anyone to even notice. She reached for the second glass but not before Kyouya swatted her arm away.
"Is this what you are? A violent drunk?"
Mari laughed. "I'm far from drunk, but I'll let you know what kind of drunk I really am someday. I just want to relieve some stress."
"Normal people just go for a run or… read a book! What the hell are you doing?"
"Getting lectured by an old man," Mari grumbled. "Just… throw it."
Kyouya widened his eyes at her.
"I'm not breaking this glass."
"Too scared to break the rules? Come on. You've spent your whole life all prim and proper. Break out of the stupid mold of being a prodigal son. Live a little, won't you?"
Kyouya stared at the empty wine glass.
"Why are you angry?"
"Because everyone in that room seems to think I only amount to being a stupid pianist," Mari scoffed. "And…" she swallowed. There was a gaping hole in her heart that she had thought had healed, even after two years. "Never mind. Don't fucking break the damn glass. Live your life the way you want to."
"You're an awful influence, you know?" Kyouya reminded.
"Because I encouraged you to break a wine glass at a venue that probably has hundreds more to spare? Okay there," the girl rolled her eyes. "Call me a rebel."
Kyouya drank out of his own wine glass, keeping the empty one far away from Mari who had her arms crossed. She looked out into the city. The evening reception was held at a hotel with a stunning view. Everyone was still gathered inside, mingling about.
"You're here for Akito, aren't you?"
Kyouya nodded.
"If they were really good friends, he'd show up to his friend's wedding," Mari mumbled. "I hate the rich."
The Ootori scoffed. "Tell me about it."
Mari gave him a suspicious look. "Well, it's not like you're here to wish my brother well, either. You're just here to save face."
"You really have no filter tonight, do you?" Kyouya rolled his eyes. He can't say he was entirely offended.
"I don't usually have a filter in general."
"Then tell me why you're really mad."
The girl shifted her weight against her back. She leaned against the railing of the balcony, watching the wedding guests laugh and mingle.
"I don't play the piano anymore," Mari explained.
"I know," his tone turned soft. "I didn't hear you play in the Second Music Room at Ouran after you won Internationals."
She turned to him in surprise. "I didn't think you would notice… or care, really."
He shrugged. "You were at the medical wing more than you were at the Second Music Room."
"Oh," Mari forgot that he had spotted her there a few times. "Yeah. I had some counselling sessions."
Kyouya nodded. That would explain why he never saw her with any visible injuries. He glanced at her. Her eyelashes fluttered in the night, her eyes accentuated by her eyeshadow. The bold lip colour really suited her, he realized. She looked like a Queen of the Darkness.
"My piano teacher died," Mari blurted out. "Summer before our Third Year." She bit her lip, still taking in the fact that she had shared such a fact with someone other than her counsellor. And with the most annoying guy she had ever known, mind you. Perhaps it was the alcohol, Mari thought to herself. Or maybe… she just couldn't keep it repressed for any longer.
"I'm sorry to hear that," his voice came out more robotic than intended. "I didn't know."
She chuckled. "No one knew. It's fine." Mari looked away.
"So what made you play today?" Kyouya softly asked. He wasn't sure if this was even an appropriate question.
Mari shook her head. "I had to save face, I guess? Today's playing was atrocious."
"It wasn't—"
"Oh, but it was. I only had 10 minutes to study the score. Muscle memory served me right – but I missed all the details. The delicate crescendos that shaped all the phrasing. The pianissimo that could have been brought out so much longer for a finish… and not to mention—"
Mari stopped herself. "Sorry. I just… I definitely didn't play as I should have. I… I hate playing because I can never do any piece justice, not without her."
"You can play for enjoyment?" Kyouya suggested.
"I fall into old habits a lot," she explained. "I become obsessed with the score. But I just… I can't stop thinking about my mentor, mostly. And then it's just a whole series of guilt and self-doubt," Mari laughed darkly. "It's a mess, really. I don't play because it's not that good for my mental health."
"Oh," Kyouya murmured. "I see."
"Yeah," Mari sighed. "Sorry. This… this is really the tip of the iceberg. Gosh, my counsellor at Ouran heard much worse. I pity him, really."
"They were just doing their job," Kyouya pointed out. "You shouldn't feel sorry."
Mari was sceptical. "Sure. I guess." He could tell that she still dwelled on the topic. A turmoil of emotions that she battled from within.
"You look like the Queen of the Underworld," Kyouya tried to divert the topic. Mari wore the bold lip with her eyes that narrowed at anyone who crossed her path. Her black dress let her hide in the shadows, with only her pale skin that glowed in the moonlight.
"Oh?" Mari raised an eyebrow at him. "Fit to rule alongside the Shadow King?"
"Hades, remember?" Kyouya reminded.
Mari called him that on their graduation day. A little over a year ago now. Mari was surprised that he took it to heart.
"Persephone was the Queen of Spring. I'm far from that tonight. Besides, I couldn't rule alongside you," Mari smirked. "What would my boyfriend think?"
His mouth opened in surprise. This was new information. He couldn't quite process it then and there.
"I mean, I couldn't bring him here because…" Mari pointed at the guests. "This is a lot to take in. And… well, flying to Japan is expensive,"
"Must be a commoner," Kyouya cleared his throat after composing himself.
Mari rolled her eyes at the phrase. "Yeah, I suppose… I mean, it's recent. Met him at the lab that I volunteered at and… it just happened, I guess. We'll see where it goes. Not that it matters because my whole family really doesn't seem to care about me," she added jokingly. They both knew it was far from a joke.
She sighed, running a hand through her hair and placing the loose strands behind her ear. She wore dangling pearl earrings that added another level of sophistication. Nothing about her was flashy today – of course, it was out of respect to the bride. Mari had never dressed in a flashy manner, never her style.
"Thanks for dealing with my shit," her voice was soft. Her eyes averted elsewhere. "I'll see you on campus, Kyouya. Safe travels."
Mari patted him on the shoulder and gave him a polite smile before she left for the night. The Shadow King watched as she disappeared back into the crowds with her stiletto heels.
What would my boyfriend think?
He reached for the wine glass and smashed it against the pavement.
She was right. It did make him feel better.
