Chapter 12

She lived alone, just as she always liked it. Her quiet mornings always began with a cup of coffee or tea, depending on her mood. She settled on the bar stool at the kitchen and gazed through the glass windows that overlooked the city. Her apartment was minimal with only furniture, no décor whatsoever unless you counted the bookshelf with her textbooks she accumulated over the years. Quiet classical music played in the background.

There was something very comforting in being alone. She had been living like this for years. It was the only thing she knew how to do: be alone.

Mari wondered if this was abnormal. Kanda had settled down with his wife and family at an early age. Even Yuki, the baby of the family, had a boyfriend – a respectable one of course, an heir to a jewelry line. Mari had yet to meet him. She didn't care for it, really. Yuki had multiple publicized relationships from what she had heard.

She was not interested in being with anyone. Mari reconnected with her old Ouran classmates now that she was back in Tokyo, meeting them for a quick coffee and sometimes a meal. They all had significant others that they were with for years. Yet Mari never felt truly alone – with support from her network of academia, of old friends, and classmates but she always felt capable of being just on her own.

Mari was a workaholic. Her research became her significant other – she was married to the work and would not have had it any other way. She stared at the empty space in her apartment.

She hated to admit it but she needed a hobby. Between the lab, teaching, sleeping, and eating – her life was mundane. Mari took up running in the mornings, just to shut off her mind. She contemplated on getting a pet but was hesitant at the lack of time she had to take care of one. Mari lived the life of an old spinster, she thought to herself.

Mari didn't like going out – clubbing, parties, drinking… she had dabbled in that lifestyle in her undergrad before deciding it wasn't for her. Goodness, her life was boring. Yet, Mari found it very fulfilling. Everyone's lives were boring and mundane, slipping in the same routine on the daily.

Hers just happened to be a little quieter.


He, on the other hand still lived in the mansion. It was always quiet. He hardly stayed there anyway. His parents were somewhere on the property – though he rarely saw them, if at all. Kyouya awoke in the midst of the afternoon and checked his messages.

There weren't any. Just emails. He had work to do. He didn't have a chance to be bored with so many things to do.

Don't you have people for this? Tamaki once asked when they had gotten brunch together. Kyouya had just received an email to review a document that needed approval. He was in the midst of typing out a response when his friend sighed at him. Isn't this the point of having directors of departments?

It was early afternoon by the time he had settled at his desk again. His home office was just another extension of his bedroom. Their butler had gotten him a cup of black coffee that was already placed on his desk when he stepped out of the shower.

He sifted through his email first. The first few were company-related. And then there was this one.

From: Mari Takuya

Subject: MT Progress – August
Sent: Today, 10:03 AM

Mr. Ootori,

As requested, you can find the encrypted file attached.

Let me know if you have any questions.

Dr. Takuya

He opened up the file. Quite frankly, he did not have the scientific background to understand the progress of the drug fully. He skimmed over the conclusion and deemed that the project was progressing, though at a very slow pace. It would have been nice to have an in-depth conversation about this, he thought. He wanted to learn about it. It was genuine curiosity.

From: Kyouya Ootori

Subject: MT Progress – August

Sent: Today, 2:12 PM

Mari,

Are you at your lab office?

Regards,

K

Mari scoffed at the email that popped up on her phone. How did he know she was in her office? It was the weekend but Mari refused to give him the satisfaction of being right. Also, it boggled her mind that he used his company email as if it were for personal use. Perks of being the CEO, she figured. Mari responded quickly on her laptop with emphasis on her formal tone.

Mr. Ootori,

I am not.

Dr. Takuya

Kyouya smirked at the quick response of Mari. She replied within minutes. He switched over to his phone and texted her instead. For someone who moved so often, she kept her Japanese phone number after all these years.

You must be free then.

Mari groaned at the buzzing of her phone. She was nearly done counting cells before he interrupted her concentration. She had to start over again. What a prick. There was another buzz.

Meet me at this address. 5 PM.

She glanced at the location before returning back to work. By the time Mari had called it a day, she wondered if it would be a good idea to go home and change into a more appropriate outfit. Of course, the Ootori would always choose a location that was of high class. All Mari had on was her athletic wear from her morning run. Her stomach grumbled. She had been counting cells pretty much all day.

She could go for an early dinner. Mari sighed and picked up her keys. Her condo was only 3 subway stops away. She could slip into something more appropriate, she thought.


Mari slipped into the restaurant quietly, spotting him by the windows of the restaurant before the server could even guide her. She held up a polite hand, silently letting the staff know that she could find her own way.

He was gazing through the menu, the reflection of his glasses was the only thing that stood out from his silhouette illuminated by the sun. Mari was always on time – never late. She was taught better than to waste people's time, of course.

Mari layered a floral chiffon blouse under a thin blazer, complete with dark jeans and Louboutins that echoed with every step. She raised her sunglasses to the top of her head and put down her clutch that only had the essentials: phone, keys, and her credit cards. She was in casual clothing, or as casual as one could be covered in designer clothes from head to toe.

Kyouya looked up to the woman who stood tall against the table. Her sunglasses rested firmly against the bun before her long French manicured fingers delicately took them off. She seated herself and asked for a glass of water.

"Too early for wine?" Kyouya smirked.

"You know I don't like wine," Mari scoffed.

She liked craft beer. The commoner stuff. He never understood why but allowed her to take a gander at the menu for a few minutes.

Mari broke the silence first.

"I'm here because I'm hungry after working all day," her tone was snappish.
"I thought you weren't at your office," Kyouya pointed out.
"I didn't want to be disturbed," Mari answered without missing a beat. She had things to do and Mari was annoyed that the Ootori had already interrupted her over the afternoon.

"I had some questions about your report," the Ootori continued.

Mari blinked. "Of course." For some reason she had the impression that he just invited her out for no other reason other than to get on her nerves, as he usually had. He had some insightful questions, all of which were easily answered by Mari as if she were teaching a student.

They ordered their meal and the Ootori continued on with his questions as they waited for their courses. Mari narrowed her eyes at him, confused.

"Why are you looking at me like your water had turned sour?"
Mari shrugged. "Honestly, I thought you wanted to catch up as friends. Not talk science."
"Do you not want to talk science?" Kyouya raised an eyebrow at her.
"No, I love talking about science. Particularly my science," Mari admitted, like any academic.

They chewed their food in silence for a bit.

"You will be an aunt again, won't you?" Kyouya changed the topic swiftly. Catching up. Like old friends, as she said.
"Yeah," Mari nodded. Somehow, the change in topic was welcomed. "Emi is due in a few weeks, actually."
"And Taika?"
"I would think he is doing wonderfully… especially for a 5 year old," the aunt smiled at the thought of her laughing nephew.

He tried not to notice her smile. The way she looked down at her food. How she poked at the vegetables that she didn't like but would still shove into her mouth because she was raised better than to waste food. Kyouya was about to look away before she looked up from her plate.

Her eyes were so mesmerizing.

"How about you?" she asked.
"I have no progeny," Kyouya answered robotically.

Mari rolled her eyes. "I meant nieces or nephews."
"Oh," the Ootori paused. "I heard something about Yuuichi having children but they bear no meaning when I am the heir. Fuyumi still doesn't want kids. Something about running the foundation for a few more years."

Mari blinked. "Gosh, sometimes I forget how dysfunctional your family is."
"Yours isn't?"

"Not to your extent," Mari chuckled. "Or I mean, I guess we had a bit of a one-sided rift when I was younger but my siblings and I get along fine now."
Kyouya shrugged. "The Takuyas are the epitome of the perfect upper-class family."
"Yeah," Mari blinked. "Kanda has the company. Yuki has her own little empire. I stay out of everyone's way. It's a beautiful ecosystem we built."
"Rare," Kyouya noted as he put down his cutlery.
"Well, your family consists of 3 sons and 1 daughter. We had it easy. Kanda, the first-born son. And me, and then Yuki. The obvious choice was Kanda."

Kyouya sat back in his seat. "Imagine if you were any different, Mari."
"I wouldn't want to be any different, Kyouya," Mari rolled her eyes. "Business is child's play. Science is where we'll revolutionize the world."
Kyouya scoffed. "Can't bring your science to revolutionize anything if it won't reach the market. Don't be naïve, Mari."

Mari nodded, her expression sorrowful. "Yeah. Money seems to ruin a lot of things."
"Money is where the power is," Kyouya corrected her.
She sighed. "We were born into so much power, you know? I wish more of us knew it and honed it correctly."

Kyouya looked at her with amazement. By now, you would have thought the woman should have turned into a cynic, with the cut throat world of academia chipping away at her. Mari knew how the world worked – and it only worked in the favour of those who had power.

"I'm doing my best, Mari," he softly reassured.

Mari looked him in the eye. "I know. I know how much you fund your R&D division and your partnerships with all these academic institutions. Dare I say… I think you are one of the good ones," she flashed him one of those smirks that only made him look away. She was dangerous, and she had no idea.

The servers came to take their plates before handing them the dessert menu. He of course, opted for a coffee. Mari took the tiramisu.

"I missed this," she quietly admitted. She looked away into the window. All of Tokyo was at the palm of their hand. It was stunning and it was certainly no surprise that the Ootori would pick a place with a great view. It was all part of the ambiance.

"What?" the Ootori raised his eyebrow at her. He knew better now than to make assumptions about what they had.
"Our friendship," Mari smiled. "I like that we could talk about these things."
"Our privilege and our wealth?" Kyouya smirked.
"Because no one quite understands… rich people problems," Mari spat out. "Except for, well, rich people."

Kyouya chuckled. "You know, you dress the part of what those would call rich for someone who tries to differentiate from us."
"Oh, you mean my Louboutins and my Versace sunglasses?" Mari rolled her eyes. "I don't think this place would let me in if I wore my clothes from Uniqlo, Kyouya."
"What's Uniqlo?" His voice had no sarcasm to it. It was pure confusion.

Mari blinked.

"Sometimes I also forget you're richer than me," she rolled her eyes.
"Is that also a hint that I should be grabbing the bill?" the Ootori scoffed.

Mari shook her head and narrowed her eyes. "I have a trust fund, I can certainly grab the bill."
"It's too late," he coolly said.

"I owe you," Mari muttered in response, rolling her eyes again.
"Friends don't owe each other anything," Kyouya got up from his seat. Mari followed in suit. She was almost as tall as him with her heels. Mari looked up at him.
"Not when you're friends with an Ootori," she smirked. "I know better than that."

The Ootori laughed. For real. Mari forgot that his laugh was surprisingly contagious, probably because she laughed at his own laughter. Such a strange sight to see the Shadow King laugh for someone that hardly ever showed any emotion.

He gestured towards the exit and let her walk first, like a gentleman. Mari took the offer and walked ahead without looking back. They stood outside of the restaurant, with Kyouya waiting for his chauffer and Mari waiting for her taxi.

"An honour to have a meal with the ever so busy Ootori," Mari sarcastically commented.
"You're quite busy yourself," Kyouya brushed off her snarky comment. "Do you have any free time at all?"
"I run in the mornings," Mari answered honestly. "Clears my mind of… you know, all the things I have to do. You're welcome to join, if you can get up."
Kyouya scoffed. "I won't." He was uninterested as soon as he heard the word morning.

She chuckled, knowing that he would answer the way he did. "You should try it. You know, when you have a sleepless night or something."

The two friends parted ways amicably.


"You had dinner with the Takuya girl last weekend," Fuyumi walked into his office as Kyouya had gotten off a conference call. The Ootori made note to fire his secretary for not being able to keep Fuyumi out.

"You had people follow me?"
"Well, you weren't telling me anything!"

Kyouya closed his office door while his sister caused a scene. It would probably be the talk of the entire upper floor by lunch time.

"We're just friends," the brother seethed.
"Uh, you paid for her dinner, Kyouya! That's a date."
"We're friends," he tried again.

Fuyumi crossed her arms and shook her head. "You guys were classmates in Ouran too?"
"Well, our friendship had to start somewhere," Kyouya grumbled. "We aren't anything more than that."

The older sister looked at him with an expression that screamed skepticism.

"She doesn't want anything more than that," he said again.
"She's the same age as you! A prime time for marriage! How could she not?" Fuyumi threw her hands up. By Kyouya's age, she had already been married for 5 years. "She's also of good lineage. Not great but—"

Kyouya perched up his glasses and calmly responded to his sister.

"There is nothing between us, Fuyumi."
"If there was nothing between you two, then you would have said we don't want anything more than friendship. But you specified her," Fuyumi smiled in her victory.

The Ootori heir rolled his eyes.

"I respect her wishes," Kyouya's patience was waning.
"I'm just saying she's a good candidate."
"Candidate?" Kyouya scoffed. "She doesn't believe in marriage."

Fuyumi tilted her head in confusion. She gave a look of disgust. "Why not?"
Kyouya laughed. "As if marriage was anything more than a business contract for any of us. She has a point."
"So you don't believe in marriage either?" his sister pressed on.

The younger brother walked back to his desk and shrugged. "I'm saying she has a point."
"Then it's perfect," she clapped her hands.
"Two people who don't believe in the sanctity of marriage… getting married? Fuyumi, are you out of your mind?" Kyouya couldn't roll his eyes farther back to his head.

The older sister let out a large sigh.

"Are you somehow attracted to her allure of being a rebel against the upper class and you, being stupidly uptight finds—"
"—Fuyumi, I am not an archetype from a romantic comedy," Kyouya closed his eyes and pinched his nose in frustration.
"Maybe she—"
"—She isn't something you can reduce to, either. I don't have time for your silly psychoanalysis," Kyouya pointed towards the door.

Fuyumi crossed her arms and marched towards the exit.

"Well fine," the older sister huffed. She had one more card to play. "Did you know that her father was checked into our hospital this morning?"


Mari never liked hospitals. The only sterile environment she was used to was her laboratory.

"I have been trying to call you for hours," her mother yelled over the phone. Mari left her phone in her office. No cellphones were allowed in the lab, of course. It was well into the evening before she had checked the 10 missed calls and a plethora of text messages from her family members.

"Your father had a heart attack this morning, Mari. We're at the Ootori Private Hospital in Bunkyo."

Sure enough, Mari was always the last to arrive in family gatherings. The black sheep of the family, as one would describe. Kanda sat by his wife's side in the hospital suite. Emi wobbled to get up before Mari held onto her sister-in-law's arm and told her it was unnecessary. Yuki's eyes were swollen from the crying. Always the dramatic one, Mari thought to herself.

Mari hadn't seen her parents since the wedding of Kanda. It was no surprise that the wrath of the Takuya matriarch had been building over the years. Mari bowed slightly out of politeness to her mother only to be met with piercing eyes.

"Mother," she curtly greeted.

"After all these years of running off doing whatever you've been doing, you show up when it's far too late! Do you know nothing of filial piety, Mari? We raised an ungrateful—"

"I did not come here to get scolded," Mari tried her best to hold her tongue. She turned to Kanda and asked about their father's condition. He needed to be operated on, but the waitlist was rather long. Two to three weeks at a minimum, Kanda regurgitated what the doctor had said.

Mari excused herself and made a call to the only person she knew that could help.

"Mari," he greeted. He had been expecting her call, anyway.
"Kyouya," she sighed. "I need a favour…" her voice strained. Mari looked at the time. It was nearly 9 PM. "I know it's late and—"

"Nepotism has no curfew," the Ootori tried to joke. He was only met with silence. It was only then that he realized that this favour made her feel uncomfortable for asking. It shouldn't have been, but she had always been the one with a stronger moral compass than he.
"I guess you heard about my father then," Mari murmured.

"I'm sorry," Kyouya could only apologize. Whether he apologized for the poor joke or for the unfortunate events, Mari did not bother to dwell on it. It was hard enough to get the Ootori to apologize in the first place.
"Heart disease is the leading cause of death," she shrugged. "Can't help but to fall into the statistic, I suppose."

It was her way of joking. He knew that by now.

"I can do whatever I can," Kyouya reassured. "I will personally see to the fact that his surgery be moved to tomorrow."
"How?" Mari blinked. "Are you getting someone to work overtime? How do hospitals work? Will someone else suffer for it?"

"I'll take care of it, Mari," he softly reassured. "Go. Spend time with your family."

She let his words sink in for a bit.

"I really don't want to," Mari sighed. "I forgot that my mother was… quite the nuisance."
He laughed. It was relatable. Only in rich dysfunctional families, he thought.

"Well… I'll let you go," she reluctantly said goodbye. "Thank you, Kyouya. I mean it."
Mari stepped back into the hospital suite with all eyes on her.

"I made a call to the Ootori," she explained monotonously.
"So did I," Kanda added. "Akito said he couldn't do anything as hospital director of another hospital location. He put in a word for us though." Mari remembered that the Ootori's private facilities spanned across the country. Akito's power did not compare to Kyouya's, of course.

"I called the CEO," Mari explained. "You met him briefly at an alumni event at Harvard," she reminded.

"Kyouya Ootori?" Kanda's eyes widened. "You're still in contact with him?"

Mari shrugged. "We've known each other since Ouran."

"I've known Akito since Ouran too," Kanda grumbled. "Did Kyouya say anything?"

Mari shook her head. "We'll just have to wait and see."

"Wait and see," their mother repeated coldly. "That isn't enough. What have you possibly contributed to this family?"
The middle child exhaled. "I don't understand why we have to focus on my shortcomings when we are here for Father."

"We hardly ever see you," the mother spat. "You show up to the bare minimum of family events."

The other Takuya siblings could do nothing but hold their tongue. Kanda and Emi knew how often Mari would come to take care of Taika, her beloved nephew. Mari had come to Yuki's launch party for her new line of jewelry, which meant a lot considering the fact that neither Kanda nor Emi had shown. Mari had been there for her siblings when they needed it the most.

"You had such a bright future ahead of you and you decided to go and do what?"
"Get 3 degrees," Mari muttered with gritted teeth.

"You could have been a world class pianist, Mari," her mother scolded. "What good does being an academic bring?"
The middle child could not help but laugh at the logic. "What good does being a pianist bring?"
"A worthy reputation," the Takuya matriarch filled in the blank for her middle child. "How can we marry you off if you are just some academic?"

The doctorate shrugged. "I won't get married then."
"That is absolute nonsense. You are obviously of marriageable age. People are asking about you."

Mari chuckled. "Oh, so I do exist. Kanda is doing a superb job at upholding the family honour. Yuki has her own company and she has been doing so wonderfully on her own. Does it matter what I do?"
"What do you do, Mari?" her mother snarled.
"I research," she answered curtly. "I don't think my line of work interests you, even if I did go into depth so I will spare you the time. But I will tell you that I do nothing that dishonours the name of this family."

"You do nothing," the Takuya matriarch repeated. "Why did you even stop playing the piano?"
Mari blinked at the question, processing what had been said. "You never knew?"

"What do you mean?" her mother narrowed her eyes. Her patience was thin.

The grown woman took a step back and shook her head. She was tired of it all. Mari only realized it now. "You never cared to even look into what happened?" Mari should have known that she was always going to be the one child that was overlooked until it was convenient for her to show up. No one said anything until the mother spoke.

"We all thought you had quit to prove some sort of… silly point!" Mari looked around to find her entire family looking away from her in discomfort. She could only sigh.

"Louise died." The words were easier to roll off her tongue than it was over a decade ago. She had come to terms with it all, but it seemed like it was still news to some. "More specifically, she committed suicide."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Kanda pitched in, his tone soft but cautious. Emi's hand was over her chest in sympathy. Yuki's eyes welled up in tears in thinking how her older sister must have felt to have gone through it all alone.

"You were busy at Harvard. Yuki was too young to understand. Our parents were handling the business. Who was I supposed to tell?" Mari muttered. "It's fine… now," she added. "So forgive me for not wanting to pursue a career out of something that traumatized me in my adolescence," Mari's words were sharp and her eyes darted at her mother.

"I didn't know," the Takuya matriarch offered.
"You didn't ask," Mari responded without missing a beat. "No one did, so no worries on that."

The family let the blanket of silence settle before Mari spoke again.

"I do not intend to tarnish the name of our family," she began. "But I live peacefully and quietly. So yes, perhaps I do nothing. I certainly do nothing to stop the family's dynasties from thriving. I play my role just as well as everyone else."

"Mari—" her mother tried again.

"It doesn't matter what you think of me now or what you could have done. I ask that you respect my choices and my life," Mari firmly stated.
"Of course we do," Kanda chimed in. "I always have."
"I know, Kanda," Mari murmured. "My siblings were never the issue. It was you," she turned to her mother.

"Are you calling me a bad parent?" the matriarch accused with her eyes narrowed.
"I never called you anything. I am grateful for the opportunities that have been provided," Mari made clear. "I just ask that you let me live the way I want to."

The baby of the family nodded. "Yeah, you have given us the freedom to thrive – why not let Mari do the same?"
"Because Mari never liked following rules," their mother snapped.

She blinked in confusion. This made no sense to Mari. "What have I done?"
"You mingled with the commoners for so much of your life that you have forgotten your roots. Bringing home a white boy from America and thinking you—"

"That was almost a decade ago," Mari explained with exasperation. Bryan was hardly ever on her mind nowadays. He had broken her heart just as she had with his. Mari never knew if she could be worthy of a partner ever again, quite frankly. "My goodness, I was naïve and I was young. I thought I was in love and I thought he could handle the crazy dysfunctional upper class but he couldn't. And I couldn't either for that matter."

"So you left us for nearly a decade?"

Mari crossed her arms and shook her head at her mother. "What are you getting at, Mother? Are you angry because I haven't been around to be the model daughter to show off over the past decade?"

Kanda placed a hand on Mari's shoulder. That's enough. She relented.

"We've had a long day," Kanda tried to diffuse the tension. "Let's meet tomorrow."

"For another day of family bonding," Mari muttered sarcastically.

She was the first to leave without even looking back.


Mari reached her office at her usual time: 8 AM. Before the rest of the lab had trickled in, Mari liked the peace and quiet of the hallways and the time to plan her day. She sipped on her tea, mulling in her thoughts on this rainy summer day. Her phone vibrated 20 minutes past the hour.

"Kyouya," Mari picked up. "You're up early."

"I thought to let you know that your father's surgery has been moved to the end of the week, not today as promised." Turns out, even the CEO couldn't quite meddle with surgery schedules that were made well in advance. End of the week was the best he could do as he spoke with the cardiac department in an emergency video call in the morning.

"That's quite alright," Mari murmured. "You have done more than enough, really."

There was a pause.

"You sound anxious," Kyouya commented. Her tone was more cautious than usual.
"It's nothing," Mari brushed off. "I apologize for the inconvenience… and this is far too early for you to be up." She knew her friend well.

Kyouya sighed. He had to admit there was a headache forming at his temples.

"You probably haven't even had your coffee yet," Mari murmured. "I won't keep you."
"We can get coffee together," the words just fell off of his tongue. He wasn't sure why he said that either.

She paused, mulling over the idea. "Yeah, I guess that's the least I could owe you. Let's meet at the café near my university."
"The upscale one?"
"Of course," Mari grumbled. It was a secluded café that attracted only the rich and sophisticated. Their high teas were always booked. It was still fairly early in the morning by the time he would reach there. Mari figured it would be suitable for him, and early enough that they could get a table.

"I'll see you in an hour." He hung up.

Kyouya jumped out of his desk chair, closing the lid of his laptop and placing files on this desk quickly into his briefcase. He took a shower and noted that his headache had magically disappeared as he exited out of his bathroom. Never had he gotten ready at this pace especially at this hour of the morning. Even his chauffer was surprised by the sudden call to bring the car around.

"I'll drive myself," Kyouya mumbled. He could only imagine Mari making some sort of snarky comment about having a chauffer drive him around everywhere and that he did not have to lift even the slightest of a finger. Mari always prided herself in being independent – and as much as Kyouya hated to admit it, he respected that.

Mari arrived early to the café, choosing a spot by the window. Her mind was all over the place. She reeled from last night's events, feeling like she always had: not belonging. She drifted off into thinking about her work, wondering if her project would ever find success. She felt lost with far too many things on her mind.

I need therapy, Mari thought to herself.

Kyouya spotted her immediately and walked over at a hurried pace – it seemed like he had been in a hurry with his hair a little ruffled and his outfit more casual than Mari would have expected.

"I didn't realize parking in the city would be such a hassle," he grumbled.
Mari narrowed her eyes in confusion. "Why would you drive in the middle of Tokyo? Public transport here has always been the most efficient." Mari was much more acquainted with what he considered the commoner lifestyle. It always boggled Mari when the upper class had no common sense sometimes.

She shook her head and sighed. A quick gesture to the server who was nearby had two coffees served at their table within minutes. Mari let the Ootori drink his coffee in peace for a few minutes while she too, settled back into her seat and let her mind wander.

"Your father will be fine," Kyouya tried to reassure her after the coffee had kicked into his system. "Our hospitals will provide the utmost care."
"I know," she gave a weak smile. "Thank you. I do appreciate your efforts."
"Then why do you look so forlorn, Mari?"

She was surprised at his comment. "Is that what I look like?" She would have expected him to comment on how tired she must have looked. How pale her face must have been, especially as they sat near the window.

Kyouya studied her face again. She pushed up the frames of her glasses and let them rest on her head. Her lashes fluttered as she tried to delicately rub her eyes without ruining her makeup. She sighed and looked back up at him, squinting a little without her glasses. She was still so beautiful even after all these years.

"Perhaps forlorn is not the word I would describe myself right now," she murmured. "I know my father is in good hands."
"Then what is it?" Kyouya asked, bluntly without caring about being delicate.

"I never really belonged in my family," Mari voiced her thoughts out loud. "I was always forgotten as the middle child. I accepted it. I relished in that reputation. But last night…" she shrugged. "I forgot how much it hurt that they never cared to understand why I was so distant. I was disappointed."

"Dysfunctional families are our specialty," the Ootori murmured. He lifted his hand for another refill of his coffee. Mari nodded in agreement.
"Yeah. Though I suppose my family is not as jaded as yours. They still believe that we are meant to be one cohesive unit. I seem to be the only one who went rogue."
Kyouya shrugged. "You've done well for yourself."
"Thanks," Mari chuckled. "I think so too."

The Ootori could not offer many words of consolation. That was not his specialty. Emotions over logical reasoning never sat well with him, but he knew Mari felt the same. They were two peas in one pod, even if they both hated to admit it.

"Expectations will always lead to disappointment," Kyouya answered. "That is why we have none when it comes to family."
"Hm," Mari mulled over that idea. "That's messed up."

"Is it?" Kyouya was always taught that this was just another method of survival.
"Call me naïve or idealistic," the scientist grumbled. "But I do not think our cynicism will do us any good on developing relationships."

"What relationships are there to develop?"

Mari laughed.

"I think our friendship has blossomed immensely over the years, even if it took over a decade."

Kyouya took a sip of his coffee. It was good coffee, he had to admit. The dark roast was specially imported from Java. Each kilogram costed hundreds of dollars. It was the sort of coffee fit for a king – as it were, he was the Shadow King after all.

"The point is," Mari explained. "We're only human. Even if I don't want to feel, I still feel the anger, the disappointment, the sadness no matter what."
"And you do not feel happiness?"

The scientist shook her head. "I feel happiness. I feel love. I feel all the highs and all the lows. I just… need to process it."
"Processing," Kyouya repeated. "For a human, you sound quite like a robot."
She rolled her eyes. "For a robot, you are doing a poor job at acting human now," she shot back.

They were always able to banter like this. The two smiled at each other, missing the days of how they would sit on his couch years ago and talk about the smallest things. The things that made them annoyed throughout their days, the odd thought that they found amusing, the time they both aired out their grievances against one another.

"I need therapy," Mari admitted. "I just always thought I was okay. But I don't really think I am."
"Why?" The Ootori sounded surprised.

She blinked. "I just feel unsettled… emotionally. I should work out some things that I might have been repressing for a long time."
"Like what?" he pressed.

Mari rolled her eyes. "Nothing for me to burden you with."
"It's fine," Kyouya murmured. "We're friends. Tamaki is always telling me stupid things."

"The things I tell you are not stupid," the woman huffed. Kyouya would be an awful therapist, she thought to herself.
"All the more reason to share," the Ootori tried again.

Mari shook her head. "Emotional baggage is not your field of expertise, Ootori-san." The woman was set in her ways, refusing to crack under the Ootori's most convincing smile. Though it was more of a sinister grin if anything.

"I always thought I was normal," Mari explained after he stared at her in offense of her last comment. "More normal than the rest of my family members."
"You mean, you had commoner-like ways?"

Mari bit her tongue at the phrase commoner. "How did Haruhi put up with you guys…" she grumbled. "The point is, I thought I was down-to-earth and I thought… I could be normal and live quietly. Maybe happily too."
"With a trust fund," Kyouya added.

Mari sighed at the truth. She was a trust fund kid. He was stupidly rich. Mari was never going to escape this lifestyle, even if she tried to hide it.

"I mean, my career is going splendidly… for an academic," the scientist shuddered. "But I thought I was happy and I guess, last night with my family just made me realize I was far from it."
"Families are not meant to be a source of happiness," the Ootori brushed off.

Mari shook her head. "I think they can be. Or I mean, not my own family but – you know. Actual families support each other."
"We don't have that luxury, Mari." Kyouya rolled his eyes. He spent his life despising his brothers, plotting against them like they had at him. Kyouya saw the family butler more often than he saw his father.

"It's odd that we call emotional support a luxury, don't you think?" his friend pointed out with a smile. "It shouldn't be like that."
"Is that what commoners think?"

Mari took a sip of her coffee. "Yeah," she nodded. "At least from what I had observed." Observed being the keyword because the reality was, Mari would never be one of them. It took her years to come to that conclusion.

"Emotional support," Kyouya grumbled. "Sounds like a sham. Financial support is much more practical."
Mari nodded. "Yes, you are correct. But alas, I am human. And because we are rich, we can pay someone to be our emotional support," she half-joked.

"Waste of money," the Ootori rolled his eyes. "I can just be your emotional support. I'm your friend."
Mari laughed, nearly spilling her coffee. "Goodness, you are really out of your element here, Kyouya."

He crossed his arms in annoyance. He didn't like how she belittled him like this but she was the only one who could do it without him threatening her. She was not afraid of him, she never had been.

"I'm trying to be a good friend," he huffed as he rolled his eyes.
Mari paused. He really was trying. "Thank you," was all she could say. Her eyes grew soft at him, and suddenly all was forgiven. "You've done more than enough, Kyouya," she told him. "I know my father will be in good hands."

"But are you?" he raised an eyebrow.

She blinked at the question, not expecting the diversion to her. "I don't think it matters right now." It was her father that the Takuya family was worried about. Mari always quietly slipped into the shadows, dealing with her own problems. Her own rich people problems she thought to herself.

"It matters," Kyouya pressed. "It matters to me. You matter."
Mari let out a soft sigh, her gaze lingered away at the table with her now lukewarm coffee mug. Her delicate fingers reached for the handle. "Thanks."

"I mean it," the raven-haired King pressed on. She did not look convinced. She always had that look, the way her eyes would gaze into the distance as she thought. But Mari nodded to him in acknowledgement.

"I know," she gulped down the rest of her coffee. "I appreciate it."

"Do you?" he squinted at her.
"Well, I'm paying for your coffee," Mari smirked. She took out her credit card – the kind that only the elite carried. She let the card rest between her two fingers, the cool metal made a clinking sound when it touched the marble table. It was the same card that Kyouya had of course.

Mari coolly handed it to the server, even asking for a kilogram of coffee to be ground and bagged to go. A few hundred dollars was charged within seconds to no blink of an eye for the two of them.

"My gift to you," Mari murmured quietly. "A kilogram of productivity, imported from the fields of Java, only oceans away."
"You know I don't make my own coffee," he monotonously shot back, raising the frames of his glasses.

The scientist bit back her tongue. "Then you better learn because my trust fund only lasts for the next decade."
"Unless you get married," Kyouya reminded.

The server came by with a beautifully wrapped bag of ground coffee beans, placed in another travel bag for convenience. The aroma of the fresh beans wafted through their noses. Beautifully rich and nutty, it was hard resist keeping the bag for herself. Mari slid the bag over to his side of the table.

"It isn't much," Mari had to admit. "But take it as collateral for whatever you need in the future."
"I really can't imagine needing anything from you," the Ootori chuckled. He was half-joking.

Mari shrugged. "I can't say I offer much."
"You could offer yourself," the Shadow King lowly replied. His mouth twitched into a smirk. Mari could tell he was cracking a joke. Or rather, trying to crack a joke. A poor one at that. Kyouya tried to cover it up as he sipped the last bit of his own coffee.

"If you insist," the woman raised an eyebrow at him, her finger outlining the edge of her painted wine lips. Her voice low and sultry.

He choked as he met her eyes. Just one look had him thinking she was serious and that elicited an involuntary response.

"I," he tried to clarify himself in between fits of coughing. "I didn't mean—" Kyouya tried to gasp for air. He was now making a scene. "For you to…"

Mari couldn't help but to grin.

"Relax," the woman leaned back in her seat. She plopped her glasses back onto her face and placed her credit card into her card holder with ease. She travelled light, of course. She crossed her legs and smirked.

"I own a measly 4.5% in the family company. Enough to sit on the board and vote, only in emergency situations. Hardly enough wealth to make me worthy enough to be by your side. The only thing I have going for myself is the fact that I'm pretty smart and I have a doctorate to prove it."

Kyouya had finally settled down and cleared his throat.

"Right," he agreed. She's of good lineage. Not great but… Fuyumi's words rang in his head. At that time he only wanted to argue about why Mari's lineage was not the most defining thing about her. Kyouya could only nod vigorously at his friend's statement for now.

"I should get going," Mari looked at the time on her phone. "I need to wrap some work before heading to the hospital again today. Hopefully father wakes up and we'll play 'happy families' tonight."

"Let me know how it is," Kyouya stood from the seat. "Let me drive you," he offered.

Mari rolled her eyes. "I can walk five minutes, Kyouya. Just get to work. Enjoy the coffee." She patted him on the shoulder. He could smell her perfume lingering in the air. Floral notes of rose and gardenia. She smelled like a sophisticate. She smelled... almost intoxicating to him.

He watched her leave, noting how she gracefully bid goodbye to the servers with just a slight nod. Her steps were light but the heels she wore echoed down the hall. All he had left of her was a whole kilogram of imported coffee.

But quite frankly, he couldn't have had it any other way.

Kyouya stared at the bag of beans.

Perhaps he could ask his secretary how to make coffee today.