Chapter 14
Don't.
Don't be stupid, was all he could think of. She needed space, he could give her that. He could also give her the world if she asked for it. But why was he so willing? She hadn't done anything for him. He took a moment and thought about it. He couldn't say that – she was appreciative of him. She never expected anything of him, never once let him believe he was anything more than a friend.
That was all he wanted to be, right? He liked her presence, more than he did with the rest of the Host Club. He respected her more than he respected most people. She was a better person than he had ever been, quietly trying to make the world a better place without caring about the recognition. She had always been humble in her accomplishments.
Kyouya did not care for being anything more. What they had was enough. A friendship that had lasted over a decade. How could he ask for anything more than that? It would have been silly for him to expect anything more.
There are women of higher calibre than Mari.
She was not impressive by any means, quite mediocre according to the rich and elite. Mari didn't believe in marriage either. To be frank, Mari's non-traditional line of thinking would have stirred more problems for him than for her.
Mari always had the freedom.
My future is undefined. But yours is. You are destined for such great things. You have everything set out for you. A job. A whole company to yourself. Someday, a wife that will be handpicked just up to your standards. But I… don't know where I will end up and I don't plan on settling anywhere for long. I'm not made for a relationship – with anyone.
She told him the truth. He had accepted this long ago.
Or so he thought.
"You're friends with the Ootori, no?"
Mari looked up from her lab bench. A new post-doc had casually made the comment while they discussed their plans for the day, divvying up who would take which lab instrument for the morning and the afternoon.
"Acquaintances," Mari smoothly corrected without missing a beat.
"Oh," the post-doc's expression faltered from curiosity to scrutiny. "I thought he was funding your projects."
The scientist pushed up her safety glasses in question. "The Ootori group is generous with their funding to the entire department." For fuck's sake, he basically paid the entire lab's stipend and more if one really wanted to look at the books.
"People have been talking," the fellow labmate shrugged. "Said that you had something to do with it all, given your private meetings with him."
"They're project updates," Mari snapped. Her patience waned thin on the new labmate. They had started only a month ago. "It's not private. Inoue's in on them too," Mari gritted her teeth. The head of the lab sat in on the meetings when his schedule allowed for it. Though most of the time, their meetings were of no use to Inoue as he knew exactly what his students and post-docs were working on. He was a micromanager to the tee and it drove everyone up the wall – but they stayed because the grants were there and opportunities were always vast when students graduated from the top pharmacology lab of Toudai.
"Hm," the other post-doc was not entirely convinced. "You guys were classmates from that snooty school."
"Snooty school," Mari muttered. This new post-doc surely had some guts to be making these comments. "Fucking hell, is that what we're seen as?"
"Hm?"
"Yeah, that snooty school," Mari rolled her eyes. "I was on scholarship," she clarified.
"Isn't your family well-off?"
Mari blinked. Social cues really wasn't this person's strength. But then again, Mari had met many of these characters throughout her years of academia.
"Sorry, I'm new. I just hear a lot about you throughout the department," the researcher shrugged. "You're kind of like the hotshot here."
"I see," Mari took a deep breath. "What else have people said? Just out of curiosity," she added.
The new post-doc tilted their head and thought. "You are well-deserving of your accolades and that your work is spectacular. People know about your upbringing and your class; they believe your work was cut out for you, especially with your Harvard and Oxford titles seeing as your family could afford your education–"
"—Again, I was on scholarship," Mari grumbled.
"They say your grant money is probably because of your friendship with the Ootori."
"—The grant is for the entire department."
"Also that you'll probably end up working for the Ootori pharmaceutical wing so, you're not really being considered for any professorship—"
"Wait," Mari halted the new post-doc who listed off these facts robotically. "When did you hear that last one?" Mari had put in the application for the assistant professor position in the next academic year only a week ago.
The other scientist looked around to see if there was anyone else in the lab. No one really trickled in until after 9 AM. Mari and this post-doc were the only ones present at 8:30.
"No one really sees me," they admitted. "I was waiting outside of Inuoe's office for our weekly project updates and I overheard him."
Mari put down her pipette and shut her case of tips. This assay could wait until the afternoon. She had her meeting with the Ootori at 9 AM, with Inoue present if his scheduled allowed for it. Likely, it would just be Kyouya and her.
"Take the spectrometer for the day," Mari said stiffly. "I'll take my readings later tonight."
"Oh thanks," the labmate nodded in appreciation. "I didn't mean any offense." It seemed like they picked up only one social cue out of the entire conversation.
"No worries," Mari sighed as she began taking off her nitrile gloves. Her mood had already been soured for the day.
She expected his knock right on time. But he didn't. It was already 9:15. Mari checked her email to pass the time.
Sent: 8:58 AM
Cancelled: Quarterly Update with KO
No message.
Mari squinted. This was unlike him. But then again, Mari thought about Switzerland. She rudely texted him a one word response. She sighed to herself. It was her fault, but this was a professional meeting.
Well, it wasn't – if she had to be honest with herself. These quarterly updates lasted 5 minutes in terms of actual business but their meetings tended to venture into other topics. It was an informal lecture of her own science and the science that was happening across the department. Sometimes Kyouya told her what his friends were up to. Other times he told her of what was happening amongst circles of their families – rich people problems, really.
Mari picked up her phone and looked at the last text message.
Don't.
She pushed away her only friend because she was in a spiral of guilt. But he wasn't actually gone, was he?
She typed to him.
You cancelled. What happened?
"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" Fuyumi crossed her arms. She clicked the button on her brother's laptop.
"These updates are import—" he snapped back.
"Kyouya, I've watched you watch stocks rise and fall by the second instead of paying attention to a shareholder's meeting and you're telling me she's important?"
Kyouya rolled his eyes. "She's part of R&D."
"No, she doesn't work for our company – she's affiliated because you donate 40% of her grants. A sizable amount considering what the government pays. She doesn't deserve your attention," Fuyumi snapped.
His phone buzzed.
Text from Mari
He pretended not to see it so Fuyumi would not draw attention to it. Thankfully, Fuyumi began pacing around his office and was still on a rant about how there were so many more options. Or as far as options go for the rich and elite.
"Why don't you go to the event and meet her?"
Kyouya hadn't been paying attention to his sister and instead, had been re-reading Mari's report update.
"What?" he responded.
"Just meet her. She's not Japanese but she studied here for the majority of her life. Their family owns plenty of pharmaceutical plants. It would be good to conquer the Eastern markets instead of the West."
Kyouya blinked. "Who?" It still didn't register what he was meant to agree to.
Fuyumi wanted to bang her head at the wall. She spent 15 minutes trying to convince her brother to go to a luncheon to meet a pharmaceutical company heiress and all she got back was who?
The sister narrowed her eyes at him. "You know what, I'll make your assistant cancel the rest of your day. You're coming with me."
As far as luncheons went, Kyouya was always unimpressed. Finger food everywhere, everyone mingled about with nowhere he could lurk in the shadows. He quietly trailed behind Fuyumi with a scowl on his face.
"Don't look so excited, Kyouya," his sister rolled her eyes. Her prim manicured fingers grabbed a small sandwich. "You're just meeting your potential future wife. There she is, talking with another suitor."
She looked rather plain to Kyouya. Dark hair up to her shoulders that was straight with nothing special done to it. Minimal jewelry on her body, her curves silhouetted by a grey pencil skirt and a dark blazer. She too, wore glasses like him.
"Another suitor," Kyouya repeated quietly before smirking. As if anyone could compare to the Ootori. The younger brother trailed behind his sister before Fuyumi introduced her brother to the woman.
"So lovely to see you again Xinlee," her sister greeted the woman with a smile. "This is my brother, Kyouya."
"Nice to meet you," the stranger shook his hand. "You must be busy – what brings you here?"
Kyouya glanced at his sister.
"Well, my little brother needs a break every once in a while," Fuyumi laughed. Kyouya only rolled his eyes but his sister jabbed him in the ribs as if to force him to speak.
"I am indeed quite busy," Kyouya confirmed before cleared his throat. "What is it that you do?"
Fuyumi bit into her sandwich aggressively. She already told him what she did back in the office. The boy didn't even pay attention to her. She wanted to throw the lettuce into his face.
"I'm overseeing some capital venture projects with our company," Xinlee explained patiently with a smile. "I've been heading to a lot of these events trying to scope out some interesting ideas."
Kyouya nodded. "Sounds interesting," his aloof personality was usually what drew many women to him. But Xinlee turned back to the person who she spoke to before the pair approached.
The Ootori blinked before looking away on his phone out of habit.
You cancelled. What happened?
He was going to type his reply until he read her previous message.
Don't.
Mari busied herself with her daily tasks, refusing to think of what was said to her by the fellow post-doc this morning. Perhaps it was better that he did not show up – it was clear that people had misconstrued their relationship.
But that did not mean she deserved to be passed over for an Assistant Professor position. It was one of the defining reasons why she even bothered to move back to Japan – knowing that this department would have good opportunities for letting her stay in academia.
Mari sighed to herself. Maybe it was time to quit. Her thoughts were interrupted by a faint knock on the door.
"Come in."
Kyouya looked up at his phone and perched up his glasses. He turned his attention at the foreign investor. Fuyumi nearly squealed with glee when she saw the two getting along. But then watched Kyouya politely bid his farewell after a few minutes. It was entirely formal, ending with her younger brother telling the woman that he was awfully late to his next meeting.
Fuyumi ran after her little brother in the hallway to grab him by the arm.
"Don't," she seethed.
He hated that word now.
"What?" he snapped at Fuyumi, retracting his arm from her grip. "I'm not your stupid charity case in trying to have me find happiness through a romantic partner."
The sister blinked. "Kyouya, don't be silly. We don't find happiness through a partner. This is about the reputation of our family – ensuring that our business empire has a secure future. You knew that."
Right. The youngest Ootori pursed his lips at the mistake. Fuyumi was right for the first time of the day. Kyouya knew this. He was not that naïve. But how could he have forgotten?
"You wanted to go see her, right?" Fuyumi sighed. "I don't understand what makes her so fascinating. She's spent her whole life in school. She has no practical experience. She has nothing to offer you."
"What do you know about her?" He scoffed. Fuyumi had an arsenal of surface-level information about this woman that he knew far more about.
"I know that she's been seeing a therapist," she shot back.
"Yes, that is correct," the Ootori rolled his eyes.
"That doesn't bother you?"
Kyouya shook his head in disappointment at his sister. "She has been carrying a lot of grief since our teenage years. Have some sympathy, Fuyumi. You were the only person in the family who would have understood kindness more than anyone else."
Professor Inuoe walked into the post-doc's office. Quite frankly, it was a little bit of a nightmare. The stacks of textbooks that overflowed her shelves was a little terrifying. Her entire desk was covered in scientific papers, scrawls of her own notes, and raw data that had been printed from the instruments without any form of organization by any means.
It was a miracle that Mari could find anything in this office.
"Dr. Takuya," he greeted, albeit uncomfortably. Mari could tell that he hated seeing the mess of her office. She always tried to clean it before the Ootori came around, but within a few hours the papers were back on the desk and on the floor.
"Good afternoon," the woman greeted with a small smile. It was near the evening by now, but as far as she knew, 4:30 PM was still in the afternoon. Mari offered him a seat by taking the manila folder of her results off and sticking it on another pile on her desk.
Inuoe shook his head. "No worries, Mari. I don't need a seat. I was hoping to discuss with you the progress of your project as your fellowship comes to a close."
Mari nodded. "Right, yes. Of course. It has been a pleasure working with you."
"Likewise, you have been incredibly efficient in your work. Your research has great potential to be taken elsewhere."
"Elsewhere?" Mari raised an eyebrow. "I had applied for the Assistant Professorship position… I had no intent to be leaving this institution."
Her supervisor shook his head. "You are a great asset to any institution, Dr. Takuya. We just felt that the position would have been better suited to someone else for now."
"Of course," the woman pursed her lips. It helped that she knew of this news before her supervisor had come to break it to her.
"I'm sure there are plenty of opportunities for you in the industry," Inuoe pointed out. "Given your connections."
"I have none," Mari coldly corrected.
"Surely the Ootori could assist in something that would be of interest to you."
Mari took a deep breath. "I had always intended to stay in academia. I never wanted any big corporations to take ownership of my work for profit. I made that clear to you when I started this position."
Inuoe nodded in understanding. "I am more than willing to put in a good word for you for whatever you pursue next."
"Thank you," Mari mustered in the most polite tone that she could. It was the least the man could do for her at this point. "I'll wrap up the project in the next few weeks," she added.
Sunday
Do you want to grab dinner?
Wednesday
Okay, how about lunch tomorrow?
Thursday
It's Friday tomorrow! Dinner?
Friday
Please? I haven't seen you in so long, Kyouya.
Kyouya ignored these texts for the most part. Sometimes Tamaki would just show up at his office and drag him to lunch. It was one of those days where Tamaki had given up and showed up at the end of the work day.
"Kyouya!" he sang. He bypassed his secretary, as per usual. The first time he did it, the secretary was near certain that he would be fired. Turns out, the blonde was an exception to the people that were allowed in his office without an appointment.
"Uh, sir," the admin politely tapped Tamaki's shoulder. "He cancelled the entire day and hasn't been here since morning."
"All day?" he was shocked. "Where is he?!"
"I'm not sure. His sister came."
"Fuyumi? Oh." Tamaki thought hard about where the Ootori could possibly be.
He racked through his phone to find Fuyumi's number. She answered after a few rings as Tamaki stepped into the elevator to head back down to the ground floor of the building.
"Tamaki?"
"Ah hello Fuyumi-chan!" the blonde greeted happily. "Do you know where our dear Kyouya could possibly be?"
"He isn't at the office?"
"No…" Tamaki wondered where else the man could be. "Is he not home?"
The elder sister scoffed. "Why would he ever come home except to sleep?"
The blonde blinked. "That's true. Where else could he be?"
"Mari's office, maybe," Fuyumi grumbled. "Although maybe not today because he seemed grumpy about what I had said about her."
"What did you say? Mari has always been sweet since our time in Ouran. But she hated Kyouya from the start. Such a coincidence that they both ended up in Harvard," Tamaki reminisced. "They ended up being good friends. I didn't know they still kept in contact. Where's her office?"
Fuyumi stayed silent on the line for a few seconds. "Just friends?" she pried.
"Yeah," Tamaki shrugged. "They got along better after attending Harvard together."
"Oh," Fuyumi wasn't convinced.
"Mari is incredibly intelligent," Tamaki continued. "She always challenged Kyouya – it was probably refreshing to see him think about the world in other perspectives than his own. Or I mean, that's what Haruhi said. I just thought they seemed like great friends – I'm almost jealous. But nothing can come between Mommy and Daddy, right Fuyumi?"
Fuyumi had hung up. Tamaki shrugged and continued on his quest.
Where could Kyouya be?
He just wanted peace and quiet. Some things never changed since his time there.
Orchestra was always in the First Music Room from 3:30 to 5 PM. The Second Music Room was unoccupied. The Third Music Room was a ruckus. He had sat in the Second Music Room with an easel and canvas for the entire afternoon.
He hadn't thought about what he wanted to paint. His view was the glass window that reached near the ceiling with Victorian details. The grand piano was placed in front of the window, the light reflecting off of the polished ebony of the instrument.
By the time he had begun painting, the skies had turned into a gradient of warmth. The fiery orange-red hues that blended into the soft pink clouds - they looked like mounds of cotton candy flowing in the air. The painting was beautiful as it were. Kyouya left the canvas sitting there for the weekend before he began to clean up the paint and his brushes by the sink.
The sun had set and the skies were dark enough that he could no longer rely on the natural light to view the room. Light seeped through the edges of the door beyond the regular school hours. The door creaked open while Kyouya was rinsing the paint out of the brushes.
He had heard the door opening with the sound of the water going through the faucet. It must have been the custodial staff.
"Kyouya?" Tamaki stood by the door. He saw the light on and was curious to see what was inside. There was a high chance that it was just the custodial staff – but even then, Tamaki loved saying hello. "You were here the whole time?"
The Ootori looked up from the sink to see his friend confused. He finished up with the cleaning and dried his hands off.
"What does it look like, Tamaki?" he rolled his eyes. He adjusted his sleeves that had been rolled up to his elbows. His tie was loosened and untied.
"It looks like you painted something beautiful," the blonde was fascinated. He reached out with his fingers before Kyouya swatted his friend's hand away.
"Don't be an idiot," Kyouya snapped. "It's still drying."
"Oh," the blonde nodded. "Right." He stared at his friend. His raven hair was still done as it were in Ouran. His exposed forearms had grown to be more muscular than lean from what he remembered. The worry lines on his friend's face were faint, but more prominent than before. He still looked the same as ever – cold and collected, the same charm that had aged him into a man.
"What?" Kyouya grumbled. "What are you looking at?"
Tamaki shrugged. "You've aged."
"Thanks," the Ootori rolled his his eyes. He took off his tie and folded it neatly to be placed in his jacket pocket.
"Like fine wine," the blonde tried to backtrack his last statement. The Ootori was unimpressed as he put on his blazer.
"Let's get dinner," Tamaki offered. "You must be hungry."
The Ootori silently followed his friend out the door.
"I called Fuyumi first," Tamaki blabbered away about his journey in finding his friend in the afternoon. Kyouya ate his food quietly – he had been starving since the finger food luncheon that only kept him satiated for about an hour.
"And then Fuyumi hung up on me," the blonde cried out. "She told me you might have been in Mari's office but I had no idea where she worked!"
The blonde didn't think to search up Mari Takuya because he had been so occupied at figuring out where else his best friend could've been. Kyouya continued on chewing his food as he watched his best friend babble.
"I remembered that I had forgotten my papers at Ouran and needed to review those scholarship applications this weekend," his friend continued. "I had to come back quickly before they locked up the gates! When I came, I saw the light on in this room and voila! Like fate! You came to me! I came to you! Our friendship is beautiful, mon ami."
"Did you grab the applications?" Kyouya asked.
"The—" Tamaki sunk into his chair at the realization. "No… I didn't… grab… the papers…" The blonde sulked for a few minutes as he worked on his coq au vin. Kyouya only shook his head at the behaviour of his friend. Typical Tamaki to get excited over finding him and forgetting the entire purpose of his trip back to Ouran.
"How's Haruhi?" Kyouya asked. It was usually a good topic to bring Tamaki back from sulking like a child. Sure enough, Tamaki launched into a whole fifteen minutes of speaking about Haruhi's career and their upcoming wedding now that Haruhi had completed her years in Boston. Kyouya nodded occasionally, finishing his food well before the blonde did.
At the lull of their conversation, Tamaki remembered something. "Ah yes, how is Mari? Fuyumi said you might have been at her office. Do you two work together?"
"Our company is funding a project of hers," Kyouya answered with as little detail as possible.
"Oh, I didn't think she was back in Japan," the blonde only remembered her being in the UK after they had left each other in Boston. Granted, that was years ago now.
"She must be doing well for herself, no? I hope she's happier."
"Happier?" Kyouya raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, she spoke of experiencing loss to experience happiness the last time we were all together in Boston, remember? I thought about it a lot. She seemed broken and sad. I wonder if she found what she was looking for after all these years," Tamaki wondered.
Kyouya took a sip of his wine. "I'm not sure. Probably not," he answered quietly.
"Why not?"
He shrugged. "Mari is a realist."
"Like you," his friend nodded.
"She knows better than that," the Shadow King murmured. "Than to expect more out of life."
Tamaki frowned. "She was good for you."
"Why?" Kyouya took a big gulp of wine. "She's not the kind of girl to take home." He quoted her. She always reminded him that she was not right for him. And every time, he knew she was right.
The blonde tilted his head in confusion. "Did you want to take her home?"
"I don't want to go home," Kyouya grumbled.
"I don't know," Tamaki shrugged. "I think you always respected Mari."
"I do," Kyouya admitted.
"That's more than you would ever think of most people," the blonde pointed out. "Even if you two never looked at each other as a romantic prospect – I think it would be a shame for you two not to be together, even platonically. Haruhi always insisted that two were romantically linked but that isn't true! Kyouya, you would tell me about it!"
Kyouya blinked. "Yes, I would," he perched his glasses up. "She doesn't believe in marriage, either."
Tamaki looked appalled. "But… love! I love love! How could you not believe in the most beautiful thing about being human?"
"She would argue that being human is not just about a rush of serotonin you feel when you are wired to mate with someone from an evolutionary standpoint."
The blonde shook his head. "You two are two peas in a pod. But I think she would agree with me. Emotions are human. You two are both human. Aren't you tired of being you, Kyouya? Being so cold and calculated? Don't you just want to feel vulnerable?"
The Ootori raised an eyebrow. "Ootoris don't show weakness."
"This isn't the point, Kyouya," Tamaki grumbled. "I just want you to be happy."
"I'm content," he gritted through his teeth.
"That's what Mari said years ago," the blonde frowned. "Don't just be content. You are allowed to seek happiness."
Mari went for a long run to clear her head. She was literally going to be out of a job in a few weeks. This would be something that any regular person would be losing their mind over. But instead, Mari mulled over how privileged she was. She had a trust fund that kept paying out until she was 33. She had a financial portfolio that she had someone manage since she turned 19.
She just felt so guilty.
Regular people would be searching for a job frantically. She was a regular person, right? Mari was reminded that she would never really be a regular person. She was always going to be out of touch with the commoners – how she would never experience the real fear of being out of a job when she came from the riches.
Mari applied to two more professorship positions within Toudai. She wondered if it was time to move again, even though she had already settled in Japan. Back to America – where it would take her nearly a decade to get a new citizenship. Maybe she would head back to the UK – but even then, Mari thought about uprooting her life once again and maybe this time for good.
It was not the worst option. It was just a bit of a hassle having to sell her condo, dealing with the paperwork, and then going through the hoops of becoming an immigrant. She moved back to Japan just to avoid it the hassle, after all.
She would miss her friends – her childhood friends that were all on scholarship from Ouran. Some were married now and expecting children. She would miss her nephew, Kai. And her little niece. Mari had roots here – but never enough to really keep her from staying. Nothing really kept her from staying in a place for too long.
She felt like a nomad her whole life. She wandered from continent to continent with no real purpose besides another place with a lab and a pursuit of knowledge. She was not motivated by money – just the thought of making a difference, if at all. Mari had always been plagued by the guilt of her privilege.
"Mari."
Mari looked around her. She had ended back at the entrance of her office out of habit. Her regular route was just through the park, but she decided to run beyond the park and wherever her legs would take her.
"Mari."
Shit, was she hallucinating now? Mari took a deep breath to try to calm her heavy breathing. Her head was spinning. She rested her hands on her knees. Mari took a gulp of air before standing up straight. She could see better now. The figure that stood outside the entrance of her office building was familiar.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, still breathless. She wiped the sweat off her forehead with her sleeve. "You missed our meeting this morning," Mari murmured.
"Sorry," he apologized. He looked pretty tired. He didn't even have a tie on today, she noticed. His dress shirt was unbuttoned at the top. His hands were in his pockets as his back slouched against the glass wall to the lobby of the pharmaceutical department. His hair had lost a bit of its volume but he still smiled at her.
Mari remembered when he first smiled at her. She thought his mouth was twitching. But now, it seemed… normal to her. It was nice. A boyish smile, not his usual smirk that he gave when he knew he was right or above it all. His lips twitched up on both sides, where his cheeks also followed the upward motion.
Usually she would say something like, what's wrong with your face. But neither of the two were in the mood to bicker.
"What's wrong?" he asked her gently.
She felt the tears prickling the back of her eyes. "What makes you think anything is wrong?" her voice cracked. Oh goodness, she thought to herself. Keep it together, Mari.
"You don't run like that unless something is on your mind," Kyouya shrugged.
"What are you doing here?" She tried to deflect the conversation to him while trying to get a hold of herself.
"Fuyumi cancelled the meeting," he explained. "Dragged me to this luncheon and had me meet this girl."
"And?" Mari sniffled. Her tears had subsided back into the socket of her eyes but her nose had a mind of its own.
"And I left," he coolly told her. "Told her I was late for a meeting."
Mari nodded. "Yeah, you were." The scientist crossed her arms and looked away and sniffled again. Her high ponytail swung with her head. The more she looked at him, the more her stomach churned. Why did she feel this way?
"You know I forgot the purpose of meeting this girl today?" He scoffed to himself. "I forgot we only married for business transactions."
Mari's eyes faltered as she looked at him. Their eyes locked. She understood him immediately. The disappointment that he had experienced in himself – forgetting that they were not made for love, if ever.
"Then Tamaki came looking for me," Kyouya continued. "He gave me a whole lecture about love."
"Sounds like him," she quietly agreed.
"And not being just content," the Ootori continued. "And we talked about you. A lot, actually. Tamaki wondered if you had found what you were looking for all these years and whether you were happy… and then I ended up here after dinner. Because I wondered that too. But I didn't think you would show up."
"I'm not really looking," Mari murmured. "I've been wandering." She felt the warmth of her tears flood her eyes. She blinked them away. "I've dedicated my whole life to science so far. I have nothing else, Kyouya."
"And you're okay with that?"
"What else would I be?" Mari wondered. "A bad friend to you, I guess. I'm really sorry for… just being awful to you."
"You weren't awful to me," he shook his head.
"Don't deny that you don't have feelings for me, Kyouya," Mari let her tears fall. "And I don't know if I can ever reciprocate them because I'm so afraid of hurting the only person who's been around for so long. I did it before and you still came back. I don't want to ruin the only good thing left in my life. I'm sorry. I'm just… I'm so sorry," she tried her best to enunciate her words as she broke down.
Mari wiped away her tears with her sleeve. It was soaked. She felt so embarrassed. "I've had a bad day today," she explained. "But I don't… I don't need a pity party and I don't need you to save me from all the stupid rich people problems that I have and that I hate myself for," she rambled.
Kyouya watched as she looked him in the eye before she was flooded with more tears. He stood straight and stepped closer to her.
"Don't," she choked out. She stepped back from him. Her body retracted instinctively, flinching at his movement. He paused as he looked at her more closely, she was terrified. She hugged herself, crossing her arms as she widened the space between them. "You don't want to experience heartbreak – not the way I have. You lie to yourself in thinking you're healing but you're just distracting yourself from the emptiness. It's a cycle of unhappiness. I don't want you to feel what I feel. The feeling of losing someone over and over again. You don't deserve it, Kyouya. You deserve someone who… isn't me."
"Mari," he tried to get her to listen.
"There are better people out there," Mari denied. "People who don't have baggage like I do. People that have sorted out all their fucking problems. I'm just… not good enough."
"You're a good person, Mari," Kyouya whispered. "That's enough. Just because your previous relationships –"
"—What about you?" Mari pointed out. "You've never been in a real relationship."
"Well, have you?" Kyouya scoffed. She was becoming illogical and letting her feelings get in the way. "You never stay in one long enough to underst—" he stopped when he saw the droplets of water fall from her cheeks. That hurt her more than he thought.
"I loved that boy," Mari croaked. "Bryan, remember? He wanted to get married, Kyouya. He had planned where we were going to live. He wanted two kids. He had our life planned out. He was… what I thought regular people would experience and he was… so lovely to me. And you heard it all next door – listening to my conversations with him on the phone when we broke up while I was at Harvard. How dare you think I was never in a real relationship, to tell me that I hadn't experienced what you will experience while with me."
"Mari, this is illogical – what makes you think we would ever stop being together?" he raised his voice.
"Extrapolated the data," Mari shot back. "No one ever stays for long. You and I weren't together for long either - if you considered what we had a relationship. And I won't have a fucking job, so," she rolled her eyes. "My post-doc ends in two months, Kyouya. I can't stay."
"Is that why you're running?" Kyouya asked.
"I run on a daily basis," she got defensive. "I'm trying to tell you that this is a bad idea. And I thought you figured it out when you cancelled our meeting today."
"Fuyumi cancelled it," the Ootori groaned. "Why are you doing this to yourself? You deserve happiness too. You are entitled to all the good things that commoners experience."
"Like what? Love? Will love make me happy?" Mari pointed out. "We can't experience that sort of thing. We experience pre-nuptials and overbearing families. What makes you happy anyway? Profits? Mergers? Good wine? Weird nerdy games like Tetris?"
"You," Kyouya answered simply. "You make me… happy," he admitted. "You don't make me just content. You make me interested. Curious. Engaged. You excite me. You see the world… in ways I never considered. I miss it. And if friendship is all you want, that's fine with me – but you… you can't keep hurting yourself because it hurts people to see you like this too."
Mari frowned.
"You're frowning because I'm right." He didn't smirk. It would have tipped the scale to get her to fight tooth and nail to prove her point. He knew her well enough at this point to relent. He didn't like seeing her this way, either.
"Everyone has been telling me don't today," Kyouya grumbled. "Don't do this, don't do that. I can do whatever I want," he announced. He stepped closer to her and pulled Mari into his arms. She was as stiff as a log as she stood against his torso. He rested his chin on her head comfortably. She smelled like jasmine.
"I won't do anything more," he assured her. He patted her back until he felt her shoulders relax.
"Okay," she murmured. "Thanks."
"We're still friends, Mari," Kyouya reminded. "I won't ask for anything more. You are brilliant in what you do. You have a moral compass that never wavers. You'll find your way wherever you choose to be."
"You think so?" she whispered.
"Yes, I always have," he admitted. "I'm not here to fix you, Mari. You never were a damsel in distress – the Host Club tactics never worked on you and never will. If they did, I would've had you in my arms without having to fight through it all."
She laughed a little. "Sorry, I'm a piece of work."
Kyouya shrugged. "I don't mind. What we have is more than enough. I'm grateful for it."
"Me too," she sighed. Her arms wrapped around his waist – a familiar feeling of warmth filled her heart.
