Chapter 15

Mari saw the invitation pop up in her inbox two weeks prior. She dragged the invitation into her deleted folder without blinking an eye. A week later, her phone rang as she left the office.

"Please?" her little sister begged. "Kanda and Emi are on holiday in the Maldives. Father is too frail to go out for now and Mother only goes to events when she deems necessary."

The older sister sighed. "When is it?"

"Saturday evening," Yuki chirped. "You can meet my boyfriend, Ryu – he'll be around. I'll send you a PR package in the mail!"
"There's no need," Mari murmured. "I'll be there. I'll say hello. Do the older sister thing, right?"
"I can even send you some inspiration for what to wear in an email!"

Mari was never really in the limelight after her stint as a professional pianist had ended. High society hadn't seen Mari in any event beyond Kanda's wedding nearly a decade ago. Quite frankly, no one cared enough to even be curious about the woman. It was exactly how she had wanted it. But instead, Mari found herself putting on diamond earrings on a late afternoon before slipping into a black high-necked jumpsuit. The fabric flared at the sleeves before accentuating the waist. Mari moved around comfortably in the outfit, the pop of red of her Louboutins was a nice touch, she thought.

She was given no guest list. Nothing but the context of the event – a fundraiser for heart disease on behalf of their father. It made sense to have at least one other Takuya family member there. She dabbed perfume on her wrists and the back of her ears. Mari looked at herself in the mirror and wondered what it would have been like if this was her full-time job as a socialite.

It would have been exhausting. Yuki was the kind of person that was made to handle the spotlight. Kanda as well, considering how he was groomed to be the head of the family. Mari was just – there. Always in the background. Forgotten only until she was useful – like tonight.

Photographers were sprawled across the venue. Mari made sure to avoid them like the plague, taking note of their outfits and making sure to step behind them at all times. She picked up a glass of champagne with her manicured fingers and made her way along the counters that showcased Yuki's new perfume. A fraction of the purchases went towards the fundraiser, she read.

Mari looked around for her sister. She suspected that Yuki was swept up in the crowds, given that she was the one spearheading the event. The older sister made her way behind a pillar, looking around for any familiar faces.

There were none. Only familiar sponsors – the Takuya Estate Group was obviously one of them. Several hospitals, particularly the Ootori. Mari wondered if there were any developments between their families in recent years to have fulfilled this partnership.

A tap on her shoulder made her turn around. Yuki, of course, was the only one who could spot her sister. A group of cameras had followed the socialite around.

"You're here!" Mari could only see joy in her eyes. Something instinctual kicked in, the need to protect her little sister from knowing what else was beyond this bubble of high society. Yuki would never understand that a fundraiser would only do so much to help the world – not understanding that the problems in society were far too large for her privileged fingers to grasp.

Mari had been jaded after all these years – but Yuki, her wide smile was one that brought so much positivity and love. Mari felt like the grinch for feeling bitter about how her little sister had lived. This was all Yuki knew. All that the youngest sister had ever experienced in her life.

Her intentions were good. Sometimes, that was all that mattered. Mari was only a few inches taller than her younger sister, and the hug melt her arms away into the baby of the family.

"This is Ryu!" she excitedly introduced. "Ryu, this is my sister, Mari."
Mari shook the boy's hand and gave a small smile. "I haven't heard much of you, if I'm honest."
"Me neither," Ryu answered. "Yuki said you were a professional pianist?"
"Not anymore," Mari softly responded.

It was all she was ever going to be known for, she figured. Something about it made her feel bittersweet. All the things that she could have become, all the things that she could have been surrounded with for all these years. She achieved none of it. None of it was fulfilling to her.

"So what do you do now?" her boyfriend asked casually.

Mari glanced at him. He was dressed for the part. He was lean and tall, his hair was swept up with gel, and a charming smile that would make any girl swoon. Mari was not a girl – not anymore. Not the kind that would quiver at the thought of her past, the shell of a pianist that she left behind decades ago. The bitterness that used to make her blood broil was no longer present. Mari looked at Yuki as she ogled her boyfriend.

"I'm a scientist," Mari answered with a polite smile, ignoring the fact that her sister was enamoured by this new boy.
"Can't say I know much about science. More of a finance guy," Ryu shrugged. "It was nice meeting you." He was bored and Mari had no intent of entertaining him either. Mari bid her farewell to Yuki, congratulating her on a wonderful event.

"I'm proud of you," the older sister smiled. "This was so lovely. Your new set fragrances are wonderful."
Yuki beamed. "Thanks," she held her sister in for another hug. "It means a lot."

Mari looked at the Movado watch on her wrist. Half past 8. It only took her an hour to somehow get spotted by Yuki. It was time to leave after fulfilling her part as a good sister. Her heart felt at peace knowing that her sister was happy.

A woman tapped her on the shoulder for the second time of the night. Her long brown hair was curled to rest on her shoulders, with a beautiful dark grey dress that hugged her figure. Mari was half-expecting the woman to ask her for directions because Mari had no other purpose besides being a wallflower and maybe looking like a competent person that knew their way around the venue.

"Hello," the stranger greeted.
Mari nodded in acknowledgement, but mostly out of confusion as it was odd for anyone to be approaching her.

"You're Mari, aren't you? The middle child," the woman continued with her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"I wouldn't call myself the child anymore but," Mari gave a quiet chuckle. The kind to present a friendly demeanor, in the midst of all of the facades that were placed on everyone's faces tonight. "Yes, I'm Mari. You are…?"

"Fuyumi," the woman answered while extending her thin hand. Mari shook the hand out of politeness. "You don't come to these events very often, do you?"

Mari shook her head, "Not at all. I'm just here to support my younger sister." The scientist had never seen this woman before. Something about the name Fuyumi sounded familiar. Mari wondered if she was a family friend of sorts – but her face did not look familiar.

"That's very nice of you," Fuyumi pursed her lips. "We do business with the Takuya group," the Ootori explained, trying to fill in some of the confusion that that Mari had on her face.

"Ah," Mari nodded. "Sorry, I am unfamiliar with our family's corporate matters. I let Kanda take care of the business and Yuki takes the role of upholding our family's reputation."

"And your role?" the female Ootori smiled.

"I stay out of trouble," Mari mirrored the same polite smile that Fuyumi gave. The Ootori chuckled to herself. Mari was the one with quick wit. Fuyumi could see why Mari was good company.

"How so?" Fuyumi raised an eyebrow, testing the waters.

"Don't be seen," Mari responded without missing a beat. "Unless, someone is specifically seeking me out." Mari put her walls up and thought rationally before stepping into a trap she was not prepared for. "If you are here on business, I would refer you to my elder brother. If you are here to congratulate my lovely sister and her philanthropic efforts, I can connect you to her. But if you are here for me…" Mari trailed off. "I fail to see any reason why I would be of any use to anyone in this room."

Fuyumi smiled – the kind of familiar smile that Mari recognized in Kyouya. The one who was willing to play the same game, the amusement that sparkled in the woman's eyes.

"You are… interesting," the older Ootori mused. "A mystery."
"Is that why you're amused?" Mari kept her tone light. She was not here to make enemies, but she certainly was not here to make friends, either. Mari was reminded of who she was surrounded with and where she was in this place in time.

"I'm Kyouya's older sister," Fuyumi explained. Mari's eyes widened in understanding.
"Ah," Mari nodded. This was indeed, as Fuyumi described, as an interesting turn of events.
"I hear you two are friends," the Ootori pressed.
"I would hope he thinks so," the younger woman answered vaguely.

"He does," Fuyumi reassured. "Enough that it poses… a risk," the Ootori spoke in the kind of language only the upper-class understood.
"A risk," Mari repeated. "And what risk do I pose to the heir of the Ootori Group?"

Fuyumi's gaze turned from amusement into a stern expression. "My brother needs no distractions at this age."

Mari took a deep breath. "I understand."

"Stay out of trouble, Mari," Fuyumi reminded. The elder Ootori gently tapped Mari on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowds.


Kyouya tried to ignore the figure that sauntered into his office mid-afternoon. It was one out of the two people that would do so: Fuyumi or Tamaki. Tamaki hadn't texted to see him recently, which only left the older sister of Kyouya who crossed her arms as if she had a trump card.

"Mari," Fuyumi revisited her favourite topic without any segue. Kyouya rolled his eyes and kept his eyes on his monitor, still pretending that his sister did not exist. How many more times could he explain that they were good friends?

"She's taller than I thought she would be. Pretty in a very... modest way," the older Ootori continued. "There is no doubt that she is very intelligent though. She's quite witty."

Kyouya stared at the graph in front of him, trying his best to focus. He clicked mindlessly through the presentation that was meant to be given to the shareholders in the upcoming quarter.

"She is as sophisticated and elegant as any young woman who grew up in the higher class would be. Would not have ever pegged her to be someone who had spent so much time with commoners," Fuyumi continued.

The little brother didn't bat an eye. These were all obvious things about Mari he already knew of. Fuyumi was just a bore to him at this point.

"I met her, you idiot," Fuyumi snapped. Kyouya peeled his eyes away from the screen and turned his chair to face Fuyumi.
"What did you do?" the CEO growled.
"Nothing," Fuyumi shrugged. "I just had a chat."

Kyouya scoffed. "Our family doesn't chat with people." The only chats that their family had with others were of business intent. Mari certainly had no business with the Ootoris – it was her brother that would be the one to speak to. "What did you do?" Kyouya asked again, his voice deeper.

Fuyumi rolled her eyes. "I told her to stay out of trouble."
"Mari isn't the troublesome one, it's you," Kyouya snapped.
"Why do you defend her like that? Would she do the same for you?" Fuyumi glared at her little brother.
"It doesn't matter," he responded, looking back at his screen. "Why are you so obsessed with the woman? You basically called her mediocre at best."

Fuyumi wandered around the spacious office, overlooking the entire city of Tokyo. She sighed.

"She isn't mediocre," Fuyumi admitted. Even Fuyumi had to see that Mari was someone who was admirable, at least from a distance. "But she isn't someone who I believe is right for you."

"I never said she was right for me," Kyouya muttered. Mari had always been emotionally unavailable – that was not news to him. Somehow, he was numb to that fact after many years.

"I just think she… she's selfish," the sister explained. "She goes ahead and leaves the country for a decade, left behind a stellar career in the arts to become something of herself but – Kyouya, do you think she's made anything for herself? Her brother upkeeps the business. Her sister ensures that their family is still relevant in socialite circles. What does she really do?"

"Nothing that you'd understand," the brother shot back. "That doesn't make her selfish, Fuyumi."

"Again, why do you keep defending her? We as siblings, even though are not the heir to the corporation, still uphold our family's honour. None of us go rogue like she does. We still put our family first."

Kyouya scoffed. "Mari is far from rogue."

"Kyouya, the woman literally dropped her entire career in the performing arts to go to Harvard to study something irrelevant. She was at the pinnacle of being world-class. What else could she have—"
"—Her mentor committed suicide and Mari has been living with that burden for her entire life. Can you blame her?" Kyouya shut his laptop in annoyance.

He was met with silence from his sister who digested the information. It only took a few seconds before the elder Ootori got back on her feet.

"Kyouya, it's been at least a decade," Fuyumi stood her ground. "Whatever she does, she does it on her own with no other consideration of anybody else. Including you."

Kyouya shoved his laptop into the case and packed up his documents to leave. It was mid-afternoon and he had no meetings for the rest of the day anyway. His mood had been soured and his review of the report was due by the end of the week. He still had plenty of time to finish.

"I'm not defending her," he gritted. "I understand her."

"Do you?" Fuyumi questioned. "Do you really know what the woman is thinking? Or is she just another mystery you want to solve?"

"See yourself out," Kyouya bid his farewell. He grabbed his jacket from the rack and left his sister in her tracks.


Mari sat in her near-empty office. She accumulated so much paper over the years – mostly data that were now digitized but Mari had always liked having a paper copy to annotate things on. Mari had always preferred the old school way of things. She sat next to her shredder with a mountain of paper – some that were wrinkled, or coffee-stained, others that had piled from print-outs of studies that she had always been meaning to read but never gotten the chance to.

The whirring of the shredder left her ears numb to any other sound, including the knocking on her door late afternoon.

"Mari," his voice got buried in another round of shredding.

"Mari," he tried again. The woman was too busy emptying out the bin into a larger recycling box. He knocked on the door to get her attention during a quiet lull.

Mari turned to the door, half-expecting the janitor to come around. She had stayed so many late nights that she had become friendly with the custodial staff. It wasn't the janitor who had come to take her recycling bin away. It was him.

"Oh," the scientist blinked. "Hi. What are you doing here?"

"Did Fuyumi come see you?" Kyouya got straight to the point.

Mari put down the bins of shredded paper. She moved another mountain of sheets from a chair so Kyouya could have a seat, to which the man gladly took. He sat down with a sigh. He slouched in the seat out of fatigue. It must have been a long day, Mari thought to herself. She walked back and sat behind her desk before leaning back in her office chair.

"She didn't come see me, at least not here," Mari explained. She spent her whole day cleaning up her office and her neck was sore. Mari let down her hair and sighed. Her hair had a slight curl from being up in a bun all day. It was mesmerizing to watch until Mari pulled him away from his thoughts. "But she has a point."

"What point?" Kyouya pressed on. Fuyumi's words had bothered him enough that he came straight to her office in rush-hour traffic.
"She told me to stay out of trouble. Which I assumed meant to stay away from you. So," Mari sighed again out of fatigue. "You aren't really helping me here."

"I'm not trouble," the Ootori groaned. "And neither are you."
"I think Fuyumi is right," she softly murmured.

"Why is she right? I just spent a whole afternoon proving her wrong," Kyouya grumbled. He rested his fingers at the bridge of his nose, trying to make sense of it all.
Mari shrugged. "Your older sister is looking out for you. You can't blame her."

"For what? For meddling? It's ridiculous, Mari. I'm a grown adult. Everyone just wants to see me married. As if that's an important part of running a business right now. I can make my own decisions."

"That, you can," the scientist agreed. "But she thinks I'm… a distraction," Mari was more calm about this whole thing. If she had to be honest, the idea of it stung a little. Mari was seen as some kind of annoying fly that flew around the Ootori – useless and an absolute annoyance to everyone who needed the Ootori to fulfill their society's cookie cutter mold.

"If you're a distraction, then Fuyumi is an absolute commotion," he threw his hands up in the air. "Why does it matter that we're friends? Why can't everyone just lay off on this?"

"It's not about our friendship, Kyouya," the scientist gave a small smile. "I value what we have. I really do. But Fuyumi is right, it's about the optics."

Kyouya scoffed. "Let the world think what they want to think."

Mari chuckled to herself. "I feel like… you regressed into who I was many years ago," she spoke softly, almost reminiscent. "I hated everything about our world. The pressure of up keeping our family's reputation and legacy. The bubble of being so privileged. The entitlement of everyone and their judgements upon you – Kyouya, I learned that I can never escape this world. I admitted defeat as soon as I had stepped foot back in this homeland."

"You're telling me not to fight?" Kyouya matched her softness. He wasn't expecting her to say such a thing. He was met with the fatigue. Loneliness. "Why?"
"This is a battle I would not pick," Mari explained.

"So I should just get married to shut Fuyumi up?" Kyouya huffed.
"I'm not telling you to do anything," his friend laughed at the suggestion. He had a habit of jumping to what seemed to be the most logical conclusion. "I'm just trying to explain that people misconstrue our relationship, including your sister. It makes it difficult to uphold the values people expect, especially of someone in your position."

"Position?" he repeated in confusion.
"It's higher than mine," Mari reminded. "See, I can do these things," she pointed to the stack of papers that piled up to her neck. "Because people no longer find me relevant. But you, Kyouya – you are very much relevant."

"You are relevant," Kyouya scoffed.
"If I were relevant," Mari responded slowly. "I'd be married by now."
The Ootori blinked. "Yeah, I guess." Mari would be another tool to secure a partnership with another real estate magnate, he figured. She would be easier to marry off if people knew who she was. But no one really knew Mari, nowadays.

"And if I were relevant," Mari continued. "You and I would be married, no?"

His eyes widened at the possibility. His mind jolted at the thought. Well, it wasn't entirely far-fetched but – his thoughts were interrupted by Mari's quiet chuckle.

"I'm kidding," she rolled her eyes. "You'd be married to someone of higher calibre than me. You know that. Kyouya, that's why Fuyumi tells me to stop being a distraction. You need to meet other women, that's all she's asking – I think."

"It's not like I haven't met other women," Kyouya groaned. That's all he really did anyway. Meet women with no intent of seeing them beyond the initial meeting. "Omiais are stupid. Luncheons are dumb. Everything that Fuyumi is putting me through is silly."

"I don't doubt that," his friend responded. "But at some point..." she sighed. "At some point we all have to reach that stage. Your brothers and your sister have gone through it. My brother, Kanda, married Emi. They have two children now. Yuki will... marry whomever she chooses and whomever my mother approves of."

"And you?" he raised an eyebrow.

Mari shredded a pile of paper, letting the whirring noise seep in the silence. She took the few seconds of the shredding to give her a moment to think. Mari took a deep breath before answering.

"I told you I don't believe in marriage."
"I know," Kyouya shrugged. "But you've still had relationships, at least."
"They didn't last," Mari pointed out.
"And why not?" he pressed.

Mari looked around her office. She still had at three mountains of paper to shred. Her bookshelves were empty and filled with dust now. The photos of her nephew and niece that adorned her long desk were now at home. Her office looked so clinical now that it was emptied out. It felt like a reflection of what her heart had felt like. Emptied.

Mari continued shredding the paper, letting the buzzing noise settle as she sat back on her office chair.

"Kyouya, I could never escape, no matter how much I tried."
"Escape what?"

"How could I hide that I come from a family that owns over millions of estate across Japan? I couldn't. My partners would ask about my family and..." Mari trailed off. "You know, at some point - it just didn't seem worth it to lie, to upkeep a life that wasn't ever going to be mine. A commoner life. A simple life with someone."

"That's all?" Kyouya blinked. "As if people would stop loving you because you come from the rich?" He rolled his eyes. "Mari, that's like hitting the jackpot."

"It isn't," she snapped. "My family would never accept a commoner, Kyouya. I was naive enough to think that Bryan would fit but - my goodness. It was over a decade ago. It still makes me feel guilty. My heart aches thinking about what we could have had. I know I was young. I was caught up in all these emotions and ultimately – it hurt me more than I thought it would."

"You could've just ran away," the Ootori grumbled.
"Could I?" Mari smirked. "If only it were that easy, Kyouya. Run away and pretend I had no family. That's quite cruel to them, isn't it?"

"You did, for a while, no?"
"I tried," she admitted. "Like a nomad, I travelled across the Pacific. Then across the Atlantic. I couldn't stay, no matter how much I thought I could."

"Why did you come back then?" Kyouya sighed. "You seem unhappy, either way."
"I was unsettled overseas," Mari had a forlorn expression on her face. "I was neither American nor British. I fell in love with travelling but never a place where I could call home. I felt the freedom of being tied to nothing and nobody but..."

"You were tied to your name," Kyouya understood – in the same manner that only people in their social circles would understand. The burden that they both bore by having their last names attached to themselves. Kyouya could never run away from being an Ootori. Likewise, Mari could never run away from being a Takuya.

"My father doesn't have much time left," the woman knew it. The whole family knew it. Whether it was public knowledge was just a matter of time. "I would have been forced to come back to settle the estate at some point. And even then, I would have to face the rest of my family."

"Did you come back just to settle the estate then?" It was a valid question, after all.
"I came back to face what I had been running from all my life," Mari corrected. "Running away from privilege didn't mean it disappeared from me. I was young. I thought I was being rebellious. But I was naive, Kyouya."

Mari grabbed another bunch of papers, smoothening out the crumpled edges before feeding it through the machine once again. A few minutes had passed before Kyouya had taken in all his surroundings.

"What is all this?" Kyouya glared at the mess.
"Data, mostly," Mari answered simply.
"Why?"

"I have to vacate this office in two days," she responded. "I don't have a job, remember?"
"What?" He blinked.

"I told you this a few weeks ago," Mari rolled her eyes. "When you showed up after I had run from my house to my office. I was very upset that day," she stated factually. Kyouya was suddenly transported to that night where he held her in his arms. It felt so natural. He quickly pulled himself out of his own thoughts. He needed his rationale back.

"What are you going to do?" Kyouya couldn't imagine not having a job. Though granted, he very much had a job as soon as he graduated. It was a rite of passage being part of the family business.

"Um," Mari let the shredder take over the speaking. "I... applied to another professorship position in another department."
"And?" Kyouya pressed on. Mari could tell he was coming from a place of concern, not judgement. She let him ask the questions he had been dying to ask otherwise.
"And... I've been forced to look at some industry positions," Mari let out a sigh. "It's not ideal but–"

"–You can work for us," Kyouya offered.
"No," Mari flatly denied. "I am grateful for your offer but I cannot rely on my connection to you for a job."
"You are more than qualified, Mari," Kyouya pointed out.
"This is nepotism, Kyouya," Mari shot back. He already knew from the look in her eyes that she would never take the offer. So he tried a different approach.

"It's how I got my job," he shot back.

There was a split second of silence before they locked eyes and two chuckled.

"It's funny because it's true," Mari smiled. "Hey, you're getting better at this joke thing, hm?"
"I'm learning," he smiled back. The boyish smile that Mari had gotten so used to seeing during her days in Harvard. It was a good look for him, she thought to herself. Mari wondered how often others saw him the way she did.

The Kyouya that was horrendous at emotional intelligence, but was somehow getting better at it than what she remembered. The caring man who hid behind the mask of indifference instead of the cold and calculating CEO. The boy she had abhorred to the man she had grown to enjoy the company of, if only platonically. Mari stuffed another bunch of sheets into the shredder.

"So why is Fuyumi a commotion?" she turned the question to him.

"She called you selfish," he rolled his eyes. "Someone who wouldn't do the same for what I would do for you."
"I can't really offer you a job," Mari reminded. It garnered a quiet chuckle from the Ootori.

"She thinks I defend you for far too much than you are worth."
"Well," Mari shrugged. "She isn't wrong. I did run away for a long time. I cared very little for my family's reputation because I knew I wasn't harming it but I surely wasn't advancing it either. I did things for myself and nobody else because I was allowed to. I lived on my own terms and I still do. I'm selfish," Mari concluded.

"I'm selfish too," Kyouya rolled his eyes. "You think the job of being the heir was just handed to me?"
"Yeah," Mari admitted, half-jokingly. "I really did, at some point."

Kyouya huffed and rolled his eyes. At this point he knew that was a joke - after many years of their friendship.

"I'm just saying – I know how the optics are," the scientist smirked.
"And... you don't care," Kyouya realized.

"Sometimes I do," the woman admitted. "I won't lie - I felt like I didn't get the original professorship position because of you." If the two were on the page of sharing feelings this evening, there was no reason why Mari would hold back on this.

"What do you mean?"

Mari pursed her lips. "People think I'll just end up working for you because we're close. It doesn't take a genius to understand that we work well together - we've worked together since Ouran. Like I said, the optics aren't ideal."

"Is that why you won't take the job I'm offering you?"

The scientist crossed her arms. "I care little about my reputation as a socialite because I'm hardly one of them, but when it comes to my academic career, I care a lot. I worked hard to get here, Kyouya. I clearly still have a lot to prove."

The Ootori nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry," his tone serious. "I did not realize the impact of our meetings that would have on your reputation here."

Mari let the words ring in her ears. Something in her chest felt like it had unknotted. A wave of relief that washed over her shoulders. An ache that had been released after a long time. She didn't realize that that was all she needed from him.

"You know, it's very odd hearing you apologize."
"Was it a good one?" he quickly retorted.
"Yeah," Mari smiled. "It was very genuine for a robot."
"Thanks," he smirked. Mari was used to that look on him.

She let another pile of papers shred before handing the bin over to the Ootori to empty. It felt so natural to be working alongside him. They were always efficient with each other, knowing exactly what the other needed at the right time.

"I won't say your sister is wrong," Mari went back to the topic at hand.

"I will," Kyouya grumbled. "She's wrong about you. You aren't selfish, Mari. You're strong-willed. Your moral compass has always defined your actions."

"Thank you," she softly responded. "People don't see it, but I know you take a lot of effort in making healthcare more accessible. You're one of the good ones out there," Mari admitted. "I read your public health report in partnership with the government in the last quarter. It was really good, Kyouya."

The woman fished out of a document from her pile and handed him the report that she had read over and over again. She had annotated her thoughts. Kyouya remembered pouring long nights over this a few months ago.

"I'll admit, I was about to shred it a few seconds ago," she chortled. "But you can have it. It was a lot of hard work, I'm sure."

Kyouya noticed the coffee stains on the cover page and glared.

Mari shrugged. "Take it or shred it, Kyouya."

He took it and quietly put it in his laptop case before emptying out another trash bin full of shreds into a larger garbage bag. This really wasn't how he had planned his Wednesday evening to be going.

"Our world places families first," Mari reminded. "Fuyumi is right that I don't put my family in a place of priority. That isn't something I would find to be particularly good about me."
"Well, neither do I," Kyouya agreed. "They weren't really family. Just business partners."
"What about Fuyumi?" Mari reminded. "She's still your sister."
"The closest thing to a sister, fine," he waved off. "But you and I both grew up similarly. Neglected until needed."

Mari sighed before nodding at the truth. "Wow, is that why we're fucked up?" she half-joked. "You became a robot. I became an emotionally unavailable scientist."
"That's basically a robot, Mari," Kyouya pointed out.

"Two peas in a pod," she shot back before grabbing another pile of data to shred. Kyouya let the buzzing of the shredder nullify his thoughts in the background, tying up another garbage bag of shredded paper. He had rolled up his sleeves by now and loosened his tie.

"I understand you," he said.
"Hm?" Mari looked up from her old data, coming back from a nostalgic train of thought.

"Fuyumi thinks I don't understand you."

Mari blinked. "You understand me because I tell you things I should be telling a therapist," she scoffed. "But yes, you do. You understand me because we grew up in the same social circle: the rich and the elite. You understand me because you knew me before I became who I am today."

Kyouya nodded. "Likewise. You understand me."
"Well," the scientist rolled her eyes. "That's the basis of a good friendship, no?"
"Right," he agreed. "Fuyumi has no idea what she's talking about."

Mari put her papers down and narrowed her eyes.

"What else is there?" the woman could tell that the man had been itching about something at the back of his mind. He wasn't entirely done yet.

"She said that you wouldn't do the same for me. I don't know why that bothered me," Kyouya grumbled.

Mari shredded more papers to have herself think about the statement. Kyouya went back into organizing her mountains until there was only a pile left. After an hour, they had shredded and cleaned up the rest of her office. Mari could leave the entire place behind for the next post-doc that would come along.

"I'm selfish in a lot of ways," Mari admitted. "I know I'm not really emotionally available, either. Fuyumi could spot that from a mile away. I'm pretty much everything you would want to avoid in someone you'd want for a long term partner but - quite frankly, I'm just not ready. "

"Ready for what?" he asked.

"More heartache," the woman admitted. "Sometimes you get caught up in the fantasy of settling down and it still hurts when you know it won't happen. So... I think I'm just settling into finding happiness - not in anyone else but myself, you know?"

Kyouya nodded. "I understand."

"Yeah, tell Fuyumi that," Mari smiled. "But for the record: I would do the same for you."