Chapter 17

She paused. The alcohol was not going to be an excuse, even though the world moved at a slower pace. Time had not hit her in the same way that it was affecting the rest of the environment. Mari gingerly placed her half-full glass down on the stone ridge. She forced her brain to be logical.

"Why do you say that?" Her voice was unwavering. Her walls were built within a second. She immediately stepped back from the Ootori who only crossed his arms.

The Ootori opened his mouth to speak but huffed instead. The alcohol had gotten to him. It was a mistake. He poured more out of the bottle.

"Don't ignore the question. A few hours ago, you told me you were willing to hire me. And now? You're making me look like the kind of person who would manipulate you into giving it to me. I don't stand for this kind of shit."

This was the Mari he remembered from high school. The one that was fuming mad to her very core about everything he had embodied. This was the rage that he almost missed seeing – though now that she was a grown woman, he had to admit that he immediately regretted his words. A much quicker reaction than he would've had as a teenager.

"I know," the Ootori sighed. "I—"
"Are you actually sorry?" Mari cut him off. "Is that what you were going to say?"
"Took the words right out of my mouth," he half-joked. It actually wasn't what he wanted to say but he let her speak anyway.

The woman exhaled and crossed her arms. The Ootori stole a glance at her. Mari snatched the glass of wine and took another long gulp. She was disappointed. At whom was the question that had yet to be answered.

"I meant to say that it wasn't what I meant," Kyouya explained calmly. He spoke factually, robotic even.

Mari closed her eyes and leaned against the balcony. "I don't know what to believe anymore."

"Believe me," the Ootori offered.

She scoffed. "What did you mean?" Mari was hot-tempered as a young child. There were no second chances. But as an adult, she was fair in her judgement. She tried again. The world spun slower when she looked from the sunset to her wine glass. Her eyes drifted over to the wine bottle that was nearly finished. She closed her eyes.

Kyouya thought more carefully, allowing the alcohol to relax his mind. "I want you to know that I respect you on a professional level. The offer is on the table because I know you do good work."

"Okay," she murmured, opening her eyes. She listened intently – it was the right thing to do. It was what over a decade long friendship allowed. The dusk skies had begun glittering with the stars. The moon already began its shift into the magnificent night. Her heart told her to look at him, her brain did not. Being intoxicated was never an excuse for Mari to not listen her brain.

"I hold the power, Mari," Kyouya whispered. "Business-wise, my play is better than yours. I want you to succeed. Take the job as it is in your favour. Don't be stupid."

He spoke with logic that her mind could not deny her of. It was natural for her to retaliate in the way that she did – Kyouya held the upper hand that she did not. Her integrity was something that people had questioned over the years. She was from the rich and elite – why did she ever deserve a scholarship? Why would she ever need a stipend for research? Why did she even pursue a doctorate when she had all this money back home? She so desperately wanted to earn her place in the world.

Mari nodded. She told her heart to stop beating so fast. Was she angry or anxious?

"So what did I mean, Mari?" Kyouya pondered. "Look at me," he pressed. She fixated her eyes towards the gardens that were now a dark haze of shrubbery in the distance. Life was easier without this feeling. The inexplicable weight of something on her shoulders.

"Do I have to?" she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady.

"If you're not mad at me, then look at me," he coaxed. Kyouya took many years of learning her language. She sighed and slowly turned to face him with her arms still crossed. The world still spun. But he was steady. He did not sway like the rest of the world had. He was grounded to his beliefs, now more than ever. Mari could see it in his eyes – how much he wanted her to understand him. He almost begged silently by the way he looked into her dark orbs.

She looked so vulnerable – terrified almost. He watched as her chest moved up and down in an attempt for her to calm herself through deep breaths. Mari kept her head up high, despite all the telltale signs of her wanting to hide behind the wall she had built for herself. Goodness, he just wanted to hold her.

"You hold the power to hurt me more than I could ever to you," he softly murmured. Kyouya wanted to reach out to her, hold her hand – anything.
She shook her head. "It's too much," was all she could say.

"It is," Kyouya agreed. "You think I like knowing this?"
"I mean, at least it's not Tamaki who has the power," she looked towards the reception hall with all the wedding guests. It was her feeble attempt at changing the topic.
"I'm not gay," Kyouya gritted through his teeth.
"Do you really not remember what people said while at Ouran? At some point during my practice, Tamaki referred to you as Mommy while he was Daddy," she raised an eyebrow at her long-time friend.

"Forget it," the Ootori rolled his eyes. This was stupid. Drowning himself in alcohol for the rest of the night seemed like a better idea. He took the bottle and nearly began drinking from the spout before Mari reached for his hand in one fell swoop.

"You're supposed to share," Mari murmured. She sighed and poured him a glass, like civilized people.

"A toast," she offered. "To… vulnerability."


The newly renovated Suoh residence was exactly what Kyouya had pictured. A round table was set in their courtyard under a tent that provided some shade beneath the afternoon sun. Fountains were somewhere in the gardens. It was like a little slice of Versailles in the midst of outer Tokyo. Kyouya arrived at the place with a housewarming gift: an original Monet – the sort of sentimental thing that Tamaki would appreciate.

"Oi, we saw you out there," Kaoru smirked. Maybe it was Hikaru. One of the two. Another one of the redheads crept over to the other side of the Ootori with a big Cheshire grin.
"Out on the balcony, talking to that woman for what seemed like hours at the wedding. So, who is she?"

The Ootori sat back in his seat. "That is none of your business."
"Oh it very much is," one of the Twins insisted. "Now that Tamaki is married – how will you ever cope? We need to know that our Mommy is doing alright." It had been a few months since the wedding. Long summer days were coming to an end in the next few weeks.

"I'm doing just fine," the Shadow King rolled his eyes and took a sip of his black coffee. He burrowed his face into the screen of his phone, reading up on the news. He ignored the Twins, just like he always had. But newlywed Tamaki was just not fun for the Hitachiins.

"She looked rich," Twin One noted the Louboutins that she had worn that night.
"But minimalist," Twin Two added. He didn't spot any kind of jewelry on the woman, just wine red lipstick and studded diamond earrings that were small enough to shine if it only caught the right lighting. Long hair with the slight curl that fell so naturally to the middle of her back. Her presence exuded mystery to them. That was why they remembered her so well.

"What business does the Suoh family have with other families? She must be the daughter of someone in our circle." The Twins put their heads together. Kyouya remained tight lipped at their deduction.
"Whatever," Twin One brushed off. Twin Two continued on the thought, "So… did you guys bang or—"

Tamaki spluttered at the sudden crude change of topic when he walked in on the Twins interrogating his best friend.

"Please don't taint this brunch with your vulgar behaviour, children! This is not the time for it," Tamaki scolded. "But actually…" the Suoh was curious. "Wasn't Mari with you? You two must have caught up."
"With wine," either one of the Hitachiins added with a smirk. "Lots of it."

Kyouya sipped on his black coffee and shrugged. "Yes, we had a chat."
"Oooh, this sounds like drama," the fashion moguls were intrigued more than ever. "Is she the daughter of someone we'd know? Spill."

Haruhi came around with a fresh fruit platter with their housekeeper in the nick of time. Honey and Mori settled in their seats and began serving themselves the pancakes that were stacked. The two listened in with curiosity.

"Oi, Haruhi – what do you know about Mari?" the Twins tapped into the lawyer's base of knowledge. Haruhi glanced over at the Shadow King as if to ask for his permission before she realized that the Ootori had conditioned her to do this since she was in Ouran. Good riddance to that behaviour, she huffed.

"She went to Ouran," Haruhi casually mentioned. "Tamaki said that she had gone back to work in the lab. Isn't she working for you, Kyouya?" She popped a strawberry in her mouth and continued with her breakfast.

"Ooooh, spicy," Hikaru smirked. "Do you get to bend HR rules as the CEO? Watch out, Kyouya… the media will come after you…" He wiggled a finger at the Ootori.
"Yeah, sexual harassment is not a good brand," Kaoru reminded. "If we see your name at the end of a hashtag…"

"Oi, our Shadow King would never," Tamaki scolded.

Kyouya cut through his eggs with more vigour as he glared at Haruhi. Fix this. The woman smiled playfully. Years of living in fear had accumulated to one moment of retaliation against the Shadow King.

"Mari, Mari, Mari…" Kaoru tapped the name into his phone. "Oi, what's her last name?"
"Takuya," Haruhi chirped in. "Should be easy to find."

Hikaru made a face of disgust. "Ugh, what's all this science mumbo jumbo? What does she look like? Why are there photos of some teenager at a piano?"

"Oh that must be her," Tamaki chimed in. "She's a pianist."
"Scientist," Kyouya corrected.

The table looked at him. Of all the things he chose to clarify – he chose to correct her occupation. The Ootori carried on with his meal, eating quickly through his plate. Kyouya focused on chewing on his food and biting his tongue before he threatened them all with a lawsuit for defamation, especially at the troublesome Twins.

"Ugh, finally some useful information: she's the elder sister of Yuki Takuya," Twin 1 exclaimed. "We know Yuki! We collaborated with her and her jewelry line." Twin 2 clapped in triumph.

Honey joined in the clapping for the fun of it. "She sounds nice!"

"She is quite lovely," Tamaki agreed. "She played for our first dance, don't you all remember the pianist?" Only Mori nodded.

"Uh, not really," Twin One shrugged. "It was your wedding. Everyone was looking at the bride."
"And groom," Tamaki added with his regular dramatic flair.
"No," said Twin Two. "You were a hag in comparison to Haruhi."

An argument between the rambunctious bunch broke out before Kyouya stepped away to take a phone call. Haruhi managed to step away from the chaos to track down the Ootori, cornering him at the foyer of their new home.

"You're going to leave without saying goodbye to your friends?" the lawyer crossed her arms.
"Not after being very close to suing you idiots for defamation," he retorted. "Consider it a favour from me."

Haruhi rolled her eyes and sighed. "How is Mari?"

"Ask her yourself," Kyouya grumbled. "Why does it matter to you?"

"I'm your friend. And she's… well what is she to you? There's always been something there between you two. Nothing serious – but you guys are too old to be playing games." She didn't mince her words.

Kyouya raised an eyebrow at his old friend.

"I know you," Haruhi explained. "We all do. We see it. You're in—"
"My chauffer is here," Kyouya cut her off.

"What did you think I was going to say?" the lawyer huffed. "Is it so hard to just settle down and live a simple life instead of working all the time?"
"A simple life," he repeated with a scoff. "Don't be naïve, Haruhi."

"Fine," the lawyer gave up. "You know they're just teasing because they think you two are a good fit, right? It's natural that two look good together."

The Ootori shrugged and waved behind him as he left the premises.


Mari took her niece and nephew to the flagship Steinway store as per Emi's request. For any upper-class child, it was integral for them to begin their lessons in the classics. Or at least, that was what Emi said and what the entire Takuya clan had gone through during their childhood.

It was only Mari who really stuck with the classical music training until adulthood. Kanda stopped playing the violin after he turned 10. Yuki took ballet instead. With two kids in tow, Mari held the hand of her nephew whose hand was attached to his younger sister.

A salesperson approached Mari, uneasy about the presence of kids around a high-class facility with expensive instruments. The aunt gave a polite smile and reassured that the children were well-behaved and that any damages would easily be covered. Emi had given Mari full reigns on which piano to choose for the children. If they both require one, don't hesitate to put in the order. Emi's words played in her head.

Mari requested the showroom be left to only the customers. The salesperson stepped away into another room before the pianist plopped herself at the first piano she saw. Mari sat on a piano bench and propped up her niece on her lap.

"Play," the aunt smiled. "Anything," she urged. She turned to her nephew and asked him to do the same. Neither of them had any classical training. It was a whole showroom of two kids loudly banging on a kerfuffle of keys. Giggles ensued. Mari couldn't help but to laugh with them. The children weren't allowed to be children in the presence of most people – they were raised with mannerisms that Mari personally felt were suffocating.

The showroom door opened with a horrified salesperson and a familiar face after fifteen minutes of noise-making with the children.

"Mari! You're a mother?" the man was baffled.

The woman laughed. "Do they look like my children?"

The blonde was shaken with confusion. "They… they do look a little similar to you, no?"

"My nephew, Taika," Mari introduced. "And my niece, Yumi." The children promptly left their aunt to shake the older man's hand and bowed out of politeness. "They're Kanda's children," Mari explained. "You were so insistent on buying a piano for me, I thought it would be best that we use this appointment for the children instead." It was not easy to be able to have the entire showroom for a private session to choose a grand piano. Of course, only the Suoh would have such connections.

Tamaki blinked before smiling. "Why of course!" He swept Yumi up in his arms. "What kind of piano would this beautiful princess like?" The child giggled and took a liking to the man immediately. Mari called Taika over to sit beside her.

"Do you have one that you like?" she asked her nephew.
"They all sound the same to me," he shrugged. "Any will do."

Mari glided over the keys with her hands. "Which one speaks to you?"
The boy followed the same pattern as his aunt over the keys. He shook his head.

"Alright, next," she murmured. The two went across the entire showroom until they met Tamaki and Yumi in the middle. An hour had passed as they made music across the entire room.

"We have a winner!" Tamaki excitedly announced. Yumi nodded in agreement. Taika pressed a key in the piano of choice by the blonde. Mari immediately chuckled.

Tamaki chose a piano that was bright-sounding right off the bat. So much like him. Taika played the white keys with his one finger, already hearing the reverberation of the piano throughout the room. He understood why it was chosen.

"It speaks," Taika looked to his aunt for approval. Mari raised an eyebrow at him.
"But does it sing?" Mari softly asked. Tamaki let the professional take over the piano bench, swiftly swooping the little girl up in his arms. Yumi and Taika watched their aunt glide her fingers over the entire keyboard.

Mari began with some simple technical exercises to test the range of the piano before diving into an old concerto. The lower register was deep and soulful. The repetition feedback was decent, at least for a beginner piano – there was certainly no need for a full-blown concert piano for the children just yet. Tamaki chose a good one, indeed. Mari nodded in agreement.

That took two hours of their time before the children settled happily on their new instrument that was to be shipped home. The children waited with their aunt in the lobby for the chauffer. Tamaki watched curiously as Mari interacted with her niece and nephew. He never pegged her as someone so incredibly warm, especially with children.

Like Kyouya, Mari had always given off an aura of someone that was analytical. Calculated. Emotionally distant. It came through in her piano playing, especially in how she valued technique over expression at any point. She let the children roam free, letting them be children as much as they could. Anyone could tell the love she had for them, especially the older one. The more reserved child. She hugged them both goodbye, letting them kiss her on the cheek as they bid farewell.

As soon as the aunt finished up with the children, she turned to Tamaki and thanked him graciously.

"Not everyone can get the entire showroom for a private session," Mari smiled. "It truly is the best way to choose a piano."

"I apologize for being late," the Host was embarrassed. "We had a brunch with the rest of the club. Was this how you chose your piano when you were young?" Tamaki asked, changing the topic.

"No," Mari shrugged. "My mentor chose. She was intent on choosing a concert-sized Steinway with good depth, high repetition, and heavy keys. She even got my mother to replace the perfectly good Yamaha piano with a Steinway," Mari chuckled at the memory.

"Oh, did you prefer your Yamaha?" Tamaki was intrigued.

"I learned on the Yamaha," Mari shrugged. "But as soon as Louise realized I wasn't some kid she was going to teach and leave after a few years, she insisted on the Steinway so I could get used to what concert pianos would feel like."

"Will your niece or nephew follow in your footsteps?"

Mari chuckled. "To become a professional musician? They'll need a real grand piano, not just a baby grand. But for now, that piano will suit them just fine for their needs."

Tamaki nodded in understanding. "Do you miss it?"

"Playing professionally?" Mari shook her head. "I don't. But I didn't realize I could play for enjoyment until you showed me I could, even if it was against my will."

Tamaki mirrored her smile. "Happy to be of service, mademoiselle."
"Please don't do the Host thing on me," Mari's smile disappeared immediately with an eye roll. "I never understood it."

The host chuckled. "It's in my blood. Come on, Mari. I still haven't gotten you the piano I had promised you."


"Tamaki is something else," she told him. Mari stood over the stove to stir the pot of soup with hair tied up in a bun and her glasses over the top of her head. Mari had spent the rest of the day cleaning the home only to have the floors dirtied once again.

"What did he do?"

Mari turned around and pointed at the grand piano that was delivered to her home in the afternoon. The tuner was due to come in the next few days to make sure that the piano was well-adjusted to the high ceilings of the penthouse.

"Oh," he dumbly responded.

"What do you mean oh, like you didn't see a giant ebony piano in the middle of this condo by the windows?"

The man shrugged. "Thought it was always meant to be there."

Mari rolled her eyes. "Make yourself useful, won't you?" she snapped.
"What?" the man blinked. "What do I do?"

They spent time regularly at her place after a late afternoon run or just to hang out in general. The two settled into this routine every weekend or so. She realized that the CEO had never done anything that required regular life skills for his entire life. Cooking being one of the major skills that he lacked. Kyouya stood dumbly in front of the sink and the rice.

"Wash your hands," Mari placed the pot on simmer. "And wash the rice."
"With what?"
"With your hands, you idiot," Mari rolled her eyes.

Kyouya did as told, rinsing the rice once before Mari told him to actually get into the grains with his fingers to release the starch. The Ootori reluctantly got his hands into the rice but not before rolling up his sleeves. His fingers dug through the grainy texture more aggressively.

"Who taught you this?" he grumbled.
"The internet," she answered simply. "Don't just rub the grains, drain the water out too," Mari added.

He glared at her. The Ootori was not easily ordered around. But Mari was immune to such threats, however silent they were.

"What? We all have to work for our food." Mari was never afraid of the man's piercing eyes. "Not everyone has a private chef in their household."
"Not everyone owns a penthouse condo," Kyouya shot back.
"Which is why we make our food, Kyouya," Mari took the pot of rice from the businessman and placed it in the rice cooker. The Ootori watched her intently as she pressed a single button on the machine and let it go.

"That's it?"
"Yeah, that's how you cook rice… in a rice cooker," the woman rolled her eyes. "This is also why commoners hate rich people."

"Oh ha ha," Kyouya gritted his teeth. "I forgot how annoying you are."
"Don't worry, I didn't forget how stupid you are," she shot back but this time with a smile. She moved around him to grill the salmon on the pan with a soy marinade. "Move over, idiot."

Kyouya crossed his arms. "I could fire you, you know."
"I've read your HR policy. You don't have a reasonable clause to fire one of the only women in a lead scientist role."

He opened his mouth to retaliate.

"Tamaki told me about what you all talked about during brunch the other weekend. Don't let the prophecy of the Twins prove true," Mari warned.
"Can't be true if we aren't even sleeping together," he rolled his eyes.

"That's what you're choosing to focus on right now?" Mari turned around from the stove and nearly whacked his shoulder. "Men," she grumbled. She flipped over the fish and poured more of the marinade over the pan to turn into a glaze.

Kyouya had to admit that the food smelled delicious despite looking very simple. It was a very traditional Japanese meal, through and through. It didn't take very long for Mari to settle back in Japan, embracing the culture she had grown up in.

"Do you know how to use a knife?" Mari sighed. "Can you cut the spring onions for a garnish? Wash it first," she reminded. Mari focused on grilling the fish instead of letting the Ootori watch her every move. She was no master chef but over the years she had learned a few skills here and there – like any capable adult. It helped that she was unemployed for a good period of time to allow herself to cook more often for herself.

"Did you think I couldn't handle chopping up an onion?" the Ootori snarled.
"I'm more concerned about you losing a finger and me having to explain to your own private hospital that the Ootori CEO did not know how to chop an onion."

"What's up with you today?" Kyouya raised an eyebrow. "You're especially snarky."
Mari shrugged. "Comes out easier when I'm with you. I'll try my best to hold my tongue."
"It's alright," the CEO smirked. "I'll make sure to remember this during your performance review."

"You aren't evaluating me," Mari wasn't afraid. "You're too high up to dwell on a small fry employee."
"You're not exactly a small fry, Mari," Kyouya pointed out.

The woman shrugged. "Whatever, we both know I'm rich enough to not have to work for money."
Kyouya blinked. "You are?"

Mari filled the bowls with a heap of fluffy steaming rice before blanketing the salmon over the grains, drizzling more of the glaze to let the flavour seep. She topped the bowl off with some furikake and onions. She paired the meal with a bowl of warm seaweed soup. Kyouya salivated at the sight.

"Doesn't your trust fund end soon?" the Ootori asked unabashedly before taking a bite of the rice before him. He had to admit that it was delicious – perhaps more delicious than what the Ootori household chef had ever cooked.

"In a couple of years, yeah," Mari confirmed. "What did you think I did with the money?"
"Spend it?" Like any other rich trust fund kid would.
"Well, yeah, some of it," she admitted. "You're looking at where most of it went." Property was expensive in Tokyo, after all. "But that trust fund started paying out when I was 18. I put about 80% of it into investments."

Kyouya was in the midst of slurping his soup before his eyes grew wider in interest.

"What did you even know about investing?"
"Not much as an 18 year old," the woman shrugged. "I started by letting the bank manage the portfolio over my undergrad. Then I started slowly buying and holding on my own. I earned enough to pay for this place, at least a good portion of it."

The Ootori stared in amazement.

"What? You don't need to have a finance degree to read books and learn about the economy," the scientist rolled her eyes. "I had money. I used it responsibly to sustain myself."

"Let me see your portfolio," Kyouya demanded, there was nothing more interesting than making money and learning how other people did it. It was natural for him to ask.

"What?" Mari nearly spat out her rice. "I-isn't that kind of personal? I don't ask to see your finances."
"You can literally find how much I make each quarter, it's public knowledge," he deadpanned.

"Why do you even care? Eat your damn food," she pointed to his near empty bowl.
"There's no way you made enough to make millions to afford this place," the Ootori challenged.

Mari literally pointed at the entire penthouse condo. "We're literally in it. How much more evidence do you need?"

"There's no way," Kyouya shook his head. "What did you buy?"

Mari finished her dinner and gathered the dishes to place in the dishwasher. She put the kettle on and crossed her arms to look at the man who stared back in the same blank expression – as if he was competing against her for no reason. This was their friendship – between the bickering to the brazen level of comfort they had with each other. There was nothing like it. Never in the years of any of her friends or lovers that had lasted in the way that they did. There was something so inexplicably special about it – even spending a mediocre night in with the man made her feel like… home.

I don't know what it is between you two. It's electric. Like fire. A beautiful sort of connection that brightens the room. From the way he looks at you to the way he speaks of you… Mari, I swear I've never seen him like this with anyone but you.

Tamaki's words rung in her ears before she broke eye contact with the man. Mari walked over from the kitchen to her living area. She grabbed her tablet on the coffee table as she waited for the kettle to boil. She logged into her trading account and passed off the device to the businessman. They trusted each other – probably far too much for just friends.

"You have too much money to even bother stealing mine," Mari muttered. She went back to preparing two cups of tea. She listened to the slow simmer of the water boil into a gurgle in the kettle. Kyouya was still engrossed in the screen – she was buying herself time.

Kyouya keeps a tight seal about you. I don't mean to be invasive. I mean, I just want the same kind of happiness for Kyouya as I have for myself. Love is… it's hard. I think you already know. I can feel it. But Kyouya doesn't have a clue. I think you would be the only person who could show him what it's worth.

She poured the tea into the pot and let it seep for longer than needed. She needed time. She just needed more time to have her thoughts steep. Buying a piano with Tamaki was way more elaborate of a task than she had initially thought.

I promise you that he will not break you, Mari. Be patient with him. He will learn. He will stay. He will love you, wholeheartedly.

She poured the tea and carried the tray over to the sofa in the living room. Mari turned off the light in the kitchen and with a click of a button, turned on a mellow lamp on the reading table. She made herself comfortable beside the man, peering over the tablet by laying her head on his shoulder. Her body felt so natural against his, leaning on him for warmth his dress shirt. His forearms were still exposed from rolling up his sleeves.

"This is… impressive," Kyouya whispered. He gladly took the grey mug of green tea in his other hand. He pointed towards the graphs – all the highs and the lows. Everything green and all the reds. All the particular investment options he found interesting.

"A toast," she offered. "To… vulnerability."

They drank. She finished her glass first, cringing at the stinging feeling at the back of her throat. It made saying what she needed to say more appropriate.

"I think I hurt you when we were… kids," Mari had no other way of describing it. They were in their early twenties. Young adults with nothing but a small fraction of what they were to experience ahead of their lives. Mari went on to move across the world. He was due to take over a billion dollar industry.

"I was in the pursuit of some kind of… hedonistic lifestyle I thought I needed after losing my only long-term relationship. But I was mostly just running away of feeling hurt again and questioning whether I was ever going to find the same thing again. So whatever we had… I know I ruined it. Even though you came back, time and time again."

The whole world was still in a big blur. Everything was in a bit of a haze except for Kyouya.

"I'm older," Mari went on to explain. "I don't want to risk losing what we have. This, us, our friendship is important to me. You're important to me. I'm not in my twenties anymore and neither are you. I'm waiting for you to realize that I'm not it. I'm not what you've always wanted, who you've always needed. I'll wait until you move on."

"I can't," he chuckled. "I don't know how else to tell you this. The women are not you. They'll never be as… willful as you. They never matched up with the same kind of fire you have. Every woman just doesn't compare, Mari. I know it. We won't end up broken."

"You say that we aren't going to end up in shambles but…"

"But what?"

"You don't know that. You think you can logic and reason your way through everything but you can't foresee what will tear us apart."

"What do you think will tear us apart?"

"Me."

He went on and on about it for nearly half an hour before he had finished his tea and realized the woman had fallen into a daze on his shoulder.

"Oi, are you paying attention? I'm literally giving you advice on making you richer, Mari." He playfully poked her shoulder. He didn't even realize she had been leaning on him for so long until she moved away from him. Kyouya suddenly missed her. The slightest touch made him remember what it was like. What it could be. What they really were meant to be.

She took his mug and refilled it with the tea from the pot. She handed it to him with ease, their fingers brushing against one another. He resisted the urge to pull her back.

"I wasn't paying attention," she admitted. "I think I was doing just fine without your advice though."

Kyouya scoffed before taking another sip of the tea. It was darn good. The woman really did have good taste, likely because of her higher class upbringing. She poured herself more tea and settled onto the other end of the couch, consciously maintaining distance.

"What are you mulling over?" the Ootori rolled his eyes. "Please don't give me a speech on wealth distribution."

He shrugged and crossed his arms. "Tear us apart right now."
"N-no," Mari shook her head. "That's not what I meant."
"My point is proven. You won't tear us apart. I'll wait until you see it too. I'll wait as long as you need."

"Tamaki," Mari mumbled. "That man has a way with words, doesn't he?"

"Don't tell me you fell for his schemes of telling you you're a woman who deserves the sun and the sky," the Ootori quoted his friend from their days in Ouran. "He's a married man. You know this."

Mari rolled her eyes. "He talked about you when we were at Steinway."
"Did he tell you how great I am?" the Ootori smirked.
The woman scoffed. "Well, when you put it like that, his words become much less credible."
Kyouya shrugged. "Can't say I'm the worst."
"I can and I will," Mari wanted to strangle him for how irritable he made her. She took a sip of the tea to relax and sprawled out her legs onto the end of the couch, laying her feet on the thighs of the Ootori. He didn't seem to mind and raised an eyebrow for her to continue on with her thought. He was now intrigued.

"Isn't this fun?" Mari abruptly changed the topic. "Hanging out. Not having to think about work. Having a life?"
"Sure," he agreed.
"So why ruin it?" the scientist sighed.

"Well, now you've ruined it," Kyouya rolled his eyes. He pushed her feet off his legs and turned to face her. "What you thinking about?"

Mari sighed and rubbed her eyes. "I've been thinking about us. It's like we never stopped. It's never been awkward between us. It's always been comfortable since we reached this threshold of friendship. You and I – bickering, complaining, celebrating, laughing… it always felt right."

"Yeah, so?" the Ootori felt the same. He always had.

"There was no one else," Mari realized. In all her years abroad, she never felt the same with anyone else.
"Who?" Kyouya blinked. She was going off on a tangent that he could not follow just yet.
"No one else that understood me the way you understand me," she shook her head. "No one else I could be more authentic with."

The Ootori nodded as he reached for her arm. He pulled her closer until they sat in the middle of the couch facing each other.

"What's the end goal, anyway?" she whispered.
"Produce an heir," the Ootori answered nonchalantly. He earned himself a punch in the gut. "I was kidding," he wheezed. "Mostly."

"Like, is it marriage? Do you even want a family? What does retirement look like to you?" Mari wondered.
"No, yes, and it looks like day-trading to me," Kyouya answered.

Mari blinked. "Marriage isn't the end goal?"
"Marriage isn't a goal, it's a commitment," he corrected. "Also, having an heir is important."
"What if your child doesn't want to be an heir?" Mari pointed out. She sure as hell didn't want to be the CEO of the Takuya Corporation.
"That's why I need more than one," he shrugged. He caught her punch this time. "Relax. Your family did fine with 3 children. Heir, scientist, and whatever the hell your sister does."

"Your family pitted all four of you against one another and now you don't even speak," Mari compared their families.
"Dysfunctional families at its finest," Kyouya was unfazed.

"I don't want a family like that. I don't want my children to grow up despising their entire family," Mari sighed.
"You want kids?" the Ootori raised an eyebrow. Mari never seemed like the kind who was maternal.
"We're talking hypotheticals. You already know how I feel about the institution of marriage," the scientist scoffed.

"Hypothetically speaking, I'd marry you at your earliest convenience. With pre-nups and all. We'd have a family. A good one," the Ootori was only being logical in this scenario. "A happy one," he added. "You'll carry on with your career. We'll have help raising the kids. You can teach them not to be little brats. I can teach them how to run a business. We'll retire. We'll laugh and bicker until we die."

Mari rolled her eyes to the back of her head.

"We're going to fight about –"
"We'll fight," Kyouya agreed. "We can fight for the rest of our lives but there's no one else I'd fight but you, Mari."

She stared at him, as if trying to catch him in a lie.

"You said it yourself," he reminded. "There's no one else."
"Fine!" She threw her hands up in the air and stood up. "You win."

"What the fuck do I win?" Kyouya raised his voice to match hers, rising to her level.
"I don't know," she spat. "Add this argument to the stockpile ones that make your ego inflate."
"Can you ever be serious during a discussion about us?" he groaned.
"You're the one who started kidding about the kids," Mari shot back.

The two exhaled and calmed down.

"This is what I mean," Mari sighed. "We'll do this all the time."
Kyouya sighed with her and sat back down on the couch. He looked up at the woman and shook his head. She was in a thin pullover and cropped leggings – athleisure wear for a weekend indoors. Her loose hair fell out of her bun after a long day. She reached out to him and he gladly look her into his arms. He felt her relax under his grip.

"That's what marriage is, isn't it?"
Mari laughed. "Yeah, endless bickering, I guess."

"I still choose you," he whispered. "There's no one else I'd rather be yelling at."
"Easy there," Mari warned.
"I'm sure you get a kick out of yelling at me too," Kyouya grumbled.
"Yeah, but only when I'm right."
"Shut up," the Ootori quipped.

"Make me," Mari laughed. He missed that sound. It was like music to his ears. She challenged him half-jokingly, leaning back when he dove in to catch her lips. She watched as his eyes turned from playful to ravenous as he crawled over her body. She laid on her back as if to entice him with her eyes. Kyouya hovered over her when he came to his senses. He had exercised so much constraint over her, he didn't know if this was real anymore.

Mari gripped his shirt to pull him down to her. He remembered this feeling. It was everything above and beyond passion and excitement. It was real.

This was real.