Chapter 22

She paced around the living room, making laps around the grand piano. It was only 9 AM. The Ootori wouldn't be up for another few hours given his regular routine. He slept like a log to the point where Mari could play at full volume on the piano for hours before he would get up. Her heart was beating fast as if she had been sprinting for the past few minutes. Mari wondered if she should just pretend that she didn't see it. Put the ring back in the case and back into his jacket. The grown man can do his own dry cleaning like any adult. Then carry on with life like it hadn't happened at all. Maybe Kyouya had wanted to do it on his own terms and she had ruined it. She looked down at her hand.

It was pretty. She was fascinated with it, like a child with a new toy. She twiddled with the band, rotating it around her ring finger. It looked nice even as a thin band – no diamonds involved. She slid it off halfway onto her knuckle before pushing it back onto her finger. She couldn't quite bear to part with it. What was it that made her feel so attached? It had only been minutes.

Mari was not one for jewelry or materialistic things. She owned some pieces for the occasion, mostly from her days as a concert pianist to dress the part of a musician. The sort of jewelry that her mother bought her for those competitions because it was what her daughter needed to look like she belonged to that kind of lifestyle. Mari never bought Cartier diamonds or Swarovski necklaces – she never stepped foot into those places.

Over the years, Mari preferred the more practical things. Clothing that could be worn for many purposes, simple and timeless pieces that did not have to be replaced over and over again from their high quality. Appliances that were known to last, like her coffee machine had travelled with her across 3 continents. And of course, she indulged in books. Books that could be kept forever. Her textbooks had taken up a whole wall of her study.

Mari wondered if he had something planned. But the Ootori was not one for large romantic gestures. He hated that sort of thing. Yet the man had been talking about marriage offhandedly for nearly a year now, to the point where Mari just took it as a joke. While she knew of his genuine commitment, a part of her felt guilty for dismissing his true feelings for this long. Her thumb lined against the band, as if reminding her that it was a real. All of it was real.

She sighed. She wondered what he would have wanted. The Ootori was a prideful man. And for once, Mari didn't want to pop that giant ego of his. It was the least she could do, after many years of her evading even the thought of pursuing a relationship with him. He deserved to at least do this on his own terms after she had been the one to push for it all at the pace that she set. Would he want her to pretend she hadn't found it?

She lapped around the piano again as she weighed her options.


Kyouya woke up nearly at noon on the weekend. Enough time for Mari to do her errands: stop by the dry cleaners, pick up groceries, and even head over to the bookstore to pick up a novel that had been on her list for months. He found her putting away dishes from the dishwasher. His cup of coffee had been perfectly brewed at the right time when Mari heard him shuffle into the bathroom when he first woke.

He sauntered sleepily into their kitchen space with his sweatpants and Harvard t-shirt. He didn't have his glasses on. The first sip of coffee was the best thing you could ask for, next to a quiet embrace from his significant other from the back.

"You're awake," she murmured into his shoulder. He sipped on more of his black coffee before he turned around to look at her. She smiled softly at him, looking up at the man who sleepily mirrored her expression. He stroked the top of her head with his free hand, letting her grip his waist tightly against her own body.

"What's gotten into you?" He asked. She wasn't usually this warm or affectionate.

She shook her head and shrugged. "Nothing," Mari answered. Nothing snarky. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Coffee is fine," he answered, patting her back in appreciation. He welcomed her affection silently. Kyouya let her continue placing the dishes away as he sat by the kitchen island. His tablet had been on the counter for him to check the news, as he always did in place of a newspaper. He commented on the market and the interesting bits of info as Mari shuffled around in the kitchen, warming up some leftover soup as brunch for him, even though he only asked for coffee.

"Did you have a productive morning?" he asked because Kyouya didn't wake up to find her at the piano as she sometimes would be when she didn't leave the condo.

"Yeah," she responded offhandedly. "Did some errands. What are your plans for the day?"
Kyouya shrugged. "I think I have to go over some financial summaries today. I'll take the afternoon to do it."

Mari nodded in understanding. "Any dinner requests?"
"Coq au vin? Or duck confit?" he suggested.

The woman sighed. Just when she thought he couldn't irritate her for the day, the man manages to do so effortlessly. "Kyouya, I'm a scientist, not a French chef. Please request something more reasonable," her tone turned snappish.

"We can go out for dinner," the Ootori rolled his eyes. "You don't have to cook."

"I like cooking," Mari mumbled. "Simple things," she added. The sort of recipes that don't require more than 10 steps or preparation of the entire day. She was far from a great home cook, but she was good at following instructions as per a lab manual.

"You don't have to," he reminded. "We can go out. The weather is getting better," he told her. "You can start running outside again."

"Yeah," Mari nodded. "Okay, I'll attempt a French inspired dinner tonight. Have low expectations," she warned.

"I always do when it comes to you," he muttered, taking his bowl of soup along with him to the study before she shot something mean back at him.

Mari watched as the Ootori moved down the hall with his beloved cup of caffeine as per usual. He spent the rest of the day in his study, loudly typing away on his laptop that was connected to two large desktop monitors. Mari only poked her head into the room after an hour to take away the bowl he was finished with. She tried her best not to disturb him. He barely peeled his eyes away from the screen, only muttering a quiet thanks when she replaced his mug with a warm cup of tea. She had been trying to reel back his caffeine intake so he could sleep earlier at night.

She spent her afternoon relaxing in the living room with her own cup of tea, reading the book she had picked up earlier in the morning. Mari decided to make croque monsieur and crème brûlée for dinner. Two things that seemed simple enough to put together. The sunlight of the golden hour was the only indicator for her to stop reading for the day and to begin preparing dinner.

Mari worked to finish off the crème brûlée first, placing them into the oven in a water bath before preparing the ingredients for the croque monsieur. She measured out her ingredients with the food scale to the hundredth of a decimal, as though she were preparing her reagents in the laboratory. The flour, butter, and milk were placed aside in small clear bowls. She shredded the cheese, taking longer than she had thought she would and finished right on time to take out the ramekins to cool and to put in the fridge later.

Kyouya came out of his lair at the sound of the sizzling noise. He always enjoyed watching her cook. There was something so prescribed in the way she would move around the kitchen, from the way the ingredients were measured to how she timed everything to the tee. She was analytical about her movements – as a musician, as a scientist, and as a cook. It was fascinating to watch the way she would silently peer over to her phone and know exactly what to perform without a flaw.

Of course, the fun part was distracting her in the midst of all this. He sat on the bar stool, bringing his finished cup of tea from the study and comfortably propped his elbow up to let his chin rest. She finished the bechamel sauce and turned with a flinch to see the Ootori watching with a shit eating grin.

"You couldn't have said hello?" she snapped, annoyed at the fact that he purposefully stayed silent to have her lose her mind.

"It's more fun when you don't notice," Kyouya shrugged. Mari fished out a red wine from the wine cooler that was built into the other side of the kitchen island. With a swift turn of the corkscrew, a sudden pop, and the clinking of two glasses – Mari served the Ootori a cool glass of wine at the end of his day. She poured the red through an aerator to ensure no complaints from the Ootori about how wine should be served.

The Ootori was surprised at the gesture. "What's the occasion?"

"No occasion," she answered. Mari popped the ramekins in the fridge and began cutting the loaf of bread that sat on the island. Kyouya watched her idly, sipping on the wine slowly as he watched her work. Her hair was tied up on a high ponytail with her glasses that sat lazily atop her head. Her hair was gradually falling apart to frame her face, enough that Mari had to tuck her hair behind her ear every few minutes. She wore eyeliner today, probably because she stepped out this morning.

"What were you up to?" he asked as he watched her work quickly.

"Hm," Mari was distracted by cutting bread before answering his question. "I read that book I bought this morning." She turned to grab the butter she had measured out beforehand. She carefully split it into four sections for four pieces of bread.

"What was it about?" Kyouya continued the conversation.

"Mmm," she hummed as she tried to butter each piece as evenly as she could. "Motherhood," she responded.

"Motherhood?" he repeated. "Doesn't seem like something you'd willingly read."

"It's a few years old… had good reviews… I read another book written by the same author so," Mari was only half-paying attention to the Ootori, trying her best to focus. The Ootori didn't mind at all. It was nice seeing how she worked with such detail. He wondered if he would ever successfully ruin her cooking. Mari turned over the stove to bring over the bechamel sauce, smearing it on the other side of the bread generously.

"What else did you do this morning?" he asked offhandedly. He had forgotten if she told him already as his head was in the midst of reading the news when he first woke.

Mari assembled the sandwich, her fingers moving swiftly across the island to ensure they would be able to eat at an appropriate time. First bread, then ham, then a mound of cheese, and another slice of bread. Easy. Do it twice and she'd be nearly there.

"I bought some vegetables for a salad. Picked up some bread thinking I could make some lunches with it but used it for this instead," she answered him absentmindedly. "And the book. And then dropped off the winter coats at the dry cleaners." Mari turned over to the stove to place the sandwiches onto the now heated pan.

Kyouya blinked in realization of something. "Did you take my mine?"

Mari froze with her back turned to the Ootori. Shit. This wasn't really the plan. She wanted to tell him over dinner, not before dinner. Not when the dessert hadn't even gotten a nice caramel crust using her butane torch. Not while her sandwiches weren't even halfway through being nice and toasted. She needed to focus on cooking or else all of this would burn and ruin her plans. Mari wondered if it would be okay to just pretend she hadn't heard. After all, the fume hood was on and she needed to not burn their dinner that was sizzling on the stove.

Mari turned down the heat to avoid burning, hoping that she could pause the conversation they needed to have until after the food was done. The Ootori was gone from the seat, his wine glass half-finished.

"Kyouya?" she called out to the now empty kitchen. All she could hear was the sizzle of the toasted side of the sandwich. Mari quickly flipped over the slices of bread and waited by the stove. Alternatively, she could just turn it off to look for the man. She looked over at her kitchen island with all the prep she had done to make this dinner. No, she thought. She would finish this first before dealing with the Ootori. He'd come back eventually when he realized that his jacket wasn't in the closet.

Just as she had suspected, the Ootori came back after a few minutes and made a noise of frustration as the sandwiches had been placed into the oven to finish. They had about 2 more minutes to go. He downed the glass of wine before pouring himself another at the realization of what had happened.

"Mari," he quietly called to her. "Did the dry cleaners find anything in my jacket?"

"Hold on," she set the timer on her phone and pulled sandwiches out of the oven when they finished. The cheese was bubbling and the crust was a golden brown. Mari took out the sandwiches and plated them in front of the Ootori. They were both piping hot. She grabbed the salad she made earlier in the day from the fridge and placed a generous amount on his plate. He hadn't eaten much all day. She braced herself to see a man who was clearly upset while gulping wine. He scowled at her. She pouted at him in response.

"What's wrong?" she asked, bringing over the plate to him on his side of the island. She took a seat on the stool beside him. They were close enough that their elbows could touch as they ate.

"Nothing," he grumbled, massaging his temples. "Nothing, it's fine," he repeated as if only to himself. "Just let me know if they call back or whatever. Or actually, I'll call them."

"I took them both because I thought –" Mari tried to explain that she was going to do it for her own clothes and it only made sense to make one trip for the both of them.

"—It's fine," he cut off with a sigh. He figured it out already. "It's not important."

"It seems important if it's making you upset," she patted him on the shoulder in comfort. "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" he sighed. "It's fine."

"Is it really fine that I found this in your pocket?" She held up her left hand. Kyouya looked up from his wine glass to look at the woman who had the ring on her left hand the entire time. "I mean, maybe I was being presumptuous in assuming it was for me…" Mari grumbled. "But it is, right? I hope? I think…" she suddenly had doubts for some odd reason.

"I-it is, yeah," he confirmed with a stutter at the shock of it being on her finger so quickly. He eased her sudden doubt and pushed up his glasses. It was really on her finger. He didn't notice the entire time, too fixated on her face and her smile. Not her hands. He didn't pay attention, at least not today at the quick pace she was moving at. He wondered if she liked it. If she thought, maybe, it was too small? Not good enough? Did he pick out the right one? He had questions running through his mind.

"I… I didn't know if I should tell you, or if I should've just pretended not to see it this morning," Mari mumbled. "I was going to tell you during dinner but I was being absent-minded and distracted by cooking," she sighed. Mari poured herself a glass of wine, letting the bubbling sound of the liquid fill their kitchen. "Look, I don't know what you wanted to do with it or when you thought it would've been the right time. And I didn't want to take away from… whatever you had planned. I just…" she took a sip and looked him in the eyes.

His eyes softened at the sight of her rambling. It was alright, he told her without even having to say a word. She continued.

"I put it on," Mari whispered like it was a secret. Like something she wasn't meant to do. "And I just… I couldn't part with it. I didn't even know I had wanted such a thing!" She was flabbergasted by it all. Overwhelmed at how elated she felt when she had it on her finger.

The Ootori smiled at her. No, he beamed with joy to encourage her to continue.

"It doesn't make me change my thoughts on marriage," Mari concluded. She was too jaded to think of it as a happily ever after. The Ootori had thought just as much. Mari was not easily swayed by such materialistic things when it came to her principles. "But I think… it was the gravity of the gesture that… made me feel so loved?" She didn't even know if that word was right to use. To be loved. "Like, the amalgamation of all we had gone through symbolized in something tangible… it was like wearing a reminder of how much we had grown."

"And will grow," he softly added.

"Yes," Mari agreed. "This is not the end nor the beginning of it all," she added. "You know I spent an hour pacing around the piano today because I did not know what to do with it?"

"Well, you did the logical thing," the Ootori shrugged. "It was intended for you to wear like I always had wanted."

"I figured," Mari sighed and took a sip. "At the end of the hour around the piano – you wouldn't have been the kind of person to have planned some sort of proposal."
"What made you think that?" the Ootori sounded offended at the comment.

"Well," the scientist looked at this logically. "You hate that sort of stuff as much as I do. You aren't like Tamaki. And you, being romantic is like… a strange foreign concept."

Kyouya scoffed without retaliating. She took his silence as his surrender to the fact that she was right.

"I basically did you a favour and saved you a lot of work," Mari smirked. "I wore it all day. I thought you would call me out on it in the morning but you didn't have your glasses on. Or while I cooked but I was pacing back and forth between the counters that you probably hadn't noticed."

"I wasn't looking at your hands," the Ootori admitted. "I was looking at your face. How concentrated you were in making..." he looked down at his plate. It looked like a big pile of cheese with salad. Honestly, it wasn't a pretty meal and it was far from appetizing. "What is this?"

"It's croque monsieur," Mari answered proudly.

"It's what?" he poked it with a fork. It sounded crunchy. But it did smell good. The entire kitchen smelled like toasted butter.

"Ugh, I didn't toil away in this kitchen for two hours for you to pick at your sandwich," the woman was quick to be irritated at the Ootori's bratty behaviour. It was like scolding a child. Mari was the first to cut open her sandwich and to take a bite. she was impressed with herself. It was a rather simple meal after all - a sandwich in principle with added steps to elevate it.

The Ootori followed in suit, slowly placing the slices of bread into his mouth. It wasn't duck confit or coq au vin, but it was a hearty meal that he got through without any more complaint. The greens in the salad and the acidity of the dressing cut through the creaminess of the sandwich itself. He finished off his plate faster than Mari who lagged behind in forking her salad into her mouth.

"Mm," she chewed. "There's dessert," Mari told him. She hoped that he had more room for it.

"I don't like sweet things," Kyouya reminded.

"I don't care," Mari shot back sternly. "You'll eat it anyway." She didn't spend hours in the kitchen for nothing, after all. He was going to learn to practice gratitude, or at least learn to do things quietly without complaints. She used her free hand to tuck behind strands of her hair that had fallen in front of her face, flashing her ring unwittingly. The Ootori smiled to himself. He could get used to that. A sense of pride in seeing that she quietly let the public know that she was taken – finally.

"What?" she saw his stupid grin. Mari wondered what the man was planning in his calculative mind.

"Nothing," he shrugged. "It looks good on you," he lifted his chin slightly to point to the ring. He gently reached for her hand and brought it closer to his eyes. "The sizing is okay?"

Mari nodded. "It's a perfect fit. How did you know?" She didn't own any rings for his reference. Those were forbidden next to bracelets because they were distracting according to Louise. Nothing should be on the hands or wrists while playing the piano. Although now she might just be a little distracted by the shiny mineral.

"Your hands are thin," Kyouya commented. They had been long and lean since her days as a pianist. "I just chose the smallest size they offered. I got lucky." It was a logical decision with good odds.

"In more ways than one," Mari sneakily added with a smirk of her own.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head in amusement. Well, she was right. He clinked her glass before drinking more of the wine. Mari had half her glass left while she worked her way through the salad.

"Does this make me engaged?" she pondered. What an odd thing to say to people if or when they ever asked. She figured it would stop her colleagues from trying to introduce them to their nephews or cousins that were of marriageable age. She had been getting those requests rather often during lunchtime. Most of which she deflected by asking about their children or their spouses.

Kyouya chuckled. "Yes," he answered proudly. "You are engaged to me."

"But you didn't ask me," she picked a bone with him, as if she would ever let that man off so easily.

"I clearly didn't have a chance to since you concluded that it was yours to begin with," he pointed out without hesitation. Two could play at this game – the game that they had been playing since they had first met as teenagers.

"But would you have wanted to ask?" Mari asked softly. "I didn't know." She looked down at her plate, embarrassed that she was presumptuous over it all.

Kyouya exhaled. "I didn't know when."

"Not when you bought a 15 million yen home?" she suggested amusedly. It did sway her, she had to admit. But not because it was an expensive home or that it was grand. Those things did not impress her. The intent however, did make her swoon. The intent of planning their future together was a nice thought. Something she hadn't done with her previous partners - not because she didn't want to, but for the fact that she never had a chance to. Never quite staying in the same location for enough time to settle her roots.

"No," he shook his head. "I thought you would have taken it the wrong way. Like I was trying to convince you with materialistic things," Kyouya knew her better than that. "And I didn't want to pressure you."

Mari nodded in understanding. She certainly would have taken it the wrong way, given her hotheaded nature. How did he know her so well? The Ootori had grown immensely since their high school days. He now considered her above all else when he was a man who had put himself first for his entire life. "I've never been more in love with you than now," she informed him before sipping her wine.

"Good," he responded with a smug smirk.

"So you didn't have a plan," the scientist deduced.
"No," he confirmed. He had no clue. He just knew that it would happen someday. Maybe when she felt ready, if ever. And if she wasn't, he'd give her the ring anyway somehow. Symbolic of whatever it would mean at the time. He had no plan – and with her, he felt comfortable enough to not need one.

He saw a row of rings on a whim when he passed by a jewelry store on a business trip overseas. He jotted down the studio and browsed their website in his free time. Something about sustainable resources that caught his eye on the sign - it was likely something Mari would have appreciated. He settled on one that was internally flawless with a high clarity. With Mari's thin fingers, a diamond on the smaller end would look fine. She never wore anything that drew attention to her anyway. He liked it. He hoped she would too.

"Are you disappointed?" he couldn't quite figure out the expression on her face.
"No," she responded. "Just wondering when you would have thought a good time had been if I hadn't found it."

Kyouya shrugged. "It didn't matter. Ring or no ring. Getting married or not."

"And no heir?" Mari challenged.

"I figured we'd cross that bridge when we got there," the Ootori settled. "There was no timeline with you. I just figured it didn't matter as long as I was with you. Things would work itself out, just like it had with the ring." But he certainly hadn't expected it to happen so soon. It was his own fault, of course - not taking the ring out of his jacket. He had been so busy with the past quarter that it slipped his mind. He was careless with it.

Mari leaned back on the seat and sipped more of her wine. She was finally nearing the end of her glass.

"Didn't that terrify you?" Mari knew the Ootori was far from someone who wouldn't have at least some inkling of a plan. He was so calculated in every single thing he did in his life – from his days as a student, to an adult businessman. He never stopped analyzing his options. She was someone who guaranteed him nothing beyond maybe friendship at best. No business value to that friendship either.

The Ootori chuckled. "Emotions are always a gamble," he simply answered.

"I was a gamble?" Mari rolled her eyes before finishing off her plate.

"Getting greedy while you gamble is a dangerous precedent," Kyouya explained. "I could never be greedy with what we had – so whatever I could get, I was alright with." He erred on the conservative side when it came to gambling with a currency he was not familiar with. It was the smart thing to do. "My winnings didn't matter as long as they were winnings," he told her. "Like I said, there was no interest in getting greedy." It had hurt him once before and the Ootori never made the same mistake. Mari was someone he had to learn to understand. It took over a decade – years of trying to figure out what went on in that brain of hers, and if he was lucky, he would be correct.

"You know," she sighed. "I've been thinking a lot since you bought the development project."
"About what?" he dug deeper.

Mari pursed her lips, biting her lower one in guilt. "I've been selfish. It kind of comes with being rich and privileged," she made a snarky comment. "Though I always thought I'd be more aware of how self-centred I am."

"You aren't self-centred," Kyouya denied.

"This whole relationship began because you had waited for me to do it on my terms," Mari explained. "Everything had been about me. If and when I felt... ready to start something with you. Or, when I was the one decided that it was ready to live together. Or..."

Kyouya shook his head. "I was equally a part of those decisions too, Mari. I chose to stay and wait until you wanted to. I respected the boundaries you had set. I don't regret any moment of it."

"But you didn't have to," she sighed. "You didn't have to do any of it. To agree on my terms, and only my terms. Did I… did I rob you of the traditional things that you had wanted for yourself? You know, someone who… would have been easier. Someone you don't have to explain to people."

Kyouya blinked. He had never thought of it as such. She took his silence as an opportunity to drink.

"Mari, you hate tradition," he stated factually.

"That doesn't mean you have to hate it," Mari explained. "You were someone who liked to check off the boxes of a checklist."

He chuckled. "Mari, if it is anything I have learned about being with you – it's that ticking off those check boxes are a goddamn waste of time. If I wanted to tick off a checkbox, I'd just marry someone Fuyumi wanted me to marry years ago."

Mari refilled both their glasses as she mulled over his words. She wiggled her left hand, letting the light bounce off of the mineral. She was thinking. How beautiful she just looked while thinking – he couldn't believe it.

"I hated it," he admitted. "I used to hate how you never followed rules. How you would always skip steps in our labs," he listed an example. "How you would go ahead without telling me what you would do but still somehow end up with exactly what we needed. It drove me crazy, Mari."

"I remember," she smiled at the memory. The Ootori would call her rash and impulsive to disorganized and a wreck. Yet, the rules she would break never costed them a mark. It made him anxious beyond words and at some point, Mari only used this to get back at him for calling her all those things.

"It drove me wild because you somehow always got the right answer," Kyouya admitted. "When you looked like you couldn't care less about it all. Your paperwork was never in order. There were creases in your assignments. You'd even scrawl calculus using a pen!" He never got over that. How she'd cross out multiple incorrect answers with the pen. How she would be ballsy enough to even use red pen.

"Well we can't sweat the small things that don't matter. Besides, mistakes only make you smarter. Just like how I had been taught in piano playing. All the mistakes needed to be made to reach perfection," she said the words so simply like it had always been common sense.

"It was a painful lesson," the Ootori sighed. "But it was valuable. It made me respect you. It made me respect the process of the flaws needed to reach the pristine final product."

Mari nodded in understanding, glad that the Ootori had grown to accept the flaws in the process of perfection.

"You never robbed me of anything," Kyouya reassured. "I wanted this. I wanted to experience it, imperfections and all. If I had wanted it to be easier… it wouldn't have been the same. I never got to where I wanted to be because I fit the mold. I have you to thank for showing me that."

"Hm," she smirked. "The Ootori showing gratitude. You really are a changed man," she joked.

He nodded in agreement, swiftly clinking their glasses to that statement. They drank and smiled at each other. He wouldn't have had it any other way. He didn't have to get on one knee or plan some kind of event to sweep her off her feet. She never needed any of that anyway. Mari propped herself off the stool and slid over to the fridge to take out two ramekins. She already had the sugar measured out to pour over the top. The butane torch was lit to create a caramel crust right above the custard.

She placed the warm ramekin in front of him. Kyouya scrunched his nose, as if asking do I have to? Mari rolled her eyes and shoved a spoon in his face.

"Eat it," Mari ordered. "You wanted a French meal," she reminded.

Kyouya took the spoon and broke the caramel crust with the crack of the spoon. The sweetest part was the crust itself. The creamy custard was quite light and melted right in his mouth. He was impressed but tried his best to keep his expression neutral while pacing himself on the dessert.

"What about you?" he asked her.

"Hm?" Mari had the spoon in her mouth, relishing each bit of flavour she had in every bite.

"You seemed like someone who would never want to settle. So why?" He too, was surprised by how moved she was by the gesture.
"Not even with you, the Ootori?" she batted her eyes in irony, knowing that his name didn't mean much to her but another rich household that people knew of.

"Especially with me," he insisted.

Mari nodded, almost as if admitting defeat to her teenage self. If she had told herself that she would be with the man who was the most annoying creature she had ever met and willingly had decided to intertwine their lives for the foreseeable future, Mari would have kicked herself senseless.

"You are a changed man," she repeated with a smile. "You grew into someone whom I also learned to respect. Professionally first before emotionally. But I guess… I decided to try with you because you seemed to hold the confidence for the both of us."

"How many exes do you have?" he blurted out in curiosity.

Mari blinked. "Um, I think 3?" she did a rough calculation. 3 people in her life that she thought she could have possibly settled down with. "Why?"

"You said you didn't want me to experience the heartache you did. Did it take 3 times for you to feel like you never wanted to do it again?" He wondered. "What made it so terrible?"

Mari laughed. "It's not something you should willingly want to experience," she told him. "But it… it feels like losing a person in your life that you unwittingly formed as a part of you. You miss the good things. The intimacy. The company. The friendship. The feeling of having a teammate. The support," she listed. Mari took another bite of her dessert, wondering how else to describe what it felt like. The feelings were no longer raw and painful. Bittersweet, now that she looked back at it.

"And then you… slowly remember that you are still a whole person and that empty spot grows back with time. But it's a long time, Kyouya," she murmured. "The loneliness eats at you if you aren't distracted. The creeping thought of maybe there's something wrong with you. Or that… maybe you aren't made to be with anyone. But the emptiness hurts the most because you don't know how else to fix it except with time."

Kyouya could only nod, even though he had no idea. She spoke softly, reopening the wounds she had thought she had closed for many years now. She allowed herself to be vulnerable because he had done so with her. He reached over to her hand to give it a squeeze. It was his own quiet way of telling her he appreciated hearing it.

"There's nothing wrong with not getting married," Mari declared. "Or never being with a partner for your life. I had grown into that lifestyle. I felt satisfied with what I achieved and I figured I could live like that forever. Until you," she added. "I thought you were so naïve about the prospect of relationships having never been in one. I had always thought things would be easy for you, following in the steps of our high society."

"But I didn't want to," Kyouya pointed out. He didn't care to. Not when he already had the company in his hands.

"Right," she was well aware of that now. "But I didn't want you to experience heartache, especially if I had to be the one inflicting it on you. I had done it once before, unnecessarily."

"It goes both ways," the Ootori pointed out. "Hard conversations hurt both parties." He didn't realize it before, but perhaps Mari had taken the burden of guilt for leaving him the way that she did when he thought they were more than friends during that brief time she came back during her doctorate. She had carried that guilt for a long time before he convinced her to slowly leave it behind.

"That's true," she admitted. "Either way, I didn't want that for you. I didn't want to hurt my best friend. My only friend who understood the ins and outs of our socioeconomic standing all while being insufferable about it sometimes." The sentence instantly earned her a glare from the Ootori. He knew better by now. He learned, or rather was in the process of learning to be less pretentious about his behaviour. She had to admit that he was better now than ever before.

"It hurts," Mari reminded. "It hurts to lose someone. And you are someone I do not want to lose," she held up her hand as a reminder to him. The mineral that laid on her finger was more than just some engagement ring. "Maybe," she reminisced on her past relationships. "I never wanted to try hard enough to make a relationship work because I knew it would be difficult. But with you… it's easy."

"Easy?" Kyouya repeated.

"Well," Mari laughed. "Only if you take out the bickering. But you and I, we've worked well together ever since we were teenagers – as long as we had a common goal like good grades. But in this case…" she thought to herself. "I think the basis is just to make each other happy."

The Ootori agreed. He wanted to make her happy. He didn't know why – but he did. Somehow, it felt like his quality of life improved when she was around. The woman who made sure he got up in time for work or even when she called him out for saying something wholly insensitive as the rich and privileged. The person he would have been proud to call his significant other in the achievements she had under her belt. She was so much more than she gave herself credit for and that made her even more of a wonder to him.

"I do," he told her quietly. "I want to make you the happiest," he said it like an oath. Something he would never want to repeat in front of anyone else but her. Mari could only smile at that. She pulled him closer and kissed him tenderly, her response to keeping his promise. He chased after her lips when she was on the verge of pulling away. His hand laid securely on her waist to keep her from toppling over. He held her close, letting his embrace remind her that he wanted to be with her more than anything.

"Okay," she murmured into his chest. "Please finish the rest of your dessert."

"What if you're my dessert?" he asked slyly.

She scoffed. "Only if you clean this mess," she bartered. Mari placed a kiss on his cheek to seal the deal before scurrying off and having him change his mind.