Chapter 28

They were used to disagreements. From their explosive teenage years, to their undeveloped emotional years of undergrad, to their learning curve of adjusting to live and become one together. They were fully grown adults with hardheaded habits that were still abrasive with one another on their bad days. Both worked long hours at their jobs, silently shouldering their respective burdens in their professional life. It didn't help that they worked for the same company such that the talk of work often spilled into their discussions over dinner. Ironically, it was never really their work that they argued over.

"Why are you being emotional over this?" he raised his voice, obviously not amused.
"Emotional?" Mari grunted out of frustration. "I'm not the one yelling. You're the one being unreasonable."

"Unreasonable?" Kyouya repeated. "How could you think I'm the one being unreasonable over something so arbitrary?"
"Choosing a date to wed is just arbitrary now?" Mari shot back. "For someone who wanted to do this more than I did – you sure seem pretty blasé about it." She rolled her eyes in annoyance, putting away the dishes from the dishwasher for a new load after their dinner had completed.

"Since when is your birthday a terrible date to wed?" the Ootori scoffed watching her from the other side of the marble island. He sat in his usual stool as he always had to watch her clean up and only helping on the occasion when he noticed her looking more tired than usual. "It'll make it easier for the both of us to remember." It made clear logical sense to him. You hit two birds with one stone.

"As if we're the type to even celebrate anniversaries," she grumbled with narrowed eyes. Neither of them knew when their anniversary was nor did they ever bother to pick a date. They had no time for such things. Determining a date to register their marriage became more of a hassle than either of them thought. It was a simple task: filling out the paperwork and dropping it off at the government office. No ceremony required. The Ootori proposed the day that she turned 33, the date of which her trust fund would stop paying out.

"What's wrong with using your birthday?" Kyouya asked blatantly, obviously unclear on why the date made the woman so unsufferable.

"I told you it makes me uncomfortable!" Mari exclaimed. "My birthday has to be the date in which I'm consistently reminded that I married for money. From one fund to the next!
"Okay, fine, the day after then," the Ootori offered as another solution.

The fiancée hurled a dishrag at his face within a second of his suggestion, hitting him square in the nose. Mari began loading the dishwasher angrily, plates crashing against the racks that barely held everything together.

"Then you pick a day!" Kyouya threw his hands up in frustration after hurling the rag back at her. The woman was quick to catch the cloth and placed it behind her as collateral for another chance to whip it at him in case the man said something ridiculous again.

"I can't just pick a day!" Mari shot back. "Isn't this something we're supposed to pick together?"
"Well you surely hate the days I seem to pick," the Ootori huffed.
"For obvious reasons," she argued.

"Why is it so hard to marry you?" Kyouya yelled angrily while hopping off the bar stool. "This is a simple task! You're complicating it to waste our time. Do you even want to get married?"

"Since when is our marriage just arbitrary to you?" she quoted him. She slammed the door of the dishwasher and let the cycle run. She walked away from him and went into their study. She was too angry to speak to him over the matter and decided to bury herself in the slides of data that never seemed to end. Mari typed away furiously on her keyboard on the summary report that was due in a few weeks.

The Ootori joined her in their joint study and sat in his office chair with a loud thud. He turned on the desk lamp and angrily read through the stack of reports that was sent to him over the past week. The two burrowed themselves in their respective corners, refusing to look at each other for the rest of the night. Neither of the two paid attention to the time – exhausting themselves past midnight despite having to be at work in the morning.

"Shit," she muttered when she glanced at the corner of her monitor. Mari needed to get up within 6 hours. She quickly saved her work and slammed the lid of her laptop down before leaning against her office chair. Her mind was still reeling at their argument earlier in the night and refused to let her sleep. Work was a good distraction from it all. She ignored the other being in the room and dragged her feet towards the kitchen.

The dishwasher had long finished its cycle and was dried enough for her to put away all the flatware that had accumulated. Her eyes wandered towards the kettle that sat on her countertop. It would have been a better idea to just relax with a cup of herbal tea and to take it easy before settling into bed. She could already feel the dread of her body pulling herself awake to catch the morning train. But instead, her hands found themselves opening the door to their wine cooler settled near the ground. Alcohol would do the same thing as tea – only more bittersweet. Mari plopped herself down against the cool marble tile – too tired to get up from the floor but her mind was too awake to give her a break.

Kyouya called it quits shortly after she did, equally unaware of how late it had gotten as he annotated the reports with his comments. He only heard her swear under her breath to bring him out of his trance of work. He sent out the emails before closing the lid of his laptop, readying himself to dive into a comfortable bed to cocoon in. When he arrived, the bed was empty – emptier when she was not even in the room. He peered over into the guest bedroom – now untouched unless her nephew came around. He followed the filtered light from the kitchen to find Mari sitting on the floor in her pyjamas, covered by a thin cardigan while her bare legs laid against the cool tile. She swirled the dark red liquid in her glass with a blank look staring into the pool of red – not even noticing his presence.

Kyouya sighed and crouched down to join her on the cool marble floor. He sat against the cabinets across from her and silently invited himself to a glass of his own wine. It was much needed after hours of focus. They both needed a break after all. She preferred sweet wines from the Duoro River. He preferred the rich reds from France – in part of the influence of his best friend. Mari was not usually a wine drinker though she would dabble in it on the occasion.

On this occasion, she was clearly upset to which the Ootori only sighed at. He didn't like this gnawing feeling in his chest – knowing that he had caused her to become this way. They argued often and likely on a daily basis – not that anyone had been keeping count. Most of their arguments were easily glazed over as they had gotten used to each other's antics over the years, often agreeing to disagree before moving onwards. Tonight was an unusual occurrence: an argument that had yet to be resolved. He poured himself the rest of the wine after taking note of her already-full glass. He wondered how many glasses she had gone through while on the ground of her kitchen.

"11th of August," she read off the label of the wine bottle in the British accent they both were most comfortable speaking in thanks to their Ouran upbringing. "Grapes from an early harvest with a smooth blend of vintage wines aged in oak with notes of plums and blackberries." She sipped on her glass and turned to Kyouya with a raised eyebrow. "What do you think?" she reverted to their native tongue with ease.

"It's good," he cleared his throat after an initial sip. The wine smelled sweeter than he liked but nonetheless, it was still good wine. Worth upwards of a hundred dollars at a minimum, as were the rest of their wine collection.

"I meant the 11th of August," Mari clarified with a soft sigh.
"You're setting the date based on a bottle of wine?" Kyouya narrowed his eyes.
She shrugged. "You said it was arbitrary."
The Ootori huffed in response. "You're getting back at me." He took her words of surrender as an attack, while she took his suggestion as a means of appeasement. The two went in circles with how they communicated. They were brilliant people in their own respective ways but not in conflict resolution and especially with each other.

"I'm not," Mari responded without hesitation. The two had gotten back to where they had started earlier in the evening. "You said it was arbitrary so I'm giving you an arbitrary date."

"That's until next year," Kyouya pointed out. At this point it sounded more like an excuse and they both knew it.
"If you're asking me to choose then I'm choosing this date," Mari made her decision and took a large gulp of wine, wincing at the acidity that lingered on her tongue. The sweetness took its time to arrive on her lips.
"You really want the 11th of August?" he raised an eyebrow at her. "A date with zero significance," he reminded.

"Well," Mari stared into her wine glass before glancing at him. In fairness, the wine was good. Strong with the taste of alcohol and bitter at first before the sweet notes arrived on your lips after a few seconds. It made you crave more. It truly was a wine to be celebrated. "We're making it significant, aren't we?"
"You're doing this out of spite," Kyouya argued.

"There is nothing spiteful about choosing a date with no significance – that is literally the definition of arbitrary, Kyouya," the scientist reasoned. "My birthday is not arbitrary," Mari gave an example. "Your birthday is not arbitrary," she continued. "It's not that I don't want marriage, Kyouya. If it is anyone I would do it with, it is unfortunately you."

"Unfortunately?" he repeated with a scoff. It was his turn to take a sip of the wine she cracked open so he could bite his tongue from making another comment. Even after all these hours of taking a break from one another, they were quick to be at each other's throats. Only now, over the years, they learned to refrain from riling each other up on purpose – at least during the most heated arguments.

"Well, maybe unfortunate for you," Mari corrected. "And me," she added quietly when she remembered how infuriating he could be, especially over the course of the night. "But I don't want my marriage to be clouded with my birthday and the termination of a trust fund that I had always been ashamed of." She had been trying to tell him this all night and goodness, she wondered when he would finally understand.

Kyouya sighed. "You aren't marrying for money," he knew that. He had been trying to tell her this all night. Mari had enough of it to survive comfortable for many years, especially after he had seen her trading portfolio. "I never associated your birthday with such matters." And never would. It was just a logical point in time to marry – given that she could cash out all her funds. Truly, it was more of a practical choice than anything.

"It sure feels like it when you're adamant on marrying on my birthday," the fiancée frowned. "Why can't we marry on your birthday?"
"We could," Kyouya blinked in realization. "Actually, yes, that would work better," he pushed up his glasses in approval. "We wouldn't have to wait until August of next year as per the stupid wine harvest," the Ootori rolled his eyes.

"Happy birthday – you've gained a wife," Mari congratulated with sarcasm. "Are you sure that's what you want?" she raised her eyebrow.
"Wouldn't want it any other way, dear," he responded in the same sarcastic tone. Mari gave him a look with her eyebrows furrowed, the kind that disapproved of his joke and asked with her eyes if he really wanted it. Mari had suggested it on a whim, an example of sorts, not as an actual proposal.

"It would be the greatest gift," he smirked, fully knowing that a comment like that would make her groan at his hosting ways. Sure enough, the woman rolled her eyes again and took a sip of her wine in response, refusing to acknowledge such a remark.

He shifted himself so that he sat beside her instead of resting his back against the cabinets of the island across from her. She naturally curled against him, resting her head against his shoulder while his arm relaxed around her body. One hand held their glass, the other held each other's. They were used to this position, usually from sitting on the couch together as they watched the news as per the Ootori's suggestion or a movie that Mari would pick. Kyouya buried his nose in the nest of soft hair that smelled like jasmine. They were apart for only a few hours but it felt like an entire day.

"It's getting more tiring to fight with you," Mari admitted quietly when she suddenly felt the weight off her shoulders after finding her way back in his arms. She missed him more than she liked to admit.
"It isn't like you to admit defeat," the Ootori raised an eyebrow at her confession.
"There was no defeat," she quickly retorted back. It was a truce, if anything. "But if we're going to keep fighting like that for the rest of our lives…" Mari trailed off. She was afraid that one of these days, the Ootori would call it quits after having enough.

"We'll fight," Kyouya agreed. He had always known that they were bound to argue – it was impossible to avoid. It was a fact neither of them could deny. "That's more than half of our relationship, Mari. We've fought since we first met as teenagers. But there is no one else we could possibly fight with and somehow find our way back like this," he pointed out. They were sitting on her kitchen floor with glasses of wine past midnight. They had their bad moments. They had their good moments – more often now than the bad ones. She curled up against him so naturally like she had always belonged with him.

"There is no one else I would rather find my way back to than you – I never could. We had never been perfect and we never will."
"But you had always strived for perfection," Mari quietly reminded.

"You did too," Kyouya smiled to himself. He knew how hard she worked as a musician and later, as a student. By the end of their years at Ouran, Mari had been getting perfect scores across all their assessments. The woman was an academic for goodness sake, she was incredibly intelligent. She chose not to acknowledge the accolades she had achieved, shying away from attention. "You always had the capability of perfection – you just never cared for it."

"How?" Mari turned to him in curiosity. She had never thought of herself in that way. She did care, maybe to a maniac degree when it came to the science she performed for the greater part of the decade and the career she built off of it.

Kyouya took a sip of his wine – now sweeter than before. "You cared about the right things, the bigger picture. I cared about the minute details that added up to something even greater. You showed me other perspectives to what I thought was the only way to achieve success."

"And what is success to you?" Mari looked at him with her gaze softened. She wished he could see the way he looked in her eyes. Underneath the exterior of the businessman who ruled an empire was just the man she grew to fall in love with, including all his flaws. His soft raven hair had fallen from a long day of work, his shoulders tired from upholding Ootori Corporation daily, but his eyes crinkled at the sight of her looking up at him with such curiosity. He still looked the same but he looked at her differently – he was so fond of her, he couldn't have hid it even if he tried – not even from her. She kissed him sweetly on the cheek, coaxing him to respond.

"What is it to you?" he reflected the question back to her. His pillars of success were obvious: inheriting the corporation and expanding the business across the globe. There was much work to be done and he enjoyed every moment of it. But without her, his life was the company. With her, his life was his own to determine and live, beyond the confines of the corporation. He appreciated the thought of the freedom he assumed he never had. Mari shrugged.

"When I was younger, I wanted to change the world. I really did," she whispered to herself. "You grow out of that innocence as an adult when most of your efforts are futile. But I really thought I could do something good," she sighed. "But it's you who is doing good," Mari smiled at him. "Because you use your immense power to do good with you know, a side of profit," she added. Profits were important to keep any company afloat but the Ootori had grown to look past the profit margins and at the larger scale of the impact of his company. He smiled back at her – perhaps she was one of the only people who knew of his true intent and appreciated him immensely for it. To have a partner to see you for all of you – in all the good and the bad was something he had grown to love her for.

"I never looked to succeed," Mari continued. "I was the middle child. No one expected anything of me. Success was not something I learned to define. I was lucky to grow into a position where I could choose what I wanted to do without many obstacles in the way, maybe just the occasional frown from the old socialite families – hardly an obstacle when you're overseas. But being with you…" she trailed off. "You always strived to be better or rather, the best at everything. In many ways, you influenced me in the same fashion, quietly being the best at what I could do just like Louise had pushed me to." Mari drank the rest of her wine and placed the glass back down to the ground. She leaned into him again, basking in the warmth from the alcohol and from his chest. He smelled like his cologne still, even though he had changed into his pyjamas too. "I think that's what makes us so good for each other. We bring out the best and occasionally, the worst of each other. But I want this," she reminded him. "I want us to last. You're my best friend."

"It will," Kyouya assured her. "It always has been," he rubbed her shoulder in comfort. "We're sitting here after a long night and we're fine. We can't be perfect all the time."

"The world will," Mari reminded. Everyone was perfect, at least by appearance. "And you know I'm far from it."

"Of course not," he smirked. "It's me who is perfect. I'm attractive, rich, and—" she elbowed him in the stomach before he could finish. He should have seen it coming after all this time, even though he had intended it as a joke. Clearly, Mari did not find his ego funny – she never had.

"We were having a moment," she groaned. His quiet chuckle resonated in their empty condo. It was a comforting sound, one that she grew to miss and love while he was away. She wondered if she had been the only one to hear it as often as she had. She did her best to relish in the secret of hearing his laughter more than anyone else in the world.

"Call in sick tomorrow," he suggested when he noticed her tired eyes. Maybe she was tired from fighting after all. "It's far too late for you to get up early for the day." He finished off the wine in his glass.
"Only if you do the same," Mari challenged, expecting the man to refuse. The scientist had to admit that there was nothing entirely pressing for the day tomorrow. There was a bit of downtime with her project winding down.

"Sure," the Ootori shrugged. "I only have one meeting in the afternoon. Documentation has been taken care of as of an hour ago. I can work from home easily."

Mari frowned. "But what will I do?"

Kyouya smirked back at her. "Just sleep in a little. Relax," he suggested. "You've been working all night. As your boss, I'll let you take some hours off tomorrow."

"I don't need your permission," Mari huffed. "I'll send an email tomorrow morning to the platform director, my direct superior," she told him.

"Don't forget to cc me on the email," the CEO grinned to himself.

"Shut up," she retorted before cracking a smile.


He swore he could stay like this forever. He laid on his side, his hand below the pillow to support his head as he watched her sleep. He rarely ever woke up before her. Mari would wake at the first sound of her alarm, turning it off immediately so as to not wake him – even though she fully knew the man slept like a log. He had turned off her alarm last night knowing that she would get up despite promising that she would stay. He could not force her to stay and he never had. But just this once, he hoped that he could keep her for a few moments before dawn. He didn't know what woke him. Just a natural volition that pried his eyes open when he realized that she was still in bed – her warmth that sprawled over to his side of the bed as she tucked herself in fetal position to face him.

She aged so gracefully, he thought to himself. She was older. Grown. She was not the teenager he met, nor the student he fell in love with. He wished she could see herself from his point of view. He wondered if she saw him in the same way – he doubted it. Not in the way he grew so fond of her. He reached to comb her hair with his fingers, those silky long weaves glided smoothly between the digits that he couldn't help but to pull her head closer to him. She stirred at the movement but found herself comfortably beneath his chin, her cheek against the soft cotton of his shirt. Mari was half-asleep and could hardly bring the strength to open her eyes.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice raspy. He knew he didn't say it enough, not out loud anyway. Kyouya wasn't sure why now of all times. Perhaps it was a moment where he felt the most comfortable, the most vulnerable. It felt right.

"Mm," she made a noise of affirmation. Her voice rumbled against his chest as she rubbed her forehead against him, refusing to wake. He smiled to himself.

"You heard me?" he asked quietly.

"No," Mari responded in a daze. "Dreaming," she mumbled against his shirt. "Probably." Her body felt so heavy against the mattress, her eyes refusing to open to filter the light through the thin skin of her eyelids. She instinctively burrowed her head against him for more warmth and to sink into darkness. Mari often clung to him in the middle of the night and rolled over to the other side of the bed by the time morning came around. She must have thought it was still the night when her alarm hadn't rung.

"I really do love you," Kyouya told her again. He let her cling onto him like she had many times before in secret. He would wake in the middle of night like this when they first began entangling themselves with each other. They were so young. He remembered feeling the same way – the peace that came with her. The relief of having her nearby. The feeling of being needed, no – wanted. The way she clung onto him, he wanted to keep her like this forever. Neither would acknowledge such a thing.

But now he could. He kissed her forehead – as he did so many times before in secret, wondering if she would ever know.

She knew, she had always known. It always felt like a dream – a good one. In the same way that she brought him relief, he brought the security she never knew she wanted or needed. She let him hold her, in ways she let no one else would. She sighed sleepily. He let her drift back to sleep before he joined her.

He woke to her gasping quietly, untangling her limbs away from him so she could check the time. He jerked awake at the sudden movement and sat up reluctantly.

"Oh my goodness, didn't you have that meeting?" she exclaimed. "It's nearly noon! How could I have slept this long?" Mari groaned as she rubbed her eyes. The woman sat up and quickly typed an email she meant to send nearly 5 hours ago. How could she explain that she slept in with her husband because they both stayed up late drinking a bottle of wine after fighting past midnight?

"I turned off your alarm," Kyouya explained. He was trying to do her a favour. "I thought you set the email to auto-send last night."

"What?" Mari groaned. "No! I didn't. I was too tired," she moaned into the pillow. Now she looked completely unprofessional – not showing up to work without even a proper explanation. People must have wondered where she had gone.

"Relax, Mari," Kyouya was not amused by the sudden rude awakening he had gotten. They were so good to each other just a mere 6 hours ago. "I'm sure people didn't even notice."

"Kyouya, I got like 5 text messages from my colleagues asking if I was okay," the scientist glared at him.
"Well," the Ootori shrugged. "Tell them you're sick," he brushed off.

Mari responded quickly to the text messages, thanking everyone for their concern. She sent off the email to her direct superior before sinking back into their king-sized bed in shame. "I'm so embarrassed."

"Mari, people take time off for their reasons – it's normal," Kyouya rolled his eyes. "Besides, it's an opportune time to take some time off."
"Says who?" she glared at him for being a hypocrite.
"Says your CEO," Kyouya retorted. "I'll get on the call and I'll spend the rest of the day with you. It'll be quick," he assured. "We can do a weekend trip."

"A what?" Mari squinted in confusion. "Who are you?"
"Your husband," he responded simply.
"Fiancé," she corrected. Although more often than not, Mari would subconsciously call him her husband in her head. But there was no way she would let him have that kind of satisfaction, at least not when he was being as smug as he was now. "And where would we possibly go?"

"I'll figure it out," Kyouya shrugged. "Just pack a weekend bag."

Mari blinked. "Okay," she quietly agreed. "This is weird," she told him.

"What is?" he asked as he was the first to get out of bed to get ready. Mari followed him into their bathroom to do her morning routine along with him – a rare occurrence nowadays. They always woke at differing parts of the day but they would go to bed at around the same time. "The spontaneity isn't like you," Mari told him while she cleansed her face after brushing her own teeth.

"You don't like it?" he raised an eyebrow at her as he brushed his teeth. She blinked at him through the mirror as she patted her face dry.

"I don't hate it," she quietly admitted. He smirked with his foamy mouth.
"I was a—"
"If you're going to tell me about being a host; I'm not making your coffee," Mari had already anticipated his next sentence. "But actually, it would be nice to see the autumn leaves, no? Up in the mountains," she thought to herself. She could imagine the leaves already – how wonderful of a photo that would be.

Kyouya nodded in agreement. "Yes, we can certainly do that," he thought about it. "You've worked hard."

"Well," Mari shrugged. "So have you," she pointed out. They both enjoyed their jobs immensely but there were the tiring weeks that had them mulling over what seemed like an endless series of tasks to complete. "When should we leave?"

"After my meeting," he told her. "I'll make the booking and drive."

Mari looked at him in suspicion. "What's gotten into you?"

He shrugged and left it at that.


It was certainly a view that money could buy. Straight from their balcony was a sea of fall colours that bloomed in the midst of the mountains, even during the sunset. The sunlight filtered through the mountains into their villa for the weekend. The evening fell quickly and Mari sighed at the sight, relishing in the last moments of the day. She wished she could take a snapshot of this moment. It was so peaceful. She could feel herself already putting her walls down.

"I wonder," Mari broke the silence between them. She had her arms crossed as she stood against the window with the view. She had come up with a theory over the day. "Is this because you're sorry about Bali?"

The two had fought over their first vacation together. Mari, who had spent her years abroad as someone who travelled and sightsaw as much as she could clashed with the Ootori who had only wanted to relax and turn his brain off. He much preferred relaxing by their infinity pool over the day and reading a book. She got up at the brink of dawn. He woke past noon, as his natural body clock would. It frustrated Mari to no end, eventually leading to the woman travelling across the island on her own – surfing lessons at dawn, temple hopping across the days, eating at the food stalls over the course of the day, and watching the sunset on her own. It was a week of frustration that both of them concluded to agree to disagree on travelling styles.

"I believe the correct answer is yes," Kyouya treaded carefully. "Though I will admit it was not the intent."

"Then what is the intent?" Mari stepped closer to him, challenging him to speak the truth. She had gotten over Bali by now, accepting the fact that the Ootori truly preferred relaxing as a form of travel while she preferred sight-seeing. They had differing values on travelling.

Kyouya pushed up the frames of his glasses. "I suppose I just needed a break."

"Can we go on a hike?" Mari proposed. She could look up some nearby trails. It seemed like a wonderful time to catch some of the foliage before they had all disappeared.
"At an acceptable time?" he raised an eyebrow. Kyouya knew how she had a penchant of catching the sunrise and sunset – even though he explained that the rotation of the Earth was something that happened daily. She stormed off when he mentioned that the last time, yelling at him for not understanding the point of it all.

"Past 10?" she offered, inching closer to the man. He naturally grabbed her by the waist and welcomed her into his arms. This time she compromised – unlike their last vacation where she had made plans on her own and assumed the man would come along. It was a poor assumption. They were learning each other and taking the time to meet each other halfway. It took them over a decade to reach this point. They fared better than the last time, trying their best to work together instead of butting heads as they would have while they were younger. Perhaps this was the true sign of maturity after all these years – the want of staying together instead of straying apart.

"Alright," he agreed to her proposal. "Can we be back by mid-afternoon?"
"Okay," she nodded. "Do you want to settle and read a book?" Mari knew her fiancé well enough that by relaxing he really just meant sitting by the fireplace and reading whatever was on his list. He needed a day or two to recharge. Kyouya wanted time to stay away from his laptop and his phone and she respected that. She often joined him with her scientific journal articles, or a novel she had been meaning to read for a couple months. Mari liked the sound of cozying up to him against the warmth of the fire. He smiled down at her with their plans made for tomorrow.

"I love you," he repeated – making sure that she was fully awake this time to hear it.

"I know," she replied, mirroring the smirk he always gave her. She snaked her hands around his neck, letting his firm hands rest on her waist. "You don't have to say it," Mari reminded him.

"You're supposed to say it back," Kyouya rolled his eyes.

"Says who?" Mari laughed.


The leaves crunched beneath their feet as they climbed up the steep hill. The summit was a cliff that overlooked the little resort town and the rolling hills of the autumn leaves. It was a relatively short hike according to the search engine. Kyouya kept up with the woman who went at a pace that was much faster than he expected.

"If we want to get back by mid-afternoon, we have to move quickly," she huffed and immediately jumped up the rocks. He barely caught his own balance when she tugged him up the incline.

"Fine," he muttered. He held onto her hand who led the way across the rugged trails. Her hair was in a ponytail today. They both dressed in the windbreakers she packed and comfortable running shoes which inadvertently matched.

"We should get pictures," he told her.

"Huh?" Mari shot him a look of confusion. The Ootori was not exactly one who enjoyed being photographed and Mari never photographed herself – only landscapes or monuments. She was never the kind to take selfies or photos of herself. Unless it was with her nephew.

"You have so many of Taika and Yumi in your office," he grumbled. "How come there aren't of us?"
The scientist chuckled to herself. "Neither of us are people who like being photographed. And besides, how can I have you on my desk? People would immediately know we're together."

"Well, you could at least have a photo of us at our home office," the Ootori muttered. Mari mulled over his request for a while before turning to him and narrowing her eyes.

"Was this the true intent of the trip? So you could stick your face on my desk and distract me further?" she accused, half-jokingly. They were nearly there and Mari wondered if the lighting would be good enough for a nice photo of the two of them. The Ootori was not the greatest photographer, as demonstrated by the blurry photos of her and her nephew and his recital.

"I'm a distraction?" he smirked, playing the same game that she had begun. She rolled her eyes and shook her head at him. She let the comment go and tugged him along as she followed the trail markings to the end of the trail.

"Well, if you really insist," Mari sighed. "We can get another hiker to take a photo of us at the top," she suggested. "Because god knows how awful you are at holding the camera still."

"What?" Kyouya narrowed his eyes at her. "I take great photos!"

"No, you don't," the fiancée informed him. "You're awful."

The two had climbed to the top of the cliff, overlooking the view that they had spent the past two hours reaching. Kyouya dropped the topic when he saw the view. Mari exhaled and reached into her backpack for the water she packed for the both of them. He found an empty bench for them to sit quietly, watching over the sight peacefully. She silently handed him the bottle and took in the scenery for a few minutes.

"Hey," she nudged him. "Thanks for doing this," her voice softer than he expected. He made a noise of acknowledgement, gripping her hand a little tighter in response. Their hands had been intertwined, mostly for warmth at this point. She looked down at the hand that had held her own. Her free hand traced his ring finger. Kyouya hadn't noticed until she tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. She held a platinum band with a knurled texture with a smile. Mari was proud of her choice and he could tell from her grin that she had held it in for far too long.

"What is this?" he inspected the ring with curious eyes. He dared not to touch it – it looked rather delicate.

"Your wedding band," Mari answered simply. "Platinum, just like my engagement ring and of course, my own wedding band." She held up her own finger to show that she had a matching, thinner band that was right beneath the diamond ring. He hadn't noticed.

"What are those etches?" Kyouya squinted at the texture of the band. It was surely not traditional, but it was not exactly Mari to fit tradition after all.

"So you don't have to worry about scratching the band," the fiancée half-joked. "But actually, I thought the texture was… fitting of us."

"How so?" he asked.

The woman took his hand and carefully slipped the ring onto his ring finger, skipping the ceremonial aspect of it all. They had the view. They had each other. It seemed like the right time. She had picked out the bands before their Bali trip but the man had infuriated her for the entire time that she hadn't gotten a chance to present the rings to him. After their explosive night of discussing their wedding date and the spontaneous trip out into the mountains, Mari had figured now was a good time as any. There would never be a perfect time. They were never going to be perfect, either.

"Because we were never perfect," Mari answered him quietly. "But it's still beautiful, no? So delicately made and etched by hand. The perfect domed wedding bands just seemed too plain to me," the scientist shrugged. "And I thought you would like this," she added.

He held the hand closer to his eyes. The more he looked at it, the more he grew to like the weight of it on his own hand. A symbol that he was taken, forever and always by the woman he loved. He nodded in approval before planting a kiss at her temple. "It is perfect," he whispered.