Chapter 30

Mari pinned her hair up and then took it back apart. She was unsure what to do with it, what was the most appropriate for this occasion? Mari did not attend these things on a regular basis, not like her little sister Yuki. She knew if she called her little sister, she'd throw too many overwhelming ideas at her to decide.

Mari huffed to herself in the mirror. Her dress was simple. Thigh-high slit, white satin-material that hung on one of her shoulders with loose folds which sat right below her collarbones. Her ears were adorned with dangling diamonds that matched the pearl colour scheme of her dress. Kyouya had heard her sigh in the other room and poked into the bathroom as he adjusted his tie. He had only begun to get ready when he saw her change into the dress. It was a stunning dress, he thought to himself.

"Hair half-up," he suggested when he saw her frowning at the mirror. Kyouya figured she was struggling when he noted all the bobby pins on the counter. She took his suggestion and fixed her hair accordingly, surprised by how it turned out. It was enough to showcase her earrings while still covering much of the bare skin of her back and shoulders. A classy choice.

The Ootori smirked to himself, pleased by how his wife looked. He pressed a quick kiss to her temple, a natural gesture nowadays whenever he felt like it. She welcomed it more often than not, letting him steal quick kisses on a regular basis.

"Thanks," she muttered when he joined her in their bathroom. "Is this going to last long? I still have that report to finish."
"It's the weekend," Kyouya shot her a look.
She mirrored the same glare. "Oh please, as if you don't work on the weekends either."

The Ootori rolled his eyes. He couldn't argue against that. "Well, is it an urgent deadline?"
"Er," Mari thought about it. "Depends on how fast upper management can approve of it. It's a project p—" she stopped herself. It was probably better not to discuss it with the CEO. There were other projects being proposed that she was not a part of. There were perks to working together but the boundary had to be drawn given their positions in the company, especially when he was one of the decision makers.

The husband looked at her to continue to which Mari only shook her head. "Never mind. I don't want to create any bias."

The Ootori raised an eyebrow. His wife made a fair point, always being rational. "Well, I'm sure it can wait," he chided.

"So what is this thing for again? Ouran Alumni to what? Donate more money than they already have…?" Mari muttered. "I think that school has enough, purely from a tuition standpoint. I'd say they should provide more scholarships." She fixed the edge of her lipstick with a fingernail and blinked a few times to make sure her lashes stayed in place.

"We'll just say hello to Tamaki and leave," the Ootori assured. "It won't be for long," he promised.
"Well if it is, I'm going home without you," she joked. The husband narrowed his eyes at the wife.

"I need you," his tone serious. Mari rolled her eyes, unamused by all of this. She was never made to be a socialite. These events made her feel more out of place than ever. She was much more comfortable sitting in the lab with her lab coat and nitrile gloves. Now she was forced to stand beside her husband with strangers she most certainly did not recall from her years at Ouran.

"Yes yes, I'll be your trophy wife," the scientist sighed defeatedly, staring down at her ring finger. It glistened under any kind of lighting, enough to bring attention from the entire room if they looked for it.
"You know I didn't mean that," Kyouya glared. He would never degrade her to such a title.

"It was a joke," Mari grumbled. Both of them were obviously on edge, annoyed with the need to have to go to this event. They much preferred a night to themselves. The Ootori would be missing his nightly news channel and Mari needed more time to finish that report. "I doubt people even remember who I am," she added. "Much less people knowing that you're married to some nobody." Mari finished off her makeup with a quick spritz of setting spray and dabbed on her perfume to finish off the look. She sat against the counter and waited for her husband to do his hair. Men and their hair, ugh.

"You're somebody," the husband argued while combing. "You come from a respectable family," he reminded. "And you're an accomplished scientist," he added. He was very proud of his partner.

"Am I?" Mari chuckled to herself. "Imposter syndrome runs deep when you don't have an ego like an Ootori, you know."

Kyouya narrowed his eyes at the comment. "I didn't ask to be attacked like this."

"Sorry," Mari apologized swiftly. "But am I wrong?" she laughed to herself. The man sighed and carried on, ignoring the amused look of his wife. He did like the way she laughed though. It echoed in their bathroom. Mari had the smug smirk of knowing that he was just the slightest bit ticked off but not enough to actually put him in an awful mood. Mari crossed her arms and watched the man fix his hair to his usual volume. It was a clean, sleek look. She pressed a kiss to his cheek as a real apology, but not without letting the lipstick stain on his skin. Mari gave him a cheeky grin through the mirror as another playful tease. He was quick to dive down to chase her own lips, only to meet her cheek instead.

"Don't ruin my makeup," she warned. "I spent more time on it than you do on your hair." Mari slipped off the counter with a quick hop to find her shoes for the night.
"Just you wait," he responded, letting her run off for now. He looked back to the mirror and needed to rub the dark red off his cheek. She taught him to use makeup remover on a cotton pad. It wasn't the first time he found himself covered in a few smidgens of dark red on his face or neck. Sometimes she would help gently wipe off the marks of her affection with a small smile. He shyly looked at the patch of red in his palm before tossing it in the trash, easily forgiven.

She drove him mad but she was wholeheartedly his.


Mari looked around the place. Of course, the school itself would have a whole banquet hall. She recalled that dances were held here too, back in the day. It was covered in strings of lights and floral décor which screamed nothing more than Ouran. She let her husband guide her with his hand at the small of her back. She glanced at him, speaking in the language that they only knew.

"I'll make sure to be quick," he reassured her, knowing immediately what those eyes asked of him. They could already hear the crowds through the door. She nodded at him, trusting his words and leaned against him in comfort. She was not the most affectionate person, especially in public – but tonight she felt a longing to be reassured by him. He kissed her temple quickly before the two reverted back to their usual stance of standing beside one another in equal partnership.

Mari looked around the room not recognizing anybody. She took note of the stares of the women who ogled her husband instead. It was odd knowing that he was surprisingly sought-after. He loved to remind her of his Host Club days but Mari never quite understood their popularity until tonight. Mari always assumed he was inflating the height of his popularity during their time at Ouran. After all, Mari buried her head in music and textbooks, not boys or frivolous materialistic things.

Tamaki spotted them first, moving through the crowds with his wife to welcome the Ootoris.

"You made it!" he exclaimed. "Oh Mari, you look absolutely gorgeous," the Suoh made sure not to forget the other Ootori. Haruhi gave the woman a nod of acknowledgement, letting her husband run wild with the flamboyant greetings instead. Somehow, Tamaki ended up whisking away the Ootori in a blink of an eye and Mari was suddenly left alone. Haruhi watched as the best friends went off to the rest of the crowd, doing whatever they did best.

"He'll come back," Haruhi told her apologetically.
"Oh, it's fine," Mari brushed off. "I already told him I'd leave without him," she half-joked. A server came around with a set of wine glasses to which Haruhi politely declined. Mari took one to keep her hands busy and looked around.

"I think he hoped to actually spend time with you," the lawyer could see the half-pained expression on the Ootori's face as he stood with the rest of the boys of the Club. The two women made their way closer to the edge of the room by the windows, maintaining a healthy distance away from the rambunctious crowd and into a quieter setting to watch it all unfold instead. They were largely unknown by the rest of the room. The two wives could already see how the club had been swallowed by more and more people over the years – none of which Mari could recognize. She spent her formative years in the music room and in the classrooms. Nowhere else, really.

"Well," Mari sighed. "Let's just hope he doesn't get roped into donating a whole wing of sorts to this godforsaken academy."

Haruhi had a hearty laugh at the comment. "Well, the whole purpose was this event was to raise funds for new tech or something like that." She didn't exactly have that much of a clue either. She was here to say hello and to support her husband, like a good partner would. Haruhi assumed that Mari was here for the same reason. They most certainly had other things to worry about over coming back to their high school.

"I thought they just had a new athletic wing? With an Olympic sized swimming pool?" Mari narrowed her eyes. She listened to Kyouya drone on about the new renovations that the school had gone through on the way here. "How much more money does this place even need?"

The commoner shrugged. "I wish I could tell you. There's always something new."

"Ugh," Mari pointed her nose at the extravagance of it all before taking a sip of wine to ease her irritancy. "This place is ridiculous. What happened to books? And paper? And a chalkboard?"

"Well, those turned into electronic files, tablets, and projectors," Haruhi explained. Mari only shook her head.

"I learned just fine without those," Mari crossed her arms. She was a disgruntled academic who was obviously unhappy with the changes that had happened over the past two decades. Things seemed so easy nowadays while she had to scrawl through textbooks and carry them back and forth every day. She wrote tests on paper and not through a virtual screen.

"We all did," the lawyer shrugged. "But you know, things change. It gets more and more competitive to get into this academy now."

Mari relented when she remembered Taika revering about Ouran. He was getting set to take entrance exams for middle school. "My nephew," she sighed. "He's looking to attend. He got especially excited when he heard I had gone here. What a place this was back in the day… hopefully there are less shenanigans nowadays than there were when we were around," the scientist grumbled.

"Oh, did you tell him that his uncle is—" Haruhi began.
"—No," Mari cut off. "I am never letting my nephew know of my husband's reputation here as a host. It is an absolute embarrassment to me," Mari declared with a huff.
"I was going to say friends with the headmaster," Haruhi chuckled. The lawyer didn't realize how much Mari hated the Ootori's reputation here as a host in itself. She watched as Mari squinted at how women fawned over the group of men as though they literally were back in high school. It was so strange to see. Mari never looked at the Ootori as the Cool Type when they were young – she was instantly reminded of the feelings of annoyance she had any time his name was mentioned.

The scientist pursed her lips. "Oh," she dumbly responded, embarrassed by her accusation. "Well, no. Probably best that he doesn't know he has an in…" Mari rolled her eyes.

"Well, I am sure if he is anything like you, he would get here on his own merit," the lawyer smiled warmly. Mari nodded in agreement.

"Yes," she sighed at the thought of her nephew. He was so precious to her. She needed to catch up with him at some point, perhaps another movie night was due. "He is a bright one. He'll do just fine. I just hope he doesn't get too clouded with all of this madness."

"He'll have you," Haruhi noted. "And you'll keep him in check. We all turned out fine," she shrugged. "Your husband was in the centre of all of the madness. Look at him now," Haruhi tilted her head towards the general direction of the crowd.

"Well," Mari was unimpressed by how she had lost them in the sea of people and looked back at the lawyer. "Kyouya is still an insensitive prick sometimes."

"And yet," Haruhi raised an eyebrow at the ring and wedding band on the woman's finger.
"He blackmailed me into marrying him," Mari joked with an eye roll.
"I can't tell if you're joking because he really would do something like that," Haruhi deadpanned.
"I can confirm that it was a joke," the scientist laughed. "He's matured since then," Mari promised.

Haruhi nodded in amusement. "Oh he has," she mused. "But when they're all together, it's like they've never grown up."

Mari nodded when she realized that Tamaki's plan of gathering the rest of the club to fundraise was quite genius. A taste of nostalgia after many decades apart while the women swooned and opened up their wallets to dedicate more funds to the institute of private education. Mari shook her head at it all and leaned against the wall. She wondered if the Ootori had given him the idea or if the Suoh actually came up with it himself.

"Your husband is something else," Mari whispered.
"Oh yes," Haruhi readily agreed. She leaned against the wall with the scientist, watching other women take their turns saying hello to the Group of 6. Mari sighed at the ache of her ankles from standing so long. Leaning against the wall gave only a slight relief.

"Those shoes," only another woman could tell. It was certainly not a sigh of jealousy but fatigue. The pair of women had no reason to be jealous when their respective husbands had quietly worshipped them in their private lives. "Goodness, they're gorgeous but they look like an absolute terror to walk in."
"You're right," Mari sighed. "My husband promised that it would be quick," she shook her head in disappointment.

"Well, can you blame him? Look at him – he's clearly being tortured," Haruhi pointed out the expression on the Ootori's face when they could catch a glimpse of it. Mari could see the way his lips twitched up whenever someone came around to say hello. He was losing his patience.

"Should I save him?" Mari wondered out loud as she swirled the red liquid in her glass. She took a sip while contemplating the thought out loud.

"Well, I think my husband has borrowed him long enough," the lawyer interjected. "And like you said, this academy has more than enough funds," she added. "Go," Haruhi encouraged. "He needs you."

I need you.

Mari took a long breath and finally understood. He needed her tonight, not to just look pretty on his arm or to impress other socialites. She sighed to herself and reluctantly put down her glass of wine. It was hardly enough to get her feeling anything but slightly annoyed by her shoes. Her heels clacked against the marble floors as she quietly walked across the floor, ignoring the implied lineup of women who had waited their turn to catch up and to say hello. She was his wife, after all. There was no need to line up. The Ootori was her husband and she would own up to that title.

Mari interrupted her husband with someone she had never seen before and gave a polite smile to the woman before looking up at her husband softly. It was a glance that everyone caught, enough to melt the hearts of those who watched them speak to each other with nothing but their eyes.

I'm here.

"Apologies, my wife and I—" Kyouya began his farewell politely before the stranger interrupted.
"—Oh no no, of course. I understand," she smiled at them both without needing an explanation. How much more did they need? They were all old enough with their own partners and even families of their own. It was an exciting time to live in the past for just a brief moment.

He gripped her hand immediately, his palm enveloping her own. The two wandered away from the crowds and into the darkness for just a moment of privacy. He exhaled when they safely hid behind a pillar while the rest of hosts had continued on with their entertaining. Mari poked her head out to grab another glass of wine to calm the Ootori down.

"You couldn't have come sooner?" he whispered while taking the glass from her.
"What? I thought you wanted to relive your hosting duties," Mari shot back.
"Of course not," Kyouya glared. "I'm a married man."
"Hm, I couldn't tell," Mari rolled her eyes.

"Oh, is that jealousy I sense?" Kyouya smirked. He sipped on his wine as his wife glared at him. He quite enjoyed seeing his wife jealous, at least for once in her life.
"It's annoyance, you idiot – my shoes are killing me," Mari responded within a heartbeat. She was never a jealous person – it was him who was more of the jealous type.

"A pity," the Ootori frowned. "Would have been nice to dance with my wife."
"In front of everyone?" Mari looked at the crowd nervously. She didn't like crowds – unless she was in a crowd of scientists and academics. People who understood her. People that she respected and vice versa. This was a place that she did not belong. "I think not."

"You don't have to look at them, you know," Kyouya reminded. "People know I'm married. In fact, most of the people here are married. It isn't anything new to expect me to have a wife."

Mari frowned. She just wanted to go home. Her feet ached with every step and she just wanted to curl up into their bed and read a scientific journal article before sleeping. Kyouya's eyes faltered when he saw her look at the crowd with a forlorn expression. He silently placed the glass down and took her hand, leading her through the crowds. He stopped in the midst of the dance floor, camouflaged with the rest of the couples who had been swaying side to side in their own bubbles of privacy.

"I thought we were going home," she whispered. He took a firm grip on her waist instead, asking her to follow his lead. She did as told with a sigh and shyly looked down at her feet, hoping not to step on his feet instead. They could do this for a few minutes, she thought to herself. Just enough for show and then she could walk them both out when her ankles screamed for relief.

"Look at me," he murmured quietly.
"If you want me to step on your feet, just say so," Mari muttered, her eyes still attached to the movement of her legs, careful to step with her husband and not on top of him instead.

"You won't step on my feet," Kyouya comforted. "You took classes, didn't you?"

She glared at him for making such an assumption. It was enough to keep her attention away from the floor. "My entire childhood was dedicated to playing the piano." He should have known this by now. "I was playing Czerny by the age of 6."

"Alright," he rolled his eyes. "So you were a bit of a prodigy," Kyouya shrugged.
"A bit?" Mari shook her head. "I was most definitely a prodigy," the woman half-joked. It wasn't exactly like her to tout her achievements but the Ootori egged her on to do so. He liked seeing that. She didn't do it enough – admitting that she was indeed, top-tier. She was out of everyone else's league, except for his own. He smirked at the thought.
"Our children are going to be top of their class without even trying," Kyouya mused to himself.

"Please never say that again, you sound awfully elitist," Mari groaned. He smiled as she only grew more annoyed. At least she wasn't looking down at her feet. It made it much more difficult to admire her when all he could see was the top of her head.

"What are you staring at?" the wife narrowed her eyes, suddenly anxious about him staring. Was everyone else staring too? "Is my lipstick smudged?" Dark colours on the lips only worked if the lines were clean and clear. It took her years to learn.
"No," his eyes faltered. "No, you're perfect," he whispered. He wanted the world to see her in the way that he did. An absolute stunner of a woman that went beyond her physical traits. How she confidently walked up to him earlier in the night without batting an eye at the rest of the women who vied for his attention. She knew he was hers without having to declare it.

Mari averted her gaze again, almost embarrassed to have heard him say the words aloud. She prayed that her cheeks did not turn rosier than whatever her shade of blush had been. Mari tried not to look at the crowd, knowing that it would just make her more uncomfortable. She felt relaxed in his arms, no matter how stupid he sounded to her. Their conversations were never made to be shared with anyone else but them.

"Being sweet isn't like you," the wife softly responded, looking at his eyes instead of their surroundings. "It's strange," she added.
"You don't like it?" he raised an eyebrow, keeping their pace steady. She easily followed without thinking too hard about how her body needed to move. He kept her mind off of feeling nervous about it all.
"I didn't say that," Mari avoided admitting that it was nice every once in a while. "I just thought you would have wanted to keep up your fa?ade of being… you know, whatever they call you. The Shadow King? The Cool Type?"

"Oh, so you do know who I am," the Ootori smirked. He didn't mind those terms.
"I forgot you were the Shadow King," Mari rolled her eyes. "But to me, you're just Kyouya," she added. "That's all I've ever wanted from you. Not this weird… popular… guy that women fawned over. I didn't even know people thought you were hot."

"I'm not hot?" Kyouya scoffed, obviously appalled by the statement in itself.
"Uh," Mari squinted at her husband with his glasses. "Well, you're not unattractive," she backtracked half-heartedly. "But Morinozuka-san is taller than you…" She caught a glance of him when she spoke to Haruhi. They took their time to observe the crowd from afar. The man certainly stood out with his height and angled jaw.

The Ootori grumbled to himself. "Just because he's damn tall…"
"Hey," Mari tried to get his attention back to her. Her voice was soft enough to bring his glance back to her face. He softened immediately when she smiled up at him. "It's okay, our babies will still be cute," she teased. "Cute and smart. How much more would they need?"

"Nothing," he agreed. "They'll be perfect."
"And they'll go here, won't they?" Mari sighed, leaning against his shoulder. He welcomed the weight against his body, enjoying the warmth that she brought. He softly inhaled the jasmine scent of her hair, quietly indulging in the stares of the room. They revered what they had, and he was proud to have achieved it. Mari on the other hand, was oblivious to it all. "This stupid school," she grumbled to herself.
"And Harvard," Kyouya added. How could they forget their alma mater where it all began? Technically it all began here, in Ouran. But they were ready to slit each other's throats at this place and it wasn't what he considered the beginnings of it all. Ouran was special for other reasons.
"I mean," Mari laughed lowly to herself. "I think they'll go to Yale. You know, just to spite us."

"I'll bet on it," the husband challenged.
"Oh? What are we waging?" the wife smiled up at him. He could never get tired of moments like these. He never got tired of fighting with her, either. But he preferred these quiet private moments with her just a little more.
"Hm," Kyouya wondered. "Another lifetime with you," he pitched snarkily.

"Pfft," Mari laughed, not caring who heard them. His attempt at flirting was always a source of amusement to her. Somehow, his hosting abilities never quite translated well into wooing her the same way as it did with other women. They spoke in quiet whispers and low chuckles. "Okay, well I want a house in the mountains. The same one that we stayed during the autumn when I gave you your wedding band."

Kyouya nodded in amusement. "Sure," he shrugged. The Ootori knew that his wife meant it as a joke, but the man made a mental note to surprise her with the property at some point somewhere down the line of their lives, in the same way that he presented her the home they built together.

This was bliss. Having her in his arms while the world watched in awe. He loved it and he loved her most of all.


Their usual daily routine had been a little different in their new home. As if the condo hadn't had enough space for the both of them, their new home echoed with all of the high ceilings and lack of furnishings during the first week. Mari had entrusted the task to Kyouya as he worked from home to coordinate the delivery of all of their furniture as she stayed at work to coordinate the upheaval of a new project.

Every day, Mari would come home to a new furnishing. One day they had a TV. The kind that was far too large for what she would have picked but she figured it was what she would get if she let the Ootori do the task anyway. A sofa arrived another day. Bar stools that matched with their marble counter tops. A dining table fit for a family. The list went on over the course of a month until they were able to properly sit together in front of their television, once again, watching the news as per the Ootori's choice. Mari laid her head on the shoulder of her husband, comfortably sinking into their leather couch.

She sighed to herself happily.

"What's wrong?" he asked while his eyes were still glued to the news anchor on the 70-inch 4K screen. She commented that it was far too large for the room but it fit over their mantle just perfectly to her annoyance. The Ootori was quite proud of winning that argument, often reminding her of how wonderfully sized their TV was for the room.

"Nothing," Mari answered.

"Then why are you sighing like it's some passive-aggressive sign that I should be picking up?" Kyouya rolled his eyes.
"Is that what I sound like?" she responded, obviously offended by the comment. She stopped leaning on her husband and sat up against the seat.

"Yes," he answered blatantly. "So what's wrong?" he pressed.
"Nothing is wrong," the wife huffed. "Until you opened your mouth," Mari added.

The two glared at each other instead of the TV screen with their arms crossed. They mirrored the same look of annoyance.

"Excuse me for trying to be a caring husband," Kyouya shot back.
"A caring husband would have actually picked up when I'm upset and not try to pick a fight," she pointed out.

"Erm," Taika interrupted the couple's quarrel from the loveseat. "Can we watch something else?"

Mari had forgotten that her nephew had been there. He had asked to come over for the weekend, needing her help on another science project. She fed Kyouya takeout that the Takuyas had picked up on their way home. At this point, Kyouya had gotten used to the presence of her nephew every once in a while. He was a polite child. Good natured. Well behaved. He tolerated him more than he could tolerate Tamaki which was a great start.

The aunt turned her head to her nephew and tossed him the remote. Her expression softened immediately when looking at the child. "Sure, pick whatever you want."

"Thanks," the kid responded as he caught the remote. Kyouya frowned. There was still 15 minutes left of their nightly news programme. Mari rolled her eyes and silently warned him to be quiet about it.

"It's educational!" Kyouya hissed quietly.
"And so are documentaries that are way more interesting than how the economy is holding up," Mari argued.

"Can we watch this action movie instead?" Taika pulled it up on their big screen.
"Sure," Mari answered without hesitating, her tone changing immediately when speaking to her nephew. She was indifferent about the choice but she'd watch it for him. The aunt always gave into her nephew, no matter what he asked for.

Kyouya sighed at the film. Whatever. He'll sit through it. It was a tolerable choice. His wife now sat on the other side of the couch, annoyed with him.

He had to admit that he did miss having her lean against him, his body suddenly feeling colder than usual when the movie began. Mari hugged onto the cushion instead as she sat cross legged, refusing to give into the human pillow she preferred utilizing instead. She clutched onto the plush for more warmth, her chin resting against the top of the pillow. The Ootori relented and moved closer to Mari, gently draping his arm around her shoulder to let her lean against his body – back to the same position they were in before. By the middle of the movie, he heard her softly sigh again – perhaps now out of comfort.

He understood now. There wasn't anything wrong. Maybe it really was him who was wrong. He pressed a kiss to her temple as an apology, wondering if she even noticed. She probably didn't, given how enamoured she was by the screen. Kyouya looked towards the kid who was equally intrigued. The Takuyas were both on the same wavelength – something he was unable to tap into, even after these years. He wished he were a part of it.

When the movie finished, Mari told the Ootori to load the dishwasher as she walked her nephew upstairs to the guestroom that was newly furnished. She let the boy settle into the room for the weekend, before leaving him to tend to her own nightly routine.

"It wasn't his fault, you know," Taika mentioned casually.
"Hm?" Mari was on the other side of the bed, helping the boy with the new sheets and draping an extra blanket over the bed in case he got cold over the course of the night.

"You did sound a little sad," the nephew explained. Mari didn't realize that the child was still hung up on their spat. It was a regular occurrence, if not a daily one. She had forgotten about it already if it weren't for him bringing it up again.
"And I told him I wasn't," Mari defended.

"He sounded concerned," the child shrugged. "Do you guys always fight like that?" It was a perfectly valid question. Sometimes it was hard to believe that the two were a couple for as long as they were together.

Mari blinked. "Hm, yes. Since we were kids," she admitted. The aunt and uncle were comfortable enough not to have to put up a fa?ade in front of the child – he was literally family.
"Oh," Taika noted to himself. "Well, are you still mad at him?"

Mari shrugged. "Not mad but there's always something to get annoyed about with him," she sighed. "But he's good when it counts."
"When does it count?" Taika asked without missing a beat.
"Uh," Mari thought about it for a second. "He knows when to say sorry," she started. He got much better at it over the years. She wouldn't have expected him to have changed in the way he had when she first met him. Goodness, how much they have grown since they were young.
"Do you?" the precocious boy turned the question to her instead.

Mari blinked and crossed her arms, growing more defensive at the interrogation of her nephew. "I think so, yes."
"You sure?" Taika raised an eyebrow at his aunt.
"Are you saying I should've apologized?" the adult huffed, second-guessing her own behaviour throughout the night.

Taika shook his head. "I'm not saying anything, Aunt Mari." The boy was no longer the child she could shower with her own affection. He was growing into a young teenager, stressed about his academics and the growing pressures of having to seem perfect to the world. Mari did her best to remind him that he was still allowed to enjoy his youth. To embrace all the mistakes. To carve his own path into the future that seemed so daunting for now.

She hugged him good night and pressed a kiss to the top of his head – he was growing taller and taller every time. He shifted away from her in mock disgust, telling her he was far too old for this now. It amazed her that she used to carry him on her arms as a baby. She could hardly rest her chin over the boy's head now.

She crawled into bed as the Ootori had been browsing on his tablet, waiting for her so they could rest together. Kyouya had long forgotten about the spat they had earlier. They had conversations like that on a regular basis. The two hardly kept track of who won what argument. She leaned against the headboard and took apart the loose bun of hair.

"I'm sorry," she muttered quietly, letting Taika's words get the best of her. She didn't look him in the eye as she put on the hand cream from her nightstand.
"For what?" the Ootori was confused looking up from the blue screen towards his wife. She was wearing his t-shirt and cotton shorts. Her makeup had been washed away to leave behind the woman he was grateful to see beneath the exterior.

"For snapping at you earlier," Mari grumbled. "Taika made some keen observations," she explained.
"He's a good kid," Kyouya responded in amusement. "Truly." He was actually rather impressed.

"Yeah," Mari sighed. "He's growing so fast – he somehow managed to guilt-trip me without even trying."
"Did he now?" the husband smirked. "That boy deserves the new gaming console."

Mari glared at Kyouya. "The what now?" She disapproved of the sudden choice. That was her idea of his birthday present.
"I'll order it tomorrow," the Ootori decided, ignoring Mari's protest.
"What?" Mari was shocked by her husband's decisiveness.
"I will be his favourite uncle," he continued.
"Okay, you're his only uncle," Mari pointed out. "And if you're going to do that, it's going to be from us because that was my idea first."

Kyouya shook his head. "It will be from me."
"Okay, you can't bribe your approval from my nephew," the aunt argued.
"Yes, I can," Kyouya took off his glasses for the night. "But you'll always be his favourite."

Mari relented at the comment. It was as if he knew exactly what to say to ease her annoyance. Perhaps it was the years of being together that he had finally learned. He threw the comforter over her body to keep her warm before settling beneath the covers to call it a night. She laid her head on his chest and sighed into him. Kyouya felt her body relax into his own, settling into their usual position of sleeping. Her sigh was something else.

A sigh of relief. Of comfort. Of peace.

He understood, even if it took him a whole night to understand her better.