Mary had hoped her shyness wouldn't be as bad at a masquerade ball, but it was somehow still scary— even if in a different way— to be surrounded by faceless figures that towered over her and surrounded her, murmuring in adult conversations she couldn't understand if she tried. Still, it helped a little, and it helped even more that none of them would remember her if she did something embarrassing. That helped especially when, trying to get out of someone's way, she backed into one of the waiters, knocking his tray of beverages over herself, him, and all the surrounding people.

If only her mother and grandmother hadn't made her come, she thought with puffed-up cheeks, trying to wring the liquid out of her hair. If they saw her now they'd scold her for being impolite, but she didn't care. No one would recognize her anyway, not even with her mask, not even with her small stature and unusual pale hair. Her eyes began to sting with tears, but she couldn't wipe at them with the mask on, so she just blinked furiously as she blew damp strands of her bangs out of her face. Mary didn't want to be here, not when everyone else was probably ten years older than her, at least, and talking about taxes and business and—

She was snapped out of her brewing temper by a loud peal of laughter, and Mary's gaze snapped up to the face of the man she'd knocked into, who was just as soaked as her, if not more. Despite that, he was chuckling, picking at the front of his dripping uniform shirt with what sounded like amusement. For a second, she'd thought he was laughing at her, but his mirth was obviously directed solely at himself and the dark stain on his shirt and vest.

"Sorry about that!" he said after a second, flashing her a bright grin before kneeling to pick up the broken glasses. The people who had gathered nearby to tut at her clumsiness dispersed into the crowd, still as nameless and faceless as before, and Mary felt her embarrassed blush begin to fade from her cheeks and shoulders. "You okay?"

She scurried to answer his question and help him with the platter, her fingers flinching away from the broken glass as if it could bite her even from a distance. "I'm fine! U-um… I'm really sorry for bumping into you like that…"

Mary felt the tears coming on again, as much at her own clumsiness and the uncomfortable feeling of her wet dress as sympathy for this stranger's sake. Still, once the feeling began, she couldn't push it away, and she sniffled, doing her best to blink the tears away. "Ah, I'm going to get in so much trouble when grandmother sees my dress…."

"You just have to wait for it to dry off, right?"

For some reason she'd thought he'd moved on, or hadn't been listening to her complaints, but Mary was proven wrong when a warm palm patted the top of her head, and then caught her wrist.

"C'mon!"

She stumbled a little as she was pulled to her feet, not quite used to the heels on her new shoes. By the time she got her balance back, the boy was towing her through the crowd, the broken glass-covered platter balanced on his other hand as he flitted between party-goers with the ease of practice. Despite the fact that he was the only unmasked person in sight, none of them gave him a second glance. Mary somehow found that a little reassuring.

"Where are we going?" she called over the buzz of conversation. He glanced over his shoulder, flashing her another grin and somehow managing not to run into people at the same time.

"Outside, if that's okay! It's really nice."

Mary doubted that, seeing as it was after sunset in the middle of December, but she couldn't quite find the words to protest a statement so profoundly stupid.

In seconds, they were through the service door, the platter was abandoned a cart of dirty dishes, and then they were in some sort of locker room.

"Um—"

"Here you go!" A heavy winter coat was draped around her shoulders, joined shortly by a scarf, and then a pair of ridiculous-looking earmuffs, which she refused as politely as possible. The jacket was way too large for her, falling past her knees and drowning her in the enormous hood, but she managed to situate it and the scarf in a way that she could at least see, head popping out from the loops of warm wool in time to catch him beaming at her. He had, apparently, taken the goofy earmuffs back, but otherwise wouldn't he be too cold?

He didn't seem to care though, opening the outside door for her as if it were the front door of a grand hotel, not the side door of an employee's locker room.

A little baffled by the peculiarity of his actions, Mary stepped through and into the chill of outdoors.

It was snowing. The flakes fell in a soft layer of white over the sidewalk, even though the road was dark and wet in comparison. A snowflake found its way between the scarf and Mary's neck, melting against the warm skin, and she shivered.

Somehow it seemed wrong to talk loudly in the peace of the night, the street deserted except for the two of them, but Mary couldn't keep silent as they wandered down the sidewalk a little, leaving dark footprints behind. The boy was gazing around at the snow covered scenery as though he'd never seen it before, a delighted expression on his face as his breath left him in clouds of condensation. He didn't seem to be affected by the cold, even though the only winter attire he wore were those earmuffs. And wasn't his shirt still wet in the front?

Finally, Mary stopped, breaching the distance between them with a timid hand. She tugged at his sleeve, and he turned to her, the amazement in his expression not diminishing in the least when he looked at her.

She had so many things she wanted to ask— why had he suddenly dragged her from the ballroom, why wasn't he cold, why was he so happy— but all that came out after a second was her nervous voice saying, "My name's Mary."

If she'd thought he was smiling before, now he was positively beaming, turning on the spot to grab her shoulders and grin down at her in delight. There were snowflakes in his hair and his eyebrows, and she could see his cheeks going red from the chill, but there was no uncertainty in his voice as he remarked, in a tone of joy and wonder, "Mary! Huh. That's a great name."

She waited for him to introduce himself too, though it took him several seconds before he jumped in realization, laughing nervously, and she suspected now the color on his cheeks wasn't only the cold. "Oh! I'm Seto. It's good to meet you!"