A/N: A little out of season for me to be posting this, isn't it? I started writing it a while back (I'll let you guess the day, since it's pretty obvious) but never got the right ending. However, yesterday it just came to me. The perfect way to finish this. So I picked up writing it, and well, this is the result. Although... the perfect way of ending it doesn't necessarily mean it's written perfectly...

Originally, this started out as a drabble for Skittles... and then got a little out of hand. By about 4,000 words. Since it was actually a request that I do a romance drabble and this idea kind of escalated, this story is dedicated to Kish's Kittie. ^^ Who I hope will be resurrected long enough to read this.

Sorry in advance for the utter amount of blushing involved with the characters. I guess I wrote "their cheeks darkened in colour" about ten times before correcting it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! And please, don't forget to review!

Disclaimer: Yeah, I wish I owned TMM. But sadly, I don't.

Glass Slippers

Ichigo strummed her fingers on the table, using her other hand to cup her cheek. Her elbow was propped on the table beside the dancing fingers, and a scowl played across her lips. She'd been waiting here a while now, and was running out of things to keep her entertained.

Normally, Ichigo's life was so hectic that the thought of sitting still for any amount of time had sounded like a dream. She would complain constantly at the café about not getting a break, point and rant at Minto for never bothering to help, throw up her hands and stomp her feet when Ryou changed her shift to longer hours, and simply wish that at least one of her friends would take pity on her. But now, she realised that having nothing to do was rather… boring.

Though maybe it was just her impatience. She didn't like how slow this was going - she wanted it over and done with as soon as possible. For all she knew, the guy could be a freak. He could be a stalker. He could talk to her about nothing other than cars and tools. He could just not talk to her at all… though that last one didn't sound so bad. It might be awkward, but--

She cut her thoughts there, as another lone male walked into the restaurant, glancing from side to side as if looking for someone. Locating the person, he waved, and Ichigo felt her stomach drop in disappointment when she realised she wasn't the one he was looking for. Shame, he was cute.

The whole 'blind date' thing had been Minto and Purin's idea. After her break-up with Masaya last summer, Ichigo hadn't been anywhere near a boy. Though the split was simple, painless, and had not been in the least harsh or complicated, Ichigo had felt herself slowly slipping into depression. Of course, her best friends weren't having that. Many times they had tried to match-make, but the redhead had always refused.

…Until now.

Valentine's Day had left her desperate, especially since the other girls all had dates that night. So when Minto had come to her, offering her a way out of the solitude, she had jumped at the chance. Purin had neglected getting ready for her own special night (which would consist of playing in the park with Tart), in favor of helping Ichigo with her hair and make-up. Though the little monkey-girl had been more of a hindrance, rather than help. Ichigo had needed to clean off her make-up twice and re-do it all, though she had kept a smile plastered across her face the whole time. Much to Ichigo's astonishment, Minto had dropped off a dress for her to wear, though she wouldn't leave before warning her countless times that if she get it even the slightest bit dirty, she would be washing it by hand twenty times over. The catgirl had laughed the comment off, but had since taken more care of the item of clothing than she would have normally.

When she was all ready, Ichigo had made her way to the fancy restaurant where she was told her date would be meeting her, glancing at clocks in shop windows as she went, nervous in case she was late. Arriving at the place, she had discovered that she was in fact five minutes early - something that had caused her to beam with pride. But that was over half an hour ago, and Ichigo's mood had slowly deteriorated since then.

Which brought her to the present; bored, impatient, and alone.

Noticing the glares some people nearby were giving her, she stopped drumming her fingers, moving to place them in her drink instead. Even mindless tasks such as stirring the water in her glass seemed interesting to her right now.

The door to the restaurant opened again, but Ichigo didn't bother to look up. She sighed, questioning why she was doing this again? Obviously, he wasn't going to turn up. So why was she still here?

Just as she'd resolved that she would give her mysterious date five more minutes, the chair opposite her scraped back. Her head snapped up in surprise, and her mouth dropped open.

His blonde hair shone golden in the artificial glow, his bangs falling in his cerulean eyes in a way that made him look… captivating. Intriguing. Her own eyes danced over him, noting the slightly irritated expression painted across his features, the collar of his shirt hanging open quite tastefully, and how the white shirt itself seemed to match his frame perfectly. He raised a hand, running it though his hair, letting the locks fall back into ever so slightly out of position.

It was then that he looked at her, eyes giving off an apologetic glimmer. But the look was lost on her - Ichigo's mind was elsewhere. The answering gaze she fixed him with was dreamy, and trance-like. Something about him was different. A good different.

"Strawberry?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement. When she didn't acknowledge him calling her, he smirked. Figuring he'd wait out her stupor, he leant forward, propping his elbows on the table and cocking his head to the side.

Several moments passed, causing his smirk to grow. His gaze never left her perplexed face; he allowed himself to drink in every line, every feature. Yes, he would not want to forget this expression. But he realised this couldn't last forever, and once again, he tried to bring her attention back to earth. "Baka, if you keep your mouth open like that, you'll end up drooling. And I am not cleaning thatup."

This seemed to work; she shook her head, blinking twice. A quiet "nya" escaped her lips as the realization hit her. In an instant, her cheeks became a burning scarlet. A hand flew to her mouth and she redirected her vision to the tablecloth. Really, it was a lovely colour; a nice shade of beige - to match the lighting of the room - with, when you looked particularly closely, a rather beautiful floral design printed on--

"Baka Strawberry."

Ichigo's head darted up, ready to scold him for the use of her annoying pet-name, but her anger melted when she noticed him chuckling. Curiosity stirred inside her, and she subconsciously moved forward.

"Shirogane…?" she asked, incredulously.

His focus returned to her, and he nodded in response. She took this as a sign to continue.

"Why are you laughing?"

His face scrunched up in thought for a moment, then smoothed out as his usual smirk graced his features. "You were being a spacey baka. Next question."

"Next question?"

"Aren't you going to ask me what I'm doing here?" he pressed, folding his hands neatly in his lap and leaning back in the chair. He raised an eyebrow, a signal for her to pick up the question from there. For a moment she was silent, contemplating this. A finger rose to her lips and her brow creased with the effort of hard thought. Then it came to her.

"Shirogane?! What on earth are you doing here? Don't you have anything better to do? I'm kinda waiting for someone, you know! Someone who is exceedingly late…" she trailed off, placing her chin in her palm and glancing at the door. Therefore, she missed the brief look of worry that crossed Ryou's face. Though she did manage to catch part of his rushed mutter.

"What was that?" she asked suspiciously, eyes narrowed and tuned back in towards him.

He cleared his throat, twisting his head so that he was facing anywhere but her. A light, rose blush darkened his cheeks for a moment as he spoke. "I said: I'm sorry I was late. I didn't think you'd be here already."

When he caught her expression, his face dropped. "Don't make me say it again. The first time was hard enough…"

"No, no. You were late? What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"See, Strawberry, the definition of late is not arriving on time. Therefore, by saying I was late, it means I didn't--"

"No! I mean, what do you mean by you were late?" She cut him off, mid-sentence, stressing the 'you' part so he would understand.

He nodded, but remained silent. She waited…ten seconds…twenty seconds…thirty seconds…forty seconds… When over a minute had passed, and he still hadn't answered, she frowned, beginning to drum her fingertips on the table again. He sighed.

"Strawberry, if you haven't discovered it by now then… Minto did tell you who you were being set-up with this time, didn't she?" Her response was the bewildered shake of her head. Taking a deep breath, he said exasperatedly, "Me. Minto set you up with me." He raked his hand through his hair for the second time that night, only now, his cool, steady face was wild. Then, before Ichigo had time to react, he stood, swiveling on the spot and storming out of the restaurant.

Heads turned to watch the scene, as Ichigo was left dumbfounded in her seat, staring after the blond as he bolted. Some time passed before the catgirl was able to get a hold of herself. Suddenly, she grasped the situation, and a gasp escaped her lips. In a second, she too was on her feet and scurrying to the doorway, not pausing as she rushed past a waiter balancing a stack of plates on both arms, and nearly knocking him over.

A shock of cold air hit Ichigo as she ran outside. The temperature had dropped significantly during the three-quarters of an hour she was sat in the building. But at least the sky was clear, and therefore it would not rain. Snapping her head frantically back and forth, she tried to determine which side of the street Ryou had followed. He was nowhere in sight, and the streets here were short and had many turn-offs, so if she didn't pick the right direction now, she could lose him altogether. She bit her lip.

'Alright, Ichigo. This isn't hard. Just choose one… Ah! But which one? Um, ok, this should work: Eeny meeny miny MO!'

She found herself facing left. Immediately, she shook her heeled shoes off and began running. Reaching the corner, she half-expected him to be walking down the street still, so was a little surprised when she could see no trace of the boy. She halted, her shoulders slumping in defeat. He had gone the other way, she concluded. And running back now would be futile; he would already have rounded more corners and would be completely out of sight.

But maybe…? Maybe he had gone this way after all. A smile flickered across her face when she saw another corner about halfway down the road. She raced along, rounding it in less than a minute. Her smile broke into a full-fledged grin at the sight of his retreating form. Success!

"Shirogane!" she yelled. He stopped and spun, startled by the sudden noise. This gave Ichigo a chance to catch him, and she did so, coming to a halt at his side, panting hard and bending over slightly. It took her a few short seconds to regain her breath, and once she had done so, she straightened up, putting on the best 'kitty eyes' she could muster.

"Shirogane… what's wrong?" she asked, concern evident on her face. She stared at him, long and hard, trying to decipher his carefully concealed emotions.

He stared wordlessly back at her, hands shoved into his pockets, leaning back slightly on one leg. She knew this stance; it was casual, uninterested, and he always used it when he wanted to hide something. She snorted, a very Minto-like action, before hardening her expression and placing her own hands on her hips.

If that was how he wanted to play it, then she would comply.

"Shirogane?" she asked again. "Tell. Me. What have I done this time?"

Ichigo was prepared for his reaction - she was ready for the shouting, the glaring, the huffing, even the smirking. And the retorts. Yes, the sarcastic comebacks that seemed to fuel his words, dance on his tongue only to shoot off like sparks when necessary. It would come; she would be scolded.

So she was surprised when the first sound to meet her ears was a throaty chuckle. He looked at her, and as their eyes locked, she swore she saw his sparkle. But no, she shook her head, she had to be imagining it.

"What's so funny?!" she cried exasperatedly, throwing her hands up in the air. "First you're apologizing, then you're sulking, then you're scowling and now you're laughing? Will you just pick a personality and stick with it, please?"

Her response only caused him to laugh louder, and though it still wasn't as full-blown as a normal person's would be, she had to restrain herself from letting her jaw drop.

He paused for a second to look at her, cerulean eyes shining as the moonlight reflected off them. "Pick a personality? Am I schizophrenic or something? Look, Strawberry, I…" He trailed off, unsure, and Ichigo realised that for the first time ever, Ryou Shirogane seemed to have run out of something to say.

"Ooh! Shirogane! You're driving me crazy! What's wrong? Why did you walk out on me?" she stomped her foot, like a child throwing a tantrum, hands balled into fists by her sides. "Why can't you-" stomp "make any" stomp "sense?!" stomp stomp.

He raised an eyebrow, his trademark smirk gracing his features. "Well, why are you such a ditsy baka? Answer: because that's who you are. Can't you accept that maybe I just don't make sense? Or maybe, it's just you who doesn't understand?"

She growled, face turning red. Turning away from him, she stamped her foot again, before sighing and crossing her arms over her chest. "I hate Valentines Day," she muttered, recalling her night thus far. Suddenly remembering the shoes still in her hands, she bent down, slipping them back on her now slightly aching feet.

Though she couldn't see it, his expression darkened. "You're not the only one."

"I guess not," she sighed. "What's your deal, anyway? You still haven't explained to me what's going on. And you can add in the V-Day bit too, if you'd like."

"V-Day?" He rolled his eyes. "Valentines Day is an over-commercialized waste of time, that deludes people into buying expensive crap that will be forgotten about two days later, and going out to fancy places that would otherwise get no business--"

"Shirogane! I don't want your definition, I want your reason," she cut in.

Glaring at her half-heartedly, he continued, "I've never had a girlfriend or even gone out on a date, and I'm what? Nineteen, now? True, I've never gone out of my way to be with anyone, and most of the time it doesn't bother me, but this day… It just gets to me. Guess I've always wanted a date on this day, but I never bothered to ask anyone." He shrugged, seeming to toss off the explanation as though it didn't matter to him. But the way he did so… It was too deliberate, too forced.

"There's something else. Why, Shirogane?" she asked, curiosity peaking.

"Ichigo, just let it go. Please. Drop the subject and move on. Come on, I'll walk you home," he said, though his offer came across as more of a demand. However, she was not going to give up that easily. Didn't he know by now just how stubborn she could be?

Without thinking, she sat down in the middle of the pavement, a teasing smile painted on her lips. Ryou smacked a hand to his forehead. Silence passed between the two, each trying to guess what the other was thinking. Until, loud enough that it scattered some birds nestling nearby, Ichigo screeched.

"Minto's dress!"

Ryou's head darted up, scanning her. It was only now that he discovered the clothes she wore weren't her own; they couldn't be, it was obvious they were far too pricey than what her budget would allow, and that the person who bought them would have to have taste. Though, he had to admit that it did look nice on her.

The dress was a silvery blue in colour, fitting around her body snuggly, though not too clingy. Two thick, material straps continued from the top to wrap around her neck, tied securely in a knot to hold the cloth up. A bow sat on her right hip, serving as the only real decoration on the dress.

His eyes wandered, roaming over her face. There were subtle hints of make-up lingering around her eyes, and her lips were lightly glossed. The pale moonlight reflected off them, causing Ryou the need to inhale deeply. Her strawberry hair had been tied into two plaits that fell down her back, coming to a stop at her shoulder blades; it'd grown longer since he had last taken note. Her bangs were left untouched, framing her face neatly.

Then, all of a sudden, he shook his head, reverting his gaze to her eyes and locking their glances. "What's wrong with it?"

"Minto will kill me if it's dirty!" she wailed, throwing her arms up in the air.

Ryou rolled his eyes. "It's not that dirty. You can't even tell you sat down."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

"She'll kill me if you're lying."

"No she won't. Empty threats, baka."

"She said she'd make me wash her dress twenty times if I got it in the least mucky," Ichigo said darkly, pouting and folding her arms across her chest.

He shook his head. "Well we better get you home before anything else happens then. To the dress, I mean."

"The dress - is that all you care about? What if something was going to happen to me? What if I got hurt or dirty?" she asked.

"It'd be your own fault," he replied, shrugging it off.

She rolled her eyes in response, suddenly over her shrieking, and walked to his side. "Better get home then. If I'm out too late, my parents will get worried."

"They don't trust you?" he asked, his eyebrow rising in curiosity.

She smiled sweetly, shaking her head. "It's not me they don't trust." Without even needing to think about it, Ryou understood. Maybe getting her home in one piece was a smart idea, after all. Her father would certainly be more… calm?... if she returned without any impairments. Though her mother seemed to like him enough not to give him any hassle if Ichigo was past her curfew.

They began walking back along the street, heading in the direction of the restaurant they had both left so abruptly. Everything was quiet; people no longer bustled along the streets and the road was virtually void of cars. Many shops were closing, lights beginning to flicker out one by one. Reaching a certain fork in a road, Ryou turned left. Ichigo halted behind him. That road led to the park, but why would he want to go there, of all places?

Ryou glanced back, noticing her hesitation. However, it did not deter his pace; he kept walking, gradually lengthening the distance between them. It wasn't until he was quite far ahead, that Ichigo decided she may as well follow him. After all, maybe this was a shortcut. The red-head began running towards him, ignoring the strange sound her shoes were beginning to make. She would stop and remove them again when they arrived at the park - the soft grass would be more comfortable to walk on bare-foot than the hard, tarmac roads of the city. However, before she could reach him, she heard a cracking noise. Her nose wrinkled in confusion, but she kept running. Not a moment later, the sound of smashing filled her ears, and she suddenly felt her body take a dive forward. It didn't take long to register she was falling, so Ichigo screamed, bracing herself for the surely painful impact. But it never came.

"Nya?"

She opened her eyes, and found herself staring up into clear, sapphire irises. A gasp escaped her lips as she noticed how close he was to her; her body had been swept up, off her feet, and was now clutched tightly to his chest, his face hovering only a few inches in front of her own.

"Sh-shirogane?" she breathed, the air stirring around his face. He blinked once, tilting his head slightly to the side. The motion caused her to suck her breath in sharply, and a pink blush to arise on her cheeks.

"Momomiya…" he whispered, moving to lean closer. Her heartbeat raced, her eyes widened. Was he… going to kiss her? The colour in her cheeks darkened at the thought. Surely he wouldn't… would he? But his face was so close now, his lips were practically touching her own.

"…You're such a clumsy baka."

"Nyah?"

Ryou smirked, lowering her to the ground. A dazed expression danced on her face, as she landed on her feet, his arms still encircled around her waist to keep her from falling. And then, he waited. Waited for his comment to sink in, to hit her. Waited for the dreamy look on her face to fade, to disappear. Waited for the yelling, the screaming, the shouting, the uproar. But… to his dismay, none of it came. The corners of his lips began to droop, causing his smug, triumphant smirk to be wiped away. His brows came together, knitting in confusion, as one of his hands moved to tilt her chin slowly upwards so that she was looking at him directly. Her eyes were glazed, her breathing slow and steady. Goosebumps rippled up her arms as a gust of wind blew past, but she didn't shiver. The only movement her body made was one, tiny step forward, closing the already small gap between their bodies. Suddenly, her own hands moved, both being placed on each of his cheeks. Then, carefully, wordlessly, she raised her body up and planted her lips on his.

She didn't know if she meant for the kiss to be deep and passionate. She didn't know whether or not she was supposed to be this close to him. Her mind was clouded, tainted by the feeling of bliss that washed over her body. She felt weightless and lost, but at the same time safe and secure. The only thing she knew was that she didn't want this to end. But the hounding need for air grew, and she found herself parting from him, albeit reluctantly.

The first thing she saw were his eyes, filled with smug amusement, his eyebrow raised in arrogance. The next thing she saw, after averting her gaze down slightly, were his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her body securely to his. The final thing she saw were her own arms that had somehow twisted around his neck. And then it hit her.

Her eyes widened, and her mouth fell agape. "…Uh… I - uh - um… well--"

"Baka Strawberry. Shut up," Ryou cut her off, placing a finger to her lips to silence her. To his surprise, she complied, just blinking up at him innocently, and blushing. He sighed. "So, going to tell me what that kiss was for? Did you suddenly discover how great and amazingly good-looking I am and you just had to kiss me?"

"… Yes," Ichigo replied meekly, her lips moving against his finger. "I… I just… hey, why are you smirking at me like that? Shirogane, are you laughing at me?"

"I might be," he chuckled, patting her on the head. "Now come on, let's get you home."

"So you're just going to drop it? Just like that? No teasing, taunting, torturing, retorting?!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up as she watched him turn on his heel and begin to walk away for the umpteenth time that night.

"…No. You'll hear about it, again, I promise. Tomorrow. But for now, it's late and I think your parents want you home," Ryou reasoned, shoving his hands into his pockets and half glancing over his shoulder at her.

"Oh? And what makes you say that?" she persisted, cocking an eyebrow.

"Because," he began, "they're right over there."

Ichigo froze. Slowly, she turned her head to the direction he was meaning. A look of horror swept over her face at the sight of her father, fuming and red, being held back by her mother, and standing across the street from where she herself had halted. Not wanting to face the wrath alone, she quickly snapped her head back to Ryou, only to find nothing but air in his place. Clenching her jaw, and balling her hands into fists, Ichigo restrained a growl.

He had ditched her. Just like that. She mentally slapped herself for being so stupid. Of course, it was just like him to do something like this. Groaning, she realised he'd left her on purpose, to avoid a confrontation with her father.

"…and we are going to have a very stern talk about why it isn't appropriate for you to date boys. Especially on this day of all days--"

"Oh Dear, leave her be. She's obviously in love."

"Love? Love! I can assure you Sakura, my daughter is NOT in love."

"Come on now, can't you remember when we were her age? So happy together…"

Ichigo rolled her eyes as her parents words filtered in and out of her mind as they made their way over to her. It was going to be a long night of nothing but warnings about boy-safety, if her dad got his way, she concluded.

She sighed and bowed her head. As she did so, a glint at her feet caught her eye.

'Minto just had to give me glass slippers, didn't she?' Ichigo thought, stooping and plucking up a broken fragment. Smiling, she turned it over in her fingers, promising herself that she'd have to get Ryou back someday. And, she would also make it her goal to find out exactly why he didn't like Valentines Day.

Smirking, Ryou made his way up the cobblestone path, briefly glancing up in acknowledgement at the large pink café he was headed towards. He knew he'd end up suffering the catgirl's screeching protests the next day, but to him, it was worth it.

He dug his hand around in his pocket, searching for a certain object. Finding it, he clasped his hand around the item, before bringing it out in front of him. A small, golden locket sat in his palm, his mother's name engraved beautifully on the front. As he flipped the catch of the pendant, his smirk disappeared, being replaced seconds later with a sad, ghost of a smile. The images of his parents' grinning faces stared back at him, locked forever in their moment of happiness.

"Happy Anniversary, Mama, Papa."

A/N: Now, please click the nice little green button and review! All reviews are appreciated, especially con-crit!