#90: If the Shoe Fits
It had all gone wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.
She could still hear the rustling of ruffled skirts, pattering of heels, and the pulsing music that certainly did not scream sweet or ethereal to her. In fact, it just screamed. The punch bowl had been overflowing with everything but punch; Ami and Makoto had already left, feeling sick to their stomachs because of it; and worst of all, she'd somehow gotten tangled up in the ribbons of her mother's ugly high-heeled shoes and torn a gaping hole in her lovely snow-white skirt. All because she'd lost those perfect matching shoes of crystal, she had bought specially for this dance.
The fairy lights that framed the front entrance of her school now seemed as dull and weary as she felt. Seated on the front step, she crossed her arms in her lap and rested her head in them, not even noticing the sharp cold weaving its way through the night.
She then heard a throat clearing—once, twice. Slowly, she lifted her head and was sure her eyes were about to fall out of that same head.
"Uh, ahem, you left these at the Arcade. Odango," he amended holding out a box.
She stared up at him, her eyelashes still a little damp. She then shook her head as she shifted to hide the tear in her skirt. "Thanks Mamoru-baka, but I don't think I need them anymore."
Instead of leaving as she'd assumed he would, he studied her for a minute. "I thought you were excited about this whole…thing," he ended lamely, vaguely gesturing with his hands.
She shrugged, then reeled off: "Come to the Winter Formal, and get ready to live out a fairytale for a night. Yeah, right. My dad's tool shed is more of a fairytale wonderland."
He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to do or say to this unexpectedly cynical Usagi. She was starting to sound like…him.
Mamoru kneeled down so as to be eye level with her, as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. He wasn't quite sure why he was even here on this wintry night. Motoki had been a little too insistent about his delivering the shoes, he mused, but only because Mamoru had idly offered in the first place.
If only she would smile though.
"Well," Mamoru started hesitantly, aware of how strange this was for both of them, "I think I can solve part of the problem. From what I've heard, every fairytale princess needs her glass slippers to have a happy ending." He held out the glittering heels she'd left at the Arcade and smiled crookedly. She answered the smile, choosing to humor him and wear the shoes.
She made as if to take them but found that warm hands were already cradling her ankle. His touch was unexpectedly gentle. He deftly undid the ribbons of her mother's pleather shoes and replaced them with her own crystalline ones, slipping them on with care.
He looked up at her for a moment, meeting her gaze with an uncertain smile. How had they gotten here? How had they gotten to the point where one glance could make the ground unsteady beneath their feet? Where a smile, a touch urged a quickening of the heart?
"Perfect fit. At least you've got part of your fairytale, Odango."
She answered his smile, and it was like a star emerging at dusk.
He was wrong. Her fairytale was complete.
Please review! As you've probably noticed, I'm juggling a number of fics, so if you prioritize this fic, so will I. Thanks!