If any of you viewers are familiar with my writing, you will know how truly impressive it is that I managed to update this quickly. Don't expect this often, because I have exams in, like, two days, so yeah.

Disclaimer: I do not own Shugo Chara.

Chapter I

Bringing On the Snow

"Man, is it ever early in the year for snow."

I almost laughed, but then I realized that the cab driver was not making a pun; he was simply commenting on the irregular weather. I still wasn't used to this damp, wet, and dreary land; Louisiana was always humid and warm. Living here was going to be something completely new, a brand new start to a new life.

At least, that's what I liked to think of it as.

"It sure is," I agreed, only because I had nothing else to contribute to this conversation with a complete stranger.

"So she's not a mute," he chuckled, glancing back at me in the rear-view mirror. His eyes were the colour of coal, reflecting the light of the street lamps flashing by back at me.

"No," I smiled, settling further into my upholstered seat. "I just never have much to say."

"That's an odd accent you got there," he observed, and my face coloured. I knew that it wouldn't go unnoticed. I only hoped I wouldn't get made fun of because of it at my new school.

Ugh. School.
"It's a yat dialect," I elaborated, sinking even further into the seats that smelled faintly of mildew and cigarette smoke. "It's how we sound down in New Orleans."

"Ah, so you come from the land of Mardi Gras." Now he sounded genuinely interested instead of making polite conversation. "I've always wanted to visit. What's it like?"

"Pretty fun," I mumbled, staring out the window. "There's a lot of lights and laughter and families. It's honestly my favourite time of year." Unlike this place, where it seemed like a giant wave had crashed overhead and drowned everything in sight. Not that Louisiana wasn't like that; it was probably my favoured memories of my hometown that made me biased about the place.

The cabby didn't prod me for anymore, most likely sensing that I wanted to be left alone with my thoughts. I had never lived on my own before. Even the orphanage was filled with countless screaming kids, and everybody knew everybody. I had no friends here, no one to rely on. The only person I did know never wanted to even hear my name again, let alone see me. So I was truly alone in this place.

It wasn't like my family just completely abandoned me here; they promised to send me money every month to help with the rent for the cheap apartment they managed to find for me. They even set me up with a job and had all my stuff shipped here. They made me promise to call whenever I could, so even if I didn't make any friends, I always had them to talk to. Though, I had to admit, it would be a bit lonely.

Thinking about the whole situation as a whole, I realized that I may not be starting a "new life". What I came here to do, who I came to see… it was like I was forcing myself back into the old, reviving old memories and scars that should be kept hidden, like the knife slashes covering my stomach and back.

This town, that person… I came here to find myself, the one I had lost so long ago along with my father.

Silently, I watched the small, flying snowflakes slash by in flashes of white out the window. This town seemed like an embodiment of my name, even in late October. I wondered who I would meet here, what I would see. I wondered what awaited me in this entirely new place made of white, mush, and lights.

"We're here," the cabby said suddenly, jarring me out of my thoughts. I jolted in surprise, then glanced out the right side window to see the restaurant East Side Mario's, my new place of employment. The shrunken Statue of Liberty standing by the double doors holding a tomato gave me a very sour vibe, and not for the first time did I start thinking that this was a very bad idea. I was stopping by here first to check and make sure that everything about my new waitress job was negotiated, then I planned to walk to my new apartment from here… if I could get a map.

"Thank you very much… Sam," I told the cabby, checking his name tag and smiling. I handed him the required sum of money for transporting me to here from the airport, and he accepted it with a grin.

"Good luck, kid," he chuckled, tipping his newspaper boy cap down to me in a sign of friendliness. As I hauled my purse and suitcase from the trunk of the cab, I thought to myself, well, if I don't make any real friends, I'll always have a really friendly taxi driver. The thought was not very comforting, but it was something.

As the bumblebee coloured car swiveled away, kicking up mush and snow as it passed, I got a good look at the city I was now residing in. Everything seemed to slow down compared to New Orleans, with sluggish people trudging by in the thin layer of frosty precipitation. There were towering apartment buildings that appeared to be made of something like glass, reflecting the scene and unhappy people back at them. I seemed completely different from the people who paced by me, the way I dressed, how straight I stood. Oh, great. I hadn't even been here for five minutes and I'm already an outsider. Now I was incredibly hesitant to talk to anybody, let alone go to school and work.

But I couldn't give up here, not when I made it so far. I would make a life here. Everything would be alright. I pushed back my long bangs from my face, revealing my oddly coloured eyes to the world. They were the eyes of my father, and I was happy to have them as a reminder of the sweet and caring man that I so loved.

Using my back to push the double glass doors open, I backed into the Italian restaurant, earning some odd looks, and even more curious ones once people noticed how odd I looked, wearing ripped black leggings, a light white and gray plaid fall coat that cinched in at the waist, and shiny black Doc Martens. The restaurant was warm and smelled distinctly of tomato sauce and chicken, and I could hear consistent chattering from every corner and booth. Contrary to my belief, it seemed like a homey and welcoming place, with smiling servers and laughter booming from the bar.

The hostess standing at the podium looked at me curiously and smiled. "What can I help you with? Just one?" She asked.

I shook my head, white hair flying back and forth. "Oh, no, I'm not here to eat." Her eyebrows peaked at my accent, but I stood my ground. "My name is Snow Hisayuki, and I'm supposed to be working here starting Wednesday."

"Oh, you're our new waitress," she sang cheerily, sounding genuinely happy to have another pair of hands to help out. "Yes, everything is set for Wednesday. Would you like to speak to the owner?"

"Oh, that's alright. They must be busy," I laughed, feeling more at ease with this young, pretty girl being so welcoming to me. I had to remind myself that not everyone in this world is that nice, something I knew all too well.

"No, I'm not," said a small voice from beside me, and I turned and looked down to see a short and stout woman with close-cropped dark hair looking up at me. Her glasses were completely rectangular and rimless, giving me the impression that she meant business. Even though I was a head taller than her, I was fairly intimidated.

Which was fully justified when she spoke next. "Get out of the way. You're disturbing our customers." Oh boy, it was going to be a long working experience. "Come with me. We're going to my office."

I followed her through the bustling restaurant, dodging servers juggling numerous plates and trays. We were approaching a lone door beside the kitchen, which was filled with white-dressed chefs seasoning, frying, you name it. She pushed the door open and didn't bother holding it for me, so I had to use my back again, which made an 'oof' erupt from my throat. This all felt so surreal, being so far away from home in a busy restaurant with a grumpy boss. I could honestly say that a place like this was the last place I expected to find myself in.

The door closed behind me, and I faced her 'office', which looked more like a pantry with a desk, chair, and laptop stationed in the middle. She plopped down in the swivelling chair, and gestured for me to make myself at home on an empty tomato crate. With an internal shrug, I dropped my stuff down and sat on it gingerly.

She stared at me in silence for a moment, judging, scrutinizing. Then she opened her red-lipped mouth to speak and reveal some crooked teeth. "You're Snow Hisayuki, yes?"

I nodded.

"You're lucky that we just so happened to be looking for another server," she sighed, leaning back into the chair. "Otherwise you would've been out of luck. It's hard to find work in the city nowadays. Now, I'll go over some rules right now, but I'll get Louise to go over them with you again on Wednesday." I didn't even bother asking who Louise was. "First, do what the customer says. If they want something done with their meal, allow it. Don't you dare insult or threaten them, or you're done. Mess with the food and you're done. Sneak anything out of here without permission and you're done, got it?"

Frightened into silence, I could only nod again.

"Good. The standard uniform is all black. Black pants, black shirt, black shoes, get it or you're incompetent. We will provide you with an establishment tee shirt. I'm assuming your size is small."

It wasn't a question, but I felt the need to correct her before it ended up not fitting on Wednesday and I just made her even more cranky. "Large, actually. I'm tall enough to fit in one without it being baggy."

She glanced down at my chest, and seemed to think that there was another reason for that. "Right, whatever. So you know, tardiness or absences will not be tolerated under any circumstance. I don't care if you stayed up late because of school and are too sick to even get out of bed. Put on a surgeon's mask and get your ass over here. That is all."

I was surprised by how abruptly the briefing ended, but she didn't seem to want to waste any time. She was already getting out of her chair, and I scrambled to stand up and remain straight-backed in her presence. This was clearly a woman I could not show any weakness to. I'd have to keep that in mind.

She ushered me out the door, and I had to struggled to pick my luggage back up. Just before she kicked me out, she forced a mean-looking smile on her face and said, "My name is Julie Garrett, but I expect you to call me Mrs. Garrett."

Then she slammed the door in my face.

Mrs. Garret, not Ms. I pitied her husband, imagining that she was probably like a black widow spider.

I made my way out of the restaurant, trying not to meet the intrigued gazes of all who I passed. The smiling hostess waved goodbye to me and said, "See you on Wednesday!" I snuck a peek at her name tag: Louise. Well, at least I'd be working with someone who was nice.

Once I opened the doors outside, a blast of frigid air blew into the restaurant, and I caught some people shiver. But I didn't. I never got cold, not even once. I didn't know why; when I was young, I was pushed into the snow while play fighting like any other kid. But I didn't feel the cold. It just felt like a soft powder to me, nothing more. I could keep my hand in a snow drift for hours and feel nothing. And it wasn't like I could ask my parents whether my immunity to the cold was hereditary or not.

I stopped by the convenience store next to East Side and bought a map of the area. I was on my way to Crystalshire Apartments, which was apparently a fair distance away. Upon exiting, I would have to make my way through many a streetlight in the east direction, and they were apparently quite big, swanky, and easy to spot. Should be easy enough.

With a chime of a merry bell, I left the convenience store and looked to my right, the direction I believed east to be. I began sloshing through the mush with my purse hitched over my shoulder and heavy suitcase in hand, hoping to get there soon so I wouldn't have to carry it anymore. I strolled under the numerous lights giving the city life, passing complete strangers by who all gave me weird looks.

The sky was dark, little signs of stars peeking out behind heavy slate clouds. Little dainty snowflakes floated on by my face, getting stuck in my hair. But it wasn't like you could differentiate the two, considering that my hair was the colour of pure white snow itself. It was like my father's, yet another common trait with him that I relished.

After numerous turns, stoplights, weird looks, and unfamiliar area covered with towering buildings, townhouses, and establishments, I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and accidentally made someone bump into me. I apologized desperately, and they waved it off. When they walked off, I surveyed the area around me with a nervous expression. There was no doubt in my mind; I was lost.

I heaved a sigh. From a very young age, I had zero sense of direction. My parents had to walk me to school until the fifth grade. And even when I was supposed to walk to school by myself for the first time, using the same route I had every year prior to that, I still got lost. Some withered old man had to help me find my way, and then I got made fun of for being late. This time, it wouldn't be like that. There didn't seem to really be anyone around to help me, not a familiar face in a sea of strangers. Then I noticed two men standing a distance away, staring at me with a curious, probing gaze. They seemed friendly enough, wearing spiffy clothes and looking clean-shaven. So I trotted over to them, map in hand, and was greeted with two identical grins.

"Excuse me," I said in my light, quiet voice. They had to lean closer to hear me over the hustle and bustle of the crowd around us. Since they were close, I caught a faint whiff of alcohol on their breath. Don't freak out; I'm sure you'll be fine, Snow. "I seem to be lost. Could you tell me how to get to Crystalshire Apartments from here?"

"What's the rush?" One asked, slinging an arm around my shoulders. Chills ran down my spine, and I flinched away from his touch. I was embarrassed enough from having to ask for directions in the first place, and now I was being flirted with? It was already a bad start to my new life. "You could just come hang out with us for a while."

I could not believe he just used a clichéd line like that in front of me. I shrugged out of his grip, not even looking back. "Never mind. I can ask someone else." Damn, I was a bad judge of character.

"Don't think so," the other guy said, suddenly grabbing my wrist and pulling me back. I looked up at him with a wild look in my eyes. "You're coming with us. We'll show you a good time."

This cannot be happening. I had never seen such audacious behaviour before in New Orleans, men shamelessly flirting with woman and not even giving them a choice in the matter. I put all my strength in my arm and tried to wrench my wrist away, but his grip was too strong. There was a wicked look in his eye, accompanied by an evil glint, and then they were suddenly dragging me away from the crowd, into a little crevice of space between two buildings that smelt like dumpster and cats.

Son of a bitch. I desperately and furiously tried shoving them off, using my anger to fuel me. My luggage had been ditched at the entrance to the alleyway, and I looked back at it in despair, my vision going red with anger. This was utterly and completely stupid. I heard of girls getting raped and stuff before, but I never could've imagined that it would happen to me. Only, it wouldn't happen to me. I wouldn't let it. I wouldn't let two stupid drunks take my freaking chastity away. If I had to kick, scream, thrash, bite, whatever, I would get out of this. The whole situation was juvenile.

A piercing, cracking noise startled me out of my furious struggling. It seemed to take the attention of the guys away from me as well, since they whipped their heads back and started looking for the source. Then, all at the same time, we noticed it. Branches of clear ice with a blue and purple hue crawling up their legs.

Before they could even demand what was going on, the guy that had been holding me to the ground suddenly pitched forward to my side, landing right on his head with a sound of agony. I snapped my head up to check what was going on, and saw a silhouette of a guy holding up his leg like he had just kicked the man in the back and sent him sprawling.

The other one got up from kneeling and pinning me to the ground in a fury, making a fist with his hand, as if to strike my saviour. He easily dodged with a swift move away, jumped in the air, and with a little spin, kicked him in the back of the head, as well. My jaw was touching the pavement as I struggled to sit up. I had never seen someone move like that before, so agile and predatory. The darkness of the alley prevented me from seeing him properly, though by his height and lean body shape, he should've been around my age.

The two men were clearly unconscious, the first one with blood pooling under his head. I shivered at how familiar the sight looked to me, since I had been in a position like that once before. I almost pitied them, but they tried to have their way with me. So I would just turn a blind eye to an incident like this.

My heart was nearly bursting out of my chest with panic and fear. I hadn't realized how scared I was; I could only focus on how mad I was at their stupidity. To take my mind off of it, I turned to my saviour and said, "Thank you very much. I didn't know what I was going to do."

Even in the darkness, the light coming from the city beyond illuminated the rise and fall of broad shoulders. "It wasn't to save you. They were just annoying me."

Well, that wasn't what I had been expecting at all. His posture seemed tense, definitely aggravated and looking ready to pounce at any given moment. Maybe this guy was no better than the other two. Before I could try and make a quick getaway, he turned to me and asked, "Why were you talking to two guys like that, anyway? You must not be too bright."

Now I was getting annoyed. "I was lost, okay," I admitted with embarrassment, feeling with horror as my face coloured.

"Where were you trying to get to?" His voice was deep and mysterious-like, completely different from the boys I had always gone to school with. This guy, whoever he was, seemed very mature, and very strong.

I shrugged one shoulder, hesitant to admit that I was looking for what should've been an obvious apartment building. "Crystalshire Apartments," I said finally.

I could almost sense him raise his eyebrows.

"I'm new in town, okay?" I grumbled, a bit insulted. They couldn't be that obvious to foreigners.

"That's obvious," he snorted. My very thin thread of patience snapped, and I trudged back to pick up my luggage and start heading out. But just before I abandoned him in that dark alleyway, he called to me, "I can take you there."

I turned back slightly, intrigued by this stranger that seemed to be a walking contradiction. He said he only helped me because those guys were annoying him, but now he's going to show me the way to my new home? I didn't know what to believe. But one thing was for sure: this stranger, whoever he was, was an enigma.

"Would you really?" I asked cautiously, folding in on myself slightly, as if to encase myself in a protective little shell. "Why should I trust you?"

"Because," he began, striding forward with long, lithe legs. Little by little, light was being shed on his mysterious and tall form, even taller than me. I warily hitched my purse over my shoulder and clutched my suitcase in my hand. He was right in front of me now, his presence intimidating and cold. "I would never even think of touching a girl like you."

He fully stepped out of the alleyway, leaving me and my slack jaw to stare after him dumbly. I numbly followed after him, willing to at least give this guy a chance, because he was a total jerk and clearly had no intentions of even trying to be kind to me. So that meant that he wasn't lying when he said that he wasn't going to do anything… I hoped.

Once fully illuminated by the streetlights again, I took a deep breath to calm my rapid heartbeat. Everything was okay now. I was safe, and those guys weren't coming after me again. I would be alright. With that in mind, I let my eyes travel up to my saviour standing at my side.

And then they nearly exploded from my head.

Judging from his height and form, I knew he was a guy around my age. What I didn't know was that he was an insanely gorgeous guy around my age. He was definitely tall, with coiled, lean muscles that showed through his dark shirt underneath his light fall coat. His skin matched the snow falling from the sky, the flakes getting caught in his stark contrast of wild, blue-black hair. He stared ahead with a bored expression on his smooth, angular face, his cobalt eyes flat and emotionless. White puffs of breath were shooting out from his mouth as he breathed serenely, and I quickly gathered my bearings so I wouldn't get caught drooling at him.

There had been attractive guys at my old high school; there seemed to be some at every one. But I had never seen a guy looking like this, all light and shadow in one attractive bundle. I wondered curiously who he was and if he went to my school. He looked about seventeen or eighteen, the same age as me or younger, so it wouldn't be much of a surprise if he did. Suddenly I wanted to know what his name was, and why he was bothering to help me when his expression clearly said that it was only troublesome.

He had been waiting patiently for the crossing light to turn green, and began striding ahead when it did, being propelled to a fast speed with his long legs covered in dark jeans. I struggled behind him, my suitcase wearing me down. Since I was getting a good look at his broad back, I could see a case hitched over his shoulder, looking to house either a violin or an instrument like it. So he was a musician. I wasn't even going to get into how appealing I found that.

"Do you play?" I asked him, hoping for just some polite conversation. We had finished crossing the street when he suddenly made a left turn down another mushy sidewalk.

He seemed to almost forget that I was there, but then he glanced back at me curiously. Almost imperceptibly, his eyes widened a fraction, then he looked away again. "Not professionally," he responded, not looking back again.

"It's still pretty amazing," I mumbled, almost to myself. "I have never heard of a teenager playing the violin before. It must be hard."

He shrugged, the strap to the black case falling down a fraction before he pushed it back up his shoulder. "It used to be. Now I just play it when I want to, and it comes naturally."

I found this intriguing. I thought that he was a completely rude and disinterested guy, but he might be another case of having 'hidden depth'. It fascinated me how he only played when he wanted to, not because he had to. He struck me kind of as the rule-breaking type in that way.

He glanced back at me for a second, then whipped his head away again. "Where are you from? You speak weirdly."

I bristled like an angry cat. "I just moved here from New Orleans, thank you very much. It's a yat dialect."

"New Orleans?" The deep, bored tone of his voice transformed into something that faintly resembled interest. "What brings you all the way over here?"

"I have some… business to take care of," I muttered hesitantly, allowing my gaze to wander away to the tall buildings and lights. Thankfully, he didn't ask for any more information than that, probably sensing that it was a difficult topic to ask a stranger about.

Instead, I focused on the way we were going, trying to imprint the direction and path into my memory so an incident like that never happened again. The only thing that was really note-worthy was a park nearby, with weeping willows skimming the ground with pointed leaves and a little pond that had the beginnings of ice forming on it, little claws trying to race to the middle to freeze it over. I could see couples sitting and snuggling on benches for warmth, and I looked at them with blatant disdain. Throughout eighteen years, I had never had a boyfriend. Sure, I had giggly little crushes like any other girl about the hottest guy in school who was way out of my league, but other than that, I had no romantic history to speak of.

It's not that I wasn't interested in it, per se; it was more like I could never bring myself to truly fall for someone, to trust them wholly and completely. Boys were most likely the same way with me, considering that I had been told on more than one occasion that I was hard to approach. I didn't understand why; I was an open book who had no problem with smiling and laughing. What did they know?

"We're almost there," the guy in front of me said, bored once again. I snapped out of my reverie, looking around to see if I could notice the apartments I was meant to be living in from this day on. After a few heartbeats of scouring, I finally understood why I was looked at with scorn when I said that I had gotten lost trying to find them.

With a blinking bright sign that clearly read 'Crystalshire Apartments' even from a distance away, this place was impossible to miss. It towered over the rest of the buildings, and appeared to be made of a substance that resembled black glass. There was an aura of light around it, the individual apartments shining out and appearing to give it an air of magic. I rummaged in my coat pocket while trying not to stare at it open-mouthed, and eventually managed to dig out the slip of paper my mother gave me with the floor and unit number I was meant to stay in. But knowing me, I would get lost in the actual building.

I bit my lip and looked at the building again. Even though it looked all extravagant from the outside, I imagined that it would be really lonely to live in by myself. Legible as I was to take care of myself, I would always miss my mom's home cooking, Dad's scent as he walked back inside from the deck after puffing on a cigarette, my sibling's squeals and giggles. I was so used to a lot of noise, both from the orphanage and my adopted family. Fear suddenly began coursing through me, from the unknown future and the past I was going to confront again.

"Problem?" The guy in front of me asked, looking back only slightly. Even though his deep voice didn't reflect it, there was a spark of kindness in his eyes, one filled with sincerity and curiosity. It was one rare to find in anyone nowadays, and I was glad to have met this man, even for a short amount of time.

So I smiled as brightly as I could at him, flashing my perfect white teeth that required no dental work. "I'm fine," I said, touched by this stranger's concern and aid. "Thank you so much for helping me. I probably would've been wandering out here forever if you hadn't found me."

"Or been made into those guy's toy," he snorted, and the touching moment I had thought we'd been sharing was completely shattered by his poor attitude. I pursed my lips in irritation and flipped my head away.

"I'm so sorry that my almost having my chastity stolen away was such an inconvenience for you."

"Of course it was," he chuckled, and I was surprised by how much I liked his laugh, even if it was because he was insulting me. We had finally made it to the sidewalk in front of the apartments, and I honestly felt like a fruit fly in their towering majesty. If something wrong were to ever go down and cause this thing to fall, half the town could be taken with them. My legs shook slightly, but not from the cold, of course.

The guy suddenly turned around to face me, and looking at him head-on was way more shocking than I thought it would be. He had a certain mischievous arch to his eyebrows, a little twinkle in eyes of deep midnight. There was this little cat-like grin on his face that spelled trouble with a capital 'T'.

He was suddenly very close to my face, so close that I had no choice but to stare right into his eyes and marvel at the length of his eyelashes that girls must've killed for. I could even smell him, a faint minty scent that without a doubt came from soap, and something spicier and more rustic. My heart was in my throat, eradicating any hope of breathing properly, as he gently lifted a strand of my white hair, held it to his lips, and grinned against it.

"That's my job," he continued, and I realized that he was probably one of those guys that teased and played with women just for the hell of it. Before I could stumble over what would've undoubtedly been a poor retort, he pulled away again, and my face was able to drain some of the blood from my cheeks.

"The name's Ikuto," he said with the same smirk, looking down at me with something like interest in his gaze. "And I guess I'll be seeing you around…?" He was waiting for my name. I didn't know if I wanted to give it to someone like him, who apparently had moodswings like a woman on her period.

But he did save me, after all. He also helped me because I was hopelessly lost. So I jutted my chin out at him to show that I wasn't weak or giving in to his games and said, "Snow. Snow Hisayuki."

"Well, it suits you, if nothing else," he chuckled again, and I had to strain myself not to smack him. "See you later, Snow."

As he began striding away, completely cool and infuriatingly confident, I called after him angrily, "I don't remember giving you permission to address me so informally!"

The only sign that he heard me was the rumble of his shoulders that surely meant he was laughing.

Whoever this "Ikuto" guy really was, he really was a paradox. And even though he almost drove me to drink, I couldn't help but look back at his retreating form only to see that he had completely disappeared. The only sign that he had been here at all were large, guy footprints in the thin layer of snow left by his boots, accompanied by some very, very small…

Cat paw prints?

Aww yeaah, Crimrose got Chapter I finished! Please leave a review to tell me what you think! And I know it's starting off slow, but it'll begin to kick of soon, I promise (but still, exams. So beware)! See you in Chapter II!