A/N: So uh I noticed that I draw my OTP a lot but I never actually write about them. Which is strange because I have a million headcanons and fic ideas for them. So if anyone even remotely likes this one-shot maybe I'll write a few more.

Anyway, thanks for reading. Reviews are always appreciated.

"—You seem kinda down today."

Well, it took him a whole fifteen minutes to finally say it. Fifteen minutes of walking next to her on their way home from school—in the entirely uncomfortable silence that filled the air. Though, Shiki, herself, didn't seem to notice the tense aura she was giving off. She only looked at the ground, or to the plush cat in her arms—completely and entirely lost in thought. Neku thought it might've just been in his head, but the irritating voice in the back of his mind kept telling him to confront her about it.

"Ah," Shiki replied, however, finally perking up from her transfixed state. "I-I do?" She forced a laugh, sounding anything but convincing. "Why's that?"

Neku sighed a bit, as she avoided his question right off the bat. "You've hardly said a word all day," he stated, "normally, I can hardly get you to shut up."

Again, she forced a laugh, rubbing the back of her head. With a fake smile, she replied, "I-Is that right? I... I didn't even notice." —She was lying. Blatantly, obviously. You know, for someone who'd whole-heartedly deceived for almost an entire week straight—Shiki sure was terrible at not telling the truth.

"C'mon," he said, giving a sigh—running his hands through the bright orange spikes on his head. "What's wrong?"

Shiki paused for a moment, as her smile gradually fell. She should've known she couldn't fool Neku. Regardless, she forced another weak expression, and waved her hand as though it were no big deal. "It's nothing new," she said, then quickly adding, "It's nothing you should be worried over."

With Shiki confirmation that she was, in fact, troubled over something—Neku felt himself growing more and more frustrated as she wouldn't tell it to him straight. "Well, I am," he snapped at her, more harsh in his tone. Shiki flinched a bit, though not exactly in fear—but surprise. And Neku, then realizing the fuss he was making, calmed down once again. He wasn't sure if he was frustrated with her, or with himself for getting so worked up over her. As a recovering misanthrope, this whole "friendship" thing was still pretty new to him. He gazed off to the side, perhaps a bit shy to ask about her feelings. "Please, Shiki," he spoke softer than before, "Just... tell me what you're thinking."

She perked up a bit, having sworn she'd heard those words before—though, not from Neku's mouth, but her very own. Let me in, tell me what you're thinking. Remembering the concern she'd felt for him, in their first few days of their meeting, Shiki paused. She swallowed hard before deciding it was only fair to tell him. "It's... It's just like I said." She gave a pathetic smile. "It's nothing new."

Neku paused. Wait... did she mean—?

He turned to her, suddenly alarmed, "You're not getting upset about... being yourself again?" He raised an eyebrow. "...Are you?" To which she was quiet for a moment, before looking off to her right. Shiki didn't respond; Neku had hit the nail right on the head. He frowned a bit."Shiki—"

"—I know," she said suddenly. "I have no right to be feeling this way. I'm... I'm only putting to shame everything I learned in the Reapers' Game."

Quick to correct her, he started, "That's not what I was—"

Though she cut him off, with her voice was growing shaky. "—But it's true," she said sharply. "I get a second chance and all I'm doing is putting it to waste. But... but," She lowered her head, feeling nothing less than ashamed and selfish. "I still... I can't help feeling this way."

Hearing Shiki beat herself up simultaneously annoyed and hurt Neku—in a way he was rather unfamiliar with, to say the least. Shiki thought it was irrational to still feel insecure? Neku thought it was a miracle that she'd been as optimistic as she was all this time. "Why are you still feeling like this?" he suddenly asked. "Is it... still Eri?"

"—No!" Shiki said suddenly, almost defensively—wanting anything but to pin the blame on someone else (much less, her best friend.) Neku, however, narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He crossed his arms, as if to say, "is that so?". To which she paused for a moment, her façade growing weaker and weaker, till it was almost non-existent. Giving in, she muttered, "...M-Maybe a little."

Aha! —Queue that twinge of annoyance running down Neku's spine again. Frustrated, he asked, "Why? What is it that you think Eri has that you don't?" A valid question, one he truly didn't understand the answer to.

But Shiki almost laughed and scowled simultaneously. Neku had known Eri long enough to see the difference between them. He was just humoring her by asking, wasn't he? "Where do I start?" she said bitterly. Thinking of a perfect example, she stated, "—We got our test scores back this morning. I barely got a C minus. Eri aced it."

"So? It was a difficult test," he protested. Shiki should've been happy she wasn't Beat. He got a 12 percent.

"But then, when we showed each other our designs at lunch—Eri asked me if she should change anything on hers. I said no—because they were all perfect already. So she just critiqued mine the whole hour."

"Just because she said yours weren't perfect doesn't mean they actually were," replied Neku defiantly, despite not having seen her designs himself. He knew he might've been a little bias, but he'd seen Shiki's designs before—and really, he thought they could've been done by a professional. Shiki just gave him a sort of sour look, however, knowing he's come up with any excuse to cheer her up. She then paused, though, as the biggest difference between herself and Eri, once again, reared its ugly head.

"...She's still beautiful, Neku," she said timidly, wanting anything but to acknowledge her appearance. "She always gets compliments; boys give her cat calls every day when we walk to school and—"

"—And, what? You're jealous of that?" Neku raised an eyebrow, putting his hand on his hip. "You want guys yelling crude comments to you when you walk down the street?"

"N-No!" she said, face flooding with the color of embarrassment. "I-I... I just meant..." Shiki hunched her shoulders, as the sad reality of what she felt sank in. "...No one's ever even so much as told me I'm pretty."

Neku was silent for a moment... suddenly realizing just how much he wanted to change that fact, right then and there. But instead, he, too, felt his cheeks turn pink. He said nothing and gazed away. The two held a long silence, until Shiki finally spoke again, overwhelmed with the lingering thoughts in her mind.

"It just... hurts," she said softly, stopping where she stood. Noticing, Neku did the same. "I try so hard to change, to stay positive, to like myself..." Tear drops gathered in the corners of Shiki's hazel eyes, she couldn't hold them back any longer. "But I always come back to this." She sniffled a bit, crying softly where she stood. Neku looked back to her in concern. Shiki hunched her shoulders, clutching Mr. Mew close to her chest.

The boy felt an intense, empathetic sort of pain in his chest as she cried—but he could only stand there with his head tilted down, and hands in his pockets. He felt... bothered again. But, by what? Shiki whining over herself? He wanted to say yes and just pin the blame on her, but he knew that wasn't really the case.

He was bothered that she was hurting. He didn't want her to feel as she did. Neku wanted, more than anything, for her to be happy.

"...Why?" she finally asked, speaking softly. "Why can't I be smart, and beautiful, and perfect like her?"

And feeling the greatest sensation of frustration, confusion, empathy, and every other emotion he hated dealing with—Neku couldn't stay silent any longer. He wanted to change everything she was feeling at that moment. Like a driving force, he almost needed to.

"...What's so great about being 'perfect' anyway?" he then said softly, sharply, a fine sense of hostility in his tone. "You act like having good grades and being a professional designer is all that defines you—it's not. And even though it isn't—you try your best. That's a hell of a lot more than most people can say." Though his words genuine and kind, he sounded somewhat bitter... until he spoke once more. "You've... You've done... a lot of things, that other people haven't."

As he'd caught her attention, she looked up a bit, rubbing her eyes. "W-Wha—?"

Still gazing away, feeling his face flood a deep shade of red, he swallowed hard. His words were shy, but he wanted her to hear them. It was so annoying having to actually tell her, but she was going to hear them. "—No one's been more of a friend to me than you have. No one in the entire world." No one was able to open his heart like she had; break down the walls he'd been building up for years—over the course of a mere week, no less. Not to mention, without Shiki, he'd literally be dead. And without her, he'd still be lost. Gripping his palms into fists, he asked, "That's... that's something, isn't it?" He sounded almost weak at that moment—wondering if she cherished their friendship as much as he did. "You're my best friend, Shiki. And I..." he swallowed hard, unable to finish his sentence as embarrassment nearly drowned him. "I—"

But Shiki could only stand there. Blinking; entirely dumbfounded. She was honestly touched by his few words. Even if he'd grown more open to the world since the Reapers' Game—he never quite wore his heart on his sleeve like this. He'd... never told her that she was his best friend. And honestly, while it was hard to explain—hearing that really did make her feel worth-while. Her expression weakened too; she spoke softly, "...Neku—"

Catching her off guard, he spun around and put his hands firmly on her shoulders. He looked her directly in the eye. He wore a rather, well, angry expression. Perhaps, as he was unable to convey exactly what he was feeling. With crimson cheeks and his heart beating fast, he voiced the words he'd probably punch himself in the face later for saying. But dammit, she was going to hear them.

"I think you're perfect, alright?!" he said, "You are perfect!"

Letting go of her shoulders, he was quick to turn the other way and continue walking ahead—leaving Shiki stunned and confused for a moment. It was hard to comprehend what she's just heard—but as she did, her face grew hot, her heart rate caught up with his. She looked to the boy walking ahead—but before she could even think of saying anything, he turned around once more.

"And you are beautiful dammit!"

After promptly kicking the nearest lamppost and letting out a loud, frustrated growl—Neku continued walking away in complete and total embarrassment. And Shiki could only stand there...

Smiling in the happiest, most serene way she'd ever had.

With tears no longer in her eyes, she eventually took a few fast steps to catch up with him. Neku knew she was there, but didn't have the courage to look back to her. He knew he was still blushing like an idiot, and he'd already embarrassed himself enough for one day. Unluckily for him, however, she was quick to agitate his fluster that much further. Shiki smiled yet, then spoke soft and sincerely.

"Y'know... I guess I'll always have one thing Eri won't."

Frowning, still looking away, he mused her. "A-And, that is?"

Suddenly slipping her smaller palm in his, Shiki cupped his hand lightly. He felt shivers go down his spine, though he didn't pull away. He looked over to her, seeing pink cheeks that nearly matched his. A smile graced Shiki's lips, as she lent it to the boy beside her. "—An amazing Partner like you."