A/N: no, the answer to the title is not penis. You and your dirty minds (or me and mine...)!

I realized there were no stories about MegumixMasao, so behold I decided to give one a try! I know these two are very well-liked...but give them a chance! Reviews are much appreciated.

edit: SRSLY? There's no tag for Masao on FF, but there's a tag for his GRANDPA? I'm not kidding. Well, I guess that sets the tone for how un-loved this kid is...

What Pretty Girls Get

Long before the dark plague descended on the serene village of Sotoba, a violent storm was brewing in the lonely heart of fifteen year old Megumi Shimizu. In her younger days, Megumi would stroll around town in bold black frills to reflect her distaste for the nowhere village and it's country bumpkin inhabitants, but as she grew older it seemed impractical to dress the way she felt everyday. After all, her favorite color was pink, and she never felt cheerful enough to classify her mood as rosy color.

I don't get it. She thought, her long pink nails digging into the bark of the fir tree she hid behind. It was February fifteenth, an especially poignant note in the sad song that was the young Diva's life. Though she had intended to reveal her feelings to Natsuno Yuuki (who was already painfully aware of them) the day before, she had gotten too embarrassed and chickened out.

She had spent the day too engulfed in her own struggles to even half consider her plain "friend" (if she could be called that). Megumi was sure that Valentines Day would mean nothing to the bland girl who always trailed behind her, but to her surprise Kaori brandished a box of chocolate left in her desk by some mysterious admirer later that day.

I don't get it. Megumi thought once more, her teeth gritting together, feeling as though someone had stabbed her precious pride. I'm so much prettier than Kaori...why would anyone leave her chocolate? It must be some sort of prank, right? Someone can't really like her over me, right? Natsuno had closed his window, preventing his pink haired stalker from gazing at him longingly, but still she look upon the window intently as if she could open it with the sheer force of her will. I don't get this village! It's not me who's weird...it's everyone here!

After a while Megumi decided to go home, leaving Natsuno's house and walking back in the darkness. In that thick black abyss that was nighttime, the pained girl could close her eyes and imagine that the dirt road she walked was paved, the wooden buildings were skyscrapers, and the Buddhist statues were street signs and lampposts. In her mind and in her mirror, Megumi was a diamond in the rough, a beautiful flower blooming in a patch of wretched weeds, waiting for the day when her prince charming would return her feelings.

Unfortunately for Megumi, that time would never come. The statues by the roadside would crumble and Natsuno's window would stay eternally sealed. In time, even the gates of heaven became barred to her.

"I...I died?" Megumi asked, sitting in the depths of the forest with only a bizarre, blue-haired stranger alongside her. The summer heat coupled with her unfashionable burial clothes made her uncomfortable, shifting her feet in the graveyard dirt as she awaited a reply from the man before her. Of course, he responded affirmatively, explaining to her what her rise from the dead would entail. Just watch, Kaori. Finally...I'm better...I'm the best! I was chosen to rise up...I'm too good for this filthy village, I'll drink it out until it's gone and then I'll move to the city! She thought, her daydreams running rampant after death.

Megumi devoured her victims in delight, paying back the villagers who had isolated her through her life. All I had to suffer alone...never having anyone who could understand my love for fashion, everyone laughing at me and teasing me...you're the ones that are weird! I just wanted to be pretty...and yet you all made me an outcast! She would think as warm crimson blood spilled from her victim's necks and colored her already glossy lips.

It wasn't long after she had been turned that she was reunited with Masao, an event which brought her no joy. "Just get out of here, will you!" She groaned, punching the lanky boy right in his ugly mug. "You're a horrible excuse for a shiki! You couldn't even kill your first victim, you're such a wimp! That's right, Tatsumi told us all about it! You're a weakling, Masao, you should have stayed dead!"

Masao held his cheek, reddened from her touch. "Shimizu..." He spoke, thinking all the while that her verbal (and physical) abuse was getting more violent as of late. What's up with her...? Masao wasn't a considerate person. He never received much love from his family, his brother's young child always earning more attention than him. He was an ugly creature, his eyes wide and beady and his body weak without the slender elegance that Natsuno possessed. The only friend he ever had was Toru, who was too distraught over Natsuno to pay him any mind.

"Well? I'm going to go hunt, are you coming?" The mercurial girl looked over her shoulder at her pathetic companion.

"Y-yeah." He nodded, scrambling to his feet and hurrying along after her. He couldn't help but like Megumi, despite the fact that he absolutely detested Natsuno and she adored him to a feverish extent. She was beautiful and strong, marching towards her own goals with an air of reckless abandonment that was somehow enticing to the loser shiki who followed her.

"Actually, I wanted to visit my house tonight." Masao suggested nervously.

"What? Fine. It might be fun watching you try to do something for once." Megumi snickered, letting him lead the way.

Cutting through the dark the two undead teenagers sent out for the sweet life-blood of the village's inhabitants. Before she was a shiki, Megumi would never had disgraced herself with Masao's company, but things were different under the cloak of midnight and the watchful eye of the moon. "Go on, Masao." Megumi urged, licking her lips in anticipation. So this louse will make his move tonight... She though as she and Masao sat in a tree outside a second story window of his house. The sound of his family clattered within, teasing the outcast they wouldn't even morn.

"What are you waiting for?" Megumi snarled. "Go on, kill them." Impatient as always, she wasn't going to be satisfied until she saw the stagnant black night painted a passionate shade of crimson. "Masao? Masao!" She put a hand on his shoulder, shaking the frozen boy in disgust. If he whimps out, I'm telling Tatsumi! That will teach him a lesson! She thought at first, until she realized that the boy was already shivering in her grasp. She unhanded him instantly, realizing with a great deal of discomfort what was going on.

"I really want to kill them." Masao sobbed, sloppy tears rolling down his homely face as he tried desperately to convince Megumi of a fact even he wasn't altogether sure of. "It's all their fault! They didn't even morn my death! I died alone in my room without anyone even noticing me!"

"Then you should kill them, idiot." Megumi pointed out matter-of-factly, as though his only option was obvious.

"I know, Shimizu..." He whined, "but..."

"It's easier to run, is that it?" Megumi jumped down from the tree. "Fine. Whatever." Even in high-heels, Megumi could storm into the dark before Masao had a chance to catch up to her. He sat in the tree, repeating her name as he watched the window of his estranged family. He continued to sulk in solitude, abandoned by both his family and the abusive, trendy vixen who had claimed him as her tag-along.

There's no one who can match me. Megumi bit her lower lip, a thin trail of blood dripping down her moon-pale skin. Despite her excessive pride, Megumi wasn't entirely wrong in believing that no one in the world could compare to her. She was strong, independent, determined, and unhesitating. She wouldn't be held back by the hum-drum morals everyone else in the village held so dear. She saw the world for what is was: an oyster for the taking (she thought it could be hers. In that respect, she was deadly wrong). Morals were just created by society, a pleasant illusion to control the masses. What point was there to following an illusion? She saw what was true, her own desires, and fought for them. She hadn't asked to become a shiki, but she made the most of it.

Masao was weak, a follower at best. Everyone in the village was the same. No one can match me. I'm just better than everyone else, they're all too pathetic! She thought, her sharp pink and black eyes flashing. There had only been one person she thought of differently, her dearest first love Natsuno. He would be different, she was sure. After all, as much as he hated her, the two weren't all that different.

Megumi skidded to a halt, fixing her high heels in the dirt as a person came into view. She was eager to kill but restrained herself, jumping behind a fir tree and watching the scene before her unfold, cloaked in the safety of darkness.

Kaori was walking down the street with her younger bother, talking modestly about her relationship as they moved cautiously along, baseball bats in hand. What? Did she just say boyfriend? Kaori has a boyfriend? I've only been dead a few months...when did that happen? Megumi's brow furrowed. Wait...Didn't Tatsumi say she's been around Yuuki lately...? That...That bitch! She couldn't... she couldn't have possibly...? Now that I'm dead...she went and stole Yuuki! A part of Megumi told her to move forward, to strike Kaori down , sink her pearly white fangs into the warm flesh of her neck, and rip out her jugular. She would watch in sweet gratification as the plain girl flailed around gracelessly, pleading for forgiveness she would never get or crying out for help that would never come. Part of her wanted to wrap her manicured hands around the frumpy girl's neck and squeeze every last drop of life from her, look her in those soft chocolate brown eyes as her kind heart slowed to a stop.

But she couldn't face her. She turned on her heel, running into the night, a flicker of passionate rose pink in the grave-shack of Sotoba. "Did you just see something?" Kaori tensed up, holding her bat firmly.

"Naw, just your imagination." Akira yawned. To Kaori, that's all Megumi was anymore, a paranoid spark of her imagination.

Megumi wasn't sure where she was headed. It's easier to run... is that what this is?She thought, frustrated with her own contemptible weakness. Her long lashes batted over her bright eyes, remembering how oddly.. enlightened Kaori had looked. Had she always looked that way? Was Megumi just realizing it then? Always, always, Kaori had been better than me! She thought of the village peasant bitterly, tears falling from her eyes like stars from the sky. She's always been content to live her life full domestically! She's completely ok with being subservient! She feels comfortable in those baggy old sweatpants! Even though I'm prettier...even though I'm so much prettier...she's the one who's always been loved! Just like Valentines Day...It's her heart! That's it! That sweet subservient heart of hers!

Kaori would never be as beautiful as Megumi. She would never be as glamorous, and she would never have as much confidence as she did. And yet Kaori had something Megumi would never have, either. She had approachability. She was considerate and humble, never afraid to admit when someone was better than her, and never boastful when she had accomplished something worth gloating over. It was that marvelous averageness-that chimerical kindness, that separated Kaori from Megumi. The girl who couldn't be matched. The girl who would always be alone.

At least, she thought she would always be alone as she scampered aimlessly through the night.

That's when a it hit Megumi-literally. In her dazed run she had slammed into a tree, her eyes shooting open and he arms instinctively shooting out, catching the older boy who came hurling down at her. Her knees buckled slightly at the additional weight, Masao thanking her in surprise. Her collision had caused the woebegone teenager to lose his balance and fall, but he had never imagined he would be met with her welcoming arms instead of the pavement. As soon as he thanked her she dropped him, letting him fall to the ground with a slight protest.

"Wah! Shimizu!...Eh?" He paused, looking into her fuchsia eyes, a stream of tears rolling down her flushed cheeks with the natural grace of a waterfall. "Shi...mi...zu...?" Masao wasn't sure what to say. He was terrible at comforting others, his intense self-pity had prevented him from ever seeing outside of himself. He stood up awkwardly, knowing she would probably punch him if he acted incorrectly. "Shimizu..."

He acted impulsively, just doing what he had seen in movies. He pulled her close, holding her against his own gangly frame. Eyes closed tight, he waited for her to push him away and slap him or kick him between the legs, but she remained stalk still. She smells so nice...He thought, blushing. The sweet scent of her perfume filled his nostrils, the press of her body soft against his. Megumi put one hand against his chest, the boy loosening his grip as she looked into his eyes.

Is this how it's meant to be...? Her eyes pleaded for an answer.

Masao put a hand to her blushed cheek, the sparkle of her rogue staining his palms. He inched forward with the shaky confidence of a virgin, Megumi quickly closing the distance and speeding up the kiss. Is this how it's meant to be? She asked again, finding confirmation in his gentle kiss.

Masao wasn't sure how to treat a girl, and he wasn't sure how to care about others, but when it came down to it, he really did have feelings for Megumi, and when someone's in love the rest just comes naturally. As disparate as they seemed, the two had more in common than Megumi was ever willing to admit. He was hideous and she was a virtual goddess, but the two of them had never been loved. She experienced the same ache in their death-frozen hearts, made outcasts of the only home they had ever known.

For all her pride, Megumi would never be the item of a city-boy's affection. She wasn't kind hearted or humble, but she was the kind of person she could respect. She was the best she could be, but extraordinary girls don't end up with equally prideful princes. They end up with people who can understand them, manage their dominance and respect their strength. They end up with people who won't laugh at their occasional flaws, but silently console them and know their feelings are the same.

Pretty girls don't end up with princes. They end up with artless virgins.