~*Number Two: Complicated*~
She's grinning and shaking her head, trying to hide how uncomfortable she is. Shiki loves fashion as much as Eri, if not more. She primps and preens and combs her hair and teases a needle through tangled fabrics, somehow creating beauty from a mess of cotton and satin and silk. She feels proud, at first, but it soon becomes apparent that Eri is just so much better than her.
No one remembers the girl that was up late working on that dress, everyone only recalls beautiful, fashionably flawless, impossibly perfect, Straight-A Eri at the Prom in it. Shiki secretly hates this fact, hates it with her entire soul, and something inside of her starting twisting and dying and she never could look at her best friend the same way again without a tiny portion of her screaming in fury.
Really, she feels confused more than anything. Eri's reassurances that she took them off the paper clashed with her own image of worthlessness, and her heart rebels against what it thinks to be true.
But she's Eri, and she's Shiki, and as long as they're together she supposed she'd somehow get along without all the attention.
Because a part of her knows she's jealous.
And this scares her more than the car that took her life.