Sorry for the long, long, LONG delay (yes, I know, it's been over a year). I've just finished high school, so I kind of needed to focus on that. I hope you can understand and not hate me!

Anyway, these one-shots are my Writer's Block cure, so I just need to come back to them from time to time, right?

There's some sad ones in here, sorry about that. These ones aren't as good as my other ones, but I hope you like them anyway! They're also mostly Shiki-centric, whereas my other ones were usually Neku-centric. I wanted to branch out.

Disclaimer: I don't own WEWY. I cry myself to sleep over it almost nightly.


inspiration: A Song for the Dead by Queens of the Stone Age
- -

"Do you realize how morbid we are?"

That statement was enough to make Neku stop in his tracks and stare at her. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "We met when we were dead. Our entire relationship is based on the fact that we died." She shuddered a bit and pressed closer to his side. "We're like, closet necrophiliacs, or something."

Neku snorted derisively. "Seriously? That's kind of sick, Shi."

She blushed and glared simultaneously, both flattered by the casual shortening of her name and annoyed at his response. "It's true! We're so weird!"

Neku shook his head and they walked on.

The next day, he bought a new car. When he took her out that night, he picked her up in a herse.
- -

inspiration: Machine Gun Baby by Meriwether
- -

He knew that she was dangerous. When he'd met her in the game she'd been happy-go-lucky, ready to take on the world, irrepressible and optimistic. She'd annoyed him with her light, her "it's okay" attitude. But after a while, he started thinking that way himself. Her way of thinking was infectious, and he had willingly swallowed her poison and discovered that it wasn't poison at all, but an antidote.

She, on the other hand, ate a different sort of poison; the venom that the big guy, Higashizawa, left little trails of in her heart. He told her she was jealous, heartless, cold. He told her that she wasn't worth anything. And she had believed it.

Since leaving the game she had become more and more isolated, more and more frozen. She lost herself in fits of self-destructive behaviour. She had slashes on her wrists, alcohol on her lips, and deadened eyes.

But Neku stayed, because she had chosen him. Somewhere in her heart, she loved him.

And God, he wouldn't be the one who abandoned her.
- -

inspiration: Histrionics by The Higher
- -

They were walking together, which they did rather often. Holding hands, smiling, talking about this or that or the other thing. Then the deranged-looking man appeared as if from nowhere before them, waving a gun, and they both knew what would happen.

They looked into each other's eyes as the gun flashed. History repeats itself, after all. And it wasn't as though they could die that easily.
- -

Reasons [WARNING! SAD]
inspiration: Noro by Brand New
- -

The harsh, high-pitched beeps were the only background noise to his breathing, the two sounds mingling into one depressing soundtrack. She sat beside the bed in a cold, uncomfortable chair. His hand was in hers, and she noted, not for the first time, how much weight he'd lost. She felt the familiar pressure behind her eyes and squeezed them tightly together, so tightly that they hurt. But the tears stayed locked within her.

She hadn't cried yet. She wouldn't start now.

"Why . . . are . . you still . . .?" Neku's voice trailed off pathetically. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. Even in this thin, weak state, he was still the man she loved, the one she had loved for nearly twenty years.

"Because you're my everything." She didn't like the sound of that, so she started over. "Because you're you, Neku. And you're the only person in the world I really care about."

His eyes closed slowly, but she detected a small smile on his lips. "That's good . . . enough . . . for me." he mumbled vaguely, slipping back into sleep.

She held his hand, and all she heard were the beeping of the monitors and the sound of his breathing.
- -

inspiration: By My Side by 3 Doors Down
- -

"It's not that far away," she said for the umpteenth time, trying to coax the frown from his lips. It didn't work; he was too focussed on the boxes of Shiki's belongings that were being loaded into the back of her mother's green mini-van (her dad drove a red Mustang and refused to admit that the van belonged to him).

"Two hours," he grumbled.

She sighed. "Look, Neku, we knew this day would come." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, giving him a no-nonsense look that he ignored. "It's university, it was bound to happen eventually."

"Yes, but why couldn't you stay local, like I am? Why do you have to move two hours away?"

She smacked him on the shoulder. "You know that they don't offer my program around here!"

He sighed. He did know. He was just trying to delay the inevitable. "This could be the last time you're here by my side." he lamented sorrowfully.

Shiki rolled her eyes. "Don't be such a drama queen." Then she wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. "You're coming up on the weekend, right?"

He hugged her back, tightly. "Of course I am. It's only two hours away, after all."
- -

inspiration: On the Cross by the Used
- -

Shiki called him on a Sunday morning, which was unusual. Usually, she was at church. Usually, he was sleeping.

"What`s wrong?" he asked groggily, sitting up in bed. "Aren't you supposed to be on your knees right about now?"

"Pervert," she snapped. He grinned. "I left."

That wiped the grin off his face. "You just walked out of church?"


"Wow. Why?"

"It's just all so bogus, you know?" He could hear her frustration in the way she clipped her consonants short, an endearing vocal trait of hers. "I've seen what happens after death. It's nothing like heaven or hell." He thought about that for a moment; he couldn't deny that she was right. He opened her mouth to tell her so, but then she spoke again. "Besides, the only thing I worship now is you."
- -

inspiration: What's it Feel Like to be a Ghost by Taking Back Sunday
- -

"What does it feel like to be a ghost?" he asked her, one day when they sat together in her bedroom, listening to music. She looked at him quizzically. "Doesn't it ever feel like you're not here?" he continued, making his earlier question a rhetorical one. "Like sometimes people look right through you, and you could just evaporate and no one would see?"

She tilted her head back on his shoulder and bit the inside of her cheek, thinking. "I guess so," she said carefully, after a while. "I mean, I feel like that sometimes. But then I think about the people who can see me, and the other people don't matter." He breathed in the scent of her hair while she spoke. "I mean, as long as I'm real and tangible and here for Rhyme, and Beat . . . and you . . . then that's all that really matters, right?"

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her shoulder. "Right."
- -

inspiration: Knights of Cydonia by Muse
- -

She awoke, sweating and shivering, from the dream. It wasn't a nightmare, not really, because nightmares implied things that weren't real. The things she dreamed about now were real, and she'd experienced them, and she had somehow survived.

She kicked herself out of the tangled covers — which had tied themselves into a series of complicated knots while she tossed and turned in her sleep — and moved directly to her window. Even though it was January and a light snow was falling, she slid the glass across and let the cold air blow solidly through the thin mesh screen and over her exposed skin.

She stared at the stars, thinking. She had fought and survived, over and over and over again. She had felt the pain of losing dear friends, she had felt the fear of knowing your own death was right in front of you, and she'd survived. But not alone. She could never have done it alone.

She stared at the stars, thinking, knowing that halfway across town, he was doing the same thing.
- -

inspiration: Who's Got It? By IllScarlett
- -

He watched her from a distance, feeling slightly uncomfortable about the sheer number of people that milled around him, singing along with her angelic voice. He wished they wouldn't; he had braved the throng of tweens to hear her, not their pale, off-key imitations of her.

Shiki had miraculously become a rock star, seemingly overnight. Def Märch had heard her singing along to one of their songs while she and Neku listened to his iPod, and they decided that her voice would be the perfect addition to their band. So they'd recorded a new version of that particular song with her singing, released it, and now she was famous. Just like that.

Neku couldn't help feeling a little bit possessive as he watched her. He noticed that several boys near him were watching her with hungry expressions in their eyes, and he smirked.

Shiki may have suddenly gained fame, popularity, and a massive fan base, but Neku had Shiki.

Who was the real winner here?
- -


I've just been looking over my old stories and realized that they are really hard to read because of the formatting, so I've tried to fix it up for this one.