A/N: Writer's block, man!! So, I got Persona 4 (finally!) from my father along with the CD Soundtrack and art book on Wednesday. I'm a little halfway done; I recently defeated Kuma's and Rise's Shadow, and finished Yosuke's Social Link . My favorite pairing for the moment is Souji x Yosuke. It's my new squeeze. So, anyway, this is a piece of random writing. Even if its half-assed, I hope you like it, at least a little.

Characters and series © Atlus & Respective Owners

. . .

Find yourself lost

in the sea of confusion

only to be fished out once again.

. . .

I.

Beauty was a flower with wilted petals; a being so delicate it required every inch of love in your heart to keep it alive.

If that was so, then Saki Konishi was gorgeous.

From a pessimistic perspective, maybe Yosuke did not know how to love at all. He didn't understand what made women tick, or their visible expressions when females got angry. Maybe Yosuke didn't understand that there was such a thing as two-faced people. The human heart is a funny, yet complex thing. You could be smiling on the outside, but be screaming on the inside, or worse. Hanamura understood that concept when he first set foot into the peculiar world of the television, hearing those spiteful, ugly voices blathering nonsense— "It's a lie," Yosuke interjected, all too quickly to be truthful —going on about how Saki was a virago, and how she hated working at the department store.

"It's a lie."

And in the midst of those distasteful words, shouting and muttering all at once like music recklessly clashing together, Yosuke could hear something.

But Souji had trouble making out those words. It seemed as if it was only intended for Yosuke to hear.

"He's... such an ass."

And he felt the world come crashing down.

II.

If you were inside the television, wouldn't that mean you would be able to rewind yourself?

Stop. Rewind. Play. And live it over again.

Reliving something that you missed the first time, Yosuke pondered as he stacked various canisters and boxes on top of one another, hazel eyes examining his work sharply for the slightest imperfection as his subconscious was occupied. He woke up from his engrossment upon hearing Souji shout over his shoulder that he was working uncharacteristically hard, and that his brain might explode. The corner of his lips, almost hurting from not giving his usual smile, finally upturned into a grin. His leader, always making jokes, always being the shoulder to lean on for everyone.

No one wants to lean on me.

Yosuke laughed, but he was oblivious as to how forced it sounded.

III.

"Are you okay?"

Annoyed, Yosuke looked up from his studies, finding himself caught in the pensive glance of Satonaka Chie. He winced at the inquiry, since he was used to bottling things up and keeping his problems away from everyone else's. It felt as if the question almost pried him open by force.

"I'm fine," he reassured with a quirked brow, tapping his pencil on his desk as he went back to being lost in thought. After a moment of bearing those piercing eyes of his companion, he sighed in relief as Chie left him to work, hearing her sneakers squeak against the floor as she tagged along with Yukiko. He couldn't help but overhear that Chie was explaining to Amagi that he was in "one of his moods." He scoffed a muttered complaint, something along the lines of Chie always blabbering about things that weren't her business.

"...Are you okay?"

Yosuke snapped up— then backed down. He was surprised to see Souji ask the same thing. He restrained himself from giving off an exasperated aura from being asked that query twice.

"I'm okay."

No, alright? I'm not okay. I'm just not.

IV.

When you're young, everything seems like a fantasy. You wonder how men can do flips, or how birds can fly and we can't. Parents fill your head with fairy tales to make the bad things go away, like they're never even there. But when you get older, those fairy tales are the fantasy. Things become technical and scientific, you experience hatred and jealousy, and before you know it, there are no more fantasies to escape to. No more stories to listen to in order for the bad things go away.

But magicians can make anything happen.

It was more than a coincidence that Yosuke was assigned the Magician Arcana, well, the title of the Arcana anyway. In fact, he was marveled by magic tricks, like animals popping out of a random person's clothing, or when flowers appear in your hand, or when things appear and disappear.

Disappear.

Something he wished to do when Souji finally witnessed him snap.

V.

Yosuke liked music. He placed his headphones over his ears, listening to the recurring beats and tempo of his CD player as he biked, as he studied, as he fought.

Maybe it was just to block everything out, mostly the noise.

He hated that static-like noise that seemed to blast into his ears when turning on the television. He hated the constant chattering and gossip that was around him that gave people bad reputation. He hated the complaints he got from those slacking employees, always asking him for them to get a raise. He hated the cries the girls of the team exclaimed whenever a fellow teammate got hurt. He hated his own heartbeat that hammered in his chest, a sound so loud that he could swear Souji would hear from across the battlefield.

The music was relaxing. In essence, it distracted him from those troubling thoughts.

That's why when someone pulled off his headphones in the middle of a brawl with several Shadows, he almost threatened to hurt them. But he was startled when Souji slapped him.

"Pay attention, Yosuke. You're bleeding."

VI.

Chie was nice. Yukiko and Rise, too, but he was used to Chie. Yosuke might've developed a small crush on her when she was the first to approach him.

Souji and he were in the food court at the Junes Department, consuming succulent grilled steak and icy sodas. They talked about diverse topics, some serious, other completely unorthodox and could only be understood between the two. It made spending time with the silver-haired classmate so enjoyable with the fact that each of them held their secrets until the day they die.

Before Yosuke could eat another bite of his nourishment, he placed his plastic utensils down, leaning in rather closely to the individual that sat next to him. "So, which one's your type? The girls, I mean..." Sure, he asked that question one too many times, but he still wasn't sure if Souji changed his mind frequently about them or not. After a second of giving it thought again, he predictably replied with a smile, "All of them." Then, "How about you?"

"Ha ha, Chie," Yosuke answered with a confident expression and a wink, a fist shoved up in the air to punctuate his choice. He half-expected to be asked the same in return; Yosuke adapted to thinking ahead when it came to Souji.

But then he noticed Souji's rather doubtful air, a look of scrutiny thrown his way.

"Stop thinking about Saki-senpai, won't you?"

VII.

Children are the world's innocence with arms and legs attached.

Yosuke swore he saw Nanako with a pair of angel wings when illuminated by the sunset creeping in from the blinds behind her. The way she presented herself to other people, always cautious, yet friendly, was enough to blow the rain away. People loved her, and Souji loved her. And after the uncountable times of being invited over to Seta's house, even Yosuke began to love her, too.

"He talks about you, you know," Nanako said, fingers tracing the edges of the low-lying table in the living room as she watched the Weather Channel. "A lot." She didn't seem disappointed or irritated of the constant conversations of him, more like touched. A friend of 'big bro's' was a friend of hers, he remembered her say once.

Yosuke couldn't help but chuckle. Was he really a topic worth talking over with your sister? "...What about?"

What he expected was a smile on her features, imagining Souji discussing about how bad his grades were, or how he always crashed into the trash cans every morning.

But it wasn't.

"He said you were hurting inside."

VIII.

He couldn't believe it.

He was confiding in his best friend through endless tears.

Yosuke's shoulders trembled as he scolded himself, trying to find calmness somewhere in that head of his, somewhere, anywhere, but to no avail. How stupid, he thought, how girlish he felt for expressing his feeling of hopelessness and remorse. At this point where his heart swung between hatefulness and self-pity, blurred images of Saki-senpai flashed through his mind, some pictures better than others through quality, like a broken television with bad reception.

This was all her fault.

Slender arms wrapped around his waist, holding him gently, but at the same time, so sternly and protectively. He denied the rushing blood pumping to his cheeks and let out a growl, mostly from the anger tied by embarrassment. But all he could do was close his eyes and rest his head on Souji's shoulder as he tried to silence his sobs, all the while scowling through the tears.

"You dumbass... That's for girls."

In the back of his mind, he could hear Saki's once unheard screams intermingled with his suppressed ones.

And through the silence, he knew Souji was silently screaming at him.

...It hurts, dammit, he thought, and said so.

IX.

He overlooked the town, forearms pressing against the wooden fence that marked the boundary between him and the edge of the cliff. He told Souji that he wanted to talk to him, and he ended up bringing him here.

Though he agreed that this although was the right time— Damn that Souji, always being absorbed by Rise and everyone else! —it was the wrong place. His surroundings seemed too secluded, too... romantic? It was an extraordinary sightseeing place, and was very provocative.

It reminded him about his dramatic changes in life.

Yosuke said that he used to hate the place, after staring out to the pecuniary town below them for a while. When he was new, everything seemed so boring, so insignificant. Even Chie, even Yukiko... they were just there, and he just didn't really give that much of a damn. Until he came along, and made everything matter.

Yosuke couldn't help but smirk at the irony. He teased Kanji for his sexual preference, but how he treated Souji's and his relationship was the one that needed mocking.

He shut his MP3 player off, turning to the silver-haired boy as he rubbed his nose, bashfulness coming into view. Contrary to his flustered state, he spoke with a self-assured air:

"Now I have the town, my friends... and you."

X.

Life seemed like a television at times, or at least, through Yosuke's speculation.

You could watch others. You could listen to others. And, at times, things seemed hazy when you're detached from your signal.

Yosuke kicked his TV set in vexation, the reception failing for the umpteenth time. As all attempts seemed to fail to readjust the quality, let alone get it back to its original state, he switched it off, left to stare at the static fading in a second of white, then darkness. He stared at his reflection that appeared on the electronic device.

And he wondered if you turned off your life, who was there to turn it back on?