Yukiko Amagi had spent her life managing the expectations of those around her.

She did well in school, because that's what was expected of her.

She was trying to learn to cook for him, because that's what was expected of her.

She helped out at the inn, because that's what was expected of her. And when she did, she smiled sweetly as drunken businessmen made their lewd jokes and demeaning passes, because that's what was expected of her.

She'd gone out to pick up the order at Tatsumi Textiles, because that's what was expected of her.

The next day, she forced herself to smile and laugh with Chie even though she couldn't shake the image of her best friend holding his hand as they walked though the shopping district, because that's what was expected of her.

And she sent a message asking him to meet her on Valentine's Day.
Because that's what was expected of her.

[YOU HAVE 1 NEW MESSAGE.]

Don't think; feel.

Those words had always given solace to Chie Satonaka. Whenever things got complicated, or frightening, or even if she wasn't sure of the answer on a test, all she had to do was follow her gut.

Maybe she wasn't pretty like Yukiko or popular like Rise or smart like Naoto. But she didn't have to think about those things around him. All that mattered was how he made her feel.

So she tried not to think about the time she saw him and Rise coming out of the movie theater in Okina. She tried not to think about how tightly Rise was clinging to him. She tried not to think about how he smiled at her.

And she tried not to think as she sent the message asking him to meet her on Valentine's Day. But all she felt was hurt.

[YOU HAVE 2 NEW MESSAGES.]

A life in the spotlight had taught Rise Kujikawa how to fake it. Plaster on a smile, no matter what. Risette was a product to be sold to the masses. Tears leave smudges. Smudges are for defects.

She thought it might be different when she moved to Inaba. She thought she could start fresh. She thought she had found real friends. She thought she had even found real love.

But then she saw him at the flood plain with Naoto when he'd said he would be staying home to study. Naoto, standing a little too close as they talked. Naoto, laughing a little too loudly as he playfully snatched her hat off her head and held it up to shield their faces. Naoto, blushing as he returned the hat, his face still pulling away from hers a little too slowly.

So Rise did what she'd been trained to do. She faked it. She still showed just as much enthusiasm in her greetings to Naoto when she got to class every day, and in her acceptances when he asked her out on dates. She was, after all, used to leading a fake life.

And she still sent him a message asking him to meet her for Valentine's Day, hoping he could fake it for her, too.

[YOU HAVE 3 NEW MESSAGES.]

Naoto Shirogane was a lot of things.

A woman was one of them. A young woman who was just becoming comfortable with the thought of herself and of falling in love for the first time; one who sometimes found her mind wandering to a young man with hair the color of the trees on a clear autumn night and eyes the color of the sea on a cloudy winter morning.

A detective was one of them. A detective who couldn't leave a mystery unsolved; one who couldn't help but notice the picture that formed as the pieces he left seemed to push themselves place, no matter how hard she tried to ignore them. Missed calls and unreturned text messages. The way the other girls on the team looked at him. Alibis that didn't quite add up.

A child was one of them. A child who thought that what she couldn't see couldn't hurt her; if she just closed her eyes and covered her ears, none of this would be real. But she still found herself lying awake on a tearstained pillow at night, silently begging that she wouldn't have to be alone again.

Naoto Shirogane was a lot of things. An idiot wasn't one of them. But as her trembling thumb pressed the button to send the message asking him to meet her on Valentine's Day, she knew that a fool was.

[YOU HAVE 4 NEW MESSAGES.]

"Dude," Yosuke paused the game they'd been playing, raising an eyebrow as he glanced over at his best friend. "Someone is blowing up your phone."

Souji reached for his phone on the table behind them. Casually, he flipped it open, quickly noting the four messages from four different senders. He held down the power button as he flicked his wrist to close it.

"Big plans tomorrow?" The brunette teased.

"Nah, it's nothing important." The phone beeped loudly, announcing it'd been turned off.

For the record: The short version of this fic's existence is that I just lost a bet. I had one hour to sink my precious Souji/Naoto ship and put it here for the internet to see.

Since there were no other stipulations, I decided to sink the Souji/everyone ships (well, all of the original female cast, since I only have an hour to write, proofread, and post this). I never agreed not be vindictive about this.

I dedicate this to all of those who took the harem route in P4. You're all bad people. And to Crys, the biggest jerk of them all.