DISCLAIMER: "Shin Megami Tensei" and "Persona 4" and all associated characters and likenesses are the exclusive property of Atlus. Used here without permission. This is a fictional story made for purely entertainment purposes. Any relation to events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Four floors into the team's run through the striptease, it doesn't surprise Yousuke that nearly every treasure chest they find is filled with clothes; this is a construct of Rise's subconscious, after all, and the idol has a passion for clothes that would make the Imperial Princess blanch. It's what they find in the latest chest that gives Yousuke pause, though: a tunic in iridescent white, the length of a baby-doll dress, so sheer it's practically see-through, and way too small for anyone to wear.

Except for Chie.

For a second, the thought of her in such girly clothes makes Yousuke want to laugh...but makes his heart beat a little faster, too. Unfortunately, that'll just make his blood rush to his face, which will likely make Souji or Kanji (or both) call him on it. Or it'll rush to other places, which will make Chie go Critical-Hit-level ballistic on him.

Either way, not good.

She refuses, because it looks flimsy (and he agrees; though isn't the flimsiness part of what's so alluring about it?). Then Kanji does a quick inspection, stretching it between his fists knowingly, his knuckles showing clearly through (and for a second, Yousuke envies him, though he doesn't know precisely why).

“It's strong,” Kanji confirms, passing it to Chie.

“All yours,” Souji says. “We'll keep watch while you change.”

“No way!” Chie gapes, and for a second Yousuke realizes he's gaping, too; then he coughs into his fist, in an attempt to mask his sudden excitement.

But Souji's persuasive (and Yousuke feels another pang of envy, sharper than the one he feels for Kanji, because Kanji doesn't have the same influence on girls that Souji does, and that's really what makes Yousuke feel like a dork in front of them...and Chie). He pushes his glasses up wittingly. “It's better protection than that blouse,” he says, and then his face lights up with a smirk. “Unless you want us to protect you....”

Chie blinks her eyes at Souji, Kanji, and then at Yousuke. (And does he imagine it, or does she take an extra second to look him over...?) Then she scrunches her nose, crumpling the tunic in her fist. “Fine,” she grumbles. “But no peeking, or I'll send all of you into orbit...!”

“Understood,” Souji agrees, pushing up his glasses again as he nods to Kanji and Yousuke, and they take up guard positions at the doorway.

It takes less than five seconds for Yousuke to start wondering what's taking Chie so long to change into the tunic, and during that time he can't stop his mind from going places he really doesn't need it to go, right now....

What if she's wearing one of those stretchy tank tops, like the girls on the track team wear? Or some cute push-up bra, to give her small, perky breasts that extra oomph! that they need? Or a strappy, sporty bra that looks like that bikini top he picked out for her, for the school service trip? Or one of those sexy, lacy, onionskin-thin ones, that lets you see everything? Or what if...what if (oh, fuck, please, yes!) she's not wearing anything at all, and he'll turn around and see her firm little breasts in all their bouncy, beautiful glory, at least for a second? It'll only be a second, he knows, because she will kill him after that. But, oh! That second....

He can't wait for that second.

So he looks at Kanji, and at Souji – both of them looking down opposite ends of the hall – and he decides the risk is worth it.

He lifts a hand to his face, pretending to scratch his nose, at the same time angling his dagger toward the back of the room. It takes a moment to find her reflection in the high-polished shine of metal, but when he does, he isn't disappointed.

She lifts the tunic over her head, shimmying into it with difficulty because of its tight fit. And just as he hoped, just as he prayed, she's completely naked from the waist up: just bare, beautiful skin from the waistband of her tight black shorts (the ones her butt looks poured into, and that he's only ever glimpsed beneath the flare of her skirts), to the sweat-dampened edges of her golden-brown hair at the nape of her neck.

He can see her muscles – smooth, supple, graceful – flex beneath her skin, which is fair along her back and bronzed along her arms, where she's let the summer sun find it on these warmer July days. He can see her shift from foot to foot, making her hips sway in a way they never have before, as if to show off even though no one's looking. (Except for him, of course, but she doesn't know that.) And he can see her tug at the bottom of the tunic, her head glancing down as she raises her hands in a way that can only mean she's cupping those perfect little breasts. (They're perfect, he's decided; they can't be anything but.)

But suddenly there's an uncomfortable weight in his chest, a feeling unlike anything he was expecting. She'll turn in a second, and he'll see her, and he wants to, he really does...but she trusts them (him), and there's something about that trust that's more beautiful than any fleeting glance.

So he closes his eyes and drops his hand to his side, swallowing back what could be shame or pride in himself.

“Ready?” Souji asks, and Chie replies:

“Yup.”

Yousuke turns, smiling as she pushes up the sleeves of her jacket, which she's put on over the tunic. Somehow, the change is right.

“Thanks for watching,” she whispers, and Yousuke's mouth drops open. “I mean, keeping watch,” she corrects. Then she winks, and giggles, and bounds after Souji to take her place in the lineup.

And for just a second, Yousuke thinks he's in love.