Archive of Our Own ^beta

                Choromatsu doesn’t move for a long time. He hunches over the sink, furiously blinking the sleep from his eyes so his vision might be clear for one second. On a regular morning, this process would be done while observing his reflection, but he’s not looking at the mirror. He doesn’t know how he noticed it. In a moment of happenstance, he’d glanced down and it’d just managed to catch his eye like a poppy among roses. He feels like the chances are one in a million, because the droplet he’s staring at is so, so small, maybe a fourth of a centimeter in diameter.

                But there’s no mistaking the crimson sheen of blood.

                He wonders why he doesn’t dismiss it, because it could’ve been from any number of things: a nosebleed, a shaving accident, a picked scab… None of the boys are strangers to bleeding for inane reasons. But something about it doesn’t sit right with him. He’s reluctant to take his eyes away from it but he needs to finish brushing his teeth. So he does.

                Just before he leaves, he doesn’t forget to wipe it up with some toilet paper.

                “Bathroom’s free,” he mutters upon his return to the bedroom. Some time ago when they were kids, they’d ultimately decided it was best to go oldest to youngest in the mornings, but that ended in failure when Osomatsu began refusing to wake up before any of his brothers. Now he just goes whenever he gets up. Karamatsu typically uses it first, and being the most considerate of the brothers, he never takes long at all. Choromatsu follows. With that, there’s really no question as to whose blood he’d spotted, as fresh as it was. While Ichimatsu practically drags himself out of the room, Choromatsu scopes it and opens his mouth to address the second eldest, but he’s missing. He blinks a couple times, still not quite all there, then he turns to Jyushimatsu. “Where did Karamatsu go?”

                “Don’t know. He didn’t come back after going to the bathroom,” his brother informs while excitedly rolling around the futon. He laughs and bumps repeatedly into the bundle that is Osomatsu, but their eldest brother doesn’t stir.

                Huh. He must’ve gone straight downstairs then, Choromatsu deduces. He decides there’s nothing else to do but follow suit. Breakfast probably isn’t ready quite yet but he’s fine with waiting with his brother at the kotatsu. Except his brother is not at the kotatsu.

                Choromatsu has no idea why he’s suddenly become so acute to Karamatsu’s absence. It had never been a concern before, to any of them, which sounds bad but... Whatever. The third son finds his brother’s presence to be neither a curse nor a blessing, because the second eldest keeps to himself much more than most of them probably realize, but the rare times in which he does break the silence… God, the pain.

                “Morning, brother! I must tell you, she really outdid herself with that performance today. Her most beautiful ascension as of yet!”

                Speak of the devil, and apparently he shall hurt you in ways you’d never think possible, much less have the slightest chance of comprehending.

                “Uh.” He watches as Karamatsu merrily sets the table. He twirls and dances and Choromatsu can only worry about the plate of eggs bound to fly out of his hands when he trips over nothing. Fortunately, he doesn’t, so he feels it’s safe to seek clarification. “She?”

                “Amaterasu-sama, forever beaming upon the land birthed in her name,” the other answers with a dramatic flick to his bangs. “Her beauty too much for even my highly-trained eyes to behold.”

                “Try not to ‘behold’ the sun too much, will you? What happens if you go blind, Karamatsu?” he berates, the typical tone of disapproval evident in his inquiries. His brother rests his chin atop a newly formed handgun and smirks with pride. “Heh, such a handicap would be but proof that I have successfully beheld the beauty of a goddess.” At Choromatsu’s immediate glare, Karamatsu revises, “But fret not, dear brother. I would never dream of burdening my family just to get a taste of heavenly grace. A few sunrises here and there will not rob me of my sight.”

                Choromatsu honestly will not be surprised if it somehow does, knowing Karamatsu’s luck, or lack thereof.

                The meal is eaten more or less in silence, save for Jyushimatsu scarfing down his portion at the speed of a jet aircraft and the occasional grunt of satisfaction from one of the other brothers. Unsurprisingly, the fifth son finishes first and hops to his feet so he can prance off in a way that’s routine. Surprisingly, the second son rises not a second later, but much more calmly, to follow his younger brother to the kitchen. They pass their parents eating in the neighboring room where Jyushimatsu chants a resounding thank you for the meal. Karamatsu’s echoed gratitude is overdramatic. Choromatsu raises an eyebrow when he sees their mother go to respond, as her expression is puzzled, but she’s silenced when Karamatsu brushes a hand against her shoulder on the way past. Her gaze remains on her two sons where they’re out of sight for a moment longer before she exchanges a glance with her husband and returns to her breakfast without a word.

                Choromatsu doesn’t like the way his intuition nudges at him without really revealing why these vague implications might require further analysis. A quick glance around the kotatsu concludes none of his other brothers notice anything out of the ordinary and he supposes it’s only natural. At least half of them have yet to reach that state of full consciousness, and even if they had, he highly doubts anything would be different. The sensitivities of his brothers’ paranoias are nigh incomparable to his own, which he grudgingly admits is more than likely for the best.

                Once he’s done with breakfast, nature calls him to the bathroom a second time, and it’s unexpectedly urgent. He practically shoves past Karamatsu while crossing paths on the stairwell without so much as an ‘excuse me’. It’s okay because as far as he’s concerned, his brother’s rushed apology is on behalf of the both of them. He’s more than relieved when he makes it in time, but the strange pain in his lower stomach has yet to subside afterwards. Where had it come from? If it was from breakfast, his brothers would be affected too. Regardless, Choromatsu makes his way to the medicine cabinet to see if they have any Ohta’s Isan. He doesn’t see any reason as to why they shouldn’t, since he’s the one most susceptible to stomach pains. And he’s sure there was plenty left the last time he’d used it, but it seems to be absent when he gives the arrangement a once over. Holding his groaning midsection, the third brother uses his free hand to rummage through the cabinet in his quest to locate the missing stomach medication, and is rewarded when he spots a sliver of white and blue behind a box labeled SAM-e.

                Predictably, he hesitates, since what the hell is SAM-e? Whatever brand it is looks to be American imported, and that has Karamatsu written all over it, so Choromatsu urges his angry stomach to wait just a bit more while he investigates. Apparently, SAM-e stands for S-adenosylmethionine, a dietary supplement that promotes joint strength, liver detoxification, and mood and brain function. Choromatsu’s eyes linger on the last of that list. He’s not quite sure what it means. He’s certain Karamatsu’s joints are probably stronger and healthier than half of theirs given how much he works out, and he doesn’t abuse his liver enough to be concerned with detoxifying it, so the only explanation left is… something he still doesn’t understand.

                After a particularly obnoxious complaint from his innards, Choromatsu is forced to replace the box and reach for the reason he’d opened the cabinet in the first place, but not before hurriedly checking its contents for future reference—just six white tablets. He decides it’s best to rest on the couch until the remedy works its magic, because what in god’s name kind of war is his stomach fighting to feel like this? Back inside their shared bedroom, Osomatsu lays on the floor rereading one of his comics and Todomatsu is scrolling through something on his cellphone. Go figure. The rest of their brothers are absent, but the excited counting flowing in through the open window implies Jyushimatsu is practicing his swings in front of the house and Ichimatsu might very well be “helping” him warm up.

                Choromatsu plops onto the couch with a barely suppressed grunt of discomfort, hand caressing his possibly imploding gastro gut. Neither of his brothers acknowledge their third party, so the silence allows him to remain focused on the SAM-e and what the hell Karamatsu would need it for. Maybe he can look it up. There’s a Nyaa-chan concert coming up a few days from today to celebrate her return from retirement and he wants to reconfirm the location anyway. In a rare lapse of judgment, he’d bought two tickets in case one of his otaku friends wanted to go, but they all have other plans. It’s whatever though, he thinks. He’s used to going alone.

                “Hey Totty.” He turns his head toward the brother curled up on the opposite end of the sofa. The other makes a noncommittal sound in response, nothing else. Little shit. He’s probably just staring at his home screen and pretending like he has a life outside their shitty NEET world. Choromatsu can’t help how bitter his thoughts sound sometimes. “Can you hand me the laptop?” he asks.

                “Can’t. My doctor has advised me against heavy lifting.”

                There are many times in Choromatsu’s life in which murder seems like a dangerously close reality. This is one of those times. Funny how his brothers are always the victims in these daydreams.

                “We haven’t been to the doctor in four years and that laptop is like one kilogram.”

                “I don’t know where it is,” Todomatsu swiftly amends.

                “It’s right next to your foot.”

                “I threw out my back yesterday.”

                “Are you an old man?”

                “My spine is broken.”

                “Allow me to turn your delusion into a reality!”

                “Okay, jeez!” the youngest finally concedes, and it’s wise of him. If any of them tend to make good on their threats of physical violence, it’s Choromatsu. He can’t help that his aggression gets the better of him (yes, he can, but he chooses not to). He also can’t help the grin of victory that graces his features while watching the sixth son bend down to pick up their shared computer and rest it on the cushion between them. Brat could’ve done it ten times in the span it took to have that asinine exchange.

                “Thanks,” the third eldest murmurs almost insincerely, pulling it towards himself. He flips it open and patiently waits for the old thing to start up before he commences looking up the drug in question. The results bring up a whole list of ailments outside of what was mentioned on that box, but the first and foremost bullet point that halts Choromatsu from reading any further causes several worry lines to crease on his forehead; SAM-e is most well-known for treating depression.

                Choromatsu shuts the laptop with a snap, looking very much like an unsuspecting man who’d just stumbled into a drug cartel. He’s glad his brothers don’t look up at the sudden movement as he’s positive the mixture of shock and guilt on his face is palpable.

                What gets him the most is the fact that for the first time in his life, he has not the slightest idea of what to do after discovering this bit of information, after discovering one of his brothers might very well have depression. Karamatsu, the least likely in his opinion, might very well have depression.

                But wait, wait, wait… There’s no guarantee that it belongs to Karamatsu, again, the least likely. It could be any of them just as well. It’s not like there’s a name on the box. Which, wouldn’t it have been better to get a prescription drug, or was that exactly the reason why he went for something OTC? So that there wouldn’t be a name? He wants to ask the other two in the room if they know about it, but he feels like that might be some kind of breach in somebody’s privacy, whoever that somebody may be, somebody he can’t help but think is his older brother Karamatsu. Ichimatsu would be the easy first guess, but his younger brother hates swallowing pills, nor would he go through the effort of getting them at the convenience store.

                The second son’s absence is suddenly somehow twice as obnoxious as his presence. “Where’s Karamatsu?” he asks without really thinking. A stutter is just barely withheld from the question, but if there’s anything out of place, the other two don’t seem to notice when they apathetically answer in unison, “Dunno.” Which only serves to make him feel worse about it all. Do any of them ever know what they’re brother does when he isn’t with them? Does he have friends he hangs out with? Hobbies he does alone? When he says he’s going to pick up Karamatsu Girls, is the claim as shallow as they always assume it is?

                Choromatsu comes to the realization that… he doesn’t know much about the second eldest at all. His favorite foods, his likes and dislikes, his fears, his pastimes, his habits, how he works out, etcetera… Choromatsu can’t say much more than that he has a vague idea. Karamatsu favors meat. Karamatsu wears painful fashion. Karamatsu has a hand mirror that he stares at for long periods of time. Karamatsu sings and plays guitar. Sometimes, Karamatsu goes fishing. Karamatsu speaks like he fell out of one of Shakespeare’s playwrights—a bad one.

                …That’s it. That’s all he knows. Is blue even Karamatsu’s favorite color, or is it an assignment he’s just kind of accepted? He, Osomatsu and Todomatsu have all expressed favor for their respective colors. He’s not sure about Jyushimatsu or Ichimatsu though. Maybe some time he’ll ask them.

                Choromatsu spends the next couple of hours pretending to read up on job listings like he usually does, but his excuse this time is not a hidden idol magazine. He’s moved to the table near Osomatsu where he’s taken out a pen and notepad to write down all the things he knows about his brother in question. When he hits a brick wall, he isn’t even able to fill up a page. Half of what he has written down is loaded with question marks. And in big letters near the bottom, he just now realizes he’s scrawled: Who is Karamatsu?

                In a fit of irritation, he tears out the page and crumples it, subsequently tossing it to the waste bin to his right. It doesn’t go in. He catches a snicker from Osomatsu’s direction and suppresses the instinctive urge to hit him. Stupid eldest brother. Probably isn’t even aware that one of them might have depression. The idiot. Though it’s not like he has room to say anything. If anyone else knows, they’ve done a damn good job of keeping it to themselves.

                When Karamatsu makes his grand entrance around six, the rest of the brothers ignore him, as is par for the course. Choromatsu denies his existence most aggressively of all, much too aware of his complete lack of a poker face to risk making eye contact like he wants to. Their brother seems unaffected by their indifference however; he walks over to the bookcase and removes something from his pocket to place on the top shelf, then he grabs the handheld mirror resting there and settles at the table to admire his reflection without a word.

                When they all get ready for the bathhouse that evening, Karamatsu confesses he won’t be joining them, at which they all shrug or ignore. He hasn’t been to the bathhouse with them for at least a week now. Choromatsu’s convinced that it can only mean he’s hiding something.

                The morning after, Choromatsu wakes up to Osomatsu’s prodding, which is highly unusual and the third-born immediately decides he does not want to deal with whatever bullshit his oldest brother wants to present him with. “Choromatsu,” said nuisance murmurs urgently, deviously. The other swats his hand away and tries to roll in the other direction, but a grip on his shoulder keeps him from his sleepy escape. “Chorofappyski…!”

                “Who exactly are you calling ‘Chorofappyski’?” he can’t help but bite out in warning, but any response at all has regrettably proven his surrender. He sits up and rubs at tired eyes next to his grinning brother. He’s laughing quietly, and Choromatsu is loath to discover why until his sibling points to their right. For a moment, the Green Matsu sees nothing out of the ordinary, just the four bodies of their sleeping brothers.

                Wait. Four is one too many.

                He blinks the bleariness out of his eyes so he can confirm that Jyushimatsu has indeed, somehow made his way to the other side of the futon. Not only that, but he’s sprawled out like a human blanket over Karamatsu’s chest. What really makes it picture perfect however are Ichimatsu and Todomatsu cuddling into Karamatsu under the fifth son’s outstretched arms. Choromatsu vaguely remembers Jyushimatsu having an outburst sometime during the night, but the memory is too hazy to explain how he’d relocated so drastically.

                Regardless, the sight before him is sickening.

                “Aren’t they adorable?” Osomatsu whispers while rubbing under his nose. Choromatsu makes a face. “Deplorable, maybe.” The other continues to talk as though no such comment was made. “They love their Onii-chan so much~!” Not that they will ever let him know that with how much each Matsuno values their pride.

                A smirk. “Jealous?”

                To his surprise, his brother is sniffling when he turns to him. There are no tears, but his eyes are glistening dangerously.

                Shit. Fuck. No.

                “Yes!” Osomatsu wails, and Choromatsu has no way to defend against the wholly unwelcome embrace of his eldest sibling. “Comfort your favorite Onii-chan!” It seems the oldest has ceased all concern of trying to remain quiet for their dear brothers’ sakes. Choromatsu would punch him if he could get a good angle, but he can’t, and he is forcibly resigned to his fate of a human teddy bear.

                “Get off!” he tries to shout because he also no longer cares about waking the rest, but it’s muffled against his stupid brother’s shoulder and does little to alert anyone else of his impending demise. “Let go, idiot eldest!”

                “What are you two doing?”

                Both freeze because Karamatsu is the one sitting up and squinting at them sleepily. Jyushimatsu is ostensibly too deep in slumber to stir after having slid from his brother’s chest into his lap. And the other two have unconsciously shifted away from their older brother upon sensing his movements. The dissipation of their brothers’ cuddle-fest prompts Osomatsu to puff his cheeks out and whine. “I should’ve grabbed Totty’s phone and snapped a picture when I had the chance.”

                “And then what would you have done? Sent it to an email you don’t have?” Choromatsu queries skeptically. “I’m willing to bet your knowledge of phones fails to encompass even something as simple as that.”

                He, on the other hand, fails to notice the arm Osomatsu has left around his shoulders after they’d been interrupted in their earlier squabble. The swift transition into a headlock is his unfortunate reminder, and there’s little hope of escape. Choromatsu yelps in protest. “Osomatsu-niisan, I swear to—!”

                “Inside voices please, dear brother. Half of us are still sleeping,” Karamatsu entreats while placing a finger to his lips. The eldest Matsuno snickers. “Yeah, Chinkomatsu. Keep it down, will you?”

                “I’ll kill you!” It’s honestly a wonder how the rest haven’t woken up by now with how little Choromatsu cares for “keeping it down”.

                “Osomatsu…” Karamatsu’s voice is soft, but something underlying it sounds like a warning, and Choromatsu pauses his struggle while Osomatsu quiets his laughter. The former can’t see Karamatsu’s face from this angle. He wonders what kind of expression he’s making. After a moment, the eldest releases the third-born with a huff, although he’s still grinning. “Alright, you convinced me, little bro. You really have a thing for letting sleeping brothers lie, don’t you?”

                “It’s one of my few weaknesses,” the other chuckles under his breath while patting Jyushimatsu’s head. If he’s confused as to how their fifth sibling wound up on top of him, he doesn’t show it, nor does he look like he cares.

                “Painful,” Osomatsu and Choromatsu comment simultaneously, one in amusement, the other in disgust.

                It’s surprisingly early, way too early for Osomatsu to be awake, Choromatsu muses, but for whatever reason, he is. The three of them converse a bit for the next twenty minutes. Well, Choromatsu and Osomatsu converse at least. Karamatsu remains mostly silent while idly stroking his brother’s hair, but he does give a knowing nod and a hum now and then to show he’s still listening to the conversation somewhat. When Ichimatsu and Todomatsu begin to stir, the third eldest feels like that’s his cue to head down to breakfast. He knows he wants to head to the library today, so he goes ahead and changes before departing downstairs (as does Osomatsu, probably due to some weird sextuplet psychology that urges them to perform similar tasks at the same time). He hasn’t been in a while and he misses the peaceful atmosphere.

                It’s about twenty minutes later when Choromatsu steps over the threshold into one of his few personal havens away from his pathetic excuses for brothers. Not one of them would find interest in a place as “boring” as the library (except Karamatsu? Does he read? He can’t remember). The third-born takes solace in the fact that he genuinely likes books.

                He wanders the aisles looking for nothing in particular, just enjoying one of the rare, unchaotic experiences in his young life. The categories begin with fiction at the front, and slowly fade into nonfiction, into academics, into history, into religion, into health, into… Choromatsu pauses in a relatively small section labeled “Self-help”. What stops him is one of the titles near the middle rightmost bookend, Meet My Best Friend SAM(-e). His focus freezes on it for a few seconds, then he notices the titles surrounding it: Prescribe my Happiness, The Bottom of the Pit, Why You Matter, More than ‘A Mood’, and a few others. His hand is already moving towards the first book to catch his eye without him realizing it. As he flips through the pages, he discovers it’s a narrative rather than any sort of guide book. Perhaps something like this is better answered with a sense of intimacy? Choromatsu honestly has no idea. He shuts the novel, replaces it, and reaches for another to skim. Most of them are narratives, though a couple are written more like the book is attempting to have a conversation with the reader, and one is entirely filled with poems. A part of him is reluctant to do so, but he knows now that when he walks out of here, one of these books will be under his arm.

                After much debate, the Green Matsu ultimately decides on The Bottom of the Pit. It’s one of the narratives, but mostly this is his pick of the litter because the title is the least conspicuous, leading to less questions from his nosy brothers. There’s this part of him that desperately wants to understand this side of his sibling that he’s never knowingly witnessed (whichever sibling it might be, Choromatsu is quick to mentally add). It’s the same part that irrationally argues that they shouldn’t keep secrets from each other, that secretly wants to stay with five other shitty NEETs for the rest of his shitty NEET life because screw functioning as an actual member of society (even if that’s the only thing he’s wanted since graduating high school).

                Once home, Choromatsu deliberates where he can read without being bothered. Nowhere in the house is a haven, and Todomatsu and Ichimatsu occupy the bedroom. A passing thought prompts him to wonder where Karamatsu would go to be alone, and the answer is obvious and immediate: the roof. The third son isn’t fond of the roof, mostly because he has a fear of heights, but he doesn’t know where else to go. (He also completely forgot that he could’ve just read the stupid book in the library.) So, the roof it is!

                Choromatsu lays a blanket out on the shingles, aggressively ignores the road below as well as all the memories he has of his big brother falling victim to the clutches of gravity, and begins following the story of a sixteen-year-old boy named Daishi Ken. He’s sarcastic and dry but really awkward, and he kind of reminds Choromatsu of Ichimatsu with his troublingly low self-esteem, especially when he introduces his overconfident twin sister and two older brothers with reverence while only referring to himself with self-loathing. The tale begins shortly before he learns he has major depression.

                So, there are types? He honestly hasn’t heard much about depression growing up, aside from the fact that it’s quite common in Japan. But everyone that has it keeps it to themselves, considering it to be something to be embarrassed about. He finds himself wondering what type Karamatsu might be (or whoever). He continues the book on and off for the rest of the day, sucked into a story he’d only begun in order to gain some perspective on an issue he wasn’t familiar with. When Karamatsu and Jyushimatsu arrive home later, Choromatsu pays them no mind. He has several strategies to his problem solving, and this one is him aggressively ignoring the problem until he can solve it with confidence.

                Because that’s worked so far in his life as a NEET, right?

                Daishi was bullied a lot in his childhood, Choromatsu comes to discover. He had frequent and severe epileptic seizures and the other kids who didn’t understand called him a freak for it. It didn’t help that he was shy and stuttered a lot. Mostly, he was just sad. But as a teenager, Daishi is angry. He’s angry and condescending and thinks he’s smarter than everyone else, and Choromatsu can just hear Osomatsu, his asshole of an eldest brother, pass a snide remark of how similar they seem to be. He punches the intrusive thought that is Osomatsu’s smug face and grounds it into the dirt with the heel of his metaphorical shoe.

                Dick.

                Too bad intrusive thought Osomatsu is right. Daishi is honestly kind of a (huge) asshole, almost to the point where he can see why a reader wouldn’t want to root for him. But Choromatsu likes that he’s so far from perfect. He’s so hooked that the first thing he does the following morning is reach for the book while he’s still lying on the futon. He barely hears Karamatsu dip into the room just to say the bathroom is free right before he disappears again.

                He doesn’t think to actually get up until he remembers the SAM-e in the medicine cabinet and how he’d failed to check it yesterday. He shuffles out of the futon where the rest of his sleeping brothers lay—

                Choromatsu doubletakes. That’s wrong. Jyushimatsu’s missing too. That’s unusual.

                When he pads to the bathroom, he hears a vicious stomping downstairs and confirms Jyushimatsu is very much awake and invoking his normal chaos. He sets The Bottom of the Pit down by the sink and reaches for the SAM-e to take a peek; there’re only two tablets left. With his suspicions verified that Karamatsu is currently taking this medication and taking two pills daily, Choromatsu reaches for his toothbrush and continues to read where he left off. He begins chapter seven, and nearly drops his dental agent, not just out of shock, but a familiar eeriness when he reads ‘There are no words that can convey the raw satisfaction of watching the red slide down his forearm, to his elbow, then hurriedly drip in its race to the bathroom tiles. The blade is dull, the pain is sharp, and the darkening blood is somehow brighter than the bleached ceramics.’

                The third Matsuno stares at these first couple of sentences, then almost afraid, his eyes fall to the floor to see nothing but clean white tile.

                No way. That morning, his brother couldn’t have…

                Choromatsu spits out the mint before he’s really brushed any teeth at all and rinses his mouth hurriedly. He glances at the words again while patting his face with a towel. ‘He can’t help but admire how beautifully ugly the sight of his mangled arm looks. This feeling of agonizing euphoria, of thrilling disgust. The cuts are chaotically controlled. But more than anything, it’s the validation he’s been denied.’

                The hand that shuts the book is much harsher than he intends, but he doesn’t care. He clutches the novel like a lifeline and races out of the bathroom and downstairs to where he thinks (hopes) his older brother is. Karamatsu and Jyushimatsu are together in the kitchen where it smells of breakfast. The pair turn at the sound of footsteps, faces donning smiles of welcome as they both greet their new company, but he ignores them completely. Choromatsu stalks right up to his older sibling, holds out his free hand, and says, “Let me see your arm.”

                Karamatsu blinks at him, slightly surprised—not nearly as surprised as the other wants him to be at his own sporadic and strange command. Jyushimatsu’s glancing between them uncertainly, smile just a fraction smaller than what it was seconds beforehand. However, Karamatsu is smirking now, throwing Choromatsu off guard. “Heh, if you desire to squeeze your big brother’s bicep, you may do so whenever you wish, my Karamatsu Boy,” he croons, making a show of flexing. The gesture makes Jyushimatsu laugh and clap his hands. Choromatsu stifles the cringe, grabs the other’s wrist, and jerks it toward him without warning. He forces the sleeve up to his brother’s elbow—

                —and sees nothing. At least… nothing relatively new. Karamatsu’s arms are mildly scarred, but none amongst them are recent. With a sense of thoroughness, he inspects his brother’s other arm and finds equally nothing. Not all people who deal with depression do what Daishi did, Choromatsu realizes. His resulting sigh of relief sounds like the weight of the world has just fallen off his shoulders.

                “Are you okay, Nii-san?” Jyushimatsu asks somewhat worriedly.

                Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Karamatsu’s hand raise. It looks like he’s going to let it fall to his shoulder, but then it freezes in midair “Are you sick?” He glances down at the arms concealed under his pajama sleeves. “Is there something on your arms?”

                “U-Uh, yeah!” He’s a really shitty liar, but if he’s given straws, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t grasp at them. “I broke out in… in hives this morning!” Although the lies he comes up with are decently believable, he doesn’t have the bearing to pull them off half the time, but he has to try! Thank god his brothers are idiots. “Just wanted to see if anyone else got them, you know?” He turns to Jyushimatsu, trying not to wince at his own terrible acting. “D-Did you break out at all, Jyushimatsu?”

                The younger shakes his head vibrantly, smile returning to its normal size. “Nope! That’s all you, Choromatsu-niisan!”

                “Ah, let me see. Perhaps I can—“

                “No!” Choromatsu hugs his arms across his chest and turns away, probably looking like Karamatsu just violated him. He rushes to stutter, “No, thanks. I-I can take care of it.”

                The elder’s shoulders slump at his offer to help being denied before he can put it on the table, but he still smiles. “Very well, brother. There should be a cream on the bookshelf in our room. I never got around to putting it back after I broke out in hives about a month ago. Use as much as you require!”

                The third son mutters some quiet thanks he’s not sure the other two hear before he retreats upstairs. He passes Osomatsu on the way up, who yawns a half-assed “Good morning”, and reenters their bedroom where the last two brothers still reside: Todomatsu on his phone and Ichimatsu playing with a stray. While he’s changing into his hoodie, he thinks that maybe he should actually apply the cream. Just in case the other two ask, he can at least smell like his lie might be honest. With that in mind, he moves toward the shelf. He doesn’t spot it until Choromatsu realizes it must be on Karamatsu’s shelf, i.e. the top shelf. When they had split up the shelves over whose was whose growing up, Karamatsu had wound up with the top, otherwise known as the hardest shelf to get to, but he didn’t mind. He’d somehow twisted the result around like it was truly his victory at the time, pitying his unfortunate brothers for ending up with lower, less awesome storage spaces. Presently, it makes sense (not really), because Karamatsu is the tallest now, although marginally. It’s not obvious, but the second son has the height advantage by at least four centimeters on Osomatsu. Jyushimatsu and Ichimatsu follow with a difference of a couple more, too close to really compare. Then there’s Choromatsu by another couple, and Totty is the shortest. He only knows this because Osomatsu was convinced he was the tallest and ordered all the sextuplets to measure themselves somewhat recently. Suffice to say, his pride was briefly wounded upon finding out the truth.

                Unfortunately, as the hardest shelf to get to, Choromatsu can’t see much of the contents from this angle. So he reaches up and feels around until he grabs something. First, he accidentally grabs Karamatsu’s mirror. He feels around some more and grabs onto something he can’t immediately identify. When he pulls it down to look, he freezes.

                Because why the hell does his brother have a box cutter?

                Choromatsu stares. Is this what Karamatsu had placed up here the other day? Why is he carrying it around with him? What is he using it for? His thoughts trace back to Daishi and he unconsciously clenches his fist around it, the anxiety returning from earlier that morning like it’d never left. There are no cuts on Karamatsu’s arms… but he could be cutting elsewhere, to keep it hidden from his brothers.

                Is… Is this why he’d stopped coming to the bathhouse?

                Choromatsu feels his understanding of his older brother has plummeted for the last three days. He’d thought Karamatsu was an idiot, but now he’s not so sure. He’d thought his brother was an open book too. He’s obviously not. Far from it. He might in fact be shut more tightly than any of them, wearing these fake smiles for years.

                For the first time in Choromatsu’s life, one of his brother’s feels like a complete stranger.

                He flinches when a chill crawls up his spine. He feels eyes on him. With the slightest tilt of his head, he can see Totty fixated on his cell, but Ichimatsu is watching him, observing him more like. From this angle, he probably can’t see what’s in Choromatsu’s hand. As casually as he can, he replaces the box cutter and feels around until he successfully grabs the cream. Without a word to either of them, he relocates to the roof a second time.

                He’ll never admit the reason, but it’s because he wants to feel close to a brother that suddenly feels about as close as the closest star.

                The cream is cold when the Green Matsu applies it to his skin and rubs it in, before hurriedly pulling his sleeves back down in case he forgets later. He caps it, places the tube in his pocket, and opens The Bottom of the Pit. Daishi is still bleeding on the bathroom floor and the imagery makes Choromatsu sick. His previously generic face begins to resemble Karamatsu’s and Choromatsu finds himself going in and out of focus, having to read and reread paragraphs.

                “Oi.”

                The poor sextuplet nearly jumps out of his skin, and for a split second, is terrified he’ll fall to his death. He digs his heels in and clutches the book to his chest when he meets eyes with Osomatsu walking over from the platform upon which they hang their laundry. He has two trays in his hands.

                “I almost didn’t believe Ichimatsu when he said you might’ve come up here. Trying to conquer your fear of heights?” his brother teases. Whatever retort Choromatsu might’ve had is halted by the fact that Osomatsu was somehow kind enough to bring him his breakfast. He watches him sit down and hand him his tray and the suspicions swell at these unforeseen acts of generosity. But when Osomatsu proceeds to say nothing in favor of digging in, Choromatsu delays his inquiries, puts his book down, and does the same.

                The silence between them is short. “What are you reading, anyway?” his older brother inquires curiously. Choromatsu tries to be as vague as possible. “Just something I picked up from the library,” he answers with a shrug, banking on the fact that Osomatsu doesn’t really care.

                “Ew, the library,” he comments in disgust, as expected. “So, something bothering you lately?”

                Huh. Not so expected response. He and Osomatsu really know each other, don’t they? Considering his eldest brother is basically his best friend, it comes as no surprise. It’s been that way since they were children. Out of all their brothers, he can confidently say he knows Osomatsu the best, and vice versa.

                He’s quiet for a second, trying to think of a conversation that will help him the most while giving the least away. Of course, he wants to tell him everything, but there are still too many questions. He can’t have his older brother barreling into the problem when the solution might require a sense of delicacy, when the problem might not exist at all.

                “What does Karamatsu-niisan like to eat?”

                “Hm? Karamatsu?” Osomatsu doesn’t look put off by the seemingly random question, but it shows on his face how unforeseen the topic is. “He likes meat, doesn’t he?”

                “What else does he like?” Choromatsu presses. The other shrugs. “I dunno. Okonomiyaki?”

                Is he just saying shit?

                “What does he dislike?”

                “Hmm. Kinpira gobo.”

                He’s just saying shit.

                “That’s what you don’t like,” he snaps impatiently.

                “In which case, everyone should dislike it,” Osomatsu states matter-of-factly, twisting his pinky in his ear like a disgusting man-child. Choromatsu sighs at his brother’s disinterest in the conversation. “Is blue even his favorite color?” he asks more to himself, tone ripe with exasperation.

                “It’s not.” The sureness in Osomatsu’s immediate answer throws him for a loop. The other blinks and parrots, “It’s not?”

                “Nah. Second favorite. His favorite color is black.”

                That’s not a color, Choromatsu thinks, but he’ll let it slide for now. It’s certainly not what he’d anticipate. If not blue, the third brother had presumed it to be something flashy like orange or gold. Black is an absence of all things flashy.

                “When did he mention that?”

                “Senior year, I think.”

                Choromatsu remains silent. He never would’ve guessed. His oldest brother really has a knack for remembering the smallest of things from years ago.

                “What’s up with you? I haven’t heard you call him Nii-san in years. Finally showing your big brother some respect?” said brother prods in amusement. He’d called him Nii-san? Choromatsu hadn’t even noticed.

                He takes a deep breath and says, “I’m worried about him.” It’s best not to beat around the bush. Otherwise it will go right over his brother’s head. He can be so oblivious sometimes. “He… hasn’t been himself lately.” And that is an incorrect statement. Aside from an increase in his absence amongst them, Karamatsu’s acted no differently.

                Osomatsu hums. “You think so? I haven’t noticed.” Choromatsu doesn’t blame him. Unfortunately, he can’t think of a better explanation to generate cause for concern but not alarm.

                “Eh?!” He doesn’t foresee the hand that ruffles his hair none too gently. “It’s my job to worry about you guys, so don’t lose your head over it! Thanks for letting me know, Choro,” his twin chimes coolly. “Just leave it to me, yeah?”

                With a scowl, Choromatsu swats Osomatsu’s hand away. He hates to admit it, but hearing those words makes him feel a bit better. There’s good reason why Osomatsu is their leader, and it’s not just because he’s the oldest.

                He watches his brother stretch, yawn and lay back on the roof with his hands behind his head, evidently intent on taking a nap. Choromatsu grabs his tray so he doesn’t accidently knock it and send it careening over the edge, and stacks it atop his own on his opposite side. Then he opens his novel and continues where he’d left off. He has a significantly easier time getting through the scene a second time around. The pair of them remain that way for what’s probably hours. By chance, Choromatsu looks up to see Todomatsu returning to the house from wherever he’s been. He must’ve left earlier to hang with some friends. They meet eyes and his little brother waves with a smile. “Don’t fall, Choromatsu-niisan!”

                The reminder is more than effective in making his heartbeat speed up tenfold after seeing how far below him his brother is, and Choromatsu tenses. He’d completely forgotten about his fear of heights somehow, and that dry little monster just…

                “Go fuck yourself, Totty!” he replies through grit teeth.

                “Oh, is that Totty?” Osomatsu pushes himself up sluggishly. The third son wonders if he’d ever fallen asleep. Their older brother looks down and waves with a grin. “Welcome home, Totty! Oh! That means everyone’s home. C’mon, Choromatsu!” he beckons suddenly, shooting up so fast, the other fears the first Matsuno brother is about to succumb to the frequent fate of the second. To his relief, Osomatsu plants his feet firmly, but then he races away before Choromatsu can ask him what’s going on. Is he just excited to have his brothers all in one place? He’s so weird sometimes…

                He takes his time in following his brother, practically crawling until he’s back on safer ground, which is difficult when he’s carrying two trays of dishes and a novel under his arm. Asshole could’ve helped him. But eventually, he’s in the house and on his way down the hall where he crosses paths with Karamatsu.

                “Oh, let me take those for you, brother. It sounds like Osomatsu has an announcement,” he offers, already reaching for the trays. Choromatsu is too overwhelmed by the uncertainties he still has regarding his brother to properly protest. Karamatsu plucks the dishes from his hands and descends the stairs. “I’ll join you all shortly!” he calls over his shoulder. With some hesitation, Choromatsu enters the bedroom to see the rest of his brothers already present and sitting at the table. Huh. Osomatsu is truly making some kind of announcement.

                He settles himself between Ichimatsu and Todomatsu, straight across from Osomatsu. There’s light conversation going on, but no announcement, prompting Choromatsu to wonder if they’re waiting for Karamatsu. His suspicions are confirmed when Karamatsu joins them several minutes later and Osomatsu waves him over. “About time! Sit down!”

                Karamatsu does, and while he’s still getting situated between Osomatsu and Todomatsu, their eldest brother is unable to contain himself any longer. “Alright, everyone shut up! Shut up! I’m talking,” he broadcasts like they can’t already hear him. When they’ve all quieted, he continues, “As one of you already knows, I won big at the horse races yesterday! And I’m still feeling pretty good about it. So, to show you all how much your big brother loves you, dinner’s on me tonight!”

                There’s a cheer that rings throughout the room, rapidly followed by suggestions of where to eat. Choromatsu tosses in a few and argues with Todomatsu about whether this bar is better than that bar when he catches Osomatsu’s query over the conversing of his other brothers.

                “Why so quiet, Kara?” He zeroes in on Karamatsu’s complete lack of acknowledgement. Funnily enough, this hushes all voices around the table. When their brother doesn’t immediately respond, Osomatsu places a hand to his chest and in mock offense, he asks, “Are you not wholly overjoyed to be treated by Onii-chan? Praise me!”

                Karamatsu smiles and reaches for his sunglasses before giving an answer, but in the midst of it, he stops and glances at Jyushimatsu on the other side of the eldest. The latter’s grin brightens and he excitedly wobbles, as if their brother has just done something awesome. Karamatsu closes his eyes instead and folds his hands on the table in front of him, leaving his shades untouched. “Of course! Your generosity is never anything less than immeasurable in value, Osomatsu. It truly pains me to forgo this gracious invitation, but regrettably, today I feel my attendance would be less an asset and more comparable to hot air. But you should all enjoy yourselves, my brothers,” he encourages.

                Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea. He knows he doesn’t really have any evidence that the second eldest is a danger to himself right now, but that doesn’t change the fact that he feels like his brother needs to be under surveillance of some kind. Choromatsu watches him closely, but he forgets the somewhat recent revelation that his elder brother just might be the hardest one to read of the six of them—the exact opposite of himself, he begrudgingly thinks. Even without the help of his sunglasses, Karamatsu’s expression gives very little away; he caresses his chin in that same dumb way and hums like he’s channeling some dead philosopher Choromatsu doesn’t care to decide on right now.

                His thoughts are interrupted when Osomatsu crosses his arms and vigorously shakes his head at the unnecessarily drawn out declination. “Nope. Impossible. You’re going,” he stresses adamantly.

                As expected, the other is quick to protest, “Honestly, I’m not all that hungry today, br—“

                “Because this dinner is in your honor.”

                “Huh?” Karamatsu looks four types of confused. Choromatsu feels that.

                “It’s in all our honors!” Osomatsu chants like they’ve just won a war. His index finger is already at home where it rubs under his nose.

                Yes! Good job, Osomatsu-niisan! He has no idea why honor’s involved, but poetic bullshit that concerns his brothers is practically Karamatsu’s Achilles’ heel. There’s no way he can refuse the invitation now!

                Osomatsu has snaked his arm around the younger’s neck while he and the other four applaud for no reason. The second brother’s initial perplexity fades as he stutters a soft “Oh” that the others might not have heard. When the baseless shouting recedes and the oldest eyes him expectantly, Karamatsu smiles and says, “What kind of brother would I be to miss it then?”

                “That’s the spirit!”

                “Just let me take care of something,” he bids, carefully removing himself from the elder’s hold. Osomatsu pouts up at him when he goes to stand, but his attention is momentarily stolen by Jyushimatsu. Karamatsu makes a swift exit from the bedroom and Choromatsu exchanges a look with Ichimatsu without meaning to. It’s hard to read his ever-dull expression, but he can tell the fourth son is just as curious regarding what exactly the Blue Matsu has to “take care of”. Neither of them act on their shared suspicion.

                They leave for dinner several hours later with Karamatsu bringing up the rear of their pack. Choromatsu doesn’t realize he’s been glancing back at him the whole walk until Todomatsu speaks up beside him, sounding almost annoyed.

                “What’s your problem? Is he going to ascend?”

                It takes all in his power not to jump ten feet sideways, his mind thoroughly muddled by the sudden interruption to his scrutiny. All he can manage in reply is a shaky, “Huh?”

                “You’ve been glancing back at Karamatsu-niisan like he’s stalking us,” the youngest accuses suspiciously, and like the smartass he likes to be, he adds, “He’s one of us, I assure you.”

                Under normal circumstances, Choromatsu would’ve lashed out at the jibe. However, right now he’s trying to his best not to act so painfully obvious, and apparently his best is absolute shit. “R-Right. Sorry,” he apologizes.

                “Seriously, what’s up?” the younger doesn’t look too keen on letting it go, and Choromatsu wants to tell him to fuck off. But knowing the little gremlin, he’d make a scene out of his nosiness. So, he tells him to fuck off, but politely. “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

                Predictably, Todomatsu seems unconvinced.

                “We’re here!” Osomatsu proclaims excitedly, unknowingly saving the third eldest from the cold claws of this dry monster walking next to him. Soon enough, they’re inside and seated and he’s determined to lose himself in the conversation, because so far keeping a close watch on his brother to gauge what he’s thinking has proven fruitless.

                Choromatsu doesn’t remember much past the beginning of dinner, which is liable to happen when his brothers decide they want to get piss drunk. He wakes up the following morning in his proper place on the futon and absolutely no memory of how he got there, but his head is pounding in result of all he drank last night. He’s always the one with the worst hangovers, although Todomatsu and Jyushimatsu definitely have their mornings, and Ichimatsu and Karamatsu tend not to actually drink a lot, opting instead to drink water after one or two beers.

                When he gets up, he notices Jyushimatsu and Karamatsu are once again already up and about. He waits a few minutes, tries to settle his headache before Karamatsu drops by to tell him the bathroom is open, but he doesn’t. He groans and wills himself to relocate to the bathroom, which is very much empty. As if it’s routine, he checks for the SAM-e box and can’t find it. But then he looks on the top shelf and sees it, brand new and unopened. At least his brother seems just as meticulous keeping up with his secret medication. That’s good, isn’t it?

                Downstairs, he finds Jyushimatsu sitting at the table, unusually still. He can hear shuffling in the kitchen, but when he glances in presuming to see his other brother, he sees their mother instead.

                “Morning, Choromatsu-niisan!” his younger sibling chimes. Choromatsu flinches at the noise. “Good morning. Where’s Karamatsu-niisan?” he finds himself asking for what must be the fourth time this week. Jyushimatsu is quick to cover his mouth with his sleeves and shake his head defiantly. “Can’t tell you!”

                Choromatsu raises an eyebrow. “What? Why?”

                “Because I don’t know!”

                The elder studies him. He may not know where Karamatsu is, but he knows something.

                “Did you see him leave this morning?” he tries, attempting a different approach. Jyushimatsu nods vigorously. He continues, “And he didn’t say where he was going?”

                A shake.

                “What about when he’d be back?”

                Another shake.

                Choromatsu narrows his eyes. “Aren’t you curious, Jyushimatsu?”

                “Eh!” His little brother freezes, eyes dilating in that unusual way they sometimes do when he’s surprised or really thinking hard. The other can’t help the smirk that develops because he knows he’s got him. “Don’t you wanna find out what he’s doing? He’s been going out a lot recently.”

                Jyushimatsu doesn’t say anything, but his twin can see him sweating under the pressure. There’s no doubt he’s every bit as interested as Choromatsu is, if not more. But there’s something that’s fighting the urge, something he knows that’s making him feel like finding out is not what Karamatsu wants. Choromatsu is determined to make such a discovery.

                “Aren’t you curious?” he repeats slowly, smugly. “Jyu-shi-ma-tsu?” With every syllable, he can see his sibling cave, if the tremors are any indication.

                There’s a brief pause, then the Yellow Matsu is nodding aggressively, unable to contain his excitement. “I’m curious, Choromatsu-niisan!” he confesses easily.

                ‘Yes!’ is the mental cheer as he suppresses the urge to fist-pump.

                “You NEETs better eat before you go stalking your brother!” their mother’s voice sounds from the kitchen, causing some split-second alarm. The boys peek in, but she isn’t facing them, preoccupied with finishing up her cooking. Duh. Why did he never think to ask their mom about Karamatsu’s daily whereabouts?

                “Do you know where he went, Kaa-san?” he asks hopefully.

                She doesn’t look at him when she answers, “Try the north side of town. He likes to go there.”

                How does she even know that? The north side of town is where the edge of the actual city begins, where traffic gets denser and the nights remain brighter. The suggestion is a good one. It’s the perfect setting for his brother to try and sell his overblown bravado, and Choromatsu chalks it up as his mother simply knowing how her sons work. So about a half hour later, he and Jyushimatsu are well on their way. They choose to wear their plaid shirts today, the younger brother sporting his well-loved overalls. It’s not as conspicuous as their sweaters or jumpsuits, in case they have to hide, which Choromatsu is certainly (shamelessly) prepared to do if the situation calls for it.

                The pair wander aimlessly about for hours. When Jyushimatsu’s stomach rumbles noisily around one o’clock, Choromatsu takes them to a small café to take a break. They don’t normally hang out one on one like this, being on such completely opposite ends of the personality spectrum, having completely different interests. It’s strange, but not uncomfortable.

                “Nii-san?”

                “Hm?” Choromatsu doesn’t immediately look up from his book. He’s about halfway through, and Daishi had fallen into a bad crowd a couple chapters ago. Right now, he idly watches a couple of his peers beat up some nameless kid who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The leader of the gang has a possessive arm around Daishi’s waist where he’s pulled flush to her side. Her character was completely unexpected, especially after the way she’d been introduced—a cheerful, bubbly girl who liked to pull pranks, and when she spoke, the words that left her mouth were one part broken English, two parts nonsense. For all her twistedness, Choromatsu couldn’t help but admire her a little bit after she’d gotten Daishi to stop self-harming.

                “I miss Karamatsu-niisan.”

                That makes his head snap up. He sees his younger brother, but the scene is slightly unfocused. Jyushimatsu’s expression is normal, with his open grin and bright eyes, but something’s still wrong. It doesn’t make sense, but Choromatsu thinks he looks sad.

                He himself is frowning, he realizes. It’s no secret why. He may be averse to most of his brothers’ affections, but he’s not emotionally constipated like the fourth son, or desperate to separate his NEET life from his social (otaku) life like the sixth. He and Karamatsu get along in their own way. After himself, Choromatsu can count on Karamatsu to be the most reliable of the sextuplets. And despite all the shit they give him, he is a good big brother, almost too attentive to each of their needs. The second-born is also the only one who enjoys his idol interests, having frequently gone with his little brother to conventions and concerts when they were younger. But Choromatsu’s favorite memories are the times he and Karamatsu would scold or tease their oldest brother—the only exception to the second son’s boundless placidity; laughing together when Osomatsu fell on his face or punishing him when he did something stupid were some of the best bonding moments he’s ever had with the Blue Matsu. They seem so far away now. It… hurts a little bit to think about.

                “…I miss him too,” he finally admits while marking his page and shutting his book. He removes his chin from where it’s been perched lazily in the palm of his hand, propped on the table. He stands. “Come on. We might still find him yet.”

                Jyushimatsu eagerly jumps up at that. “Yeah! Yeah! Muscle, muscle!”

                "Hustle, hustle!” Choromatsu finishes with a wink and a flex of his free arm. This serves to feed his little brother’s enthusiasm much more effectively than he’d anticipated. The younger practically jumps ten feet in the air and promptly sprints off into the distance, leaving plumes of smoke in his wake. The dust irritates his throat and he coughs behind his sleeve, staring after his lost sibling. He’s long gone. Choromatsu would not be surprised if he’d somehow broken the space-time continuum.

                Well, nothing to do but follow his brother’s vapor trail that isn’t a vapor trail, he guesses. He doesn’t have to walk very far however, when Jyushimatsu rounds the corner a block down back into view and sprints at him with alarming force. Choromatsu can’t remember the last time he’s been so terrified.

                “Eh! Jyu—Jyushimatsu!? Wait! Wait! Nooo!” He raises his hands to protect himself from the oncoming threat to his life when his brother halts just shy of slamming into him.

                “I found Karamatsu-niisan!”

                He may not have been the one running but he can’t help panting out of the pure fear of what could’ve happened to him just now. Nevertheless, the news is surprising. “You… You did?”

                A vigorous nod. “Yup! C’mon, Choromatsu-niisan!” And then Jyushimatsu grabs him, and Choromatsu fears for his life some more when he’s pulled through the air like a banner. What would’ve been a highly justified scream is caught in his throat against the wind. And all of a sudden, they’ve stopped, the older desperately trying to catch his breath while Jyushimatsu points across the street. The former follows his gaze, and sure enough, Karamatsu is standing outside a convenience store, shades on, black shirt, and blue jumpsuit tied off around his waist. He actually looks normal, and by extension, kind of cool, Choromatsu observes. But if he’s trying to pick up Karamatsu Girls, or just plain trying to show off his Cool Guy motif, why isn’t he dressed flashier?

                Then Choromatsu realizes there’s a girl with him.

                What. What.

                The third eldest grabs his brother and ducks behind the corner they’d just rounded, confident their sibling hasn’t caught sight of them yet. Together, they peek out and watch a scene the Green Matsu badly wishes he could hear.

                The girl is blond, thin, and at least head shorter than their brother. Her hair is messily braided over one shoulder. She’s adorable, Choromatsu thinks fondly. Irritably. Is this why his brother’s been gone so much? He has a girlfriend?! Bastard! Idiot! Traitor! Die!

                He can see his painful mistake of a family member make a finger gun at his innocent company and Choromatsu now wishes he could just throttle him over the distance. But the girl smiles and laughs at the gesture, prompting the third son to theorize that she must be either clinically insane, or invulnerable to pain.

                It’s impossible! His brother is almost physically incapable of talking to women! With all his talk of Karamatsu Girls and being a ladies’ man or a… what was it? A Guilt Guy? The point is that by all means, the scene before them doesn’t make sense. How could Karamatsu, of all the sextuplets, get a cutie like that to like him? Bribery? No, he’s just as broke as the rest of them. Blackmail? No, he’s too stupidly kind. Blood sacrifice? That seems likely.

                Karamatsu says something else, to which she replies with a raised finger. A flash of what might be confusion appears across his face before he answers, and she nods with another smile. He smirks and plays with the fringe of his hair, looking victorious. He looks like an idiot, Choromatsu screeches internally. He refuses to acknowledge how fucking cute they look.

                But then there’s a boy that approaches the pair. He’d just exited the convenience store they were loitering outside of. He swings an arm around the girl’s shoulders and grins at Karamatsu like they’re old friends, which they could be. Old friends from drama club? Can’t be. Now that Choromatsu is really looking at them, it sinks in that with that platinum blonde hair and the other’s mess of brown, coupled with their sharp noses and square jawlines, these two must be foreigners. And everything makes a trillion times more sense now. That must be her boyfriend, which means Karamatsu is still a single loser like the rest of them. Choromatsu can’t help the wave of relief. He and Jyushimatsu watch the trio exchange a few more words, laugh a couple more times, then to Choromatsu’s disbelief, the boy goes in for a hug. From the look on Karamatsu’s face, he’s not expecting it either, but returns it regardless. Then the girl hands him something just before embracing him, and Choromatsu has to smother that inferno of envy inside him. With a wave, the two strangers are on their way.

                He waits there for a couple more seconds, getting himself mentally prepared to approach someone he shouldn’t have to mentally prepare himself to approach. A deep breath, then he asks if his little brother is ready.

                But Jyushimatsu is already halfway across the street.

                “E-Eh?!” That idiot!

                “Karamatsu-niisan!” the younger greets loudly. If he’d been wearing his normal hoodie, his sleeves would be flapping around over his head right now. Choromatsu chases after him.

                Their elder brother looks up with raised eyebrows, but his expression warms once he recognizes his siblings. For once, he looks seriously surprised to see them, supposedly wandering about a part of town they don’t usually visit, which only further convinces the third-born that he’s hiding something.

                “My brothers! What business do you have so close to the city?” he starts cordially, pushing off from where he’s been leaning on the wall. He catches Jyushimatsu in his arms when the latter tackles him with a hug. Choromatsu admires how he’s somehow able to keep his footing against the fifth-born’s dangerous embrace and yet still can’t keep himself from slipping off the edge of their roof at least once a day, or what used to be once a day, he mentally corrects with some dismay.

                Jyushimatsu goes to answer, but the other cuts him off hurriedly. He’s not up to talking his way out of the truth his brother is most assuredly about to blurt. “Who were those people you were with just now?” he queries instead. Karamatsu thoughtfully pats the top of Jyushimatsu’s head just before the latter breaks away. “Oh, them? Those lovely siblings just moved here from America. Eager to experience the beauty of our homeland, of course. They were lucky to stumble into such a connoisseur of the English language.”

                Huh. He’d always thought his brother’s actual skill in English was novice at best, despite using it the most. It was Choromatsu and Todomatsu that had mastered it years ago, but they never use it, so they’re probably rusty. If Karamatsu can speak it well enough to communicate with a couple of Americans, then he must be better than he’d previously thought.

                “We even exchanged emails in case they had more questions during their stay,” he adds, striking one of his poses.

                “Nii-san!”

                They both jump.

                “What’ve you been doing out here?!” Jyushimatsu shouts his curiosity without holding back. He reaches up to remove his big brother’s sunglasses and puts them on his own face instead. The latter doesn’t seem to mind them being so casually stolen from him.

                “Looking gorgeous for my Karamatsu Girls, of course!” says Karamatsu like this is an acceptable answer. “What better way to appease them than by offering my services in Free Hugs™?”

                Choromatsu can’t stop the tiny “Ew” that escapes him at that. Nevertheless, he smiles because he’s genuinely missed this. Then it fades just as quickly. “Don’t you need a sign?”

                “I regrettably left it at home when I went out this morning,” he explains, looking somewhere over their heads.

                Suspicious.

                “So how have you been proposing Free Hugs™?”

                Karamatsu fits his chin between his thumb and forefinger and smirks, gaze still too high. “Heh, people will acknowledge the gifts you have to offer if you have faith, brother.”

                The other really can’t tell if he’s bullshitting or not. He can’t argue that this is a valid Karamatsu response, the level of idiotic and ridiculous that it is. Also, what the hell is he even looking it? Choromatsu turns to try and follow but all that’s behind them are tower blocks of varying sizes. They hold a mixture of restaurants, cafés, corner stores, and fashion retailers. There’s a sign hanging off the edge of one of the buildings advertising what’s inside while graciously offering the time and temperature. The same building has particularly gaudy looking mannequins on display on the fourth floor; one’s even sporting a bedazzled leather jacket. That’s probably—

                “What are you looking at, Nii-san!?”

                He’s surprised to hear Jyushimatsu ask, and when he turns back to his brothers, the youngest has grabbed the elder’s face and practically smashed their noses together to force Karamatsu to look at him. But the question continues to ring in Choromatsu’s head. Something in his little brother’s voice... A tremor? Mixed with what might’ve been a threat?

                “F-Forgive me. I was entranced by the beauty of the sky,” Karamatsu stammers out, visibly attempting to keep his cool by making an awkward Cool Guy pose while still in his baby brother’s grasp. The third brother doesn’t blame him. Jyushimatsu is… well, he’s Jyushimatsu. That alone makes him scary.

                Again, Choromatsu hates that he can’t tell if he’s lying or not.

                The oldest carefully pries himself free after a moment. “Ah, I wish we’d met earlier. Our time together was too short,” he suddenly laments.

                “What?”

                “I must go,” says Karamatsu, sure enough, turning to leave. The Green Matsu’s confusion is probably palpable when he inquires, “Why? Where are you going?”

                “For a run!” the other calls over his shoulder because he’s already running.

                “K-Karamatsu-niisan! Wai—“

                “Take care of my sunglasses, my little Jyushimatsu!” And suddenly their brother has vanished around the next corner.

                What the actual fuck.

                Choromatsu exchanges glances with his other twin, silently asking if what they’d seen was something that had actually happened. Jyushimatsu blankly smiles in return, shades still masking his eyes.

                No. This isn’t something he’s going to accept!

                “C’mon, Jyushimatsu!”

                The pair of them break into a run, the younger easily taking the lead. Karamatsu isn’t in sight when they circle that same corner, but he trusts his sibling’s absurd sense of smell to guide them. After a solid minute of running, he sees Jyushimatsu begin to slow his pace. They come to a stop near an intersection that seems… kind of familiar. The sextuplets have been here before, a couple times when they were younger. Choromatsu’s a little amazed at how long it’s been since he’s last visited where their father works.

                “Karamatsu-niisan went inside this building, Choromatsu-niisan,” says Jyushimatsu.

                It’s an office building connected to a warehouse of moving trucks. If he recalls correctly, it’s the main headquarters for the Hikkoshi movers company in this region of the country, where his father works in one of the offices for logistics.

                Now why… would Karamatsu come to their dad’s workplace? Better yet, why is he so obviously trying to hide it?

                “Choromatsu-niisan.” Jyushimatsu’s voice is uncharacteristically quiet when he calls him. He gestures toward the warehouse, fenced off from the general public by a chain-link. Sure enough, their older brother is on the other side, standing with a group of men they don’t recognize. Earlier, Choromatsu had thought the hue of Karamatsu’s jumpsuit seemed off, like it was faded. These people are all wearing matching blue jumpsuits. Karamatsu’s is no longer tied around his waist, and a nametag shines above his breast pocket.

                Admittedly, it takes a moment to fully register. Even when it does, it’s not easy to swallow. His brother doesn’t have a girlfriend. He has a job.

                Karamatsu has a job.

                The one who’d always boasted about having no plans where work was concerned, who said being irresponsible was a “compliment (Bang!)”, is the only one amongst these six shitty NEETs that’s working right now. And for how long? When had he started? When they were talking to him, had he been on break? More importantly, why is he hiding this? If it’d been Choromatsu, he would’ve proudly held it over his brothers’ heads from the very first day. Is he ashamed (for whatever nonsensical reason)? Is he embarrassed by his brothers like Totty had been when he was a barista (impossible when Karamatsu is the most embarrassing one)? Or maybe he thinks they won’t care if he… —Well anyway, this is why he’s barely been home the past… how many weeks? Choromatsu isn’t entirely sure. Time blurs when you’re a shitty NEET. But his brother tends to be gone far longer than what he assumes is a normal shift, sometimes from the early morn to late at night. What if… What if this isn’t his only job? No. No way. One job is hard enough to believe, but two?! That’s way too much to stomach!

                But what else could he possibly be doing? Is he avoiding them? Has he realized he doesn’t need them? Why does this feel so different from when Todomatsu hid that he was working? Why does Karamatsu suddenly feel so distant? The envy and confusion and hurt and anger assault him all at once and he feels sick, sick, sick.

                He’s jolted when a hand jerks him by the sleeve and he’s pulled flat against the building, just barely able to keep from busting his nose against the cement wall. He and Jyushimatsu are plastered shoulder to shoulder, and it settles in that they’re hiding.

                “Did he see us?” Choromatsu asks anxiously. Jyushimatsu gives a small shake of his head. “Don’t think so.”

                There’s a faint laughter that roars from what must be the group. When the pair of sextuplets peeks around the corner, they’re relieved to see Karamatsu doing some ridiculous pose while his peers laugh, but it’s anything but malicious. Some clap him on the shoulder or pat him on the back and suddenly Choromatsu’s chest hurts because even from this distance, his brother’s resulting smile looks so… genuine. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen one so honest. It hurts more to have the reason for Karamatsu’s sincerity so painfully obvious while laid out before them, painted in the kindness on each of these strangers’ faces—these strangers that might treat Karamatsu better than his own kin.

                He hears a sniffle from where Jyushimatsu crouches beneath him and he knows he’s not the only one who’s hurting.

                God, he had no idea he missed his brother this much.

                They keep watching until the group disperses and Karamatsu pulls himself into the driver’s side of one of the moving trucks while one of his coworkers takes the passenger’s seat, because of course. Of course, his brother suddenly knows how to drive. Of fucking course! It’s not like it takes months to get a license or anything!

                Lord only knows what else he’s kept secret from them.

                “Come on, Jyushimatsu.” He wants to leave before Karamatsu spots them on his way out. His heart can’t fucking take this anymore anyway. “Let’s go home.” He doesn’t even bother to hide the dejection in his words nor his face. He’s surprised when he feels Jyushimatsu grab his hand, and peers up to see that larger than life smile. It’s one that says he’s happy for their big brother, that he’s really, really proud of him, but it’s also one that’s trying to reassure his not so big brother that it’s okay, that Karamatsu had his reasons for not telling them these things. And it hurts, it hurts, it hurts…

                Jyushimatsu leads him home by the hand. He’s grateful because it would’ve been difficult to navigate with his eyes buried in the crook of his arm. A part of him is humiliated as a fully-grown man sobbing like a five-year-old and being led by his little brother, but also fuck everyone else, as the rest of him finds it impossible to care. At least Jyushimatsu is kind enough to carry his book so he doesn’t get snot and tears all over it. Choromatsu doesn’t think he can appreciate him any more than he already does in this moment.

                At least this explains the box cutter, he thinks dryly.

                He stops crying long before they make it home, but Jyushimatsu’s grip never loosens. At one point the younger stops, turns, and messily wipes at his big brother’s face with his sleeves, despite the other’s weak protests. When he’s done, Choromatsu can’t help but smile. Jyushimatsu beams. Then they continue. They arrive home in time for dinner, but don’t talk to their brothers much past the typical ‘we’re home’. He can see Todomatsu glancing at them worriedly, but pays him no attention. He’s too tired right now to humor any of his brothers.

                The third-born is only more irritated when their dad walks in about a half hour after them, with no Karamatsu. They work at the same company, right? Why do they get off at different times? But that’s not why he’s irritable. Not only had their father known (obviously having been the one to get Karamatsu the job in the first place), but there’s little doubt their mother had too, and they were keeping it from them! He can’t help the feeling of betrayal that eats at him when he refuses to meet his parents’ eyes, even if their mom had more than likely tipped them off because she’d wanted them to find out on their own. He doesn’t miss when she glances at him and Jyushimatsu, and hates it more when she smiles softly like she knew this would be the result.

                All of the brothers are lounging around the bedroom when Karamatsu finally steps into the house just after nine. Choromatsu can hear their father greet him downstairs, and it only serves to add to the bitterness weighing heavy in his gut when he catches them discussing something he can’t quite decipher, no doubt regarding this little secret they have going. Karamatsu gently slides open the door to the bedroom minutes later, and for once, everyone’s eyes are on him when he enters. He may be smirking, but he looks like shit.

                “What’ve you been doing, Karamatsu? You look like shit,” Osomatsu voices that unpolished thought they’re all sharing through their inexplicable sextuplet clairvoyance.

                Of course, he’s not offended by the comment. He rarely is. “I sought the Karamatsu Girls awaiting me in the city while soliciting Free Hugs™, then I worked out for a bit. I didn’t get much sleep last night though, so I wasn’t at the top of my game.”

                Liar. Liar. Liar!

                Choromatsu tries to suppress the hostile fury at Karamatsu’s practiced ability to blatantly deceive his brothers. He had always thought Todomatsu was the only snake among them.

                “Why didn’t you sleep well?” Osomatsu asks, catching everyone off guard. Well, almost everyone. Choromatsu’s growing indignance is keeping him from sharing in their collective mild shock.

                “Too hot,” says Karamatsu. It’s probably another lie, the third son thinks resentfully. Their oldest brother should stop wasting his breath. “Do you mind if I go ahead and roll out the futon? I know it’s early but the Sirens of sleep are beckoning me.”

                Choromatsu shoots up without thinking. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides, and although he really wants to say something else, he finds himself biting out, “I’ll help you.” A tiny part of him hopes the rest don’t notice the tension in his shoulders. The rest of him doesn’t give a shit. This uneven distribution of thought is becoming more and more commonplace as of late, and he’s not sure what to do about it.

                He walks over but doesn’t meet his brother’s eyes when he hears Karamatsu respond, “You’re a godsend, brother. But you needn’t bother yourself with a task so trivial.”

                Shut the fuck up.

                “If you overexert yourself, you’ll get sick. And I can assure you that none of us will want to take care of you when that happens,” Choromatsu retorts, and he’s well aware how harsh he sounds and it feels wrong. He’s hit with a mixture of complacency and uneasiness when none of their brothers argue that of course, they’ll take care of him.

                Nobody defends Karamatsu. Nobody ever defends Karamatsu, at least not for Karamatsu.

                He should know, because he’s the one that defends him the most. He defends him not because he wants to protect him, but because it’s the mature thing to do. It’s the sensible thing to do. As the “mature” and “sensible” brother—the “straight man”, Choromatsu feeds on the opportunities to “defend” Karamatsu like what he’s doing is something worth merit despite his ill found intentions. Choromatsu hates that he knows this, that he’s always known. He hates all of them. He hates Karamatsu. When had it come to this? When had his brother’s charade become something so much thicker than his Cool Guy shtick?

                Why is Karamatsu smiling at him after that shit he’d just said?

                Why?!

                …Ugh, it’s painful.

                Choromatsu falls asleep with Jyushimatsu holding his hand that night. He’s normally not big on physical affection, but his little brother’s warm touches are very much welcome. He focuses on their entwined fingers like a lifeline, because the scribbles fizzling in his head are loud and jumbled. He’s not used to his mind being in such disarray. It’s unsettling.

                He’s reading his book on the couch the next morning when Ichimatsu speaks up from where he’s sitting on the floor, playing with ESP kitty. And he doesn’t know how to react when the words muttered between them are, “You found out, didn’t you?”

                The third-born tenses, stares. His twin doesn’t look at him, but he’s stopped waving his cat toy. They’re alone in the bedroom. Karamatsu was gone by the time any of them had woken up. Jyushimatsu had dragged the eldest out of the house to force him to play baseball now that he doesn’t have Karamatsu to suck into his hobby. And Todomatsu is still in the bathroom.

                If Ichimatsu is asking him this only now, there’s only one thing he can be referring to.

                “…You knew?” he starts incredulously. He forces himself to relax when he catches his fingers crinkling the pages of his library book. His eyes bore into the back of his brother’s head, watches him as he slowly nods, and Choromatsu has no idea how to feel. He’s silent for a long time.

                “…How long have you known?” he quietly asks. He wants to shout, but he doesn’t want to scare his little brother off. Ichimatsu doesn’t impart many things of his own volition, and he’s proud to think it’s himself that Ichimatsu respects the most out of his older brothers. They get along relatively well, and Choromatsu doesn’t want to break that connection, as fragile as he fears it might be.

                Ichimatsu shrugs. “A few days.”

                The other marks his page, closes his book, takes a deep breath. “He told you?” He knows what answer he wants.

                “No. I saw him leave the house with dad and followed them.”

                Choromatsu sighs. He feels a little guilty feeling glad that Karamatsu at least hasn’t singled out a brother to trust above the rest.

                “Choromatsu-niisan.”

                “Hm?”

                Ichimatsu’s turned to face him now. He looks like he’s really struggling to get out there what he wants to say, and it has the older of the two a little worried if he’s being honest. He holds his gaze patiently, albeit nervously, but then the Purple Matsu turns away again and gets up. “Never mind,” he mutters. “I’m going to go feed the cats.”

                Choromatsu wants to stop him, wants to squeeze out what his sibling might’ve wanted to tell him, but he knows it’ll lead him nowhere. Besides, he’s already gone. He sighs again, resignedly this time, and reopens The Bottom of the Pit. Reading it is making him irritable, but he can’t put it down when he’s this close to finishing it. Daishi’s lies to his family have stacked to a point where his lies cover the lies covering his lies. He reasons with himself that he tells them nothing because he doesn’t want to burden them.

                It’s all hitting much too close to home.

                “Everyone gone?”

                Todomatsu makes a beeline for the closet to change into his hoodie, finally having finished whatever the fuck he does when he requisitions the bathroom. This is exactly why he goes last.

                “Yeah,” grunts Choromatsu curtly. He tends to get annoyed when his reading is disturbed, and this is the second interruption in less than five minutes while he’s already unreasonably irate. Todomatsu doesn’t seem to notice his dismissive tone as he dresses. The more likely case is that he notices it but has chosen to ignore it completely.

                “Know where they went?”

                “Jyushimatsu and Osomatsu are out playing baseball. Ichimatsu left to feed the cats.” Choromatsu pointedly doesn’t mention Karamatsu. It’s not like he should know anyway.

                Todomatsu hums with what’s probably disinterest in the answer to his own nosey inquiries, but says nothing else. His older brother is grateful for the respite, and even more so when the other departs without another word.

                He finishes The Bottom of the Pit around lunchtime, feeling like he would’ve enjoyed it more had he not been so bitter ever since yesterday, even if the story had ended up being less about Daishi’s depression and more about his stupid decisions as an angst-y teenager after the halfway point. Most of the climax was his twin getting into a fight with his gang leader, i.e. his girlfriend. The latter called her a good sister, passed a hint of envy paired with a mention of being an only child, and conceded defeat to escape with her boys, leaving the twins to reconcile. The exchange between them was agonizing to read, what with the flurry of poorly communicated emotion flying between them, but despite it all, it was heartwarming.

                At least, it would’ve been, again, had Choromatsu not been so fucking bitter. He envies these stupid fictional characters in their stupid fictional world where resolutions are almost always guaranteed to be reached, where all the questions are answered by the end of it. It’s unfair and it’s unrealistic. There are fingers running through his hair before he realizes his hand has moved, but he welcomes his own unconscious action to get himself to relax. Then he stands and heads to the library. He has nothing better to do anyway, what with not having a job and all.

                Has he mentioned he’s bitter?

                Because he is. About a lot of things.

                The sextuplet doesn’t check out another book upon returning the first, and after about another fifteen minutes of wandering about the neighborhood aimlessly, he winds up near Chibita’s oden stand. There are no other customers occupying the bench, and Choromatsu sees that as an invitation to sit down without much thought. The creak of the wood catches Chibita’s attention from where he’s been peeling boiled eggs. He grins a little in acknowledgement, but refocuses on his current task instead of engaging him in full. Choromatsu is grateful for the peace.

                “How’ve you been, Chibita?” He’s the first to break the silence after a minute, appearing deeply interested in his twiddling fingers.

                “Been alright. You?”

                “Eh… I don’t know right now,” he answers honestly.

                He doesn’t get a response to that, but that’s fine. He doesn’t need to talk to enjoy Chibita’s company. They used to be so mean to him as kids, so he can’t help but admire the other’s tenacity. It reminds him of someone else and he can’t help but laugh a little, because it makes sense why Karamatsu and him get along so well, even if the similarity there fills him with nothing but guilt.

                “Here.”

                He almost jumps when a bowl of oden is practically thrown at him, but fortunately, it hits the table with only minor spills. Choromatsu can’t help but blink up at his friend questioningly, but Chibita isn’t looking at him. He’s already invested in chopping some onions off in his corner.

                “Th-Thanks, Chibita,” he stammers uncertainly, reaching for a pair of chopsticks. He actually hadn’t meant to order anything when he sat down, but with something that smelled so good, he’s quick to realize how hungry he apparently is.

                “Eat up, ya idjit,” is all the other says, and he doesn’t need to say it twice. The silence between them as Choromatsu eats and Chibita works is somehow gratifying. He wonders if Karamatsu comes here on his own sometimes to just enjoy this comforting atmosphere.

                When he’s done, he reaches for his wallet and searches the contents for a couple five hundred yen coins, careful not to crinkle his Nyaa-chan concert tickets. But then Chibita’s voice booms from the other end of the stall and startles him. “It’s on the house! The hell! Ya idjit! Damn it!”

                “Eh?” Choromatsu glances at him, then down at his empty bowl. Without his brothers here to influence him, he wants to be responsible. “But we already have so much on our tab. I can’t let you do that.” He really has no idea just how much at this point. There’s no telling.

                “Ah, that. Your brother took care of it.”

                “Huh?” he starts too soon. The actuality is that he doesn’t want to hear it.

                “Kara-boy swung by last week and paid it off. Wouldn’t tell me how he got the money, but the rest of ya idjits got off scot free.”

                That’s exactly what he didn’t want to hear.

                “He’s a good guy. He looks so tired when I see him lately. He won’t tell me anything though, damn it. I’m worried, damn it!” Chibita fusses offhandedly. “Know what’s going on with him?”

                Does he?

                “No,” he grumbles, because it’s true. He doesn’t know jack shit.

                “…Hmm, treat him well, yeah?”

                This catches the Matsuno off guard.

                “He may not be the only brother you got, but you’ll miss him when he’s gone,” he claims with a smirk.

                Joke’s on you, asshole. Choromatsu already misses him.

                And don’t say ‘when’. Damn it…

                “I’ll never understand how someone as delicate as him grew up amongst you monsters. Heh, he doesn’t quite fit in, does he?”

                “You’re wrong.”

                His fists are clenched under the bar, and he feels a little bad for snapping after Chibita’s treated him so kindly, but apparently Chibita doesn’t know jack shit either.

                “Karamatsu-niisan’s not delicate. Not even close.” He’s resilient, frighteningly so. That’s why it’s scary to think his brother might finally be fed up with them, to think they’d pushed him that far. He could be jumping the gun since Karamatsu hasn’t treated any of them with any less amount of compassion, but he can’t help the paranoia. “He is different, but he’s still a monster like the rest of us.” A kind, selfless, airheaded big brother of a monster they’ve all taken for granted. ‘He’s a monster too,’ he tries to convince himself. ‘He fits in.’

                He tries really hard to convince himself.

                “The hell. I guess you know him better than I do,” says Chibita flippantly.

                “Yeah…” Choromatsu stands and forces a smile he knows looks fake. “I guess.” He’s glad his friend makes no comment on it if he’s noticed. “Thanks, Chibita. For everything.”

                He looks like he wasn’t expecting to hear that, but he smirks. “Go on. Get out of here, ya idjit.”

                Choromatsu doesn’t care to do much upon arriving home again. He joins Osomatsu where he’s flipping through channels on the couch, and proceeds to do something that catches his brother by surprise: he cuddles up to him with his back leaning against his older brother’s side. He can’t see the other’s face from the way he’s sitting, but he can feel the vibrations against his shoulder. Osomatsu is laughing.

                “Gross. What’s gotten into you?” he facetiously questions. “I mean, not that I’m complaining. Onii-chan always welcomes his baby brothers’ affections.”

                Choromatsu punches his head with the back of his own head, pulling a satisfying yelp from his useless older brother. “I feel like “gross” qualifies as a complaint. What’s gross is that cutesy title you’ve grown so fond of, Nii-san.”

                “If I don’t call myself that, no one else will.”

                “You’re damn right.”

                Osomatsu tuts. “No mercy. That cuts deep, Cherry.”

                “Who’s Cherry?” the other growls with warning, but he’s too tired to punch him again with his head. He enjoys the next couple minutes of silence, almost falling asleep, until Osomatsu breaks it. “Still worried about Karachin?”

                His brother has no idea.

                “Yeah,” he breathes, eyes shut. “Hurry up and take care of it like you said you would, useless eldest.”

                A chuckle. “I’m working on it.”

                He’s probably not, but Choromatsu feels a little lighter regardless. Osomatsu procrastinates, and even when he says he’ll do something, often times he deliberately won’t do it. That’s just the kind of asshole their unreliable eldest brother is. But he’s serious when he has to be, and serious Osomatsu gets things done. Albeit not with the best methods, but the idea is comforting at least, should the situation arise.

                He hadn’t anticipated the tiny reprieve to be so short-lived when Todomatsu later pulls him to the side while they’re leaving the bathhouse that night. Earlier, the youngest had looked like he’d been crying. Jyushimatsu swooped in as soon as he’d noticed, attempting to cheer him up without asking what was wrong. Osomatsu had followed by teasing their littlest brother good-naturedly, and the pair of them were successful in at least getting him to smile. Choromatsu had stayed out of it, usually the brother to get right to the heart of the problem. But he’s not sure he can deal with two brothers’ problems at the same time. Hell, he can’t even handle it when it’s just one apparently.

                “Choromatsu-niisan,” Todomatsu murmurs quietly, lightly tugging at his big brother’s sleeves. He looks like he might start crying again when he says, “I need to… You need to…!” He whimpers and Choromatsu can almost see the words getting caught in his throat.

                Fortunately, the other three are well down the street, seemingly oblivious that they’ve left two of their own behind. He takes a step between him and their line of sight in case they glance back, then places his hands on his little brother’s shoulders to try and comfort him. What he doesn’t predict is for Todomatsu to lurch forward and latch onto his chest. He sobs once, but after that, he’s mostly silent, save for some unsteady breathing. The third son rubs circles into his back, still unsure of what exactly he “needs to” do. But he decides not to push it. His twin will spit it out when he’s ready.

                About a minute passes until he hears, or rather feels something muffled against his clothing.

                “What was that?”

                Todomatsu shifts so his face is no longer buried. “Karamatsu-niisan, he…”

                That catches his attention.

                “He what?” he treads carefully, suddenly feeling stiff. He must’ve sounded irritated because Todomatsu stiffens too. Then he steps back and away from his brother and Choromatsu thinks for a moment that he’s messed up, but the younger avoids his gaze and says, “I think he tried to drown himself.”

                His older brother stops breathing for a second. He’s staring but his eyes are unseeing.

                “What… W-What makes you say that?”

                The sixth-born bites his lip before he answers, “Kaa-san said that when she… when she found his clothes early this morning, they were soaked. And there were…” He swallows. “She said there were rocks in his pockets.”

                Choromatsu takes a breath, tries to think. Everyone saw Karamatsu come home last night; he was completely dry. Had he snuck out some time while they were sleeping…? He jolts when he remembers what he’d said to him last night. If Todomatsu is right, it could’ve been the last thing he’d ever said to his older brother. The last thing Karamatsu would’ve heard from any of his siblings was that basically none of them cared.

                God, he’s such a fucking idiot.

                “I’m such a coward, Nii-san,” mumbles Todomatsu while trying to wipe the tearstains from his face. “I tried to talk to him about it earlier, but I couldn’t…! I just couldn’t!”

                The elder wraps his arms around him firmly this time. “You’re not a coward,” he states. If Todomatsu had at least tried, he’s less of a coward than Choromatsu is. He tries to count the occasions in which he’d actually held what could qualify as a conversation with Karamatsu over the past five days, since he’d first seen the drop of blood on the floor of the bathroom. He plays and replays it all and the total each time comes out to something small enough to count on one hand: five. Five instances where he’d talked to Karamatsu over the course of five days. Each of those moments had been as opportune time as any to ask Karamatsu what he’d wanted to know, instead of ignoring him in favor of discovering it for himself in the most roundabout way. And here, it took less than twenty-four hours for Totty to attempt to talk to him following this morning’s conversation with their mother.

                And he’d always thought he was the smart one.

                By the time they get home, Karamatsu has already rolled out the futon and he’s dead asleep under the covers. That’s okay. Choromatsu doesn’t plan to waste any more time in confronting his brother. So, following breakfast the next morning, Choromatsu catches Karamatsu after he’s gotten dressed. He practically blocks him on his descent down the stairwell, earning him a somewhat quizzical look. He’s wearing a white tank top bearing his face and (surprisingly normal) blue sweats, the younger realizes with some relief. Maybe it’s his brother’s day-off today, in which case, lucky break.

                “Something you need, brother?” Karamatsu is the first to speak during their awkward standoff. Choromatsu resolutely squares his shoulders. “What’s your plan today?”

                There’s an eyebrow raise behind his sunglasses. He seems slightly put off, but he smirks. “Heh, I was about to go for a run.”

                Choromatsu has a feeling that phrase is going to irk him for a while. He’s still bitter about that whole ordeal, by the way.

                “Let me join you.” The intensity of his gaze dares his brother to challenge him. He’s standing close enough to notice the number of times Karamatsu blinks at the assertion; it’s a lot.

                “You work out, Choromatsu?”

                He doesn’t, and he knows the other Matsuno isn’t trying to be cheeky, but the pleasant inquiry pisses him off a bit anyway, so he doesn’t answer it.

                “Wait for me. I’ll go get changed,” he orders without leaving room for argument. He rushes upstairs and has some trouble trying to locate the tracksuit he used to wear in high school, but it’s the only exercise clothing he has. Ichimatsu eventually tells him that it’s collecting dust in the very back of the closet when he overhears him quietly cursing to himself. Choromatsu thanks him, and he’s still pulling on his jacket when he zips back downstairs, half afraid Karamatsu had decided to leave him behind. But his big brother is sitting on the living room couch with Todomatsu cuddled into his side, much like Choromatsu had been with Osomatsu yesterday. The older has his arms spread on the couch head while their youngest sibling shows him something on his phone.

                “Isn’t this one cute, Nii-san? Oh, this one would look good on you!”

                “Hmm? I don’t know if that one would fit in with my perfect fashi—“

                “Shh, forget your ‘perfect fashion’ for a moment,” Totty shushes calmly. “Give your fans’ eyes a rest. We’re talking normal fashion right now.”

                Choromatsu almost doesn’t want to interrupt their bonding, but he needs to do this. He knows their youngest brother knows it too. “Karamatsu-niisan,” he calls from the doorway, prompting the other two to look up.

                “Ah, we’ll continue this later, Totty,” said brother removes himself from the sofa to join him. “Ready?”

                Choromatsu nods, and together they glance at their third party. “We’ll be back later.”

                Todomatsu’s gaze lingers on the Green Matsu just a tick longer than the second son, then he nods in understanding, smiles in farewell. “Have a good run, Karamatsu-niisan! Choromatsu-niisan!”

                Outside, Choromatsu realizes he’s just a bit nervous. Okay, that’s a lie. He’s pretty nervous. About a lot of things. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his brother stretching. He should be doing the same, right? He hasn’t properly exercised since high school, but he knows Karamatsu won’t fault him for it.

                “Let’s roll, brother!”

                Wait! Shit! He’s not ready! He’s not ready!

                But Karamatsu has already started his jog. Choromatsu tries not to trip over himself catching up, but luckily, the other is keeping a leisurely pace. If it were Jyushimatsu, he would’ve already lost him in that split second of hesitation. He’s able to match speed with his sibling decently enough, and if he starts to fall behind a bit, Karamatsu slows down to compensate. He has no idea where they’re going, but the second-born seems to.

                “Hey Karamatsu-niisan,” he abruptly speaks up between puffs. He struggles to ignore how inferior he feels hearing the other’s steady breaths.

                “Hmm?”

                Choromatsu ponders what he wants to ask. He doesn’t want to bring up anything serious yet, but he still wants to talk to his brother. He wants to hear his voice, even if talking will cause him to breathe harder than necessary.

                “What’s Ichimatsu’s favorite color?”

                Karamatsu doesn’t hesitate.

                “Blue, right? Though I guess that might’ve changed. He said that years ago.”

                Choromatsu hopes he’s not being a narcissistic shit and decides to take his word for it.

                “And Jyushimatsu’s?”

                “Yellow, of course!”

                There’s some silence only cut by their breathing.

                “What’s Osomatsu-niisan’s favorite food?”

                “He said he really liked yakisoba once, but I think that’s for when he wants to start drinking. I think he favors beer over any food or drink.”

                “…And what’s my favorite Nyaa-chan song?”

                Karamatsu makes a finger gun and winks when he answers with poise, “Heh. Isn’t it ‘Purrfect is Impawssible’ from her third extended play?”

                Choromatsu almost halts out of pure astonishment. He barely even registers the ridiculous sparkles floating around his brother’s face when he urges for confirmation.

                “Bingo?”

                “…Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

                Why… does he know that? Until that response, the other answers were unimpressive. Choromatsu could’ve even accepted that his brother was pulling this information out of his ass, but he’s not.

                He doesn’t ask his brother anymore questions like that, deciding instead to enjoy the silence. Or at least, it would’ve been silence had the third-born not felt like he was about to lose a lung. He only feels marginally better noticing the other is breathing a little heavier now. They jog for quite a while, taking minute breaks here and there. At some point, Karamatsu stops them near a convenience store and buys him a bottle of water, which Choromatsu gratefully accepts while hunched over, hands on his knees.

                “Doesn’t it feel great, brother? The hot caress of the sun? The tender ache of your joints? The rewarding soreness in your lungs? Ah, running is truly freeing!”

                “You sound like a masochist. Are you a masochist? You’re a masochist, aren’t you?” he accuses breathlessly, but he’s beaming. He downs the entire bottle in one go because he knows he won’t be able to carry it with him. It isn’t long before they’re on their way again, and Choromatsu still has no idea where he’s taking him. After another something-odd minutes, Karamatsu stops, and Choromatsu stops a couple steps ahead. He looks back at his brother curiously.

                That is until he recognizes this intersection, as well as the building and the warehouse to their right.

                “Choromatsu, I have something to tell you.”

                Oh.

                He nods, but doesn’t respond. To say he hadn’t expected this turn of events would be a massive understatement.

                “I got a job,” Karamatsu confesses with a small smile. The statement is careful, almost ashamed, like he supposes his brother might be angry with him for doing such a thing. …And Choromatsu guesses he kind of is. Wow.

                He does his best to feign ignorance, but he knows already that he’s not going to do a good job. “O-Oh really? Where at?”

                There’s a gesture to the building the third and fifth-born had flattened themselves against just two days ago.

                “Right here, where dad works.” He slowly removes his glasses and continues. “I-I actually wanted you to be the first to know.”

                He stifles the impulse to ask why. Why did Karamatsu choose him?

                As it turns out, Choromatsu is the brother Karamatsu has chosen to single out and trust above the rest.

                He forces the largest grin he can muster. It’s sad because he really wishes it was genuine, because for all his bitterness, he’s still happy for Karamatsu. But there’s just so much going on with his older brother that his feelings are too complicated to sift through.

                “That’s fantastic, Karamatsu-niisan! When did you start?” he can’t help but ask. He’s been curious ever since he’d found out and the short-lived suspense is killing him.

                The other brightens a little at the praise. “Just under a month ago.”

                God, that long ago?

                “Are you angry?” Karamatsu’s smile is already fading under his anxiety.

                “For what?” Choromatsu stalls. He wishes he can honestly say that he has no idea what Karamatsu is talking about.

                For once, Karamatsu looks away, no longer able to look his brother in the eye. “For keeping it from you guys.”

                “I mean, a little bit…” he admits, though he’s downplaying it. “But you had your reasons, right?”

                Karamatsu chuckles. It’s soft and empty of his usual bravado. The younger watches as he fiddles with the notch in his hair. “I did.”

                There’s another interval of silence between them, but this time it feels awkward, at least to Choromatsu.

                “Choromatsu, I…” his brother starts. He’s never seen him look so tense, and it has him worried. But then his expression softens a little. “Don’t tell the rest, okay?” comes the sudden plea. “I don’t think I’m ready to tell them yet.”

                He understands the hesitation to do so. The last time one of them got a job, five of them subsequently decided to leave home. That didn’t go over so well.

                “I won’t. Don’t worry.”

                Choromatsu chews on his lower lip as the quiet returns. He thinks about all the hints he’s seen over the past several days, about what Todomatsu told him the night before. But if he brings all that up now, he’s afraid it’ll ruin this moment. It might ruin this misplaced trust Karamatsu had in telling him first about his job. It will most definitely ruin the already fragile mood, at the very least. He doesn’t want any of that.

                He’s missed his brother too much to lose him now.

                But he doesn’t know when he’ll get another opportunity like this.

                “Karamatsu-niisan…” he begins.

                The other meets his eyes again. He tries not to wring his hands nervously, chooses instead to cling to the hem of his jacket.

                “There’s… There’s this Nyaa-chan concert tomorrow and… I-I have this extra ticket I wasn’t going to use…”

                One of his strategies is to aggressively ignore the problem until he can solve it with confidence.

                Choromatsu’s not confident yet.