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Nobody knew how it had happened, and everybody was afraid to ask.
Nevertheless, somehow the fates had conspired to provide the fifth brother of the Matsuno sextuplets with a pair of tickets to a Central League baseball game.
It was Jyushimatsu’s dream come true. It was the other five brothers’ worst nightmare. No power on earth could surpass Jyushimatsu’s love for all things baseball, and as the day approached his excitement became impossible to contain as he rocketed around the house like a punctured balloon: unpredictable, destructive, and noisy.
And there was the matter of the extra ticket. It wasn’t like Jyushimatsu had anybody to invite. His country girl had long since gone home, and Kin-chan was gone too. There was always Totoko, but nobody had even the slightest expectation that she would accept, and accordingly, they didn’t bother asking. And the only more terrifying thought than being in close proximity to Jyushimatsu’s boundless enthusiasm for an entire afternoon was letting him loose on the unsuspecting public alone.
So one of the remaining five would have to go with him.
“I’m not going. Too many people,” said Ichimatsu, before anybody else had said anything. The brothers, sans Jyushimatsu, who was outside swinging his baseball bat with unchecked zeal, had gathered around the living room table to hold conference over the issue.
“I’m busy that day,” said Todomatsu.
“Busy doing what?” said Choromatsu, annoyed.
“Oh, you know. This and that.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Well, what are you doing that day, Choromatsu-niisan?”
Choromatsu sputtered. Osomatsu laughed. “He got you there, Fappymatsu.”
“Shouldn’t you be the one going? You’re the eldest,” Choromatsu shot back.
“What? Hey, come on...”
“Non non non, brothers,” Karamatsu broke in. “It harms my heart to see us quarrel so. We must decide in a fair and just manner!”
The others turned identical looks of long suffering upon him. “...So we should put it to a vote?” said Todomatsu.
Karamatsu folded his arms with a satisfied smirk. “Indeed, dear brother. Let the voice of democracy be heard!”
Glances were exchanged. Then, with a lazy grin, Osomatsu said, “All right...on three then. One...two...three!”
Everybody pointed at Karamatsu.
And so it was that on the day of the game, Karamatsu found himself in the stands of the Meiji Jingu Stadium, home of the Tokyo Yakult Swallows, who would be facing off against the Chunichi Dragons. Jyushimatsu was beside him, wearing a grin so wide it threatened to split his face in two, and practically vibrating with excitement in his seat.
Karamatsu was already exhausted with the effort to keep his brother contained on the train ride over; Jyushimatsu had very nearly gotten them kicked off when he insisted on practising his swings in the crowded car.
“You’re not going to be the one playing, you know,” Osomatsu had pointed out before they left. Jyushimatsu had decked himself out in full baseball attire, bat, cleats, and all.
“Yep!” he replied cheerfully.
Osomatsu just shook his head. “And Karamatsu...where the hell do you think you’re going? A disco?”
Karamatsu was wearing his sunglasses, leather jacket, sparkling pants, and a tank top with his face on it. He winked over the top of his sunglasses. “Heh. Life is the greatest disco of all...” he said.
“Die, Shittymatsu,” growled Ichimatsu, from the hallway. He absently stroked the cat he was holding as he watched his brothers prepare to depart, eyes following Jyushimatsu as the boy slung his bat over his shoulder and headed out the door with a cry of, “Hustle, hustle! Muscle, muscle!”
“Fear not, Ichimatsu,” Karamatsu told him. “I will take the greatest care in watching over our sweet Jyushimatsu in your stead.”
Ichimatsu’s lip curled derisively, but Karamatsu took heart in the glimmer of relief in his little brother’s eye. Osomatsu clapped a hand on Karamatsu’s shoulder.
“Good luck out there,” he’d said, grinning.
So here they were, at the field. The game was due to start any minute now, the players lining up on the field after their warm up. Cheers went up from the crowd as the players went to their positions; the Swallows were batting first, and Jyushimatsu leapt up from his chair in excitement as the batter took the mound, rasing his own bat into the air and whooping wildly.
Truly, Karamatsu was blessed to be here with him on this day—or so he’d like to think, but then Jyushimatsu’s flailing sleeve knocked his sunglasses off, underneath the foot of a passing spectator in the aisle.
“Ah,” Jyushimatsu said. “Oops.”
“Never fear!” said Karamatsu, whipping out another pair of sunglasses from his pocket. “Preparation is the very essence of manliness.”
Jyushimatsu nodded enthusiastically, then resumed watching the game.
It happened again, less than a minute later. The exact same thing! Karamatsu watched forlornly as his second pair of sunglasses were crunched unceremoniously under the foot of a passing vendor.
“...Ah,” said Jyushimatsu. “Oops.”
Karamatsu quickly put on a brave face, whipping yet another pair of sunglasses out from yet another pocket. “It must be destiny...yes, I foresaw this very future just this morning, and so I packed three pairs of sunglasses to avert my catastrophic fate.”
“Is that your last pair?” said Jyushimatsu.
“...Er, well, yes. Please don’t break them.”
“Okay!”
Karamatsu sighed with relief. Jyushimatsu was back at it again in seconds, cheering racously as the first pitch was served. A melody rose from the crowd; it was the Swallow’s team song. Of course Jyushimatsu knew the words, and while he couldn’t carry a tune, he more than made up for it in volume.
Karamatsu sat back, smiling to himself. Aside from knowing how to play, he actually cared little for baseball. So he watched his brother instead. It was more than enough entertainment to watch Jyushimatsu’s fist pump in the air with joy when a batter scored, or when he mimed swinging a bat—thankfully having been persuaded to put his own in Karamatsu’s possession for the game—and the light in his eyes shone brighter than the sun. Karamatsu gave himself a mental pat on the back. This joy was made possible because of him...ah, the blessing of elder brotherhood!
“Karamatsu-niisan? Karamatsu-niisan.”
He snapped out of it. Jyushimatsu was looking at him expectantly; he realized belatedly that it was already the end of the first inning, as the players moved around on the field. “Yes, brother?” he said.
“I was gonna get a drink! You want something?” said Jyushimatsu.
Karamatsu laughed heartily. “Ha ha ha! How could I ever turn down such an earnest offer?”
“Okay. You want a beer?”
“No drink can quench the flames of passion burning in my heart,” proclaimed Karamatsu.
“...You want a beer?”
“Heh. A beer will do just fine, brother.”
Jyushimatsu’s head bobbed up and down, grin firmly in place. “Okay! Gimme your wallet.”
Oh. Karamatsu had assumed...well, never mind, he could hardly say no now. It would be all kinds of uncool, and he simply couldn’t have that. Producing his wallet with a flourish, he smirked. “I’ll await your return, brother!”
It was just before the second inning began when Jyushimatsu returned with beer and food in tow—the expensive kind, Karamatsu realized with a pang, as Jyushimatsu handed back over his considerably lighter wallet. But no! Only the best for his brother on his day; look at how excited he was. Jyushimatsu bounced restlessly in his seat as he waited for the game to resume, craning his neck to see the edge of the field over the heads of the crowd in front of them. Karamatsu had thought Jyushimatsu’s level of excitement had peaked at the start of the game, but boy was he ever wrong: Jyushimatsu’s favorite player was about to take the plate.
“Karamatsu-niisan! Karamatsu-niisan! It’s him! It’s him! Batter-up! Strike! Game set!”
Karamatsu looked, although it was difficult for him to focus with Jyushimatsu shaking his shoulder so hard it rattled his teeth. “I see him, Jyushimatsu,” he managed to get out.
Thankfully Jyushimatsu stopped shaking him a moment later, in favor of standing up and belting out the man’s personal cheer song—off key and out of time with the rest of the crowd, but enthusiastic regardless.
Karamatsu settled in to watch the game. The Swallows, Jyushimatsu’s favoured team, were in the lead, which was fortunate. No, no, fortune wouldn’t do. They must be in the lead, as any other way would be unthinkable on this day. It had to be Karamatsu’s presence that made this possible, for it was he that the heavens smiled upon.
The batter had two strikes, and a hush had settled over the crowd, thousands of breaths collectively held. Jyushimatsu was staring at the batter’s mound with a look of intense concentration. Karamatsu followed his gaze; the pitcher was winding up. Here came the pitch...unconsciously, Karamatsu leaned forward in his seat, pulling down his sunglasses to watch over the top as the ball whizzed through the air in a straight line, and with a solid thwack, the bat connected cleanly and the ball changed directions, soaring across the stadium...
Towards them.
The crowd erupted into cheers as the batter threw aside his bat and started running, but this all barely registered to Karamatsu, as his eyes were fixed on his prize: the ball curving in a lazy arc upwards and outwards towards the stands where he sat. Fate had brought him here this day, and fate had provided him with this, his shining moment, where he would catch the ball and gift it to his brother as proof of their unbreakable bond.
He stood up, flinging his arm out to command Jyushimatsu’s attention as he pushed his sunglasses back up. “Brother! Stand back and behold, as I catch this ball for you!” he cried.
“Okay!” said Jyushimatsu, and Karamatsu felt the thrill of victory at hand as the ball came down, and he lifted his hand, and then he felt himself get lifted, and—
“J-Jyushimatsu?!”
“HOME RUN!” bellowed Jyushimatsu, as he swung Karamatsu by the legs with a force that defied human reason, and the ball connected with Karamatsu’s face.
When Karamatsu came to, it was in the stadium first aid center, lying on a bed. The first thing he saw was Jyushimatsu’s cavernous grin looming over him, startling him into complete wakefulness immediately as he shot upright like a spring.
“GYYYAHHH!” he yelped, uncooly.
“Karamatsu-niisan!” yelled Jyushimatsu, equally loudly, and then at normal (for him) volume: “You had a concussion.”
“I...what?” He looked around, disoriented. What on earth had happened...? Where were his shades?
“You hit your face really hard.”
Now that he mentioned it...Karamatsu felt his face, breathing a sigh of relief as he found his shocking good looks undamaged. But when he felt his forehead, his fingers were met with cloth, and in the middle of his brow he felt a throbbing ache under the bandage. “What happened?” he managed to ask.
Jyushimatsu’s gaze slid to the side, and he flapped his sleeves dismissively. “Umm...you hit your face. Really hard.”
“Jyushimatsu...”
His little brother was spared from answering by a balding man with round spectacles perched on his nose entering the room. The nurse, Karamatsu suspected.
“Ah, Matsuno-san, you’re awake. Good, good. You weren’t out for very long, your brother carried you here quickly.”
“Ah...thank you, my brother,” said Karamatsu. Jyushimatsu grinned at him, but the grin froze when he continued, “Doctor, what happened to me? Why was I unconscious?”
“Hmm? You don’t remember? Follow this with your eyes,” he instructed, moving a pen back and forth in front of Karamatsu’s face. “It seems that your brother, made an....erm...creative attempt to catch a flyball in the stadium.”
“I hit a homerun!” said Jyushimatsu cheerfully, making a motion as if he were swinging a bat. Despite his enthusiasm, he was avoiding Karamatsu’s eyes.
It was filtering back to him...his valiant effort to catch the ball for Jyushimatsu...standing tall and proud in the stands, waiting for the moment the ball fell into his hands...the shock of suddenly being lifted off the ground....the ball, two inches from his face as he swung to meet it. “Ah,” he said. “...Did you get to keep the ball?”
“Nope. Somebody else caught it after I hit it! I wanna find them so I can sign it.”
“I, too, will add my signature, to impart the full power of our brotherly bond upon—“
The nurse clicked off the penlight he’d been shining into Karamatsu’s eyes, shaking his head with a sigh. “All right, all right. Are you experiencing any dizzyness or trouble with your memory, Matsuno-san?”
“Memories...my most precious treasure. No matter how painful they may be, I will always keep them in my heart.”
“...Yes or no?”
“Everything all good!” he said in English, with fingerguns to boot.
“Is that a yes?”
“Heh. Of course, it must be so...”
The nurse sighed. “You’re free to go.”
“I owe you my life,” said Karamatsu. “Is there any way I can be of service—“
“Can you leave? We might have other patients.”
“Come on, Karamatsu-niisan!” said Jyushimatsu, grabbing his arm and dragging him from the room. “The game isn’t over yet!”
Not much had changed in the time Karamatsu had been out. The Swallows were still in the lead, pulling ahead by another home run as the crowd cheered. They found their seats again easily, although Karamatsu marveled at how far it was from the nurse station—didn’t the doctor say Jyushimatsu carried him?
It wasn’t long before the game had ended: 5-3 in favour of the Swallows. Jyushimatsu was ecstatic.
“We won, we won!” he cheered, jumping up and down with explosive energy.
Karamatsu smiled. It was a shame his last pair of sunglasses were broken, as Jyushimatsu told him, because he would have normally looked over the top of them here for dramatic effect. “Of course, my little Jyushimatsu...I—“ he stopped for a moment, started again, “you are the angel of victory smiling upon them this day.”
Jyushimatsu stopped jumping up and down, looking at Karamatsu with a blinding grin. “Karamatsu-niisan...I’m glad you came with me today! I’m glad we could get the best food. And I’m glad you helped me make a super-ultra-king homerun! I had a really good time! Thanks for coming!”
Karamatsu blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected...nobody ever thanked him for.... “Of course!” he proclaimed, with a hearty laugh. “I would do anything for my dear, sweet little brother.”
Jyushimatsu grinned wider. “Okay! Next time, you can be the ball too!”
...Wait, what?