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Osomatsu's heavy footsteps thudded against the carpeted floor from door to ornate door, heaving each one open as he went.
"Karamatsu! Karamatsu!"
Dark smoke filled his lungs with each desperate pant. His voice was shredded already, his throat screaming in pain right along with him, and his legs were already like lead. He was practically dragging himself along the hallway at this point.
But he couldn't afford to stop. He needed to find his brother.
"Karamatsu, where are you!?"
Flames were fast approaching from behind—he could see it in his peripheral. The hall was so hot already. Osomatsu didn't realize just how hot a fire could get before now.
This had to be the villagers' doing. The total lack of guards around during such a disaster was a big enough red flag, but if they were coming for him, they would not lay their hands on his brother.
"Osomatsu," came the call that nearly had him fainting in relief. It was somewhere down the hall, where he saw the beginnings of new flames approaching, along with a distant figure. "Osomatsu, where are you?"
"Karamatsu! I'm right here!"
Osomatsu sucked in a grating breath, making his way towards his brother's voice, and he thought it so strange that the footsteps on the other end would be so calm. So slow.
Until he saw his brother's silhouette, with what looked to be a sword at his side.
"Karamatsu," he said again as he slowed, confusion coloring the name, and something caught in his throat and led to a coughing fit that left him doubled over where he stood.
Karamatsu slowed in kind, head downturned, and stopped a few feet away.
"What—What are you doing…? We have to get out of here. They're attacking the castle—I think they're… after me."
His brother raised his head, sword glinting in his grasp. He was crying.
Osomatsu's already-sinking heart dropped, cold, into his belly.
"Don't… Karamatsu, don't do this."
Karamatsu took a step forward.
"No. No. After everything I did for you?"
He kept coming.
"You're joking!" Osomatsu recoiled backwards, a flare of anger erupting from him. "Those people outside, they meant nothing to you years ago. What changed, where?"
His vision was shaking—every part of him was, actually, with barely-contained rage. He lurched forward head-first, all but bellowing at the other man.
"They're after my head, and you're on their side? What could they have done to make you go against your own brother!?"
But he wouldn't listen.
Osomatsu knew he wouldn't.
Karamatsu was just shaking his head back and forth, approaching slowly with that stupid sword that he probably didn't even know how to use, with tears rolling down his cheeks, like he was the one about to be hurt, like he was the one being hurt, and the droplets that fell into the flames acted like gasoline, and it was all fire, his vision was all red and orange and flashing and burning and he felt so so hot like he was roasting alive and it was painful and it was pitiful and it was over.
Just like that.
It was over.
Osomatsu woke with a start, pulling his head up from the table in a rush. His hands darted out to grasp at the air in an attempt to ground himself in the real world.
God. Not this dream again.
He dragged a hand down his face, and on finding how clammy his skin was, he grimaced and wiped the sweat off on the sleeve of his pajamas.
He'd been out in the living room to kill some time after a few failed attempts at sleep. Clearly, a can of beer was enough to shake off his insomnia, but if he had known that dream was in line for him tonight, he would probably have just pulled an all-nighter.
Well, if he'd had the dream…
"Osomatsu."
A voice croaked from the hallway outside, and Osomatsu didn't need to turn around to identify its owner. But he did anyway, focusing his eyes in the dim moonlight on the silhouette at the doorway.
There stood Karamatsu, empty-handed.
He sniffled.
"C'mere," said Osomatsu, like it was the most natural thing in the world, because it was. Karamatsu obliged, much in the same vein.
His brother was at his side in moments, an arm wrapping around his shoulder. Osomatsu could feel his trembling, even from such a light form of contact. He couldn't blame Karamatsu in the least.
How many times had this happened in their lives?
"I'm sorry," said Karamatsu finally, hushed voice shaking.
"No need," replied Osomatsu, now fully embracing the second eldest.
They sat together for a while, curled up against each other, silently consoling and being consoled. The best thing they could do right now was assure each other that they were both still here, still present. Still together.
"...I wouldn't do it, you know," said the younger brother, after his nerves had calmed a bit. "I… I would never do that to you."
"I know. It's alright."
"It isn't," he said, pulling back from their hug to face Osomatsu. "I know it was just a—But—You were trusting me to help you, and I, I threw you to the dogs. What kind of brother am I?"
Osomatsu exhaled a quiet laugh through his nose.
"Karamatsu, if I can't trust you to end me for being a horrible eldest brother, I don't know what you're here for."
The punch he received in response was expected, but the little smile his brother cracked made the pain more than worth it.
"I'm being serious!"
"I am, too!" Osomatsu crossed his arms, pretending to go into thought. "Hey, I'm not saying I won't put up a fight this time around, but if worse comes to worst…" Karamatsu gave up on hiding his smile as Osomatsu placed a solemn hand over his heart. "I give you special permission as part of the Top Two to end me before too much damage is done."
"Clearly, I'm too late."
They laughed together quietly, and returned to their embrace.
There was nothing else to discuss that night.
In the morning, however, when they would be found with limbs entangled on the living room floor, there would need to be some explanations in order on their part.