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At the very end of Shibuya’s Cat Street, the old house was already filled with noise. It was Friday movie night, and the five brothers had unanimously chosen a Conjuring marathon.
“I can totally handle it,” Aizetsu declared from the floor, hugging a pillow to his chest even as his voice wavered.
Karaku laughed and tossed a handful of popcorn at him. On the couch, Sekido folded his arms, scowling, while Zohakuten sat beside him like a silent, terrifying sentinel. Bowls of snacks and bottles of soda crowded the table. It was going to be a long night.
For the first half of the film the room stayed mostly calm. The brothers munched on popcorn and traded occasional comments. Aizetsu kept his eyes fixed on the screen. He told himself he was fine. Big boys could watch scary movies. He was fine. Yet the longer the tension built on screen, the smaller he felt. His thumb drifted toward his mouth before he caught himself and shoved it back down. He was not going to regress tonight. Not in front of everyone.
Karaku, ever the jokester, noticed how stiff Aizetsu had become. He crept closer on the floor behind his brother. When a loud bang sounded from the television, Karaku suddenly grabbed Aizetsu’s shoulders and let out a sharp hiss right next to his ear.
Aizetsu shrieked. His body jolted hard. Warmth spread across his lap as he lost control completely. The sob that tore out of him was loud and immediate. Tears poured down his cheeks while he curled into a tight ball on the floor.
“I am sorry,” he cried. “I did not mean to. Please do not be mad. I am sorry.”
Urogi, who had been lounging nearby, took one look at his twin’s distress and felt the shift hit him too. His own face crumpled. Within seconds he dropped into little space and scrambled over to Aizetsu. He wrapped his arms around his brother and hissed at the others.
“No,” Urogi whined. “Mine. Go away. I fix it.”
He rocked Aizetsu gently and patted his wet pants, trying to soothe him even though his own eyes were wet with tears. Every time Sekido or Zohakuten moved closer, Urogi tucked Aizetsu tighter against him and glared.
Sekido let out a heavy sigh. “Urogi. Let go. We need to clean him up.”
Urogi shook his head stubbornly. “No. I take care of him.”
“Urogi,” Sekido said, voice firm but not yelling. “Move. Now. Aizetsu needs dry clothes. You are not helping him by keeping us away.”
Urogi’s lip trembled. After a few more seconds of hesitation he finally loosened his grip, though he stayed right beside his twin and held his hand.
Zohakuten scooped Aizetsu up without hesitation. “Come on, little one. Let us get you cleaned up.” He carried the still-sobbing boy to the bathroom while murmuring soft reassurances. Urogi followed close behind, refusing to let go of Aizetsu’s hand for even one second.
In the bathroom Zohakuten worked quickly and gently. He got Aizetsu out of the wet clothes, wiped him down with a warm cloth, and slipped a clean pull-up onto him before dressing him in soft pajama pants. All the while he spoke in a low, calm voice. “You are okay. Accidents happen. No one is angry with you.” Aizetsu clung to him and cried quietly into his shoulder. Urogi hovered right beside them, still holding his twin’s hand and occasionally patting Aizetsu’s back.
When they returned to the living room, Karaku was standing awkwardly near the couch. His usual playful energy was gone. Zohakuten settled back down with Aizetsu on his lap and gave Karaku a stern look.
“You are grounded for the rest of the night,” Zohakuten said. “Go to your room after you apologize.”
Karaku stepped closer. He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “Aizetsu… I am really sorry. I was just trying to be funny. I did not mean to scare you that bad. It was a dumb prank.”
Aizetsu turned his face away and hid it in Zohakuten’s shoulder. He did not speak. He did not nod. He simply pressed closer to his caregiver and ignored every attempt Karaku made to get his attention.
Karaku tried once more. “I really am sorry…”
Still nothing. Aizetsu kept his face hidden.
Zohakuten rubbed slow circles on Aizetsu’s back. “That is enough. He needs time. Go to your room, Karaku.”
Karaku’s shoulders dropped. He gave one last regretful glance at the twins before he turned and headed down the hallway to his room.
The living room felt quieter now. Sekido restarted the movie at a much lower volume and turned down the brightness on the screen. Zohakuten kept Aizetsu securely on his lap, one strong arm wrapped around the smaller boy. Urogi stayed glued to his twin’s side, holding his hand and leaning against Zohakuten’s other arm. Sekido sat on the opposite side, occasionally reaching over to gently ruffle Urogi’s hair when the younger boy got restless.
Aizetsu’s sobs slowly faded into soft sniffles. He stayed tucked against Zohakuten’s shoulder, safe and warm. Every so often Zohakuten would murmur praise or offer him a sip of juice. Urogi eventually relaxed enough to lean his head on Aizetsu’s shoulder too, the two littles finding comfort in each other while their caregivers kept watch.
The Conjuring played on, softer and gentler than before. Outside the windows the night grew darker, but inside the house the four of them stayed cuddled together on the couch. Movie night continued, warm and protected, with two little ones safely held between their older brothers.