Archive of Our Own

Osomatsu and Choromatsu weren’t strangers to argument. It started when they were kids, when they’d squabble over the most ridiculous of things--who had more frosting on their piece of cake, who got to sit on the swing and who would be stuck with pushing the other, who got to compliment Totoko on her cute new dress first. As they grew older, their bickering continued, though their arguments felt different now--more accusing, coming from someplace deeper within them, both of them aware that the easy friendship they’d had as children was evolving into something more complicated, and that that complication was impossible to ignore no matter how hard they tried (or at least Osomatsu did, which only further exasperated Choromatsu and divided them further). They had fighting down to an art form by the time they’d reached adulthood, stuck together but distant all at once.

Sometimes, it felt like the only form of communication they had left. Osomatsu wasn’t sure when exactly that shift had happened, or if Choromatsu was also aware of it, but he knew one thing for sure--he didn’t like it, but he didn’t know how to stop it. Sometimes shouting angrily was a hell of a lot easier than processing whatever emotions were going through either of their heads and talking it out. There were just some thoughts Osomatsu wanted to keep to himself, thoughts that were easier to hide as long as he kept hurling whatever stupid insults he could think of and deflecting his true feelings.

Not that it wasn’t exhausting, or made him long for the close relationship they used to have. That felt so far in the past now, a distant memory. Maybe that was what growing up was all about...which sucked, but what could he do about it? Admitting that he hated how much they fought would just lead to a whole... discussion, one that Osomatsu wasn’t ready to get into. Not now. Not ever. Even if it meant all of his conversations with Choromatsu from now on ended with a heated, cutting remark and a door slammed in his face.  

Nowadays when they fought, one of two things was likely to happen--either they would scream at each other until one of them finally broke and stormed out, still fuming, or they’d both break at the same time and realize how stupid the argument had been in the first place, and begrudgingly apologize (whether they meant it or not) and decide to move on. Choromatsu, whose short temper was infamous in the Matsuno family, was usually the one to storm out in a rage, having yelled until his voice went hoarse. Osomatsu was the one more likely to apologize, even when he didn’t want to, especially when he knew he was the one at fault to begin with and just didn’t want to admit it (which was often the case). 

Today, neither of those things happened.

The argument started just like most of their other ones. Osomatsu had gotten bored, snooped around the house until he’d found Choromatsu’s money, and booked it to the horse races. An hour later he’d stumbled out, dejected, and dragged himself to the nearest bar for a cold beer, bought with Choromatsu’s last few crumpled bills. When he’d finally arrived back home he was greeted by Choromatsu, his empty wallet gripped tightly in his hand and a murderous look on his face, and when he caught a whiff of the alcohol that lingered on Osomatsu’s breath he lost it.

“Osomatsu, what the hell is your problem?” Choromatsu yelled, glaring at him with fire in his eyes. “How many times have I told you my money is off-limits to you? Do you know how long I’ve been saving this up for, only for you to swoop in and undo all of it? Just how many times do I have to tell you not to touch my money before you get it through your thick skull that I mean it?! Why can’t you take me seriously for once in your life?”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that big of a deal,” Osomatsu retorted, even though he knew it was. “I didn’t even take all your money. And if I won I was gonna split the winnings with you! I just...didn’t.”

“You always say that,” Choromatsu seethed through gritted teeth, his fist clenching so tightly around the wallet that it crumpled the material. Nyaa-Chan’s face, gracing the front of the green fabric wallet, contorted into something unrecognizable under his death grip. “I was saving up for weeks for a limited edition Nyaa-Chan figure! They’re only doing one run of them, and now I’m not going to be able to get one because you had to be a selfish asshole and steal from me!”

“Pfft, is it really that big of a deal?” Osomatsu asked, rolling his eyes. There he goes with the Nyaa-Chan obsession again. “You already have at least a dozen idol figures on your shelf. Does it really matter if you don’t get this one? Besides, you were just gonna throw that money away on an overpriced piece of plastic. At least I was using it wisely to try and get more money.”

“That’s not the point!!” Choromatsu stomped his foot, hurling the wallet to the ground with reckless abandon. He always treated every piece of his precious merchandise as if they were his children--this was a sure sign he was outraged. “What I spend my money on is my business! It doesn’t matter if I was buying a figure or not! What does matter is that you have absolutely no respect for me or my belongings, and I’m sick of it!”

“Choro, relax, I’ll make it up to you,” Osomatsu said, trying to cut in, even though he wasn’t sure how he was going to make that happen. “I’ll make sure you get that stupid figure somehow. I’ll get the money from Todomatsu or something. He’s always got some to spare, if I can get my hands on it..”

“Do you even hear yourself talk?!” Choromatsu demanded, eyes flashing. “Listen to you, talking so casually about stealing from your brothers! You have serious issues, Osomatsu. Your stealing, your gambling, your drinking...you have so many awful vices, I can’t even pinpoint which one is the worst. I don’t know why everyone lets you get away with all of it, why anyone else puts up with you. You are unbelievable!”

“Hey, lay off,” Osomatsu snapped back, somehow taken aback by the jabs. It wasn’t that he was particularly offended to be called out on his addictions...it wasn’t that he was oblivious to the fact that they were bad. It was the part about everyone putting up with him that stung. “The gambling is just a hobby, it’s not a big deal. I’m not addicted, I could quit anytime I want. And I don’t drink too much! I’m not even drunk now, I just had one beer.”

“Yeah, that you bought with my money,” Choromatsu muttered, and shook his head. “You know...I don’t even know why I bother getting mad at you anymore. It’s just a waste of energy when I know you’re going to do whatever the hell you want to do anyway and try to justify your actions, even when you’re fully aware that you are in the wrong. Go ahead, keep stealing my money, see if I care. But it is an addiction when you stoop to taking your brothers’ belongings to satisfy your selfish needs.”

“Look, I’m just having fun, alright?” Osomatsu replied, agitated. He was tired of having this conversation, and it was getting harder to defend himself. “So what if I like horse races? So what if I like the rush that comes with winning? And I do give you back your money eventually, once I win. It’s not like you don’t have your own weird hobbies, so it’s a little hypocritical to judge mine, dont’cha think?”

Osomatsu wasn’t stupid. He knew there was a huge difference between his “hobbies” and Choromatsu’s interests. But he wasn’t willing to confess that he knew he had problems, and he didn’t want to draw this argument out any longer. All he wanted to do was go upstairs, crawl under the futon, and nap until dinnertime, pretending this whole confrontation never happened. Just let Choromatsu get his fireworks show over with and move on.

It didn’t happen that way.

“Whatever,” Choromatsu grumbled, sounding both angry and defeated at once. “Do whatever you want. I don’t even care. Sometimes I wish…”

Choromatsu’s voice trailed off then. Osomatsu stared at him expectantly, but it was as if Choromatsu had turned to stone, arms crossed and eyes cast down at his feet. 

Don’t ask, just don’t ask. Just let it go so you can get this stupid argument over with…

“...you wish, what?” Osomatsu blurted out, before he could stop himself.

Dammit.

Choromatsu lifted his gaze to meet Osomatsu’s then, and a chill slithered down Osomatsu’s spine at the cold, bitter expression that had hardened in Choromatsu’s eyes. 

“I wish,” Choromatsu began, in a steely tone that made Osomatsu regret asking, “that I’d never moved back home.”

It was as if Choromatsu had punched Osomatsu in the gut, only worse. Osomatsu reeled back, clutching his stomach as if he had been hit anyway. He blinked, staring at Choromatsu, hoping to see even a hint of remorse at letting those words fall from his mouth.

But he didn’t. Choromatsu just stood there, arms still cross, rigid and unwavering. The icy glint in his narrowed eyes spoke volumes and confirmed Osomatsu’s biggest fear: he meant what he said.

Ever since that horrible day--the day the whole family had been celebrating Choromatsu getting a job and moving out, the day Osomatsu’s pent-up emotions over the thought of losing his brother and best friend led him to lash out and push the rest of his brothers to move out too--Osomatsu had felt a sense of unease gnawing away at him. Even after his brothers returned home, that feeling stayed with him, growing in intensity and threatening to consume him completely. It was fear, the fear that his brothers all secretly resented him, that they thought they’d be better off without him holding them back and making them stay with him, NEETs for life. It wasn’t something he’d tried to do on purpose, but ever since that awful day he was uncomfortably aware that his brothers knew his true feelings, ones he preferred not to discuss.

He wanted them with him, and they had stayed. He had hoped, maybe stupidly, that they were as happy with the situation as he had been, all of them together again.

But Choromatsu…

Osomatsu was always secretly afraid that Choromatsu was angry with him for dragging him back home. Choromatsu was ambitious, and he strived for independence...unlike Osomatsu. Choromatsu wanted to break away from the status quo, not maintain it...unlike Osomatsu. Everyone always mocked him for being all talk and no action, but Osomatsu was certain that if given the chance, Choromatsu really could excel and become that perfect, proper member of society he’d always longed to be, with a well-paying job and a family of his own. If only Osomatsu hadn’t taken that chance away from him.

Being burdened with the fear that his childhood best friend and partner-in-crime now hated him for taking such an opportunity from him had been bad enough...but hearing Choromatsu say it shattered any hope that Osomatsu clung onto that everything was okay between them. It wasn’t. It really wasn’t, and he’d been a fool to be in denial for this long.

By all rights, this should have made him sad. If he’d been feeling any weaker, Osomatsu might have cried about it... after throwing one last retort at Choromatsu and running away to the privacy of their bedroom, of course. God forbid he let any of his brothers see him cry. 

And yet, he didn’t feel sad. For some reason, that bad feeling inside hardened into something much sharper and more intense. He was mad.

“Oh, really?” Osomatsu tried to keep his voice even, but it shook with a tremor of anger he couldn’t conceal. “So you regret moving back home then? Because of me? That’s what you’re saying right now?”

“I think you heard me clearly enough the first time,” Choromatsu responded, and the fact that his own voice was so level actually pissed Osomatsu off more than if he’d been screaming. “You are selfish, Osomatsu. And childish. The second one of us takes any initiative toward growing as people, toward actually becoming adults, you drag us right back down to your level because you’re too afraid of change and letting things go. Of letting us go. We’re your brothers and you should be happy for us, no matter what we do. But no, you can’t accept it maturely. Instead you either give us the silent treatment or lash out at us, because you can’t handle it. Do you know that Jyushimatsu still flinches sometimes when you raise your voice, Osomatsu? Do you know what you did to him that night, and how it affects him now?”

Osomatsu’s stomach turned cold at the memory...because of course he knew. Even though Jyushimatsu had popped right back up and acted like everything was fine, Osomatsu had seen the fear in his eyes after he’d kicked him. He could see the hurt and betrayal flicker across Jyushimatsu’s expression, even as his smile stayed plastered in place. And even though he’d been angry, even though he’d felt hurt and betrayed himself because his best friend was leaving him the very next day to start a life of his own...he knew, deep down inside himself, that he’d made the wrong move in reacting violently. And when everyone else left him, one by one, in the following days, his suspicions had been confirmed. It had been a mistake, and he’d paid the price for it.

“...this has nothing to do with him,” Osomatsu finally said, glaring at Choromatsu.

“Of course it doesn’t, because it has to do with you and only you, right?” Choromatsu’s voice rose accusingly now. “That’s what it always boils down to! How you feel, how our choices affect you, not anyone else. How do you think that makes the rest of us feel, Osomatsu? You call yourself the ‘oldest brother’ to no end, but do you actually try to fulfill that role? Because if you did, you would try harder to support us and our goals. You would’ve tried harder to support me, instead of make me feel guilty for leaving and starting my own life!”

“You’re making shit up now! I never said anything to you!” Osomatsu snapped. “I never told you not to get that stupid job, I never told you to stay at home. I never said any of that!”

“It’s what you didn’t say that spoke volumes!” Choromatsu barked. “Your silence said everything for you! You didn’t approve of my life choices, you didn’t want to see me go and you were too stubborn to tell me anything...to tell me you were happy for me, or proud of me, the way a good brother should. Instead you snubbed me, because in your head all you could think about was how I was deserting you, and you couldn’t handle that. So you lashed out and took it out on Jyushimatsu when you couldn’t take it anymore...and even after that, you didn’t apologize. You didn’t say the things you should have or try to take back the things that you shouldn’t have. You just stayed silent, like we were supposed to make you feel better. And you know what that makes you? Selfish!”

“I heard you the first time!” Osomatsu shouted, his hands curling into fists, nails digging into the soft flesh of his palms. “But is it really fair to pin all the blame on me? What about you? You’re the one who suddenly sprang it on us that you’d gotten a job and were moving away, out of the blue! You didn’t give us any time to process it! One minute you’re there, the next--gone! And isn’t that a little selfish of you, Choromatsu?”

“There is a huge difference, Oso. First of all, it wasn’t out of the blue--Dad told me one of his friends had a job opening they were willing to offer to me, and I told you all that I had an interview for it. You saw me in the days leading up to that interview, how nervous I was. But you must not have had faith in me getting the job, if you weren’t thinking about the possibility that I might be leaving soon. But then I did get it, I got the job and I was thrilled, because it finally meant I was one step closer to reaching my goals in life. And you know what else? No one else acted shocked. None of our brothers seemed to feel betrayed that I was successful for once. Instead, they congratulated me, like good brothers should. The only one who didn’t want to celebrate my success was you.”

Osomatsu said nothing, his chest rising and falling with shaky, seething breaths. His fists were balled up so tightly that his knuckles had turned white and started to ache. 

Shut up, shut up, shut UP.

But Choromatsu didn’t. Instead he barrelled on, his words tumbling out in a furious torrent like beer overflowing from a shaken can. “And now look where I am! I’m right back where I started! And why? Because you dragged me home, you forced me into playing this ridiculous ballgame. Do you know why I agreed to it, Osomatsu? Because I felt sorry for you. I knew you were upset that I moved away, and that made me feel guilty. Do you even know what I was going through at the time? Because believe it or not, I was going through a hard time too. It was a massive change for me, and I really could’ve used your support, only you were too wrapped up in yourself to realize that. But I gave everything up--I quit my job, I moved back home, everything-- because you made me feel so guilty that I tricked myself into thinking I was the one at fault, and that it was what I needed to do. And I was wrong.”

Osomatsu’s cheeks burned, partly from knowing that a good chunk of what Choromatsu had said was true, but also partly from his own anger boiling away just below the surface. He’s going way too far. Sure, Osomatsu had been a shitty brother then, and he was willing to own up to it...except that he hadn’t. But it wasn’t like he’d forced Choromatsu to quit his job, or forced anyone else to move back home against their will...had he?

Did I?

He didn’t want to think about it.

“Shut up,” he cautioned now, through gritted teeth.

But Choromatsu was too agitated to listen, his face red as he stormed ahead. “Who knows what I’ve missed out on, because of you? I could’ve gotten a big promotion and moved up the ranks. I could’ve met someone. Who knows, I could’ve gotten married and started a family by now! But no, I’m stuck here, and who knows when an opportunity that good will ever come up again? I blew it, I wasted this amazing opportunity, all because you are a selfish, self-absorbed, lazy NEET who would rather die than admit he’s way too dependant on his brothers to function without--”

Osomatsu’s entire body burned. A loud ringing in his ears drowned out whatever else Choromatsu was saying, and his vision went hazy at the edges. His anger was swelling into something big, too big for him to contain, his heart hammering away in his chest like it was trying to escape by tearing through his ribcage.

And then...something snapped.

“I said,” Osomatsu snarled, closing the gap between himself and Choromatsu in two short strides, “shut UP!!”

It happened before he could stop himself. One second he was glaring fiercely into Choromatsu’s eyes--and the next, his fist connected squarely with the side of Choromatsu’s face.

The impact caught Choromatsu completely off guard, knocking him off-balance. He stumbled backwards, tripping over the low table behind him and crashing to the floor. He lay there for a second, blinking hard, the expression on his face unreadable.

Osomatsu didn’t even notice as he leaned over Choromatsu, his chest heaving, and unleashed his own torrent of fury.

“Do you even listen to yourself sometimes? Do you ever stop to think about how I feel? Do you know how much it fucking hurts to be accussed of being a shitty older brother, day in and day out?! Look, I get it! I’ll say it for you this time! I’m a shitty brother!  I steal from you, I smoke and drink and gamble, and I hated the thought of you and everyone else leaving me! But I kept it to myself so you could go and do your thing and be happy, and I never meant to lose my shit and hurt Jyushimatsu and turn everyone away from me! But I did, and look where it got me. So there, I’m the worst brother ever! Are you satisfied now, huh? Huh?!”

Choromatsu still said nothing. Instead, he slowly pushed himself back into a sitting position, his arms visibly trembling as he braced himself against the floor. He stared up at Osomatsu, bringing a hand up to the side of his face, but it wasn’t enough to cover the bright red mark that had blossomed across his cheek. And now, as his anger simmered down into something more manageable, Osomatsu could read the expression on his brother’s face. 

Shock, and...hurt? Fear?

Fuck.

Only then did it hit Osomatsu what he’d just done. He’d punched Choromatsu. He’d hurt him on purpose, without thinking twice about it, just like he’d done to Jyushimatsu on that horrible night. Instead of trying to get his point across with words, he’d let his emotions build up and up and up until they burst out of him uncontrollably, and then he’d had his say. 

Fuck...fuck fuck FUCK.

Osomatsu’s thoughts spiraled, crowding his head in an incomprehensible blur, his heart racing all over again. His fist ached, throbbing in time with his pulse--he could only imagine what Choromatsu’s face felt like then. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. It was like anything he wanted to say, everything he should have said, had gotten stuck in his throat.   

Before Osomatsu could think of something, anything to break the horribly painful tension between them, Karamatsu appeared in the doorway, his thick eyebrows furrowed.

“Brothers, did something happen in here? I heard a loud crash and…” Karamatsu’s voice trailed off as he assessed the scene, from Choromatsu on the floor with a hand cupping his quickly swelling cheek to Osomatsu standing over him with his hands still balled into fists. His eyes widened as he mentally connected the dots.

“Choromatsu! Are you alright?!” Karamatsu chose to address Choromatsu first, immediately kneeling at his younger brother’s side.

Osomatsu watched in a daze as Karamatsu helped Choromatsu slowly stand back up again, noting absently that Choromatsu swayed a little once he was on his feet, still seeming shaky. He didn’t pull his hand away from his cheek, and he didn’t meet Osomatsu’s gaze either, focusing entirely on Karamatsu as he spoke to him.

“I’m okay, it’s just a little swollen...” Osomatsu heard Choromatsu say, but his voice sounded muffled and a little strained. 

“That doesn’t look okay,” Karamatsu insisted. “That looks awfully sore, you should put some ice on it…”

“Maybe…”

“What even happened here?” Karamatsu finally asked, and he stopped fussing over Choromatsu long enough to turn a hard, cold glare on Osomatsu, who shrank back slightly. “I thought I heard shouting a minute ago. Were you two fighting? Did you... punch Choromatsu, Osomatsu?”

Osomatsu exhaled a long breath, finally unfurling his tightly-clenched fists and shaking out his achy fingers. “It’s complicated, Karamatsu.”

“How is it complicated?” Karamatsu crossed his arms and fixed his gaze on Osomatsu, the look in his eyes deep and intense. Osomatsu fidgeted, wanting desperately to look away, but knowing there was no way out of it. “Did you punch our brother or not?”

Osomatsu’s fingers twitched. There wasn’t any escaping this. “Yes. I did. But…” His voice trailed off, knowing he didn’t have a good defense.

Karamatsu took a step closer to Osomatsu, and Osomatsu reflexively winced. He’d learned the hard way that Karamatsu was not one to hold back when he was angry enough.

“What the hell is your problem, Osomatsu?” Karamatsu snapped, getting right up in Osomatsu’s face. “Do you ever learn? Do you not remember what happened after you attacked Jyushimatsu? You need to get your emotions in check. You can’t just keep exploding in these fits of rage and taking it out on our brothers, and then expect us to understand and forgive you for it every time!”

Osomatsu gritted his teeth. “That was not an attack. That was...an accident. And I already apologized for that!”

“You didn’t though. I never heard you tell Jyushi that you were sorry.” 

“Well...that was a long time ago!” Osomatsu threw his hands up in aggravation. “And anyway, I already said, it’s complicated. You aren’t involved in this fight, Kara. You don’t even know what we were talking about.”

“Oh yeah? So what were you fighting about then?” Karamatsu pressed, scowling. “What can you say that will justify you harming one of your own younger brothers instead of talking it out like a reasonable adult would?”

Osomatsu opened his mouth, then closed it, frowning deeply. Karamatsu had him cornered, and Osomatsu hated it...even though he had brought it on himself.

“Kara, just...let it go, alright?”

Karamatsu and Osomatsu both whipped their heads around to face Choromatsu, who had been standing off to the side while the eldest two brothers had their stand-off.

“It’s not worth it,” Choromatsu went on, sounding drained. There was a slight waver to his voice, and for just a second Osomatsu swore he saw the telltale shine of tears in his younger brother’s eyes, but he blinked them away too fast for him to see for sure. It didn’t help that he pointedly avoided making eye contact with Osomatsu as he spoke. “Osomatsu will never change. He’ll never learn. He’s proven time and again that he just doesn’t care enough. It’s not worth arguing with him about it anymore, and I don’t know why I bothered.” 

Then, without another word or another look back, Choromatsu brushed past the two older brothers and walked out of the room. Osomatsu thought he heard a sniffle, but once again, he couldn’t be sure. 

The room fell silent in Choromatsu’s absence--eerily, painfully silent. It was uncharacteristic of Choromatsu to become so... quiet. To give up the battle with such an air of defeat, rather than storm out after getting the last word in while he was still furious. It wasn’t the same as all of the other arguments he’d abruptly walked out on. And somehow, it chilled Osomatsu more deeply to have been left in silence than if Choromatsu had continued screaming at him.

“I hope you’re happy.” Karamatsu’s tone was also unnervingly calm when he spoke next, but there was no denying the underlying anger in his voice as he fired one last disapproving glare in Osomatsu’s direction. 

“I--” Osomatsu began, though he had no idea what he could possibly say next to make things right.

It didn’t matter anyway. Karamatsu just shook his head, then left the room too--probably off to find Choromatsu and tend to his injury.

Osomatsu stood in the center of the room, completely alone. The silence that surrounded him was far from peaceful--it was suffocating, pressing down so heavily on him he felt like he couldn’t breath. His heart pounded wildly, his hands shaking and knuckles still throbbing from the punch, though he wasn’t sure anymore if the pain was real or in his head. He felt like he was going to break down completely if he stayed here any longer.

Without thinking Osomatsu rushed to the front door, fumbling to yank on his shoes and fling open the door. He slammed it hard behind him as he bolted out of the house, not caring if it bothered anyone. What did it matter anyway? Everyone was already mad at him. 

A walk. That was what he needed. Something to clear his head and get him moving...and more importantly, get him out of the house and away from everyone else for awhile.

Once he was outside in the sunshine and fresh air, he slowed his pace a little, fighting with the urge to run away from his emotions. That wouldn’t work. It never did. So as he trudged down the sidewalks of Akatsuka Ward, past the coffee shop and the convenience store that were so familiar to him, he allowed himself to process his thoughts rather than shove them to the back of his mind.

On one hand, Osomatsu thought that Choromatsu had been completely out-of-line at certain points. After all, Osomatsu couldn’t shoulder all of the blame for Choromatsu’s failures. Choromatsu claimed to be the responsible one, the “go-getter” among the brothers, but Osomatsu knew he was faking it more often than not. So it was ridiculous of Choromatsu to accuse Osomatsu of completely ruining his life, right? Right!

But on the other hand…

Osomatsu had to admit to himself that, even though Choromatsu had gone overboard...there was a grain of truth to everything he’d said in the heat of the moment. No, more than a grain of truth. Because Osomatsu had been a stubborn asshole when Choromatsu had moved out for the first time. He’d known, not so deep down, how much his support and approval would have meant to Choromatsu...but Osomatsu just couldn’t find it in himself to give it to him, not when he was so fixated on how Choromatsu was ruining his life, by leaving and starting his own life and abolishing the status quo. By abandoning him. It was stupid and selfish of him, and he hated himself for it, so he buried those feelings as deep down as he possibly could. He’d thought that by not expressing his negative emotions, that would compensate for his lack of enthusiasm even as everyone else crowded around Choromatsu and showered him with congratulations and praise. He’d thought that by hiding his own hurt, he could spare Choromatsu’s feelings...but in the end he’d done just the opposite, and made it everyone’s problem. 

Osomatsu thought he’d gotten better at repressing his emotions since then. He thought he’d finally perfected his “poker” face, grinning and rubbing a finger under his nose whenever anyone said anything that upset him, pretending it didn’t cut through to his heart like a knife. But no...sometimes those bad feelings boiled a little too close to the surface until they spurted out in an uncontrollable burst. Most of the time he could just duck into an empty room and vent his emotions by punching a pillow until the seams burst. No one else had to witness his temper tantrums and know he was sad or angry...and consequently, talk to him about them. 

This time, he’d really blown it. And what was worse, that image of Choromatsu--sprawled on the floor, holding his swollen cheek, an expression of shock that bordered on fear on his face--would be seared permanently into his memory. Osomatsu had done that himself, purposely wanting to shut his brother up and hurt him. They’d all gotten into brawls before, beating each other up mercilessly, but this felt different. This felt more personal. Just like it had when he’d lost it and hurt Jyushimatsu that night.

And why Jyushimatsu had looked up at him with that same look of stunned betrayal and fear that Choromatsu had, why Jyushimatsu still flinched when Osomatsu got a little too loud and a little too close…

All at once Osomatsu stopped walking, coming to a halt right in the middle of the sidewalk. People walking by might have given him a funny look for standing still there, a blank expression on his face as he stared at the ground, but he was too wrapped up in personal realization to notice or care.

It was true...Osomatsu really didn’t change, ever. He actively fought change instead. He didn’t always like who he was, but instead of trying to change himself for the better, he just tried to hide what he didn’t like about himself by burying it down deep and overcompensating with obnoxiousness. He clung to his brothers, so attached to his identity as a sextuplet and a “big brother” that he didn’t know who he was without them, and felt a crushing sense of loneliness at the thought of not having them around anymore. He hated constantly being called shitty and lazy and stupid, words his brothers threw around so casually that they probably didn’t even notice the way they made him cringe, and yet he hadn’t done anything to prove them wrong...on the contrary, he was well aware that stealing their money to fund his own gambling and drinking habits, habits that he’d formed to just feel something, definitely qualified as shitty. And yet he didn’t know how to stop. Did he even want to?

It was a wonder his brothers even tolerated him at all at this point. They were probably sick of him, but only stuck around because they didn’t have anything else. Or they just felt sorry for him. And once they moved on to something better, he’d be all alone again, just like he always was in his worst nightmares.

Everything Choromatsu had said was true. Osomatsu was stubborn and selfish, slowly but surely driving everyone away from him because he was too afraid of change. He’d brought it all on himself.

“Excuse me, sir? Are you alright?”

Osomatsu snapped out of his haze enough to look up at the woman who had just spoken to him, a concerned expression on her face.

“Oh...yeah, I’m fine.” Osomatsu managed to smile weakly at her, lying to her and to himself, as always. Because he would never change.

“Are you sure?” the woman asked. “You look a little lost.”

You don’t know the half of it.

“Yep, I’m fine!” This time Osomatsu forced a chipper tone, just so the woman would leave him be. “Must’ve zoned out for a minute there, but I’m good.”

The woman hesitated, then nodded before walking off, headed who-knew-where...probably off to work, or home to her family. The thought only made Osomatsu think of Choromatsu again, and what he’d lost, thanks to him. 

Maybe Osomatsu really was to blame for everything wrong in his brothers’ lives after all…

Osomatsu shuddered, his throat closing up as tears pooled in his eyes, threatening to fall. No, he wasn’t going to cry-- not in public, not anywhere. He furiously scrubbed the tears away with the sleeve of his hoodie, rubbing until his eyes were raw. Then, knowing he couldn’t bring himself to go home but having few other options, he did the only thing he could think of doing.

His head too full and his heart too heavy, he dragged himself to the nearest bar.

----------

When Osomatsu finally staggered back through the front door of the Matsunos’, it was almost ten o’ clock at night. He reeked of alcohol and was so drunk it was a miracle that he’d even remembered where he lived--the only reason he’d gone home at all that night was because the bartender had kicked him out, and he had nowhere else to go.

The second Osomatsu stumbled into the living room Choromatsu was on top of him, lighting into him with a ten-minute lecture that droned on and on, his voice scaling angrily upwards the longer he ranted. Osomatsu watched his mouth move, the sound of his screaming ringing in his ears, but he couldn’t make out anything that he said--probably the usual, how irresponsible Osomatsu was and how worried everyone had been about him, blah blah blah. Osomatsu was mercifully numb to everything right now. He barely even registered the ugly purplish-blue bruise that marred Choromatsu’s cheek, knowing full-well that he was the one who had caused it.

After all, what did any of it matter to him? It was just like Choromatsu had said.

Osomatsu didn’t care.

He didn’t care about anything.