Chapter Text
In the summer of the sextuplets’ final year of elementary school, the Matsuno family took a day trip to the beach. It was no easy or inexpensive feat to cart the six unruly boys around anywhere, so it was a rare treat and one that they were all looking forward to. Naturally, Karamatsu was no exception. In fact, he was probably the most excited out of all of his brothers to see the ocean. He’d recently watched a documentary about sharks, and he just couldn’t get over how cool they looked when breaching—soaring up out of the blue waves with their massive bodies arcing and twisting in the air, their bottomless maws agape and gnashing. Even though everyone told him it wouldn’t happen, Karamatsu had been beside himself with excitement over the possibility that they might see a shark at the beach.
When the day finally came, though, his anticipation slowly began to turn into apprehension. If a shark really did show up… Sure, it wasn’t likely, but if it did…
That was the sort of uneasiness that was filling Karamatsu’s chest now as he sat on the edge of his bed and waited. Just as soon as a family member came to collect him, he was free to return home.
He felt like a fish dangled over the open sea, just waiting for the shark’s jaws to snap shut around him. He felt like himself, three long months ago, standing at the top of the stairs with the taste of freedom lingering a hairsbreadth from his lips.
Would he fall again?
“Hey, Karamatsu, whatcha doin’ sitting there with that look on your face like the world’s about to end?”
Karamatsu raised his eyes from his lap and found himself meeting Osomatsu’s gaze. His brother stood holding the curtain aside, a bag hanging from his wrist and a smirk on his face despite the uncomfortable-looking sling that strapped his arm to his body to keep his shoulder immobile.
Karamatsu blinked. “What, coming to see me off? Didn’t we already do farewells in your room this morning?”
“Nah, not seeing you off,” Osomatsu said as he stepped forward and let the curtain fall behind him. “I’m here to take ya home!” Anticipating Karamatsu’s inevitable confusion, he continued, “See, Mom’s calling a taxi for you since your foot’s messed up, but me? My feet are both A-OK, and I am not into walking all the way home from the hospital in summer. So, I convinced the doctor to sign off on my discharge a day early so I could hitch a ride with you! Here.” He dropped the bag onto Karamatsu’s lap. “Mom brought a change of clothes for you.”
“You know there’s no way she would make you walk home after being treated for a gunshot wound,” Karamatsu reasoned, reaching into the bag. “I’m sure she’d call a taxi for you tomorrow too.”
Osomatsu hummed thoughtfully and placed his hand on his hip. “Well, it doesn’t really matter anymore anyway, since I already got discharged. What, you don’t wanna ride home with your big bro?”
“What would you do if I said I don’t?” Karamatsu teased.
Osomatsu recoiled in shock. “Cry, probably!”
Karamatsu laughed and withdrew the clothing from the bag. He caught sight of the black leather and the skull motif patch, and his expression lit up. “My perfect fashion!” he exclaimed, taking the shoulders in either hand and holding the jacket up to admire.
Osomatsu approached the bed and dropped himself onto the mattress beside his brother, grinning. “Good choice?”
“Absolutely!” Karamatsu didn’t waste a moment shedding the thin fabric of the clothes provided by the hospital and replacing it with the bag’s contents. The familiar gray sleeveless shirt, the familiar leather jacket, the familiar blue jeans, the familiar belt with the skull-shaped buckle… Three months didn’t seem nearly long enough for something to become nostalgic, but that was the feeling that enveloped Karamatsu’s core.
Nostalgia, and the faintest twinge of fear.
“Looks good!” Osomatsu remarked. He brushed his finger along his nose. “I mean, about as good as can be expected from that outfit. But yeah!” He jumped up from the bed and held his hand out in offer to help Karamatsu stand. “The taxi’s probably waiting already, so let’s hit up whoever it is you gotta tell that you’re leaving and get the hell out of here!”
Karamatsu frowned and stood without his brother’s assistance. “I don’t think you should be doing any pulling with that injury of yours, Nii-san,” he warned.
“It’s my good arm, though!”
“It’s all connected, though.”
Osomatsu clicked his tongue and pouted. “Sheesh, you’re as bad as Choromatsu…”
They checked over the area once more to make sure there was nothing forgotten, and then Karamatsu gathered his crutches and they started through the hospital to the general ward’s main desk. Karamatsu had left his room plenty of times during the past week—he had even left the building itself a few times for some fresh air and a taste of sunshine on days when the weather was nice—so just what was causing his heart to race? What was it that curled his fingers around the hem of his jacket, that begged his feet to stop?
He felt Osomatsu’s eyes on him and took a breath.
“Perhaps I shall take the liberty of preparing dinner tonight,” he said, inflecting as much of his bravado as he could muster. “It’s been quite some time. What say you, brother? Any requests?”
“Nah, you don’t gotta worry about that,” Osomatsu replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It’s your first day back home! You should just relax and enjoy it.”
Karamatsu’s forced enthusiasm flagged. “Ah… Of course.”
“Totty’s been taking care of a lot of the cooking lately,” Osomatsu continued. His voice was cool and smooth, his words flowing like a shallow stream through a well-worn riverbed as they navigated the hospital’s long hallways. “He’s gotten pretty good at it—maybe even around your level, except that he’s a lot less ambitious with his recipes. His miso soup tastes like shit, though. You gotta help him with that sometime. Well, honestly, he’s probably going to foist off as much of the work onto you as he can. He doesn’t make it much of a secret how much he really hates cooking for so many people. You just know he’s bragging about it to no end on LINE, though…” He raised his pitch mockingly, “ ‘I do the cooking for my whooole family! Oh, it’s nothing that impressive, but I do have five brothers, so it sure can be a lot of work, teehee!’ ‘Teehee’ this, you conniving son of a— Oh hey, there’s the desk.”
There was the desk, indeed. Feeling just a bit more at ease after listening to his brother’s rambling, Karamatsu approached the counter and spoke to the secretary. It only took a moment to confirm and finalize the discharge, and then suddenly, all at once, he was adrift in that open sea. He inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, and returned to his brother’s side.
“All set?” Osomatsu said, his hand tucked into the pocket of his sweatshirt.
Karamatsu held his wrist loosely in the opposite hand and nodded his head. It was mortifying; from the very beginning, he’d wanted nothing more than to return home, and now that the opportunity was finally before him, he couldn’t break free of that suffocating feeling of unease.
“Karamatsu?”
He raised his eyes and caught the faint look of concern on Osomatsu’s face, and he immediately gave one of his practiced smirks and gestured broadly with his arm. “Let us make haste, brother! Onward, to the comfort of our sweet abode!”
“Mm, sure, but before that,” Osomatsu fiddled with something in his pocket, “close your eyes for a second.”
Karamatsu lifted an eyebrow. “What? Why?”
“Aw, come on! Just do it!”
With a resigned sigh, the second son acquiesced and closed his eyes. He felt Osomatsu step closer, felt him reach towards his face, and then felt something prod the corner of his eye. He jumped back with a yelp, reflexively pressing the heel of his hand against the stinging spot, and regarded his brother with startled confusion.
“Oh my god, did I just poke you in the eye? Sorry!” If the apology was meant to be sincere, Osomatsu’s fit of giggles and the total absence of remorse in his poorly subdued grin effectively destroyed the sentiment. His shoulders still trembled with the effort to reign in his laughter as the eldest son held up the pair of sunglasses that he and the other four had given to Karamatsu as a collective present. “Anyway,” he said, “it’s sunny today, so I thought you might want ‘em. You, uh… can put them on yourself, I guess.”
Karamatsu rubbed his eye for a moment longer before lowering his hand to gingerly accept the sunglasses that were offered to him.
“They’re an important piece of your ‘perfect fashion,’ right?”
More than that, they were an important gift from his cherished family. Karamatsu looked at his blurry reflection in the shadowed lenses for a moment, then he slipped the glasses on over his eyes and summoned his most melodramatic pose. “Heh! It’s as you say, brother! Truly, this outfit cannot be appreciated in its full splendor in the sad absence of these sunglasses! Why, they are the plat du jour of this feast for the eyes!” He lowered the sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose and gave one of his sultry gazes. “Would you not agree?”
“I don’t really know what you just said, but sure!” Osomatsu said, his wide grin making his tone light and jovial. “Anyway, we oughta get goin’ before the cab gives up on us and leaves.”
Heartened by his successful performance, Karamatsu followed as Osomatsu started towards the hospital’s entryway and exited into the balmy summer air. Cicadas wailed from the tops of the trees that stood around the area, and the sound of passing traffic reached from the main road. Somebody approached from further down the sidewalk, and Karamatsu watched as they passed him and entered the hospital.
How could the very same world that he’d existed in for more than twenty years suddenly feel so sprawling and strange?
Osomatsu was already heading towards the taxi waiting on the curb, and Karamatsu pushed down his feelings of defenselessness and moved to keep up. There was no reason to be anxious now, and there was even less reason to concern his brother with his baseless anxiety.
“Want me to hold those for you?” Osomatsu offered with a gesture to the crutches after opening the taxi’s door.
Act like normal. Act like usual. Act like there’s nothing to worry about—because there is nothing to worry about.
“Fear not, brother! Grateful though I am for your thoughtfulness, I am more than readily equipped to handle this trifle myself!” He took a step back, raised one of the crutches, and made as if to spin it. It slipped away from his hand the moment his grip slackened, and Karamatsu winced as it clattered noisily against the pavement.
Osomatsu opened his mouth, but Karamatsu cut him off by clearing his throat. “Well!” he said. “I see I’ve a bit more practice ahead of me before I’m ready to impress my Karamatsu Girls!” He sheepishly gathered up the fallen crutch and climbed into the cab’s back seat.
(Impressing his Karamatsu Girls… What a joke that was. If he never met another ‘Karamatsu Girl’ in his life, it would be too soon.)
Graciously, Osomatsu let the embarrassing fumble and poor save go without comment and slid into the taxi beside the second son, confirming their destination with the driver as he pulled the door shut behind him. The car pulled away from the curb, and the hospital and the scenery surrounding it began their slow but steady recession into the distance behind them.
That unjustifiable feeling of dread crept into Karamatsu’s chest once more, and he clasped his hands in his lap and tried to think of some way to smother it. How did he usually ease his feelings of restlessness? He would go for a walk, or sit on the roof and strum his guitar, or have a cigarette, or…
“You’re making that face again,” Osomatsu said as he leaned forward to catch Karamatsu’s gaze. The smirk on his lips didn’t disguise the concern in his eyes.
“Whatever do you mean, brother? Karamatsu asked, slipping coolly back into his persona. Act like normal. Act like usual. He gestured to himself, “This is but the face I was born with—the face I share with all of you!”
The eldest son continued to stare, and Karamatsu held his breath.
“You know,” Osomatsu started, his tone casual, “the others said that getting you to talk about the stuff you’re worried about is like pulling teeth. Choromatsu said it’s because you think it’s lame to rely on your little brothers. But you haven’t forgotten that you have a big brother you can confide in at any time, right?”
Karamatsu swallowed and opened his mouth, then he closed it again. Like normal. Like usual. He laughed unconvincingly. “There’s hardly anything to confide, brother…”
Osomatsu hummed knowingly and raised his hand to drop onto Karamatsu’s head, ruffled his hair, then draped the arm across his shoulders. Silence fell within the cab’s interior—comfortable but not complacent, expectant but not impatient.
Eventually, without his willing it, Karamatsu’s voice climbed up his throat and escaped, small and tremulous and vulnerable, “I’m scared.” The unbidden admission tore apart his careful façade, and, mortified by his own display of frailty, he rested his elbows against his knees and hid his face in his hands. His words were little more than breath, “I don’t know. I don’t get it. I should be happy to go home, but instead I feel like… like this. It’s stupid. I’m stupid.”
He felt Osomatsu’s hand squeeze his shoulder and then lower to his back as his brother leaned a little further into his space.
“You’re not stupid,” Osomatsu assured, his tone uncharacteristically soft. “Anyone would be scared after going through something like that. It makes perfect sense.”
Karamatsu shook his head and fell lightly against Osomatsu’s shoulder. “No it doesn’t. It’s already over, so why—”
“There’re plenty of reasons. Like, maybe you’re afraid things will be different from how they were before.” Osomatsu laid the side of his head against the top of Karamatsu’s. “Well, hate to say it, but that’s pretty much inevitable. I’ve gotta take care of this shoulder, you’ve gotta take care of that medicine business—of course it’ll be different. But eeeveryone will be there, just like always. You’ll be surprised how quick everything starts to feel like normal, even if it’s not totally the same as it used to be.
“Or maybe you’re afraid that something like this might happen again. Now that,” he nudged Karamatsu gently, “is something you’ll never have to worry about. In fact, I almost feel sorry for the next stranger who tries to approach you. You better believe that they’ll be reamed to hell and back before we let them spend so much as a minute alone with you. Sorry if that’s a little overprotective, but you know how it is.
“But most of all, I think you’re probably scared about the future, right? I mean, of course you are. I was curious, so I asked the doctor about withdrawing from that benzo-whatever-the-hell-it-is, and she, uh… didn’t make it sound very fun. And even once you’re through that, there’s still the whole business with your ankle. I guess I can see why you wouldn’t want to press charges. You’ve got plenty on your plate already without having to deal with the shit attached to that. But you know, Karamatsu, there’s one super important thing that you’ve gotta get through that thick skull of yours: You aren’t alone in this anymore. You’ve got five brothers who’d worry themselves sick about you—and, in case you’ve forgotten, one of them literally took a bullet for you, so.”
Karamatsu responded with a small sniff and a smaller chuckle. “You’ll hold that over me for the rest of our lives, won’t you?”
“Oh, buddy, don’t you know it.” His hand found the top of Karamatsu’s head once more. “You just wait until winter comes along. The kerosene runs out in the heater, and everyone’s looking at each other, and then, all of a sudden… ‘Hey, Karamatsu, you remember that time I pushed you out of the way of a bullet? Did you know I could have died…?’ ”
Karamatsu snapped upright with a look of indignation. “That’s not fair!” he objected. “I tried to apologize for that, you know! You wouldn’t let me!”
Osomatsu laughed and laughed, and when he finally finished laughing, the grin he wore was so wide that it looked as though it would split into laughter all over again at any moment. “Now that’s the way things should be,” he said. “Arguing about refilling the kerosene half a year in advance. See? I told you things would feel normal in no time.” He swept his finger against his nose and reclined back against the seat. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say here is this: You don’t have to feel ashamed for being scared, you know? You’ve got a damn good reason for it. So if you’re ever feeling unsafe or unsure or even if you’re just having a hard time in general and want someone to lean on, you know we’re here for you. We love ya, you painful bastard. Even if we’re kind of crap at showing it sometimes.”
Karamatsu leaned his head backwards to prevent his welling tears from falling past his sunglasses. “I’ve already caused you all so much trouble, though,” he said—although even as the words came out, he knew how Osomatsu would reply. And from the way Osomatsu smacked his arm, it seemed that he knew that Karamatsu knew how he would reply.
“You’re damn right you did! So why stop now, right? Might as well take it all the way! I, for one, am so looking forward to making our little brothers wait on me hand and foot.”
Karamatsu nudged his glasses away just enough to rub his eyes dry, shaking his head, “Come on, Nii-san, haven’t they earned a break yet?” He was answered with silence, and when he looked to his brother, he was surprised to meet his discerning stare. “Wh— Did I say something wrong…?”
Osomatsu pointed suddenly, and Karamatsu jerked backwards to avoid the flung index finger. “I changed my mind!” he declared. “I don’t like that after all!”
“…What?”
“That ‘Nii-san, Nii-san’ thing! I don’t like it! At first it was like hell yeah, I finally got Karamatsu to acknowledge me as his big brother, but now that I’ve been hearing it for a while, I’ve decided it’s way too lonely to start using an honorific now. It feels too distant! It feels like we’re not friends anymore!” He leaned forward urgently. “We’re friends, right?!”
Karamatsu blinked, and then he laughed with the same brightness that Osomatsu had a moment earlier. “You’re worried about something like that? After bringing up the thing about taking a bullet for me? Of course we’re friends, Osomatsu!”
“Karamatsuuuu!” Osomatsu threw himself tearfully at his brother and clung to him with his single mobile arm. “Even if I still make fun of your painfulness?”
“That’s pretty much to be expected, so sure.”
“Even if I steal your snacks sometimes?”
“Well, it’s okay if it’s only sometimes.”
“Even if I take your money and use it on pachinko?!”
“…It would be nice if you’d stop that, actually.”
If only for the time being, Karamatsu was able to forget his insecurities and feel safe and normal in the company of his precious family. The taxi continued on its way until the scenery through the window began to look more familiar, and as they turned a corner and entered the neighborhood, Osomatsu got his brother’s attention, “Hey, Karamatsu, close your eyes for a while.”
Karamatsu made no effort to conceal his suspicion. “You know, the last time you said that—and it wasn’t even that long ago—you poked me in the eye.”
“Pfft, you’re still on about that? Come on, it was hilarious.” He glanced out the window for a moment and then waved his hand entreatingly. “I promise I won’t poke you in the eye again, so just do it!”
With a passing look of mildly distrustful resignation, Karamatsu closed his eyes.
“Good!” Osomatsu approved. “Now just wait like that for a while. We’re almost home.”
A minute passed, and then another, and just as Karamatsu began to fidget with the discomfort of not being able to see his surroundings, the cab slowed and stopped. The moment he cracked an eye open, though, Osomatsu immediately reprimanded him, “Nuh-uh! Not yet! Jeez, have a little patience!” There came the sound of the far door opening and Osomatsu exiting the taxi, and then the crutches were taken from Karamatsu’s lap. “Okay, get out of the car first, and then you can open your eyes.”
As instructed, albeit wary of the possibility that the truth of this surprise was that Osomatsu had changed their destination to the pachinko parlor or video rental store, Karamatsu slid across the seat and probed with his foot for the ground. He found purchase, extracted himself, and opened his eyes.
It was the same street that he’d known for his entire life, that he’d watch change over the many long years. It was the same house that he’d lived in for the duration of his life—the one he’d been born in, the one he’d played in, the one he’d grown up in. It was the same fence that had always stood around the perimeter, but it sported a new feature that Karamatsu didn’t recognize: a large board of wood fastened haphazardly next to the entryway with blinking Christmas lights strung around its edges and various splotches of paint splattered upon its surface in patterns that almost looked like words. And then he realized that a few of those splotches spelled his name, and they were words, and the board was a sign, and suddenly he wondered how he ever could have missed what was written there.
Karamatsu-niisan, welcome home!!!
Before Karamatsu could find any way to react other than to stare, Jyushimatsu’s face appeared from just beyond the gate, his wide smile somehow even wider and smilier than usual. “Karamatsu-niisan!” he shouted. “Do you like the sign we made?! Isn’t cool— Boehh!”
Jyushimatsu’s face abruptly jerked backwards behind the fence, and Todomatsu’s loud whispering followed, “Nii-san! What happened to jumping out on the count of three?!”
Ichimatsu meandered into view, and Choromatsu’s voice pursued him, “No, seriously, what happened to the count of three?!”
Ichimatsu lifted a hand in Karamatsu’s direction. “Does it matter anymore? He clearly already knows we’re here.”
Jyushimatsu’s yell boomed throughout the street, “One, two—!”
“Wait, we’re going now?!”
“Three!”
Jyushimatsu leaped out from behind the fence, and Choromatsu and Todomatsu stumbled out a moment after. The four of them looked to Karamatsu and announced, with levels of enthusiasm ranging from almost impartial to outright excessive, “Welcome home!”
Welcome home.
All at once, the weight of those words fell upon him like a thick blanket, swaddling him in their softness and warmth.
“I—” Karamatsu raised a hand to cover his mouth and stop the word from disintegrating into a sob, but if he’d hoped to maintain any illusion of composure, it was already too late. His tears closed his throat and heated his face and transformed his thoughts into little more than soggy whimpers that threatened to buckle his knees.
I’m home. I’m home. I’m home.
Todomatsu’s arms found him first, and the youngest son buried his face against Karamatsu’s chest. Osomatsu was next, followed almost simultaneously by Choromatsu and Ichimatsu, and before as few as two seconds elapsed, Jyushimatsu was launching himself at the group with such sheer energy that he inadvertently bowled them all to the ground.
The Matsuno sextuplets lay in a heap of crying and tangled limbs and maybe someone’s foot was stuck between the shoulder rest and the handgrip of one of the crutches that had fallen with them but nobody cared because everything was more okay than it had been in forever.