blizzardbox | We're painted red to fit right in

We're painted red to fit right in

[For the last six months, the Matsuno household has been abnormally quiet.

There's no running up and down the stairs. No boistrous chatter over breakfast. No brawls breaking out in the bedroom at night. No games of Mahjong on a cold night and then yet more fights breaking out over that.

There is silence.

Only three people have been living in that house, and it's quieter than it's ever been. The only brother- the eldest- remaining rarely left it anymore. He rarely left the bedroom upstairs, to be precise. Sometimes he'd venture up onto the roof, but even that got too hard to swallow with all the constant reminders of how they'd all left him.

One by one, they all left. Not a single one of them had come back since, not even to check up on one another.

It had taken about this long for Osomatsu to finally stop caring. After all, it seemed like he cared a lot more than anyone else did. It was the only reason he was still even here, sleeping in an empty futon and eating his meals around an empty table. Eventually he did this less and less and left the futon only long enough to relieve himself. Back to bed, back to sleep, back to unconsciousness where he didn't have to think unless he started dreaming. He didn't talk to his parents much, but when he did he still had a knack for making things seem okay when they really weren't. It's the only reason he was able to scoot by barely living until his body just couldn't take it anymore.

Karamatsu had been sleeping in after having yet another failed interview when he was awoken to Chibita shaking him roughly and trying to give him the phone. "It's for you, idjit," Karamatsu barely made out as he fumbled the phone a few times before blearily getting it to his ear. Within a minute of receiving the phone and hanging it up, Karamatsu had thrown his clothes on and bolted out the door without telling Chibita what was going on. He hadn't even gotten any of his things, he just.

Went.

Osomatsu wasn't doing well. It was like, ever since his brothers left, he just...hadn't gotten better. Matsuyo didn't even know what to do to help her oldest son anymore, but she had known that his brothers would want to be there with him if he was this bad off. Karamatsu, for his part, couldn't believe it. Osomatsu, of all of them? Surely not...

And yet, it was unfortunately true. Karamatsu had actually been the first Matsuyo got hold of since he was living close by with Chibita. It had given Karamatsu a chance to see Osomatsu alone, which he was grateful for. The Osomatsu he'd come home to wasn't the Osomatsu he'd left, wasn't even the Osomatsu he'd dragged out of the room that night before Choromatsu left. He was buried under months of depression and what was left was battered and nearly completely withered away. That alone was enough to completely shatter Karamatsu's heart, but what he really couldn't take was seeing his younger siblings filter home one by one.

Jyushimatsu. Todomatsu. Choromatsu.

Two days passed and only five sons were home. Osomatsu was getting worse. He'd stopped eating entirely and would barely tolerate water. Not only that, but the fourth of their number- Ichimatsu- was nowhere to be found. He couldn't be contacted. No job, no number, no home. It was like he'd vanished off the face of the earth. Before Matsuyo could completely expire from the stress, though, Karamatsu offered himself up to go find him. He'd take Todomatsu's phone with him so he could keep in touch, just in case. The others should stay behind with Osomatsu.

That had been three hours ago, and now Karamatsu found himself in a largely unfamiliar ward of Tokyo. After a light-speed search of their hometown, he'd begun asking around. Have you seen someone who looks like me?

No. Sorry. Nobody like that.

Where was he?

Karamatsu couldn't stop looking, he had to be somewhere here. He didn't care if he got looks for shouting in the streets, because he knew his voice among all of theirs was the most recognizable should Ichimatsu happen to hear it.

He had to be here.]

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[He hadn't wanted to leave. Of them, really, he figured the only one who wanted to leave the house less was the one who hadn't, Osomatsu. He knew he had no marketable skills, knew he couldn't talk to people. He knew, even before he left, that he wouldn't make it in the world on his own. That was probably why that half of a creme bun he'd eaten had tasted stale. Why he still tasted it sometimes, like bile in his throat.]

[He hadn't found a job. He'd spent the meager amount of money he had on cat food. And now he didn't even have that anymore, so his strays were going hungry, too. It had been less than a week before he was out of money entirely, and shuffled his way out of Akatsuka ward in a shamed inability to even face his feline friends. He was nothing, he had nothing. He rarely ate, almost never slept, and yet somehow he settled pretty neatly into homeless life. It was very low-maintenance, to be homeless. No one looked at you, people crossed to the other side of the street to avoid you, no one expected anything of you. He could just sit in alleys, or on sidewalks out of the way, and not be bothered. He was never asked to do, or be, anything.]

[Except for the times this odd little couple found him. He had harassed them on Christmas, if he recalled correctly, and somehow the girl kept finding him. They were part of why he'd originally left Akatsuka Ward, them and the cats. He was trying to avoid being a bother, and somehow this girl kept finding him. At one point he remembered tiredly accusing her of stalking him, and she'd only laughed quietly and wrapped her scarf around his neck. It was getting cold, after all. She'd pressed a small piece of paper with her address written on it in neat handwriting and told him to come find them if he ever needed anything, please, and he'd later found a few thousand yen notes in a tiny hand-sewn pocket at the end of the scarf. Her name was Yuki, which he found ironic, and no matter how many times he shuffled to a new area, she seemed to find him at least once a month and repeat her gentle treatment of him. She and her boyfriend would show up, hoist him by the arms and take him to a bath house and to dinner, and then gift him with the very clothes off their backs and hide money in the pockets.]

[He still rarely ate, usually only doing so when walking made his vision spot. He didn't want to pass out and wind up in a hospital, or have someone take the couple's money off his unconscious body. In this pattern, Ichimatsu had lost nearly all of his body weight. He usually only slept after these episodes, stumbling his way to a cheap place for something unhealthy and only somewhat nutritious, paying for it and then napping fitfully wherever he settled to eat it. He stayed a night at a cheap ryokan one night, but found it was even harder to sleep indoors by himself than it was to sleep outdoors.]

[He... felt awful, really, for never checking back on his brothers, but he couldn't. Not when they had all likely made something of themselves. They would be ashamed. They would be worried. They would want to take care of him again, and he couldn't be the failure. He already knew he was, but he didn't know what he'd do with them realizing and looking at him differently for it.]

[Six months found him two wards over, his bag mostly full with folded clothes in varying states of unclean and a grubby old stray cat curled protectively at his hip where he dozed against a dumpster. He'd found the stray a few weeks prior, and made small bags of cheap cat food last a week to keep him around. His purr was soothing, and he was about as much of a mess as Ichimatsu.]

[Two wards over...that wasn't a trip Karamatsu could make on foot in a day. Of course he'd been given plenty of money for bus fare as well as potential emergencies, but he wanted to make sure he'd combed the entirety of Akatsuka first before venturing elsewhere. That's why he'd been gone this long, and now he was here...and Ichimatsu still couldn't be found. He was starting to get worried.

What if the only thing left of Ichimatsu was an unmarked grave?

But he couldn't afford to think that way, not when Osomatsu was so ill. He couldn't. He would keep searching for him even if he had to scour the entirety of Japan. That's where he stood currently as he ducked into a nearby convenience store and asked the clerk if they'd seen anyone like Ichimatsu...only to be completely stunned by the admission that some guy with that same description had been buying cat food and- before they could finish, Karamatsu was gone again.

Karamatsu's lungs burned as he ran down the street, his whole body exhausted from his endless search yet still determined not to rest until he could find something, some sign of his younger brother. It was probably fitting in an ironic sort of way that he'd noticed that grubby little cat before he spotted the person next to it. He was so shrouded in the shadow cast by the dumpster that he'd almost missed him. Karamatsu had actually thudded into a telephone pole when he continued rubbernecking as he walked, but it barely phased him for only a moment.

A fraction of a second later he moves to approach, but something stops him. Something makes him hesitate, like...a sharp tugging in his chest trying to pull him back. Ichimatsu, most of all, wouldn't take this sort of news well. But how well is he even, this way? Homeless, dying of starvation in his own right...no, he couldn't.

Karamatsu's throat flexes, completely dry as he crouches down and calls out in a noticably tremulous voice.]

Ichimatsu?

[The couple had gotten his name the first time they'd picked him up on the street. They'd treated him to ramen, refusing to take no for an answer, and all exchanged names. Ichimatsu was ashamed every time he recalled the instance, because he'd sat at the little counter in the stand and cried into his hands when they'd asked him what he was doing, why he was out on his own and with no money. He'd cried for an impossibly long time, too tired to stop, and Yuki had just circled around to the other side of him and they looped both their arms behind him and held him. They hadn't asked him further, only his name. Beyond them... Well, no one knew who he was. He floated around wards, staying out of densely populated areas and periodically accepting scraps of food from people who felt bad for him. He probably hadn't spoken regularly in most of the six months he'd been gone, sparing words sparsely only for Yuki and her boyfriend.]

[So, to have his name called was somewhat startling. For a while he thought he was dreaming, especially with as recognizable as the voice was-- but the cat beside him shifted and stretched, reaching a paw out to his side and prodding. It was as if the old creature was saying "Hey, there's someone here for you,". He opens his eyes and looks at Karamatsu for nearly ten seconds, just blinking, before recognition hits him.]

[He gasps, trying to press himself further against the wall and the dumpster, but doesn't speak.]

[He's small. Ichimatsu had always had a knack for folding himself up to seem smaller than he was, but he'd always been a little softer than some of his brothers. Their mother spoiled them, and Ichimatsu being as sedentary as he was, it made sense for him to keep the weight of most of what he ate. He moved slowly when he did move, so he had a belly and thick legs, but it never really seemed to bother him. But, even just a cursory glance at him folded up on the ground, Karamatsu would be able to see the stark differences to him. His eyes were dull, duller than usual, his skin sallow and sickly, making the circles beneath his lidded eyes much darker than the second born may have remembered. His clothes were still decided too large for him-- he'd always liked to be comfortable --but now hung off him more than before. His features were sharper, now, almost like Choromatsu's, angular and ghostly in comparison to the roundness he once held. His fingers were knobby-knuckled and spidery against the sleeves of his sweater, and when he drew back his knees seemed to pull farther to his form than they'd previously had the space to. He was obviously skinny-- too skinny, for someone like Ichimatsu who had always been a heftier young man.]

Edited 2016-08-12 04:00 (UTC)

[It's terrible, really. It so shocking to see Ichimatsu in such a decrepit state that Karamatsu can feel his entire body go cold at the sight, and he probably would have stumbled if he hadn't gotten down to one knee already. The cat that had been curled up by Ichimatsu's side had startled at the sudden movement, hissing and backing quickly towards the far edge of the dumpster before leaping up onto it to glower at Karamatsu from above.

Karamatsu doesn't realize until blood begins to roar in his ears along with the heavy pounding of his heart that his breathing had gotten a bit quick with alarm, because...Ichimatsu looks...

...he looks like Osomatsu.

Osomatsu's more well cared for in certain areas- he's relatively clean, he has nice clothes- but they both carry that same haggard appearance, and for a moment Karamatsu wavers between holding his ground and clamping a hand over his mouth to stave off the horrific wave of nausea that just hit him at the comparison.

He can't bring another dying brother home. He can't do that to his mother. The rest of them. He can't do it.

All of this processes in a fraction of a second that feels like a century to the second eldest, his eyes boring into Ichimatsu even though it looks very much like he's staring right through him. He wants to approach, but he can't move. It feels like he's been cemented to the asphalt, his body pumped full of lead and turned to jello all at the same time.

Eventually, one arm wraps tightly around his own stomach while the other reaches towards his brother, his fingertips trembling. He tries to smile, but it doesn't happen. It's a grimace overshadowed by the panic and anxiety dancing in his eyes, making Karamatsu into something Ichimatsu probably has never seen, either.]

B-brother...I...

[Immediately his throat closes and he can't continue. He just reaches for him, because that's all he can do.]

[He had never once meant it when he said things like "I wouldn't mind dying". But right then, in that moment, watching Karamatsu cycle through shock and horror at his appearance, Ichimatsu sincerely wished to be dead, maybe dumped in the dumpster immediately to his left.]

[He felt... dirty. It had been two weeks since he'd last seen Yuki and her boyfriend, and while he made some vague attempt at being clean with a few small things he'd picked up at a convenience store, he knew he smelled. He didn't have a regular way to clean the clothes he kept-- Yuki would take most of the contents of his bag away to be washed and return them the next day if he let her find him again, but that still left him two weeks between visits to sit in his own filth. Sleeping near dumpsters didn't help much, and he felt his own stomach turn at the things that must have been going through Karamatsu's head.]

[He flinches away from the hand, drawing in further on himself still, to where it looked like his chest had collapsed to make room for his knees. His voice, when he uses it, crackles into a breathy, small growl.]

None of you were supposed to find me.

[...

A horrible realization hits Karamatsu before Ichimatsu quite finishes that murmured growl of his, and it's that they...actually don't have time for this. He doesn't have time to properly get his brother back on his feet, clean him up and feed him and make sure he's okay. He's not okay, and he's certainly not going to be after he knows why Karamatsu sought him out.

Ichimatsu isn't the only one who wishes he could disappear, right now.]

...Ichimatsu. Y...you have to come with me, now.

[He hunches further, shaking, and glares.]

Says fucking who?

[......]

...something has happened. Mother needs us home.

["Mother". Not Mommy, this time.

Karamatsu's voice is so strained that it honestly sounds like his vocal chords are threatening to break, his eyes a bit red and much too bright in the darkness of the alley.

He needs to get Ichimatsu up and moving with him. He'll...try to explain after he's certain they're on their way.]

[That stops him.]

[Like... all but entirely. He flinches again, looking like he's actually been struck, and searches Karamatsu's eyes for an explanation. When all he finds is strain and frightened brightness, he feels his stomach drop out and his breath hitches.]

...Karamatsu,

[Not Shittymatsu. Karamatsu. He walks his hand to the top of his kneecap, and it shakes when he reaches it outward and away, and it doesn't stay raised for long, like he can't even manage to hold it out.]

...what happened.

[That's about the time that Karamatsu's expression really wavers. He wants to keep it hidden behind his eyes so he doesn't cause Ichimatsu to panic right from the get-go, but this is serious. It's more serious than anything that's ever happened and they can't afford to waste time beating around the bush or being vague.

Karamatsu is the one who reaches for Ichimatsu, this time, keeping his hand outstretched with the strength Ichimatsu doesn't have.]

Osomatsu is not well.

[What little color there still was to his skin blanched white as his fingers loosely tangled in Karamatsu's. He'd never been tactile, and he had even less contact these days than he had when he was at home, so the whole of it sent odd little buzzing shivers down his spine, but... More than that, Karamatsu's words dropped into the pit of his stomach like ice, and he had to swallow against the sudden urge to be sick, even with nothing in his belly.]

[He croaks a time or two before he manages words.]

Wh... what?

[Karamatsu edges closer to Ichimatsu as he takes the other's hand in his own- god, they're so thin now- and tries to very gently get him to sit up off of the wall. He'll carry him on his back if he has to, but they really...really don't have time. The faster they're heading home, the better.

He knows why he's being urgent, but his brain is violently rejecting that notion and substituting it as wanting to be there for his family to support them. Nothing more.]

He's...he's sick.

[Karamatsu repeats himself, having to avert his gaze a little. It's not a lie, but he's way more than just sick and he knows it.]

I told Mother I would find you...bring you home with me.

[He's sick.]

[I told mother I would find you.]

[Ichimatsu isn't stupid. He knows fully well what that means. And he feels like an absolute shitstain for never checking back. For leaving on the note of "This is for the best, probably,". He forgets how to breathe for a moment, and Karamatsu's urging sends lightning through his bones and he's shaking, but he's trying to get up. He knows he won't make it all the way to their house from here on his own, not with as little as he's eaten in the last few days. Why hadn't he eaten? Why hadn't he tried to contact them? Why hadn't--]

[He sucks in a sudden breath, realizing that the reason his lungs were burning was that he hadn't, and presses against the wall, tugging Karamatsu's fingers.]

I c-can't--

[For Osomatsu, he'll swallow his pride and be honest. Uncoiling his other arm from his knees, he looks up at Karamatsu, small and afraid.]

...I can't, I won't get that far, Karamatsu.

[Help me, is the underlying statement there, spoken with his eyes but not his mouth.]

It's alright. I am going to help you.

[He says that without hesitation, and by the time Ichimatsu does look up at him with eyes so full of fear and trepidation for what's to come, he's shifted gears entirely.

He's had to be the eldest ever since he returned home. He was sortof unceremoniously shoved into the position, but it's easier for him than it would have been for the rest. He's used to assuming it when Osomatsu can't...just not under these circumstances.

For right now, though, he's already three or four steps ahead of what he's physically doing, pulling himself up to Ichimatsu's side so he can pull his arm up around his shoulders.]

There is a bus stop on the corner. I'll...I'll carry you there. It will take us to the next ward. We will...need to take a second bus to Akatsuka, but...the walk to the house will not be far.

[He'll carry him there, too.

Ichimatsu might also notice in Karamatsu's quick explanation that his speech isn't at all smooth like it once was. It's stilted, jerky, strained like he's thinking about one thing yet saying another. He probably hasn't slept in a few days but at least he can actually walk.]

[He hates this--]

[He smells, he's gross, he's dirty, he's homeless, and Karamatsu is just dropping everything to help him get home. Because Osomatsu is dying.]

[...because Osomatsu is dying. It feels like a string holding him together has snapped when his mind thinks that-- because it has to be true, or why would they go to so much trouble to find him? And send Karamatsu, of all people? The air goes out of his lungs and he clasps his own hands together once one is looped around Karamatsu's shoulders, and he's. Embarrassed. He's so small now, he can't weigh but a hundred pounds, and probably five to ten of that is all the clothing he's wearing. His attention goes briefly over his shoulder to the cat, still perched on the dumpster, and his breath hitches a little.]

I'll-- be back for you, [And he's using the leverage of Karamatsu's shoulder to get to his feet-- He can stand, he can probably walk a block, but slowly. Much, much too slowly. He's spent so much time walking along walls and not going but a yard or two without stopping, the muscles in his legs are probably all but atrophied. He feels weak, and stupid, and like the absolute worst brother in the world, and he has to make a conscious effort to not bleed that into his every move. Turning back to face forward, he passes an apologetic look sideways to Karamatsu.]

I'm-- sorry, I smell.

[Karamatsu, for his part, doesn't answer. He just waits, giving Ichimatsu as much time as he needs to situate himself and get some sort of semblance of balance back on his feet. For a second he's confused by the first thing he says, but then he remembers the cat and feels a momentary swell of pity in his chest. Ichimatsu's only companion for god knows how long, but he can spend a lifetime being guilty over that later.

He has a lifetime left.

Almost too soon, Karamatsu reaches back to take hold of Ichimatsu's legs as he crouches back down to one knee, hefting him up onto his back. He seems completely heedless to anything wrong with him right now, even though his lack of weight is very concerning to say the least. Once he's certain Ichimatsu isn't going to fall, he rounds the corner.

If Ichimatsu didn't understand the urgency before, he will when Karamatsu starts jogging down the street with Ichimatsu clinging to his shoulders.

Bus arrives in ten minutes, he can make it around the block in twelve, eight if he runs. Next bus is at 6:30. He has plenty of yen for bus fare, enough to get them home.

Karamatsu's thoughts are a complete scatter of just stuff as he fights to recall everything he needs to do to get back...and fast.]

[It's... odd, suddenly, to be carried this way. It's far from the first time it's happened-- He can recall at least twice Karamatsu has carried him home on his back because he was too drunk to walk home on his own.]

[Funny, Karamatsu was always taking care of him when all he did was spit acid at him with words and gestures. His arms tighten carefully around the second born's shoulders, and he tries not to think too hard about what it must mean that he's jogging. Maybe he's just trying to catch a bus so they don't have to wait. Yeah, that had to be it. Bus schedules were tricky, after all...]

[He feels how tense he is, from being on his back, and for the first time in probably ten years he has a conscientious thought for Karamatsu. One of his hands shifts and pats his brother's collarbone.]

...make a left, up here. It's quicker.

[When you've malnourished yourself to the point that walking a block can take an hour, you start relying on short cuts when you need things.]

[Karamatsu doesn't hesitate. His brain chugs to a brief stop to consider Ichimatsu's words before he hangs a left, his arms tightening around his legs to avoid dropping him. It's probably not safe running around corners and down the street that others are trying to walk on, but he knows the wait for a bus- should they miss it- would be agonizing. Not only that, but Karamatsu doesn't know this ward well. The best he's been able to do is memorize where the bus stops are for a quick exit should things downturn drastically at home.

Karamatsu's heaving by the time he does reach the stop, and blessedly there's no one else waiting and the bus hasn't yet arrived. It should in about two minutes if his mental math is correct.

It gives him too much time to ruminate over Ichimatsu's condition. He can feel the bones in his legs and his clothing hangs off of him in large folds. The arms around his neck are so weak that Karamatsu is honestly debating just not putting him down.

His eyes close as the pounding of his heart in his ears makes it hard to think, though he does manage to speak after a moment.]

I-it is alright. We will get there.

[He just hopes he was right about this bus.]

[He wouldn't say he's familiar with this ward, just a few areas. He'd taken a train to get here, probably, but he knew where most of the bus stations around him were as well. That was usually how Yuki found him, was by taking a bus around the area.]

[When Karamatsu comes to a stop at the bus station, he rests his head against the side of his neck and closes his eyes.]

Sit down, you've got a few minutes. I'm not as heavy as I used to be but I'm still heavy.

[He doesn't want to sit, he wants to keep moving, stop wasting time- but the bus isn't here and he's tired from the jog, so after shifting from foot to foot he finally relents and takes a seat on the far edge of the bench nearby. He sits on it sideways so Ichimatsu doesn't have to get off of his back, keeping his eyes trained on the highway for the bus to pull up.

It's going to be the longest bus he's ever waited for, but he hasn't gotten any recent calls. He hopes that's good news.]

[He isn't quite sure what to do with the fact that Karamatsu sat sideways to keep him on his back, so he just huffs softly. It was probably easier, because then he wouldn't have to crouch over to get him back on his back, but-- He squirms.]

I can get on a bus, [He says, trying to pull away from Karamatsu's grasp.] I'm just slow.

[Karamatsu could easily let him go, but he doesn't. He stays right the way he is even with Ichimatsu squirming against him, shaking his head slowly.]

That is fine, but the bus is not here yet. Let's just...rest this way until it arrives.

[He doesn't want to say that the only reason he's not putting Ichimatsu down is because he doesn't want to let him go. He hasn't even seen Ichimatsu in half a year...and this is turning out to be one awful reunion.]

[He grunts, but knows better than to keep trying. He's never have an abundance of energy, least of all when he's starved himself to literal skin and bones. So he settles again, crossing his arms and his ankles and leaning in a half-assed koala grab parading as a hug. His arms squeeze for the briefest of moments.]

...fine, okay.

[And from that point on for the next few minutes, Karamatsu doesn't say anything. Mostly he's just trying to catch his breath after that run, otherwise he'staking advantage of sitting so he can at least attempt to calm himself down a little from the rush of thoughts and emotions trying to overwhelm him.

Not only is Osomatsu on his death bed, but Ichimatsu is honestly not much better off right now, and Karamatsu doesn't know what to do. What is he going to tell everyone? He can't just bring Ichimatsu back like that and pretend everything is okay even though they'll probably be able to gather that he'd been homeless all this time.

It just feels like things just keep getting worse and worse and he can't really do anything to make it better. It's the worst feeling of helplessness in the world, but...the only thing he can do now is bring Ichimatsu home.]

...I am sorry we did not come to look for you sooner. None of us have really...been together.

[He's maybe dozing against Karamatsu's shoulder, oddly enamored with the smell and warmth of home even knowing the dire circumstances, and shifts slightly to look over his shoulder when Karamatsu speaks.]

...I made my way two wards from home for a reason, Karamatsu. I didn't want to be found.

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We're painted red to fit right in

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Tags on my phone bc im thirsty for angst

gOMEN I WAS TRYING TO FIX MY CAR,

YOU'RE FINE FRIEND

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