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Ichimatsu was sick. It wasn't anything physical that bothered him. There was no disease fucking up his immune system. The bile fighting to rise from the back of his throat wasn't the result of some summer flu. He was indeed sick, but in a different way.
He had always been like this. Always so… miserable. A painful presence to drag around, always in the way. He was a deadweight, an obstacle, a pitiful person. Someone to be loathed. It truly seemed that he was simply born to hate, and be hated. Whatever his grand purpose in life was supposed to be, this misery was the constant. Pain was something he was always meant to experience, and the feeling came to him as naturally as breathing. It weighed heavily on his chest and suffocated him.
Ichimatsu listened to his family chatting animatedly over breakfast downstairs, conversational as ever despite his absence. He wasn't in the mood to join in on the usual chaos right now. It wasn’t like he was as talkative as them, anyways. Lately, he had felt more disconnected from his surroundings, from himself, from reality. Ichimatsu withdrew into himself deeper, mindlessly moving through his daily routine until he didn’t even bother to keep up with it, barely present in his own mind.
Slowly, Ichimatsu turned from one side to the other, his body ached cruelly from being motionless for so long. He winced, realizing that he hadn’t showered in nearly two weeks. The reminder alone disgusted him.
An awareness of his own angst opened deeper the maw of self-hatred that he had tried to repress, yet soon began to indulge in. It was a vicious cycle. He was vaguely aware of it happening, but felt indifferent to stop it. Perhaps he had become too comfortable in self-pity. Maybe this was how Ichimatsu Matsuno was meant to be. Was he meant to be this helpless? Was his passiveness a punishment by some sort of God? Whatever it was, he had long-since accepted to remain this way for the rest of his life. Nothing seemed to matter anymore, regardless of the who and what.
It was a chore to get up as of late. Lacking any energy to even bathe these past two weeks, he had resigned to rotting away in bed. Ichimatsu scowled to himself at the thought. He really was disgusting. He just couldn’t do a single thing right now but lay still on the futon, staring at the ceiling as he drifted in and out of sleep. Sleeping was his escape from reality, a space where he could forget all of his worldly troubles and simply dream. Ichimatsu sighed deeply, sinking deeper into the cushion on the floor, wrapping himself tighter within the blanket.
Depression was the standard for Ichimatsu. Those who had known him at any point in time were aware of this. They had all become accustomed to the lower dips in his already gloomy mood that happened every few months. It was the inevitable pattern of his life. Even after a period of feeling somewhat alright, he always found himself returning to this spiral. At times, it resulted in Ichimatsu isolating himself to the point where he couldn’t leave his room, as he was right now.
He sighed to himself again. It wasn’t like there was someone holding him at gunpoint forcing him to stay here. He just… couldn’t get up, couldn't leave. At least, not without feeling every inch of his body burn with anxiety and upset before returning to the safety and comfort of his futon. There, he could hide under the blankets, away from the rest of the world with the solitary company of his own misery. Misery was probably going to be his only girlfriend at this point.
Whenever Ichimatsu had dared to go beyond the looming shoji doors of his room and sneak downstairs, it was only when it was absolutely necessary. When he began to tremble with hunger pains beyond the point of ignoring, or if he needed to use the bathroom. Even then, it was only a lukewarm cup of ramen in the dead of night, accompanied by a trip to the bathroom where he refrained from facing the reflection in the mirror. The temptation to break the glass grew with each passing day.
Completely avoiding his brothers was impossible, being one of six. However, if there was one thing to make them ignore him completely, it was when he resolved to being completely and totally unresponsive. He knew that despite how annoying they could be, they meant well. But when it came to facing the brutality of his mental well-being, they didn’t quite know what to do. They often felt just as helpless as he did. If Ichimatsu was indifferent to his suffering, it was easier for them to wait it out until he was somewhat better again.
Thankfully, most of his brothers did leave him alone, trying to give him his space and time alone. Some had tried to talk to him, but eventually gave up when he didn't respond. There was only one brother who never stopped trying. One who was stubborn in his resolve, and relentless in his care. He never stopped checking in on Ichimatsu, talking with him about his day, even if there was no reply. He always refilled his water bottle, talking to him about the importance of hydration. He left him halfway decent meals when he could, always carefully wrapped in tin foil with a thoughtful little note. That person was Jyushimatsu.
Ichimatsu didn’t know how to feel about his younger brother caring so much. A part of him wanted Jyushimatsu to just give up and leave him, to forget the thought of his bed-bound brother sinking deeper in his own misery. He wanted to see him go goofing off and having fun with the others, without a care in the world, until Ichimatsu was somewhat normal once more. Someone as joyful as Jyushimatsu didn't need his messed-up older brother putting a damper on his Jyushimatsu-ness. Though…it didn't really seem to bother him all that much.
Another part of him clung desperately onto the hope that Jyushimatsu understood more than he let on. Maybe these acts of kindness weren't just his cheerful younger brother just being his eccentric self. Ichimatsu was admittedly selfish. He couldn't suppress his hope for the possibility that Jyushumatsu’s care ran deeper than that. Deep beneath that nearly-endless feeling of emptiness, buried further beyond what he bothered to acknowledge, he wished for more.
Jyushimatsu gave him hope. He helped him to see the world differently, to think about things that he would have otherwise passively dismissed. Even at the lowest points of his depression, Jyushimatsu was there. He consistently showed up when Ichimatsu neglected himself, and treated him tenderly with care, as one might to a bruised wound. He did this all with a smile, and on occasion, a laugh, as he would giggle at the jokes he made up himself. Jyushimatsu never once treated him like a burden, even when Ichimatsu truly felt like one. If anything, he seemed to look forward to any time spent alone with him. When it was just the two of them, he just seemed glad to be in his company.
And yet, even in all of Jyushimatsu’s sunshine, in all of his playfulness and cheerful ways, Ichimatsu couldn’t help but feel that he was his shadow. Such a brilliant light couldn’t exist without an equally deep darkness to counter it. While he was certainly beyond grateful for his brother’s care, he struggled to accept it. It felt pathetic, to be so dull and so weak in the presence of someone that shone that brightly.
Ichimatsu snapped out of his thoughts, becoming aware once more of the bustling noises of his family below him. Downstairs, he heard the shuffling of socks against the carpet as they went to change into their day clothes. Dishes clanked and clashed as they were being put away between the chattering of his other brothers.
Their morning was just beginning, and who knew what they'd all be up to today. Ichimatsu listened absentmindedly to his brother’s voices echoing through the house. Todomatsu casually mentioned a date with two of his coworkers at a coffee shop, and Osomatsu immediately begged to tag along. Choromatsu told them that he would be visiting a local bookstore to grab the latest volume of a new series that he had been reading. Karamatsu was going to the park to practice playing his new guitar. And Jyushimatsu…?
Ichimatsu listened as heavy footsteps clambered up the stairs, pausing right at the shoji door, which then slid slowly open. He twitched slightly at the sudden intrusion, but didn't turn around to see who it was. He didn't need to.
“Ichimatsu-niisan?” Jyushimatsu whispered, as if he wouldn't have woken up from his loud footsteps anyways. Ichimatsu would've snickered if his brother’s tone hadn't put him on edge. Jyushimatsu’s voice was gentle, quite unlike his usual excitable shouting. Ichimatsu didn't respond, too tired to give even a sound of acknowledgement of any kind. If he were lucky, Jyushimatsu would eventually turn back and leave him alone.
For a minute, the room was deathly silent. All Ichimatsu could hear was his own heartbeat pounding in his ears as he squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t know what to make of the pause, leaving thoughts to run rapidly through his head. Had Jyushimatsu given up? If he was still here, he would've heard him leave just as loud as he had come in. What was he planning? Even though Ichimatsu was the closest to him out of all of their brothers, it was still near impossible to tell what was going on in the mind of someone like Jyushimatsu.
Before Ichimatsu could think about it anymore, his breath was suddenly knocked out of him. He was then tossed into the air, swiftly stripped of his pajamas, and promptly shoved into his purple hoodie and sweatpants. Jyushimatsu threw him quickly over his toned shoulder as if he were a bag of rice. Ichimatsu let out a wild howl as his world began to shake, and Jyushimatsu broke into a running speed. He clawed desperately at his back, his limp body flopping uselessly against him like a flag in the wind. Jyushimatsu ran faster than what he thought was physically possible, continuing pointedly onward despite Ichimatsu’s screams of protest.
After being tied to Jyushimatsu’s baseball bat for so long for his practice, Ichimatsu figured that he’d be used to this kind of thing. Hell no. He was shrieking frantically, not unlike one of his street cats in a fight. He was absolutely terrified of and clueless to… whatever this was, that was happening.
As the two dashed through the streets of the Akatsuka Ward, he felt his consciousness dip, the bright light of the sun above fading into a pure, blinding white. If this was finally the sweet, welcoming release of death, or simply the shock of seeing the sunlight hitting him hard, he didn’t know. Either way, he was headed towards the light and he was almost grateful for it.
Right when he felt just about ready to pass onto the afterlife, Jyushimatu’s running gradually slowed, before halting completely to a stop. Ichimatsu shifted in his brother’s iron grip and came to, squinting at the harsh sunlight. A floral fragrance hung in the atmosphere all around them, carried on the crisp breeze of open air. Ichimatsu inhaled deeply, catching his breath. The scent was also rather… earthy. He meagerly attempted to turn around, curious to get a look over his shoulder at their surroundings. All he was able to make out was an endless sea of emerald green grass beneath their feet. Just where the hell were they?
“Jyushimatsu,” He choked out the name, intending to use a scolding tone, but confusion seeped into his voice. Ichimatsu fidgeted in his grasp, craning his head in an attempt to turn and face him but he hadn't been let go yet.
“Haha! You spoke, niisan!” Jyushimatsu tossed him up in the air again, gentler this time. Ichimatsu yelped before landing squarely in his arms, leaning against his chest. He could finally get a proper look at the area. A field? After blinking a bit and adjusting to the brightness of the sunlight, he realized that they were indeed in a meadow of sorts, and probably pretty far out of town. This was a place that he had only heard of in passing conversation, a spot that was rather well known for its fields of blooming sakurasou flowers.
A rich aroma of earth and wind adorned the air, which felt incredibly refreshing. The breeze was crisp, carrying a sweet floral scent across the open fields. It was all somewhat of a shock to his senses, though not an unwelcome one. It was a stark change in comparison to his usual stagnant environment of filth, unwashed, sweaty blankets, a hard, dusty floor and dirty clothes. The sun was still rising high, the world around them bathed in a warm late-morning glow. Fluffy white clouds of cotton blew sleepily across the horizon, off into the distance where the city began. Ichimatsu’s jaw gaped slightly at the sight. This was actually… a really beautiful day.
Jyushimatsu knelt down and placed him down on the ground, planting himself on the grass beside him. Ichimatsu continued to stare out in astonishment, too stunned to process everything. After a moment, he swallowed, and slowly turned to look over at his brother, who was rolling gleefully around in the flowers next to him.
“Jyushimatsu… Why did you bring me here?” Ichimatsu glanced at him wearily.
“Because you needed to get out!” Jyushimatsu paused his frolicking to flash him a cheerful grin. Ichimatsu felt something in his heart stir at that. What an honest, simple answer. Jyushimatsu quite literally carried him all the way out here just to get him out of the house. He knew that Ichimatsu needed to get out of his room, out of his head. It seemed like he always knew when it was time to nudge him, or else let his brother fall deeper into his misery.
Ichimatsu pulled his knees to his chest and crossed his arms, putting his head down on them. His mind reeled at this simple- well, honestly, bizarre act of love. He sighed deeply for what felt like the millionth time today, trying to feel at ease. Jyushimatsu laid back down onto the grass, closing his eyes. They sat in silence like that for several moments..
“I knew you weren’t going to do it without my help, niisan.” Jyushimatsu stated plainly.
Ichimatsu’s eyes started to sting as tears began to form. He rubbed at them with his sleeves, trying to quickly blink the rising emotions away. His head spun as he struggled to make sense of Jyushimatsu’s actions. Why would he do this for.. trash like him? Why was he the one that put in the most effort to help him out of any of their brothers ? Why, why, why…
“Why bother?” Ichimatsu managed to whisper, his lower lip trembling.
Jyushimatsu flipped onto his stomach and cocked his head, resting his chin on the palms of his hands.
“Because I love you, Ichimatsu-niisan!” He stated the answer as if it were plainly obvious.
That was what broke Ichimatsu. He was the man who believed he was so unlovable at his core to the point where he fantasized about killing himself to stop the emptiness in his heart. And here he was, met on equal footing with a kind man with pure joy in his soul, someone whose love knew no bounds. Someone who, despite everything, still loved him as if it was the most natural thing to do.
Ichimatsu keeled over and sobbed openly, unable to hold back any longer. He was unsure of what to make of everything, feeling more at the moment than he had allowed himself to in ages. He had no idea what to think, he could barely understand what he felt, or even if he deserved to feel it right now.
Nothing had to be said. Strong arms wrapped around him in a warm embrace, as sturdy as if their grasp was the only thing keeping him present, here on this earth. Ichimatsu immediately choked up, tensing at the touch, before eventually easing into it, returning the gesture. He felt pathetic once again, quietly whimpering as he clung onto his younger brother, who cradled him like an upset child.
Gentle fingers ran through his unwashed oily hair, petting him sweetly. Soft yellow sleeves pawed gently at his tear-stained cheeks, wiping away the last of his tears. The gasping and heaving of his chest gave way to silent shudders, and after what felt like an eternity, Ichimatsu could breathe again. He breathed deeply, tentatively letting go of Jyushimatsu. Peeling himself away from his chest, he avoided meeting his gaze.
“Better?” His brother’s tone was kind, almost amused.
“Yeah,” Ichimatsu muttered.
His voice was scratchy, and his throat was hoarse from the crying, but other than that… he felt so much better. A weight had been lifted off of his chest, allowing him to breathe properly once more. He turned around to curl up in Jyushimatsu’s lap in an almost catlike manner, pulling his arms over his shoulders.
“Tell me what’s bothering you, niisan,” Jyushimatsu inquired, picking at some of the flowers around them.
Ichimatsu inhaled sharply.
“I just haven’t really been feeling well,” Ichimatsu responds, automatically.
It's an empty reply, and one that was hardly honest. He’d become too accustomed to shutting down any uncomfortable or unwanted conversation. Dismissing any concerns and avoiding all confrontations about his personal struggles was instinct.
Jyushimatsu knew his brother well, all too aware that Ichimatsu was downplaying things considerably. He paused, stopping his mindless picking at the flowers and grass around them.
”That’s not really the whole truth,” Jysuhimatsu began, less of a question, and more of a statement.
Ichimatsu sniffed in exasperation. He wasn't going to get away with any short answers here, was he?
Jyushimatsu could certainly be air-headed, a little naïve, occasionally oblivious. His mind worked differently than most, that was for sure. But he had a knack for understanding the feelings of others, and he paid attention when it mattered.
Considering how long Ichimatsu had been out of commission, and his emotional breakdown from just moments prior, Jyushimatsu knew that whatever was bothering his brother ran deeper than he wanted to admit. He also knew that Ichimatsu needed to talk to someone, or it would eat him alive from the inside.
Ichimatsu stared up at the now brilliant blue sky above them through still-bleary eyes. How can you describe to your own brother the feeling of waking up every morning wishing that you didn't exist? How does one admit to the desire to fade away, to disappear, or die?
He gazed back out into the open field that faced him, thinking. Ichimatsu's struggles with depression were no secret, but he was unsure if anyone was truly aware of the intensity of his anguish. More than once, he had contemplated suicide. Some days, he wondered why he was still here. Perhaps it was nothing other than his own cowardice.
The six brothers shared the same blood. The dark crimson that Ichimatsu had impassively watched trickle down the lacerations on his arms was indeed the same blood that coursed through Jyushimatsu’s own veins, pumping in and out of their beating hearts.
Despite their relation, all of them were completely different, and in countless ways. Ichimatsu and Jyushimagsu were no exception. This was especially evident when it came to their personalities, and respective desires. Jyushimatsu chose to enjoy his life, while Ichimatsu doubted whether he wanted to keep living at all.
Jyushimatsu waited patiently for his brother to respond.
“No, it's not.” Ichimatsu finally admitted.
Jyushimatsu would understand. He’d give him a small smile in acknowledgment, and accept his brother for who he was. He’d keep trying, and never stop caring, and always return to him, even after being pushed away. Ichimatsu knew this. The hardest part was being honest with himself and others. The second hardest part was saying it aloud in the first place.
“You aren’t okay, Ichimatsu-niisan.”
“I know,” He begins.
“...and I love you anyways.” Jyushimatsu finishes before he can continue.
Ichimatsu swallowed thickly, looking up to see Jyushimatsu’s hands expertly weaving together thick stems of fuchsia flowers and long blades of grass with a precision he’d never seen. He watched, entranced, as they braided and looped the segments tightly, going under and over repeatedly. It was unlike him.
He observed the process in awe, and thought to himself. It was a silly idea, but he couldn't help but wonder if Jyushimatsu might treat him the same way. Could he, too, be approached with this kind touch? Was it possible for all of the scattered pieces of him, lost in a mess of disarray, to be brought back together? He wondered if it was possible for someone as broken as himself to be so terrifically weaved into something new.
“I know,” He says at last, avoiding his brother’s eyes.
He stared back up at the sky. He was wary to meet his brother’s gaze, terrified that Jyushimatsu would see everything. He felt it bubbling up his chest, pulsing through his veins. His eyes would hide nothing now. He was all too aware of his own longing, tender feelings tied themselves into knots, wound tightly together in his core.
He wished he could swallow this lump of foreign feelings far down his throat. Locking them in a chest, shoving them all away into some dark corner to forget. It seemed so wrong for someone as ruined as he was to feel such things. Such terrible, beautiful things.
If only Jyushimatsu could truly ascertain how he really felt. If only he knew all of the freaky, jumbled mess of troublesome emotions Ichimatsu found that he had been harboring while he hid away from the rest of the world in their room. Things he realized he had been hiding from not only others, but himself.
If Jyushimatsu could see his eyes, he’d find all of the desperation, every despair and disdain. Every ugly and complicated feeling that he had harbored for years.
He would see that the only reason that Ichimatsu had kept on living was because didn't want to leave him. He couldn't abandon his brother. He couldn't run away from it all, because that would mean leaving behind the one thing left that mattered.
There’s a silence between them now, as Ichimatsu lay still, his back against his brother’s chest as he continued working on his little project. It was comfortable, if not a bit heavy. Despite the mix of emotions raging within him, Ichimatsu felt at peace. For once, he didn't suppress anything, allowing himself to feel it all.
It was just the two of them, just like it had often been as of late. How he dared to hope that it would always be. Just Ichimatsu and Jyushimatsu, together. He liked it that way.
‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.
Jyushimatsu snapped him out of his thoughts, placing something circular on his chest. Ichimatsu brings his hands up to cradle a delicately laced flower crown, made entirely of grass and sakurasou blossoms. He hesitates as he holds it carefully, staring at it dumbly, unsure of what to do.
“I made it for you!” Jyushimatsu exclaims, a joyful pride ringing clear in his voice.
Ichimatsu blinks.
“I also made a matching one for myself. Here, look!”
Ichimatsu slowly sits up, holding the crown close, and turns to face him. There, in Jyushimatsu’s dirt-covered hands, is a matching sakurasou flower crown, though a bit lopsided, as if it were more quickly and chaotically woven. Still, it's admittedly… rather cute.
Ichimatsu finally looks up to meet his brother's sunshine-bright gaze, and the little crown is gently taken from his hands, then placed promptly on his head. Jyushimatsu swiftly tosses his own crown up into the air, and it lands unevenly on top of him. He flashes Ichimatsu a bright grin, and laughs, causing the crown to slowly slide further down.
Ichimatsu can't help the grin that tugs at the corners of his lips at his brother's antics. He palms his cheek in amusement, tilting his head, and his own crown shifts in the nest of his messy hair.
Jyushimatsu settles, and he giggles, returning a small smile. They say nothing, holding each other's gaze in a comfortable silence. Jyushimatsu’s expression softens, and he leans slightly forward, regarding Ichimatsu with a contemplative look, a twinkle in his eyes. Jyushimatsu had this truly remarkable way of brightening up even the dullest of atmospheres.
Ichimatsu feels a tug at his heart. It almost aches, though it isn't that usual empty feeling. Something stirs in that abysmal pit of nothingness in the cavity of his chest. A tiny sparkle of life ignites into a small flame within him, like a candle in the dark.
Jyushimatsu always found a way to move him. He knew just how to help him to feel something more than his own misery. When all of Ichimatsu's world had dimmed to a lusterless grayscale, there was Jyushimatsu, restoring color to his reality.
For the second time today, Ichimatsu’s mask slips. He holds his brother’s gaze with a fondness that he had tried for so long to conceal. Feelings that he had fought so hard to keep hidden, everything that he had been certain that he would take to his grave, start to spill out from within, like a long-dead fountain sprung to life. It was clear now, and he knew. There was no hiding it, no running from it anymore. His affections are impossible to ignore. Now, the deepest, most sincere parts of Ichimatsu Matsuno were laid out plainly to see.
He loves Jyushimastu.
Though Jyushimatsu regards him warmly, his smile starts to falter. He seems nearly lost in thought. Ichimatsu sweats, with the awareness that he was being observed so attentively.
Jyushimatsu was, no doubt, the best at reading people, amongst the six brothers. Once, he had admitted to Ichimatsu, that he was the only one that he could never quite read clearly. With him, Jyushimatsu had explained, it was more so just… feeling. Almost as if he could sense his energy.
Ichimatsu thought back to that conversation from time to time. What a miserable aura he must have, to be radiating such darkness, that one might be able to feel it themselves. He had cursed himself, feeling rather unable to reign in all of his angst. Ichimatsu would never forgive himself if he let his own wretchedness obscure his brother’s shining light.
Back in the meadows, surrounded by the peaceful scenery of wildflowers and sunlight, they sit. Ichimatsu isn't hiding anymore. He could never regret being honest with Jyushimatsu, but still, he feels as if he has said both too much and too little. He’s not accustomed to feeling this exposed.
The silence stretches between them, and moments pass in slow-motion, each beat lasting a lifetime. Ichimatsu is the first to sever the eye-contact between them, feeling as if he'd lost a bet. They both stare off into the distance, watching as the clouds float onwards, disappearing into the horizon. Ichimatsu is nauseated as that sea of emotions relentlessly swirls within him.
Does Jyushimatsu feel it, too?
As the brothers grew into themselves, their respective personalities had changed and evolved. That familiar bond between Jyushimatsu and himself had long since surpassed what Ichimatsu thought he was capable of feeling. His affections had been blossoming into something much more.
Does Jyushimatsu know how deep his love ran? How far does his perception reach? Is it even possible that his affections might be returned? Ichimatsu is terrified to find out.
They had been a natural pair since the dawn of their existence, back when they both were merely two souls in limbo. They had shared excitement, joy, pain, misery, and everything else in between. Ichimatsu had carried this burden of flowering passions, tangled in with so much devastating doubt and fear, all wrapped up in his own little blanket of shame. It had devoured him from the inside out, and he had surrendered. He had given into the all-consuming flood of emotions and wished to drown. Not anymore.
Ichimatsu can't run now. His mask has fallen off completely, and he accepts it. Peace has eluded him for far too long, and he only has himself to blame for it. There's no going back. If he can't be honest with himself, or the person he cares about the most, there's no point in anything anymore. He can't keep living like this, and he knows it. Ichimatsu sits apprehensively alongside the person he loves, and braces himself for whatever is to come.
“Ichimatsu-niisan,” Jyushimatsu finally speaks.
Ichimatsu’s breath hitches in his throat.
“You don’t have to hide from me.”
His heart seems to stop at the words, and he vaguely registers Jyushimatsu shifting closer to him out of the corner of his eye.
“Please… Talk to me.”
Ichimatsu chews at his lip, fixating on his hands grasping at the grass beneath him, nails digging into the dirt. This is it.
“I… haven’t been feeling well,” He starts, wincing at the awkwardness of his own words. He looks over to Jyushimatsu, continuing in spite of the anxiety constricting his chest.
“Actually, I've been feeling pretty horrible. It’s just like there’s something eating me up from the inside, and I can't do anything to stop it. It really…fucking…sucks. It makes me want to die.”
He forces himself not to break eye contact. Jyushimatsu deserves to see him, to hear his answer, he's tried so hard to understand Ichimatsu. He owes his brother that much. Countless thoughts flood his mind, overwhelming him in the moment. He breathes deeply, and chooses his next words carefully.
“I just… feel like a burden, like I’m nothing but awful to everyone. I’m a disappointment, an inconvenience. I take so much and I give so little. It… hurts, to feel like I don't matter. But… then, when someone tries to help, I only feel worse. I don't deserve that effort, or patience, or time, or… anything. I feel miserable alone, and I feel miserable with others. I don't want people to waste their time on me. I’ll just make them miserable, too.”
Ichimatsu inhales deeply, catching his breath. His eyes sting. He tries his best not to shake. How pathetic he must seem.
“I want to die.”
Jyushimatsu blinks, his glassy eyes reflecting the sunlight above them.
Ichimatsu trembles, his voice cracking.
“I just want to die so badly. But something’s stopping me. I’m scared. Maybe I'm a coward. I don't want to think about how people will remember me. What a waste of life…”
His eyes start to water again. He feels helpless, like a small, frightened child.
“I hate this. I just…don't know what to do anymore. I just want this all to end.”
He stops himself, choking back the tears that threaten to spill once more. He’s finally admitted it. There was so much left unsaid, but for now, it was enough. Even if he never spoke of this again, it’s a huge relief to get this awful weight off of his chest.
Jyushimatsu will understand. Ichimatsu knows that he will. He loves him far more than he ever could himself. He owes him this honesty, he deserves to witness this vulnerability, even if it hurts.
“Niisan!”
Jyushimatsu’s brows furrow in concern as he shouts, tugging at his brother’s hands from their fierce grip on the ground. He grasps them tightly, holding onto them as if he were terrified that Ichimatsu would disappear right then and there if he didn't.
Ichimatsu stares back, eyes wide.
Though he relaxes his expression, he looks at Ichimatsu with such an intensity that it frightens him.
“I know it hurts. It really does,” he says, quieter.
“Everything that you’ve been feeling hurts a lot. But this will pass. This pain won't last forever, I promise. You're stronger than you think, Niisan. And you’re not a burden, you're just in a rough spot right now. It happens to all of us. And you deserve just as much as anyone else, just as much I do! You deserve to be helped when you need it, you deserve to be taken care of. Let us help you, Niisan.”
Jyushimatsu takes a breath, tightening his grip on their interlocked hands.
“Let me help you.”
Ichimatsu freezes.
Jyushimatsu’s eyes begin to water.
“Please… I don’t want to exist somewhere you’re not. I couldn't take it.”
He shakes his head.
“We’re a team, you and me! Ichimatsu-Niisan, you're my brother, my other half, my-” He falls silent.
Ichimatsu stares at him dumbly. He swears his heart stops beating.
Jyushimatsu looks down, but continues.
“Right now, we're both on this earth together. I can't imagine a world without you here with me. You’ve always been in my life, and I want things to stay like that, even if it’s only for a brief moment in time.”
His voice breaks, but he stares back at Ichimatsu with a scolding look.
Ichimatsu has never seen him this serious.
“Maybe your world would move on if you died, but not mine. I’d still be here. Every day, missing you.”
Jyushimatsu is fully crying now, there's no trace of that bright smile he’d had before.
“...Please.”
Fat tears fall down his face. He’s pleading now.
“Keep living… Stay here, with me… and I will follow you wherever you go, Niisan. I promise.”
Though he isn't as much of a wreck as Ichimatsu had been earlier, his tears are genuine, heartfelt, and they seem to pour out endlessly. Droplets fall onto their intertwined hands like rain.
It all hits Ichimatsu at once.
…These weren't just words of consolation. This wasn't the only thing to say to comfort someone who just admitted to being suicidal.
This was a confession.
Just like his own had been.
Ichimatsu frees his hands from their death grip and grabs Jyushimatsu’s shoulders, forcing him to meet his eyes with his own tearful gaze. His arms shake as they grip him with force. He stares into Jyushimatsu’s eyes with disbelief. Once again, he dares to hope.
Are you saying what I think you're saying?
Ichimatsu swallows.
“Do you really mean that?”
“Yes,” Jyushimatsu’s answer is instantaneous.
“I do.”
Ichimatsu grabs his face, colliding the two together, their heads gently knocking. Closing his eyes, he feels Jyushimatsu attempt to regain his balance, and ease into the kiss. Cupping Jyushimatsu’s face, his hands travel down his shoulders, then rest at his waist, feeling most comfortable there. Jyushimatsu’s arms wrap fiercely around his shoulders in response, before deepening the kiss. He pulls the two of them closer together, and they melt into a mess of passionate touches.
They break it up unevenly, their kisses chaste and sweet. Years of pent up longing and desire overflow, being poured into these intimate kisses. Everything that Ichimatsu had struggled to communicate, all of the things left unsaid, Jyushimatsu felt it all. He could feel Jyushimatsu’s sticky, tear-stained cheeks, leaving a taste of salt on his own lips. Ichimatsu realizes that neither of them have stopped crying.
They only stop when there is no more air left between them. Simultaneously, they collapse into one another on the ground, their flower crowns now disheveled and slightly unraveled.
Jyushimatsu is breathing heavily, panting in an almost puppy-like manner from the loss of oxygen from their shared first kiss. Ichimatsu is still trembling, coming down from the high of the unusually intense spectrum of emotions he had felt today. All of the feelings that he had just expressed to his brother, everything he had been terrified to admit, even to himself, were accepted for what they were. Despite his anxiety, he’s overcome with relief. A small smile forms on his face, and though his cheeks are sore from disuse, the ache is worth it.
They sit like that for a few moments, catching their breath and processing everything that had occurred between them. Ichimatsu almost feels like he can slip into a comfortable sleep here, when Jyushimatsu suddenly leaps up, leaning over him.
“Ichimatsu-niisan, let’s go to the bath house!”
Jyushimatsu hovers over his face, grinning through drying tears, and plants a small kiss on his forehead. Ichimatsu sniffs, blinking his puffy eyes, and takes his hand. He’s pulled up into strong arms, and automatically leans into the touch. Without a word, the two leave the blossoming field behind them, their matching flower crowns left behind.
Walking into town in just his pajamas felt odd, but strangely enough, Ichimatsu doesn't feel overcome by the normal shame and embarrassment he had become accustomed to. The pair head home, thankful to be the only ones there at the moment. They each grab a change of clothes and their shared bottles of shampoo and conditioner before making their way towards the bath house. Ichimatsu tugs at Jyushimatsu’s sleeve with his free hand, and they hold hands all the way there.
Once they arrive, they take off their clothes and pad side by side into the steamy room. They fall easily into their usual idle and familiar chatter. Jyushimatsu comments about how Ichimatsu should eat more, and though he jabs back, saying that his brother needs to mind his own business, he knows in his heart that he means well.
Ichimatsu sits down on the stool for the first time in weeks. He tiredly rinses his hair, massaging the shampoo into the tangled mess. His hair is stripped of all the oil and dirt that had built up the past few weeks, and he sighs contentedly. The weight on his shoulders carrying all of his shame and disgust at himself gets lighter and lighter. Savoring the relaxing sensation, he idly runs the silky conditioner through his scalp.
Jyushimatsu interrupts his thoughts, soapy hands coming up from behind him to gently scrub at his back. Ichimatsu feels the tips of his ears heat up as small kisses are left on his shoulder blades and neck, reminders of their conversation from the field earlier that day. It still doesn't feel real. They finish cleaning up and rinse off, leaving to soak afterwards.
As the two sit in the large communal tub, alone where no one would see them, Ichimatsu reaches his arm around Jyushimatsu, bringing him in close. He nuzzles happily into the touch. Ichimatsu sighs contentedly. He can't remember the last time he's felt so refreshed.
Maybe this whole mess might happen again. Maybe he’d never be completely okay. But Jyushimatsu gave him hope. For now, he was happy just to live in this moment, where the bath house steam rose lazily to the ceiling, and Jyushimatsu’s radiant warmth enveloped his entire being. Maybe… just maybe, it was worth living for.