Chapter Text
As darkness settled over the day, a streetlight switched on. It quietly hummed with energy as it lit the path down below it, unaware that a cicada was perched on it. The cicada clung to the post, singing its song to no one. Normally such sounds went unnoticed at this time, as right beside the streetlight was a home. Not just any home. The home belonged to the Matsuno family.
Normally the home was bursting with sounds of life as six grown men and their parents occupied the small space, filling the night air with the sounds of their laughter, their arguing, and other loud noises until they either went to bed, or were silenced by the (even louder) screaming of their mother for them to “be quiet!”
Not this night though. This night only one person was there; Matsuno Karamatsu. He was seated at their living room table, wearing his trademark blue hoodie. His parents had gone away on a two-day vacation, leaving him and his brothers with some money to take care of themselves. Said brothers had gone without him to Chibita’s stand for some Oden.
That wasn’t to say that Karamatsu had been abandoned. No, rather he had been the one to insist that they leave without him. “Alas I cannot take part in our time old tradition of dining and dashing at Chibita’s,” he had told them. “For you see my dear bruzza’s…I am not feeling well.”
“Are you sure? You seem fine,” Osomatsu had said. “I mean, you’re still talking in that painful way.”
“Let’s just leave him,” Ichimatsu had said, glaring at Karamatsu with as much venom as he could. “I could use a break from his shittiness.”
And thus, after some insistence from Karamatsu that he would be fine, that he just needed some rest, all of his brothers had left.
He sighed as his heart ached. He hated lying to his brothers. The truth was Karamatsu’s stomach was fine. He could have gone with them and eaten oden with them, could have joked and talked with them, could have had a conversation with Chibita, and could have run away with his brothers all the way home like they did most nights, once again not paying their tab.
He could have done that, but the reason he didn’t was because of the item in his hand. There, clenched in his right hand, was a bottle of sleeping pills. These weren’t pills he had gotten from a doctor or pharmacy, but rather from their old family friend, Dekapan.
He had gone to his lab earlier in the day, right after Ichimatsu read the note their parents had left, explaining about their trip. “Take one at night and this should help you with your sleeping,” he had told Karamatsu.
‘I’m sorry, Dekapan,’ Karamatsu thought. He had told the older man that he had been having trouble sleeping. He had told him that he had gone to a doctor, but couldn’t afford the sleeping pills the doctor had recommended.
It had all been lies. In truth, Karamatsu hadn’t gone to a doctor. He didn’t need to because he had been sleeping fine without them. Dekapan didn’t know this though, and hadn’t even questioned him. Instead, he gave him the bottle and gave him instructions on how to take them.
Perhaps the old man was naive, or perhaps it was because he had known Karamatsu since he was a little boy, but Dekapan trusted him on his words alone. It touched Karamatsu’s heart in a way that had him wishing he had taken the time to spend more time with the older man, gotten to know him better.
Well, now wasn’t the time for wishes or regrets.
He twisted the cap open and looked inside. A bunch of white, round pills sat in there. According to Dekapan, there was enough to last a month, if they were taken in the way he instructed. He placed the edge of the bottle against his lips and jerked his head back. Instantly the pills feel into his open mouth. He waited a few seconds before he pulled it away.
He grabbed the glass of water he had set aside for this. Before he could think about it, he took half of it into his mouth and swallowed. The cold liquid easily went down his throat, bringing the pills along with it. ‘There. It’s done,’ he thought as he finished off the rest of the water.
He looked inside the bottle. He had taken a majority of them, leaving only a few behind. Would that be ok? Should he have taken them all? He wasn’t sure. He hadn’t exactly researched this before attempting it. ‘It’s fine,’ he told himself. ‘It’ll work. I just need to wait.’
He twisted the cap back on and shoved the bottle in the pocket of his hoodie. He looked at the glass. Should he wash it? It would be one last thing his family would have to worry about, but what if the pills kicked in and he collapsed on his way there? He might fall on the glass and cut himself, leaving blood everywhere. He didn’t want that. Not only would they have to clean it up, but he was sure it would be a horrible sight for them.
At least this way his brothers would just come home and see him slumped over. They would probably think he fell asleep waiting for them. Maybe they’d try to wake him up, but once he didn’t, they would just think he was passed out and would go to bed themselves, leaving his body behind. By morning they would realize something was wrong when he still wouldn’t wake up, but by then it would be too late.
Was he being selfish by killing himself this way? He had thought about other methods that involved him doing it outside of the home, but those methods usually ended in a bloody mess that would require strangers to take time out of their day to clean up. He didn’t want to burden anyone with his death.
That’s why he had chosen the pills after all; they would be quick and effective. At least he hoped so. He hoped it would be just like sleeping, except this time he wouldn’t wake up. Just like all those nights he prayed would happen, only to be bitterly disappointed when he opened his eyes the next morning.
He also hoped they kicked in soon. He didn’t want his brothers to arrive home and suddenly see him collapse. That would just scare them. He didn’t want that for them. Plus, seeing their faces would just make this hard.
‘Speaking of,’ he thought. ‘I should look the note over again.’
He looked down at the note on the table. The one he had written just before he took the pills. He had already read it five times, making sure the language he tried to convey on there was clear, leaving no room for misunderstandings. ‘Once more can’t hurt.’
In the note, he expressed how none of his brothers had driven him to this moment. It hadn’t been any of their faults. Nor had it been the fault of their parents, neighbors, friends, or even strangers. The fault lay with no one except for Karamatsu.
For years now, he felt this pain inside of himself. A pain that made him hate himself with every inch of his being. He had felt this pain back when they were in school. He had tried to chase the pain away by changing who he was; going from a shy, awkward mess to the cool, confident guy he tried so hard to be. That hadn’t helped, so he instead tried to chase it away by filling his days with as much fun as he could with his brothers. He thought if he focused on their wacky adventures, focused on playing with them, focused on their needs instead of his own pain, then everything would be ok.
It hadn’t worked. Sure, the days were fun and he loved every second of it, but the pain had still been there, eating away at him from the inside until all that remained was a hollow shell of a man. He just couldn’t take it anymore.
He had tried to keep the note simple, using only basic kanji and none of the usual flair he loved to speak in. His brothers would no doubt be shocked, but the flair had been fake after all. Just an extra layer he added to try and seem confident. There was no need for that here.
He had left out the part on how none of this had been planned. Well, in a sense: He had been thinking about killing himself, and how he would do it, but it wasn’t like he had woken up earlier and went, ‘today is the day.’ He had been planning on spending it like any other normal day, until he had found out his parents had left for a trip.
He didn’t want them to think it was their fault. That if they had stayed he would still be around. He would rather they think he had been planning this for a long time, and would have done so with or without them there.
“It’s perfect,” he said, smiling lightly. The note was short, simple, and left no room for argument. Just like he wanted. Surely anyone that read this would understand his motive and would find peace with it, just like he was going to.
He yawned. Oh! This was it! The pills were finally kicking in. Should he stay near the table? Or would it be better i–
His vision swam. He blinked as he realized he wasn’t sitting up, but was instead on his side. Had he fallen? He hadn’t felt his body move. Actually, he couldn’t feel his body. He felt so light. Like he was on a cloud. He shivered. Why did he feel so cold?
“I’m dying,” someone said. No wait. That was him. Did he say that out loud? It was hard to tell. His voice sounded so light and slurred.
Before he had taken the pills, a small part of him had been worried that in the middle of dying, he would regret it. He would suddenly get the drive to live. He would cry and scream about how he was sorry, about how he wanted another chance, but he felt none of that.
He was dying, but he felt no regret or fear. He didn’t even feel relief. All he felt filling his body and soul, was acceptance. This was what he had chosen. This is the path his choices had lead him, and he was fine with it.
As he closed his eyes, he thought he could hear the faint singing of a cicada. His lips curled into a small smile as he released one final breath of air.
“AH!”
Ichimatsu paused. He had just arrived home with his brothers, all of them stuffed on oden and reeling from adrenaline as they had (again) successfully ditched without paying, when Jyushimatsu suddenly let out a cry. He turned towards his younger brother. “What’s wrong?” He mumbled.
Jyushimatsu stood underneath the streetlamp outside their home, but he wasn’t looking at Ichimatsu. He was instead staring at something on the ground.
“What’s wrong, Jyushimatsu-nii-san?” Todomatsu asked. By now the others had stopped and were looking at the fourth born as well.
“A cicada fell on my head!” He pointed his sleeve-covered finger at the ground.
Ichimatsu walked over and looked down. Sure enough, there was a cicada lying there on its back. “It’s dead.”
“What?! Ew! Gross!” Todomatsu screamed, jumping back as if the thing was radioactive.
“Aww, poor little guy,” Jyushimatsu squatted down, ignoring Todomatsu’s cry of, ‘don’t get near it!’ “Dying all alone. Do you think he had a family?”
“Jyushimatsu, don’t be ridiculous," Choromatsu sighed, rolling his eyes. “It’s just a bug. No one cares about it.”
Jyushimatsu shook his head. “Nu uh! It has a family. I can tell. And they’re sad he’s gone.”
“Oh yeah?” Osomatsu walked over to them. “Did he have a wife and kids, Jyushimatsu?”
“No. He had brothers.”
Ichimatsu was never sure where Jyushimatsu came up with some of the things he said, or even why. But, he had also learned to not question it and to let him just be. “It’s ok, Jyushimatsu,” he said, placing his hand on his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go inside before it gets too cold out. You can tell Shittymatsu all about it.” He was sure the stupid, pathetic second eldest would say some stupid, shitty poetic thing about the bug and its life. It would be annoying, but perhaps it would cheer Jyushimatsu up.
“Yeah!” Jyushimatsu jumped up, smiling from ear to ear. “I’ll tell Karamatsu all about it, and what he missed at the cart!”
“You can do that at the bathhouse!” Todomatsu huffed. “I’m not letting you in the futon after that bug fell on you. Who knows what diseases it has!”
“Ooo~ Watch out, Totty~” Osomatsu sang, stepping closer to the youngest. “Jyushimatsu might touch you and infect you~”
“Stop it, Osomatsu-nii-san!”
“Both of you stop it!” Choromatsu hissed through clenched teeth. “Do I need to remind you that we’re still outside and it's nighttime? Our neighbors are trying to sleep!”
“Calm down, Flappypmastu,” Osomatsu said, turning back towards him. “I’m sure they’re used to our noises.”
“DON’T CALL ME THAT!”
The two continued to argue as they walked inside the home. Jyushimatsu and Ichimatsu laughed about some inside joke as Todomatsu called out, “we’re home!”
In just a few seconds, the five grown men had filled the once quiet home with the familiar, lively energy they were used to, unaware that one quiet voice still lingered.