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Chapter Text

~☽◯☾~

“Eh?”

Jyushimatsu finds himself in a dark void. The ground is cold and rough like concrete, yet colorless and featureless, smooth, solid black. A vast space with no source of light, yet so utterly bright. He feels weightless, asleep, but tethered to the sensation of this place.

Where is he?

He begins to walk, towards what he isn’t sure, but he hears the rustling of leaves and clinking of trash somewhere, just out of his perception. He’s had bad dreams for a while, but this takes the cake for being the most boring and weird so far…

“You.”

“Ooup–!” He skids to a stop, looking over his shoulder to the source of the voice. It’s a dog– or rather, a wolf.

The wolf has solid dark brown eyes and golden fur, dense and beautiful in its wonderful wildness. It sits motionlessly, staring at him through its nearly elegant poise.

“Hiya, doggy,” Jyushimatsu turns to smile. “Are you lost in this place too–?”

“I’ve been lost for a while.”

Huh… That’s his voice. Neat. Maybe some metaphor is happening here.

“You won’t be lost for long, no worries. We’ll get out of here together, right?”

The black void’s soundscape sounds more familiar now– rustling of thin trees and the gentle path of water.

“No. We won’t.”

Jyushimatsu scratches his head at the tone in the golden wolf’s voice. “Why’s that?”

Jyushimatsu attempts to walk up to the creature, but the wolf never seems to get closer.

“Because I despise you.”

It’s so weird hearing his own voice tell him he hates him… Jyushimatsu sighs, giving up trying to make contact with the dream wolf and sits down on the weird floor. It feels like grass, despite there not being any.

“That’s not fair. I haven’t done anything!” Jyushi shrugs.

“Exactly. You’re wasting it.”

“Wh–?”

“Wasting. It.”

Jyushimatsu stares in silence, fidgeting with the sleeves of his hoodie, thinking. Dreams typically have meaning.

“What are you trying to tell me?”

“I’ve been behind your eyes. Wasting away. Rotting away.”

The golden wolf is still unmoving, and despite the sensation of wind, its fur doesn’t flitter a centimeter. Jyushimatsu shifts uncomfortably.

“Not anymore, daywalker.”

That’s an interesting term. Who can’t walk during the day? Vampires? Bats? Ohh… That’s probably why vampires can’t go in the sun–

“Focus.”

The wolf’s voice cuts through Jyushimatsu’s thoughts invasively, violently, like someone grabbing you by the arm and tugging you aside. He shudders at the sensation, startled by the strength of it. He gasps and shivers. The void feels so small now.

“Witness my freedom.  I want the wind in our fur, and the dirt under our feet.”

Okay, this is a nightmare unlike any other he’s experienced. He’s lucid, though. He should stop letting his unconscious brain bully him. Jyushimatsu squeezes his eyes shut and puts his hands on his head, tongue sticking out as he focuses.

“You cannot escape me. Not anymore. Please, open your eyes. See my freedom. Our freedom. Don’t you want this?”

Want what? What is this wolf talking about? His life is pretty great.

“Lalala~ not listening!” Jyushimatsu thinks about baseball games, horse racing, and a dolphin show for whatever reason. All swirling in his head, but he’s unable to grasp it– visualize it.

“I can make us strong. We are powerful.”

“I don’t care about that, dumb dog! Just wake me up, already!” Jyushimatsu’s patience is growing thin, feeling increasingly paranoid and stressed. Some terrible feeling is in his gut. The sound of water is louder, echoey in his ears. 

“You are awake.”

That comment gives Jyushimatsu pause. He opens his eyes and stares at the golden wolf again. “What?” He shouldn’t believe this figment of his unconscious brain, but it resonates with him. It feels unequivocally true. His hands suddenly feel wet, and he feels so sick, so full.

“Don’t you remember? You went outside.”

Yes, he did go outside for some fresh air. He was having trouble sleeping… He hurt a lot.

It hurt so much… What hurt? Why did he go outside? Right. The wolf bite on his leg was stinging, agitated, and in pain. The botched camping trip briskly shuffles through his head, vague and uninteresting as it drowns in the context of now.

He mumbled some excuse about needing to go to the restroom to a puzzled and concerned Choromatsu. Bleary-eyed and still heavy with sleep as he stumbled out of the bedroom, some thought in his head praying that he wouldn’t wake the others.

The texture of the carpet grazing his feet, then the rough feeling of the pavement outside their home. But that’s as far back as the memory goes.

Now he is here with this wolf.

“I did. I did go outside…” Huh.

“Why?”

The wolf asks.

“Because I was hungry,” Jyushimatsu says without any effort, slipping off his tongue as if to complete the wolf’s next sentence. His eyes widened in horror, standing in his panic. 

He was trying to stop something. Some pain, some scream, some desire that swelled and bubbled in his stomach before erupting through his skin in a wild, vicious fury.

“Wake me up!” Jyushimatsu demands, stepping toward the beast.

“We. are. awake.”

“ No–! I want out of here! Let me out!” Jyushi hollers, yelling with his chest. The sound of growls echoes off the walls.

“What have you done–?” comes out as a sob, his mouth feeling slick and wet, something dribbling down his jaw.

“The sun is beginning to rise, daywalker.”

Jyushimatsu keels over, shivering as he curls around himself. Covering his face with his hands only spreads the sticky, wet slickness across his features. It reeks. Reeks of blood, iron. It’s up to his elbows, splattered on his chest. His bones feel fresh and new in a terrible, haunting ache. 

“You are free, but the new moon is mine. ”

What?

The golden wolf is gone.

What?

He’s not hungry anymore.

~ ⏾ ~

There’s the sound of rain.

The darkness fades into a dimly lit, trash-strewn underpass. Beneath a concrete bridge, the only light comes from distant streetlamps lining the elevated grassy sidewalks that frame the sleepy river. His body lies cold against the pavement, cheek pressed into soggy, blood-soaked cardboard. The stink of death, rain, and river water clings to the air, clashing with the metallic tang of iron. The monotonous sound of dense liquid dripping, so quiet and yet so loud.

Jyushimatsu’s breathing is shallow and incomplete, something within him off-kilter and wrong. His heart pounds in his chest, the beating loud in his ears as the wheezy puffs of breath manage to escape his sore throat. 

He tries to lift himself from the floor, but his limbs ache, like his bones are grinding against each other. The wetness against his skin is thick and clinging to the ground. He doesn’t need to look to know what it is. But he does anyway. 

Jyushimatsu only meant to raise his head to see the state of his body, nearly bare, his sleeping pants torn and barely clinging to his waist. His arms trembled as he pushed himself up from the sticky floor, fingers sinking slightly into something warm and wet.

But in his swimming vision, he saw it. 

Mangled remains were sprawled before him, the carcass’ legs twisted at unnatural angles in purple trousers, pale torso split open like a gutted fish. Ribs jutted through shredded flesh, and coils of intestine spilled out in glistening ropes, half-draped over the floor. 

Chunks of meat were strewn across the damp concrete beneath the bridge, mingling with the wreckage of a collapsed shelter. The structure, little more than a haphazard hut of tarp and scavenged wood, had been smashed apart in the struggle, its flimsy walls now splintered and trampled. A stained blanket, half-buried under the carnage, fluttered weakly in the cold draft that swept through the underpass.

Jyushimatsu’s stomach churned at the memory of warm flesh tearing between his teeth. His stomach hurts.

His fingers clenched into fists, trembling painfully as he continued to stare. Then, abruptly, his hands flew to his mouth, fingers brushing against the dried blood crusted on his lips. He gagged, throat convulsing as dark brown hair caught in his teeth. With a wet choke, he pulled a few strands from the depths of his throat and lurched away from the corpse of Iyami. 

No. No…

He’s going to puke. He needs to puke. This is still some terrible nightmare.

Tears swell in Jyushi’s eyes as he slowly crawls on his hands and knees toward the running water. “ S-save me… Someone save me ,” he husks past his lips, dragging himself closer to the concrete edge.

He wants to go home. He wants to be with his brothers. He wants to be lying in bed beside Choromatsu.

“Oh G-God—“ Jyushi’s body jerks forward as bile forces its way up his throat, spewing gore onto the ground with a wet splat. He’ll be in bed soon. He’s home. He’s safe. He’ll have breakfast with his brothers any second now, soon mom will cut them fruit slices. 

Tears streak down his cheeks, clearing paths through the crusted blood and dirt. He forces himself to keep crawling toward the water, muffled and fading shouts repeating in his mind.

Iyami was so delicate in his hands. His fist had enveloped the man’s skull. His claws caged his torso. Light. Meek. The memory pulses through him with dizzying clarity. The wet snap of bone, the slick, delicious warmth, the bubbly squelch of tumbling brain matter.

Jyushimatsu’s fingers dig into the concrete edge as he heaves into the flowing water below. He needs him out. He never seems to end– sinew and strips of muscle plop into the river, swirling away in the current. A ripped eyeball bumps against his teeth before tumbling from his mouth with a coat of saliva, bobbing downstream in the red stained water.

Jyushimatsu collapses onto his side once more, paralyzed at the thought that he might die. The peachy hues of dawn creep closer as the sun peeks through the drizzling clouds, its light unwelcome. His arm dangles over the edge, fingers grazing the cool water as he stares blankly across the river, the full weight of his exhaustion pressing down on him. The blurry darkness encroaches, swallowing him whole as he chokes on whatever is left in his mouth. He doesn’t even recognize that he passes out.

…

The next sensation he experiences is a shriek of terror. 

Some poor passerby on their morning walk catches a glimpse of the crime scene– high-pitched and annoying as it cuts through the blissful, sweet ignorance of unconsciousness. It failed to stir his  spent brain any more awake than recognizing the muffled sounds of unintelligible commands and shoe soles on pavement. There’s the weightlessness of being lifted and the jostle of the paramedic spineboard. The curious gasps and rumors of onlookers, distant crow of birds. 

It’s silent again until he registers the feeling of a wet sponge against his skin and the crinkly texture of a hospital gown. Everything feels and smells sanitized, the unnatural bright glow of the fluorescent lights finally beating through his eyelids. He doesn’t want to be awake yet.

He slowly opens his eyes and is greeted with the white of a hospital ceiling. A dull ache pulses behind his eyes, his skull feeling as if it was stuffed with cotton. 

There are people in the room, a lot of people. Five familiar colors diffusing against the white room walls in his peripheral vision. A warm hand holds his forearm, a thumb rubbing soothingly up and down in idle affection against his skin. He can’t see her, but Jyushimatsu knows it’s his mother. The beep of a heart monitor chirps in the background, he’s still here, still alive. And Iyami isn’t.

Iyami… The heart monitor’s beat spikes in repetition and Jyushimatsu jolts upright, ready to vault out of bed, “ IYAMI! “ He shouts, startling and alerting his family, his brothers, his mother. Hands immediately reach for him, gently pressing against his shoulders, his chest, trying to guide him back onto the mattress. 

"Easy, easy–!"

“ Breathe, brother! “ 

"Jyushimatsu!"

" Jyushi– "

“Y-You’re safe, Jyushimatsu-niisan!”

Their voices overlap, energized with panic, but all he can hear is the phantom crunch of bone beneath his fists, the wet pop of the other eye bursting between his molars. " I-Iyami– " Jyushimatsu gasps again, voice cracking. His fingers claw at the hospital sheets, twisting them into his palms.

The door swings open and Matsuzo rushes to the bedside at the sight of his conscious son. Through the blabbering of his family’s voices and their anxious shuffling, Jyushimatsu spots a cop lingering in the doorway. He and his father must have been talking.

He can’t really understand the words being spoken to him right now, he can just hear his heartbeat thudding in his head again. Someone shut that damn heart monitor up!

“ O-Oh, my Jyushimatsu…! ” Matsuyo sobs, wrapping her arms around her second littlest. 

Jyushimatsu exhales shakily as his mother’s tears fall onto his neck and shoulder. Squeezing his eyes shut, Jyushimatsu holds her in kind.

Fragmented memories flash behind his eyelids, and with an overwhelmed whimper, he buries his face in the crook of her neck. A fresh wave of tears slipped down Jyushimatsu’s cheeks, his nose clogged with snot. Only then did he take a moment to look around the room at his brothers, each one standing there without a single clue what to say. He’s so happy to see their faces. 

Once he calmed, his father pulled him into a hug, his brothers quickly following. Their arms were smothering, tight, heavy. A weight he couldn’t shake. In a moment that should have comforted him, all he could think about was the raw power he had felt, the terrifying freedom that came with it. The memory left him feeling hollow even as they held him close.

He bitterly dispels the memories, sickened by the reminder of the golden wolf. 

Everyone is still looking at him– nervous, curious, their eyes wet with tears. Their gazes are different now, full of concern and fear. Not fear of him, but fear for him. Pitying. Uneasy. Muttered apologies and sorrows. If they knew he had killed Iyami, if they knew how easily he had torn someone apart, there would be more than just one police officer here.

It only occurs to Jyushimatsu now how he must have looked when they found him. He was unconscious beside the mauled corpse of a friend, coated in blood, abandoned beneath a bridge in nothing but torn rags. 

They don’t know he’s the killer. 

They see him as a victim of some terrible, terrible crime. 

He’s just a NEET. No accomplishments, no resources, no motive. Who in their right mind would entertain the idea that he could rip a ribcage open with his bare hands, shatter sternum and spine. 

“ Let's give him space, c’mon… ” Choromatsu urges, gently guiding the family back. There’s a brief hesitation, with hands lingering and eyes darting before they relent, stepping away. Only Matsuyo remains, her grip on his arm not budging. Jyushimatsu stares blankly at her face.

His attention is brought back to his brothers when Osomatsu opens his mouth. “ Uh… Do… you remember anything that–?” Ichimatsu’s hand snaps out, fingers digging harshly into the fabric of Osomatsu’s red hoodie. “ Not the time, ” he hisses in a low, warning tone. 

 It flashes clearly in Jyushimatsu’s head. A sharp pain blossoms through his skull, and he groans, doubling over towards his mom again. Her fingers start to card through his sweat-damp hair, “ There, there… “  

The room stiffens. He watches the way Osomatsu crosses his arms and how Choromatsu shuffles closer to their mother. Karamatsu twitches as if aching to reach towards someone. And Todomatsu won’t meet anyone's eyes, nervously fidgeting against the wall. 

Jyushimatsu realizes he should probably say something, he completely forgot he could talk.

"Th–" Jyushimatsu chokes, jolting away from his mother’s petting. For one terrible second, he thought he was going to vomit again. 

“Someone get him some damn water!” Matzuyo shouts over his shoulder at a passing nurse.

 “ Th-thanks ,” he rasps between breaths, tears still streaming. “For… for being here. For– ” But his words dissolve into sobs. Why even bother to speak.

Through his guilt, he continues. “ I’m sorry ,” I’m sorry Iyami, “ I– I don’t remember, I’m sorry- ” He wishes that was true. What happens if he tells them? Will they even believe him? His eyes flicker to Ichimatsu through his tears, even he wouldn’t understand. 

Ichimatsu is quick to his side, " You– You didn't do anything wrong, Jyushimatsu," he says as if to remind him. Karamatsu steps forward in tandem, the metal bed frame rattling as he grips it. " No, no, no – it's okay, don’t apologize, Jyushimatsu!" he insists, voice cracking under the weight of forced cheer. If any of his other brothers have something similar to say, they keep it to themselves.  

The cop clears his throat from the doorway, drawing everyone’s attention. “We’ll need to ask him some questions later in private,” he says, voice carefully neutral. “Just routine, given the circumstances.” 

A doctor stands beside the police officer, clipboard in hand as she gestures towards Matsuyo and Matsuzo to join them in discussion.

Circumstances.

Jyushimatsu’s stomach twists. What circumstances do they think happened? That Iyami attacked him? That some other monster did this and left him there? All the questions he has are making him lightheaded.

His parents stepped outside to speak with the officer and doctor in hushed tones. Jyushimatsu caught fragments of the conversation as his brothers also pretended not to listen. Pacing, sitting, all fidgeting in the corner of his eyes as he stares at the ceiling again. 

…likely…trauma… memory loss… give him time …

…tests back…

…no physical… no evidence of…

His chest tightens. They’re making excuses for him.

What is his story, what is he going to say!? He should probably figure out what they think happened– buy himself more time to decide what to do, to figure out what's going on and become normal again. Ugh. But he’s not smart enough for this! 

Time passes in uneasy quiet and frigid small talk. 

Jyushimatsu lies curled up in the hospital bed, hugging his yellow hoodie that Karamatsu had rushed out to retrieve for him when he asked earlier. The smell is just as familiar and comforting as he hoped. The soft fabric of normalcy grounds him as he presses it to his face, but when he tries to curl tighter into himself, his body protests. The mattress shifts uncomfortably beneath him, and the hollow ache in his stomach only makes the scattered memories flash brighter.

A nurse silently enters and sets a paper cup of water on the bedside table. As she leaves, Todomatsu mutters about how she took too long, earning a grunt of agreement from Osomatsu and Ichimatsu.

Choromatsu stands closest to the door, undoubtedly catching the most details as he eavesdrops. His foot bounces anxiously while he stares at the ground, stress radiating off him. Right. Choromatsu was the last person he spoke to before blacking out. His older brother must be blaming himself somehow.

"Come here," Jyushimatsu calls to Choromatsu, his voice stronger than he expected. His brothers all look up at the sudden request. He's not sure where this confidence came from, but Choromatsu doesn't need to hear whatever they're saying about him out there.

Choromatsu points to himself questioningly, and at Jyushimatsu's nod, he stiffly walks over. "Yes?" he asks, though his eyes keep darting back toward the door where the hushed conversation continues.

Jyushimatsu’s fingers worry at the fraying hem of the hospital blanket, restless against the thin fabric. " Don't... be so far away. Please. " Jyushimatsu looks away as he struggles to fight back another wave of tears.

“. . . “ Choromatsu walks back over to his abandoned seat and drags his chair from the far wall, scraping loudly against the floor before he lifts it into his arms and plants it right beside Jyushi’s bed. More chairs soon scrape and thud as his other brothers replicate the idea, all five of them sitting at his side. 

For a fragile moment, everything felt normal. 

…

The fluorescent lights hum overhead, their faint buzzing blending with the muffled voices seeping through the doorway. The authorities, no doubt, their low murmurs filling the silence. Osomatsu clears his throat, then immediately regrets it, the sound is too loud, too abrupt. Choromatsu scratches at the back of his neck, gaze fixed on the scuffed floor.

This sucks. 

Jyushimatsu loves his brothers, but right now as reality slowly sinks in for him, he wishes he were alone. Or at least that they weren’t all here, maybe one brother present at a time. Not while an investigation looms over him.The more he thinks about it, the more shame coils in his gut. 

What are they thinking? What do they think of me now?

Karamatsu anxiously shuffles his feet, the squeak of his shoes making Ichimatsu twitch. Todomatsu sighs through his nose, he instinctively went to check his phone but stopped himself just before it left his pocket.

Jyushimatsu continues to stew in his thoughts. It doesn’t really matter what they think happened to him…He’s dangerous. They shouldn’t be around him until he can fix this. He stresses his lower lip at the idea of what would’ve happened if he didn’t go outside, if he didn’t stumble out the front door that night. 

What if he came to and one of them was dead?

Jyushi squeezes his eyes shut again with a groan in discomfort. He barely manages to choke back a sob. Dizzy. When he catches his breath and peeks through misty eyes, he finds all of them staring at him.

Karamatsu leans carefully over the bed, offering the forgotten cup of water. "Here.”

Jyushimatsu mumbles his thanks, hands shaking enough that he loses his grip on the cup– Osomatsu’s hand darts out, catching it before more than a few drops spill on his yellow hoodie in his lap.

Jyushimatsu realizes he may start crying again.

He needs to figure this out, but where to start? Jyushi gets lost in the reflection of the hospital lights on the water’s surface. Despite his desire to just completely ignore the weird cryptic messages the golden wolf said, he should probably begin there.

He knocks back the water like it's a shot of whiskey. " Ahhhhh… " he sighs with exaggerated refreshment, then crumples the paper cup with a crunch against the hospital bed. The familiar silliness makes his brothers blink, disturbed.

"Totty." Jyushimatsu keeps his voice as flat as he could make it.

Todomatsu is startled by the sudden address. His fingers twitch against his thigh before he leans in towards him, "Y-Yes?"

"Can I use your phone?" He asks. 

Todomatsu hesitates, confused, before fumbling to pull his phone from his pocket. He hands it over without another word. Jyushimatsu hasn’t ever really been interested in his phone before. The brothers watch, silent, as Jyushimatsu’s thumbs tap against the screen with uncharacteristic focus.

[ What is a new moon?

The results are actually helpful, Jyushimatsu never considered any other moon phases existed outside of full, crescent, and whatever eclipses are. He just thought the rest were made up for fashion industry reasons. 

[ When is the next new moon?

Jyushimatsu’s fingers tap quickly, pulling up a lunar calendar. His brows furrowed as he scanned the dates, May 26th, last night, was a new moon… And anything the golden wolf would describe as his Jyushimatsu should consider it dangerous and bad. 

The next new moon falls on June 25th. A and under a month away. Jyushimatsu exhales through his nose. That wasn’t a lot of time. His grip tightens around Todomatsu’s phone as his mind races. What was he supposed to do until then? Wait? Prepare? His brothers are still staring at him, confusion and concern etched into their expressions. He can’t explain this to them– not yet, not ever.

“...Jyushimatsu?" Ichimatsu’s pipes up, voice tight. “What are you looking up?”

He ignores Ichimatsu’s question, briefly counting on his fingers. Twenty-nine days. Twenty-nine days until the next new moon, until whatever happened last night could happen again. Karamatsu's gaze locks onto the frantic movement of Jyushimatsu's fingers, his head tilting to the side as confusion furrows his brow. “Yeah, what are you–?”

Jyushimatsu hands the phone back to Todomatsu with a strained smile. “Thanks, Totty!” he chirps, but the pep in his voice is forced. The others exchange glances, but no one presses him. Good. He needs to think. 

Door creaks open again, their parents and authorities return. Damn! Jyushimatsu wishes he had the energy to seethe. Of course the second he tries being productive in his brain the police decide to get involved! He must’ve laughed or made some sound aloud, because his brothers looked at him again.

“We’ll need to speak with Jyushimatsu alone now,” An officer says, his gaze sweeping over the six of them. Osomatsu shifts to his feet, crossing his arms. “Already? He just woke up–!” 

“Join your parents, please,” The assistant officer’s tone leaves no room for argument.

The brothers rise from their chairs. Karamatsu hesitates, fingers twitching like he wants to offer some grand gesture of reassurance, but in the end, all he does is squeeze Jyushimatsu’s shoulder a little too quickly. Ichimatsu lingers the longest, before Choromatsu tugs him back with a mutter, “Ichimatsu, come on.” Todomatsu is close behind Choro, slotted at his side. And Osomatsu is last. He doesn’t even look at the officer, but he turns to Jyushimatsu and exhales softly, “We’ll be back.”

Then the door clicks shut behind them, and Jyushimatsu is alone with the investigator.

"Jyushimatsu," the investigator begins, "I know this is difficult, but I need to ask you some questions about what happened last night."

He nods.

"Here's the thing," the investigator continues, dragging a chair closer before sitting down. "We're moving this along because we believe this might be linked to other cases."

Jyushimatsu’s throat goes sandpaper dry. Other cases? What?! He’s going to have to lie. Lie hard. Lying while knowing jack and shit is never easy, but he needs to protect himself. He doesn’t want to think about what they may do to him if they figure out what he’s done.

“Several other butcherings of similar magnitude have popped up across the country. You’re one of the few living witnesses related to this killer.”

Killer.

Jyushi’s jaw tightens so hard his temples throb.

 “Uh… Question! W-Where? Uh– where are some… Of the– the y’know…” Jyushimatsu doesn’t mean to stutter so bad. He gestures vaguely, then helplessly, before dragging a hand down his face. 

“... The other murders?”

“... Yea.” 

The investigator flips through his notepad, the sound of rustling paper is a sensory nightmare. Jyushimatsu’s lip twitches, having to resist the urge to shout. There's too much in his head already to deal with this shit. Too much to handle these cops who couldn't possibly care that he's living through the worst moment of his life. When the heart monitor's insistent beeping spikes with his pulse, Jyushimatsu's breath stutters out as his fingers claw at his hoodie sleeve, trying to calm himself.

"Most recent one was on April 27th at Takigahara Family Campgrounds.” The investigator says without looking up from his notes.

Jyushimatsu sits up further in his bed. What the hell. That’s where he got the wolf bite during their camping trip… and April 27th would’ve been a new moon, if he remembered the lunar calendar right. "Takigahara? Near... near Shiraito Falls?" 

The investigator's pen stops mid-stroke. He looks up sharply. "You know the area?"

“Ah, just … uh– my family goes there often, ” he lies meekly, rubbing the back of his neck. He’d never done anything like what happened to Iyami before last night. There’s no way those other cases are him. As he begins to spiral, the beeping of his heart monitor grows louder, more insistent. He violently threw up after eating… just– just one … one person… unless that wolf that bit him was a… ?

“ Hello? Matsuno?” The investigator’s voice cuts through his descending thoughts. “Are you still with me, kid? Take your time.”

Jyushimatsu nods, panic flooding into his head. Body tensing as memories claw at the edges of his mind. He wants his brothers back in the room. He misses his mom and dad. There’s so much he has to figure out.

"Can you tell me what you remember from last night?"

…

Jyushimatsu struggles to recount his story, or rather his lie. His voice hoarse as he claims he went for a walk to clear his head. He describes hearing a noise, Iyami’s shouting, then insists his memory goes blank after being struck by something. It’s sparse and lacks detail, there’s not much to even tell. He mentions the cold concrete ground, being unable to move. Most of it is the truth regarding his actual recollection. Most of it. 

He can’t talk about the way his pulse had thrilled at the memory of galloping through the back alleys, wind tearing past his bared teeth. Can’t describe the dizzying rush of scents, oil, rust, grass, trash, cats, rotting meat, that flood his tongue even now. The inhuman thoughts snag him, drag him under. For a moment, he’s lost to it, but it’s too ephemeral, reeled back as if to taunt him for being trapped in this sterile room. 

Most of the questions are bothersome and pointless. But then the officer asks how he knew Iyami. 

He was stuck on this line of questioning for a while. It's a fair question– Jyushimatsu wasn't particularly close to him, not like how he is with his brothers... Iyami had just always been around, nearly a constant presence in his life. Not a positive familial force like an uncle or cousin might be. Just some old guy who kept stumbling into his and his brothers' lives, usually as a pestering, greedy weirdo going through what seemed like a perpetual mid-life crisis. And he was homeless, sometimes, occasionally. He swore he had a house at some point. 

The fondness of the past sat poorly with him. He doesn’t remember much of what happened next, only mumbling uncertain answers as guilt wrenched him from the present, pulling him deeper into the stiff hospital bed. Just because Iyami was a greedy bastard, did that mean he deserved what happened to him? Just because they weren’t close, should he feel any less terrible for what he’d done?

He knows the answer is no, and he’s grateful that the investigator allows him a moment of silence to cry.

It’s nearly sunset when it’s finally over. 

Jyushimatsu has successfully painted himself as a victim, one caught in the sadistic serial killer’s torture scheme, targeted only because he’d witnessed Iyami’s capture or death by happenstance one random night. Why he was left alive will remain a mystery. The real investigation is only beginning, he imagines. He knows that means more questions, more uncertainty, more lies. Lying should be easy– like claiming you’re employed or pretending you understand something. He does that all the time, not whatever the fuck this is. 

The investigator leaves, and his family swarms to his bed. He’s only staying a few more days, they tell him. Jyushimatsu doesn’t want to talk. Instead, he flops down and exhaustedly curls into himself, face buried in his hoodie, letting their voices wash over him like static. 

The only positive to come from the conversation, as he reflects on his splintered memories and what he now knows, was that a few things clicked into place with certainty. He’s either losing his mind–

Or he’s a werewolf. 

Chapter Text

Jyushimatsu has to stay a few more nights. It’s time to go back home, as much as  Ichimatsu wishes he could stay, the hospital won’t let them. The panic still hasn’t left his chest, the numbness he’s comfortable with can’t smother the gravity of the situation. Something horrible has happened to his little brother. It’s been awhile since he felt this useless. They filed out one by one, the door to Jyushimatsu’s room clicking shut behind them. Mom and dad will be staying behind a little longer; Jyushimatsu had asked them to.

Just as planned Ichimatsu lingers at the back of the pack, eyes locked on Todomatsu. In one smooth movement, he walks past and swipes the youngest’s phone straight from his pants pocket.

In sync, Choromatsu and Osomatsu grab Todomatsu’s arms while Karamatsu locks him in a bear hug from behind, stopping him from lunging at Ichimatsu to get his phone back, “What’s it say, brother?!” 

“HEY!” 

“What’d he look up?!” Choromatsu stretches his neck trying to peer at the tiny screen over Ichimatsu’s shoulder.

“What’s it say, Ichima-chan?” Oso pulls on Todomatsu’s hair when he tries to bite him, redirecting Totty’s malice towards Karamatsu’s in-reach ear. A pained squeal echoes down the hallway. 

“Hey! Hey– HEY!” Todomatsu flails, swiping with a growl. “You stupid idiots could’ve asked, and I would’ve just shown you!” He snarls, wriggling in his older brothers’ hold before giving up and going limp, too emotionally exhausted to entertain the tantrum further, “ I was planning to…” 

Ichimatsu sighs heavily, ignoring his brothers as his shoulders slouch. He sluggishly opens the search app to check the history.

[ wjgh

[ Wwht is new moo?m

[ What is a new moon?

[ When is the next new moon?

He scowls. Jyushimatsu has never cared about astrology– why the hell would he search this? 

"New moon..." Ichimatsu mutters under his breath, just loud enough for the others to hear.

In their sudden rush to see the phone, Osomatsu, Choromatsu and Karamatsu all released Todomatsu at once. The youngest brother yelped as he fell to the hallway floor, his legs having gone slack while they'd been holding him up, “ Ow! Jerks…” 

Osomatsu leaned in with genuine curiosity. "What moon?" he hummed. All four of them looked over Ichimatsu's shoulder to see the phone screen. He didn't budge as they crowded around him. When he clicked one of the searches, the lunar calendar popped up.

"He searched 'what is a new moon,'" he states flatly, "and then 'when is the next new moon.'" His thumb absentmindedly traces the phone's edge.

Karamatsu's head bobbed in theatrical understanding. "Ah! The new moon...of course..." His voice trailed off into uncertain silence. Choromatsu shot his older brother an unimpressed look. "It's when the moon's completely dark," he explained, pointing at the lunar calendar on the phone screen. "Like yesterday was." Ichimatsu's face scrunches as he gives a curt nod. He'd been thinking the same thing.

Todomatsu circles the group, peering over shoulders. "I thought the same thing when I saw it," he murmured, studying the lunar calendar, “Why would he look that up after being… Attacked? After everything?”

“It may not be that deep,” Osomatsu offers, scratching his temple. The suggestion is non-committal, but it was enough to make Ichimatsu bite back a groan.

Jyushimatsu is currently laying in a hospital bed, sobbing into the mattress, and Osomatsu had the nerve to say it wasn't ‘that deep’? Todomatsu, sensing the rage radiating from Ichimatsu's grim expression, cautiously reached out to take the phone from him. Ichimatsu allows it. Part of him wants his hands free anyway, just in case he needs to strangle Osomatsu depending on what comes out of his mouth next.

Osomatsu glances around at the mood shift his comment causes. With a sigh, he bows his head but maintains eye contact with Ichimatsu.

"You heard what the police were saying, right? What the doctor was going on about?" He slips his hands into his hoodie’s pockets. "Jyushimatsu's scared and messed up in the head right now– PTSD or whatever. I'm just saying that doesn't automatically make this some deep mystery–"

"–Stupid," Ichimatsu snaps, "If Jyushimatsu was looking it up, it means something."

Everyone falls quiet again. Jyushimatsu doesn't deserve this. He never deserved whatever happened to him under that bridge. The thought of something now broken inside him, damaged and scared, irrevocably changed by some monster– Ichimatsu groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose and massaging his forehead. What is he going to do?

"After everything that happened," he starts, then realizes too late how exhausted his voice sounds. The others turn to him, waiting. He has to finish now. "He wakes up, and this is what he looks up?" He gestures lazily. "Then he starts counting on his fingers–"

Choromatsu interrupts him, "– twenty-nine. He counted to twenty-nine after looking at the calendar. Like it's some kind of... deadline."

"In twenty-nine days is the next new moon!" Todomatsu adds, showing his phone to everyone again, tapping June 25th with a finger.

Osomatsu follows the conversation but remains unconvinced, his frown deepening. He walks ahead and naturally guides his younger brothers to follow– they all trail behind, lost in thought. 

Ichimatsu lingers at the back, mind sorting over dozens of little moments from today. Jyushimatsu looks different too– not just because he isn’t smiling, but in a way he can’t quite put his finger on.

He doesn't understand... Is Jyushi worried about another attack happening because it occurred on a new moon? Is it completely unrelated to Iyami's death, something he became curious about after the attack? He knows he should probably just ask Jyushimatsu what that was about, but his gut tells him he'll only get a lie as a response. He also wishes Shittymatsu would stop glancing back at him with that concerned expression, as if he's the one they need to worry about right now! His face twitches into a scowl as he shoves his hands deeper into his sweatpants pockets.

“So what the hell does any of that mean? What are we supposedly figuring out, here?” Osomatsu holds open the door for them, Ichi not bothering to spare Oso a glance as he shoulders past. He catches Osomatsu rolling his eyes, “What? Are we implying a werewolf attacked him or something, now?” Oso grumbles, annoyed at the moon talk.

“Don’t werewolves only come out on full moons?” Karamatsu adds thoughtfully, stroking his chin. Todomatsu mumbles a disinterested mhm, kicking a can down the sidewalk.

Choromatsu shakes his head with a scoff, “We seem to be forgetting that werewolves aren’t real.” He says with certainty. 

But whatever happened to Jyushimatsu is very real, Ichimatsu thinks bitterly.

The undeniable truth is this: Jyushi is hospitalized, forced to spend the night alone, and spent the whole day crying. He recalls how his little brother barely registered anything they'd said to him earlier. Jyushi’s hollow stare suggested he was lost in that terrible space where noises blur together and time slips away, when you’re trapped inside your own head. Who wouldn’t go to that dark, meaningless place after what Jyushimatsu must’ve witnessed?

"Look."

Osomatsu's grating voice suddenly gets his attention, rare in its seriousness. Ichimatsu's automatic sneer dies on his lips when he sees his older brother's expression.

 "I just think– We're... focusing on the wrong thing right now." Osomatsu runs a hand through his hair, "What matters is making sure when Jyushimatsu comes home, it's not... shit for him!”

That was not what Ichimatsu expected him to say. 

"Osomatsu is right!" Karamatsu declares, clenching a fist against his chest with fervor. He exhales sharply through his nose, "We must ensure his return is nothing short of super!”

Choromatsu and Todomatsu exchange glances, the tension in their shoulders easing slightly as Osomatsu’s words and Karamatsu’s enthusiasm sink in. But Ichimatsu remains silent even as his brothers discuss what exactly ‘not shit’ means, his gaze fixed on the ground as he walks– mindlessly following the voice of his brothers. 

Sadly, Osomatsu and Shittymatsu are right. Even home won’t feel safe to Jyushimatsu, not anymore. Maybe it won’t ever again. He’ll have to figure out how to help him, this isn’t something Jyushimatsu will just "get over” like the wolf bite scare. 

At some point, they’ll have to pass the bridge where the police found him.

At some point, they’ll have to attend Iyami’s funeral.

Arguably one of the most important people in his life is going to live with this burden forever. Out of all the miserable lives on this miserable planet, it should’ve been  him who was found under the bridge, not Jyushimatsu. Ichimatsu bites his lip as tears swell in his eyes, blurring his vision of his flip-flops. His steps falter then give way entirely. 

Ichi stumbles sideways, shoulder thudding against a bright streetlight before sliding down, his cheek scraping against the metal. The contrast between its metallic coolness and his warm tears makes his brain prickle.

His world is still spinning in overwhelm as Karamatsu’s hands grab at him, carefully helping him up. "Ichimatsu, are you okay–?" 

Ichimatsu shoves Karamatsu away with a growl, pushing him right into Choromatsu,“ Get off me,” He breathily hisses out on reflex, it mingling with a sob. He didn’t intend to be that mean. Whatever. He wipes his tears on his hoodie sleeve. 

"Hell– Ichimatsu, you scared us–!" Todomatsu's voice cracks between fear and irritation. 

“Let’s just get home,” Ichimatsu spat, his voice cracking through another sob as he shoves Todomatsu aside into Karamatsu. He doesn’t bother to apologize when it knocks Kara over onto the ground. He storms ahead, sick and tired of being out in public.

…

The hospital discharge papers crinkle in his grip, Jyushimatsu eyes glaze over the words as he stands at the front desk.  The clinical language feels absurdly detached from what happened. This is so mundane and simple of a task.

He’s just standing in a hospital lobby– a child coughs wetly into their mother's sleeve, an IV pole rattles down the hallway, the plastic leaves of a fake plant rustle under the AC vent, and his brothers distract themselves with something on Todomatsu’s phone. As if Iyami's blood isn't still crusted under his fingernails no matter how hard he's scrubbed and picked. That’s just how it's going to have to be, right? It's what he gathered from days of evaluation and more questions he didn’t have the answers to. 

Jyushimatsu nuzzles his jaw into his yellow hoodie, inhaling the faded fabric softener. He’s happy to be wearing his hoodie again instead of just snuggling with it like a big baby. Though, it may have shrunken during its last wash. 

 Emotional numbing consistent with ASD diagnostic criteria … psychosomatic presentation… Food aversion with apparent trauma-related triggers … Dissociation… Recommended weekly sessions with Dr. Saito... Trauma-informed cognitive behavioral therapy… Exposure protocol deferred until stabilization… 

A therapist. Right. They assigned him a therapist. It also seems they got some of his biometrics wrong–

"Jyushi." Ichimatsu's voice pulls him away from the papers. It's refreshing to stand beside his older brother rather than lying in bed with him hunched nearby. Jyushimatsu's wide smile spreads instinctively across his face, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes like it normally would.

"Yes?" He hates thinking about how Ichimatsu must feel right now.

"Let's go home," Ichimatsu gestures with a tilt of his head. "We'll get something sweet on the way, if you feel up to it.”

He must not have caught his facial expression in time. He was about to agree, despite how the thought of eating again today sent a void of dread spreading through his stomach, when Ichimatsu stopped him.

"Only if you want to…" Ichi reaffirms, voice gentle.

Jyushi frowns and slowly shakes his head, looking at the floor. "I just wanna go home."

“C’mon,” Ichi mumbles, drifting close to Jyushimatsu as he signals to the others they’re leaving. 

When Jyushi approaches his gaggle of siblings, Karamatsu springs out of his seat and hugs him. “Aahhh, brother! I’m so glad you’re out of that terrible bed!” 

Jyushimatsu flinches at the sudden hug but raises an arm to stop Ichimatsu from barking at Kara. He hugs him back, giving Kara a pat on the head. “Glad to be out of bed.”

“And it’s nice seeing you out of that hospital gown,” Todomatsu beams sweetly, clapping his hands together.

“Must’ve been embarrassing having your ass out all the time like that,” Osomatsu says as he slides to his side and affectionately ruffles his hair. “You rock yellow better anyway.”

Jyushimatsu smiles a little more earnestly and nods. “Yea.”

Choromatsu shifts his weight from foot to foot, fidgeting with his collar as he quietly speaks, “If you ever want to talk–”

He can’t talk about it. 

He cuts Choromatsu off with a tight hug, shutting down the conversation before it can go any further.

“Thanks,” he breathes out, pulling away before Choromatsu can comment. Choromatsu asking that so suddenly scared him.

Choromatsu and Ichimatsu both stiffen slightly at the hug, he can tell they find it strange. But Jyushimatsu doesn’t care. He’s wasted enough time in that hospital bed, and now he has work to do. The golden wolf’s threat still looms overhead, and he can’t risk dragging his brothers into this! It took him a while, but he’s finally pieced together a vague approximation of a plan: he needs distance. Aka, Independence. 

And for that, he’ll need money.

Normally, the idea of getting a job would send a ripple of anxious dread through him– but it doesn’t this time. Maybe it’s because he’s now been through worse. How hard could it be, really, just letting someone tell you what to do? 

Karamatsu throws an arm around Jyushimatsu’s shoulders, most likely because he noticed him spacing out. “Our sweet little brother has returned!” he announces proudly. “And we, as his gallantant siblings, shall–”

“–stop being weird in the hospital lobby and get moving?” Todomatsu cuts in cheerfully, already heading for the door with Choromatsu and Osomatsu. 

The brothers cluster together and slip outside. Sunlight spills across the pavement and hits his face, too bright and too warm after being inside all this time.

Osomatsu leads them the long way home. The deliberate detour around the bridge doesn't escape Jyushimatsu's notice. The brothers chatter as they walk, occasionally bumping shoulders or trading jokes that feel too loud for how tense Jyushimatsu feels. He keeps close to Ichimatsu, who stays quiet, glancing over at him now and then. 

“Are they bothering you?” Ichi murmurs, voice low enough that the others won't hear as he nods toward their bantering siblings. Jyushimatsu shakes his head, eyes fixed straight ahead. "They're just trying to help the mood." He wants to tell Ichimatsu everything, he forgets how easy everything feels with him.

His legs ache by the time they turn onto their street. He’s exhausted in a way that goes beyond tired muscles. Their house smells like something sweet and yummy. Cooked soy sauce, ginger, mirin. He hasn’t even crossed the threshold of their property yet, usually he can’t smell stuff from the kitchen this far outside. His werewolf theory continues to seem more plausible. It shouldn’t be plausible, because then it would be all weird magic supernatural stuff right? Werewolves are supposed to be made up–

“–Careful!” Ichimatsu's grip tightens around his elbow, steadying him just before his foot catches on the worn wooden step of the front door. Jyushimatsu exhales shakily, he hadn’t even realized he was holding his breath. His body goes slack as Todomatsu and Ichimatsu help him straighten up, giving him a moment to regain his balance.

“You boys made it just in time,” Matsuyo calls without turning around, her voice light. There’s a clatter of bowls, the soft shuffle of slippers against tile. Their mother is bustling in the kitchen, apron tied tight around her waist, sleeves rolled up.

His father steps forward from the dining area to hug him, saying something about how he’s happy to see him. Jyushimatsu doesn’t mean to let out a low, irritated huff at the embrace– it just slips out. The constant hugging is starting to wear on him. They don’t understand, he reminds himself. They shouldn’t be this close to him. He feels the same when his mother hugs him, closing his eyes as she showers his face with gentle kisses. 

His brothers start peeling off their hoodies and jostling toward the sink to wash up, arguing over who gets the last bottle of ramune. Ichimatsu stays by Jyushimatsu’s side as he stands in the kitchen doorway, momentarily forgetting the routine that used to come so naturally on a normal night like this. His parents and Ichi don’t comment, but the others look at him curiously when they return to eat and see he hasn’t budged. 

The table is set.

Seems mom cooked katsudon. 

He’d struggled to eat in the hospital. The dense, artificial meat they served filled him with a strange, new kind of disgust. It wasn’t just because it was unappetizing; it felt like an insult, like he was being offered a mockery of what his body craved. Fresh. Warm.  He masked the true extent of his disgust as best he could when others were around, careful not to give anyone the impression that it has anything to do with the attack. Turns out he did a shit job hiding it, but maybe his family didn’t read his discharge papers. His gaze darts to where the papers sit near the phone. When did he set them down? Maybe he should hide them. 

As much as he hated it, the artificial meat helped him not recall graphic memories of when Iyami was between his teeth– something bland enough to distance from the thrilling memory of flesh. But warm homemade pork cutlet? Oh, fuck, it’ll taste so amazing. It’ll taste so good. His stomach growls, guiding him to sit down. He hopes it tastes just as good. He can’t remember what pork cutlet tastes like. Maybe it can’t compare.

Jyushimatsu flinches and looks around, realizing he sat down without thinking. What was that train of thought? What the hell was he thinking just then? 

“ Breathe… “ Ichimatsu’s hand squeezes his shoulder, voice steady by his ear. Jyushimatsu shivers and relaxes, leaning into the touch as he drags in air. He tries to ignore the weight of his family's concerned stares.

"You okay, Jyushimatsu?" Osomatsu nudges his foot with his underneath the table.

"Can we get you anything?" Todomatsu adds, earnest.

He swallows a glob of spit that pooled from salivating at the back of his throat. The smell of the pork invading and caressing his lungs. “No, I’m okay!” Jyushimatsu smiles, his chopsticks hovering over his food. "Just... not really hungry right now.” 

Everyone knew he'd only managed plain cereal today– half-eaten at that, abandoned when it turned soggy. The bowl sat forgotten, milk growing cloudy around disintegrating flakes. He'd given up the moment the wet plop of falling chunks began sounding too much like... other things.

“ Don’t push yourself,” Matsuyo reaches out to put a hand over his, giving it a squeeze. "Just eat what you can," she murmurs, the worry lines around her eyes softening. Her thumb brushes his knuckles once before withdrawing.

“Okay!” He steadies his faltering smile and picks at his rice. It’s easy enough to eat. 

Across the table, Choromatsu fails to subtly watch him. He keeps pretending to look elsewhere, but Jyushimatsu catches the way his eyes dart back every few seconds. Todomatsu keeps quiet. Karamatsu and Osomatsu maintain the charade of normalcy, chattering loudly about some movie they must’ve seen together. The pork cutlet sits untouched on Jyushimatsu's plate.

He focuses on the other parts of the dish, tensing and shuddering as he swallows. It gets easier every bite, but not by much. When a piece of onion lodges between his teeth, he gags, disguising it as a cough as he turns from Ichimatsu. It’s not hair– it’s not hair… 

Probing his fingers in his mouth, he jerks back with a sharp inhale - A droplet of blood blooms on his thumb. What? Jyushi cautiously explores again, only to be met with the feeling of a sharp, sloped, pointed tooth hidden just past his lips. His breath hitches as he yanks his hand away, tucking it under the table and clenching it into a fist. He stares at his plate, his heart hammers in his chest. That’s not normal. That wasn't there before. Jyushimatsu takes deep, steadying breaths to slowly calm himself. 

A quiet shift of fabric beside him. 

"...Jyushi?"

“I just bit my tongue,” Jyushimatsu smiles at Ichimatsu again, grabbing his chopsticks with forced steadiness.

…

The six of them are getting ready for bed now, each slipping into their pajamas. They’d bought Jyushimatsu a new pair, still matching his brothers of course. He changes in the bathroom, using the privacy as an excuse to get some space away from his family. He peels off his hoodie and shorts, the motion feels automatic, his limbs heavy with exhaustion and dread as his clothes fall to the floor. The silence amplifies his growing awareness of how distracted he’s been all day. All week, really, rotting in that bed staring at white tiled ceilings. Only now does he truly examine himself. 

He looks denser, or maybe that’s just because he’s been burning fat, avoiding eating food. That sharp tooth discovery earlier set a new precedent– something is undeniably wrong with his body. He leans toward the mirror, hands braced against the cool porcelain sink, and opens his mouth wide and peers into his reflection. The sharp tooth he’d felt before wasn’t alone. He has four, which gives him a single molecule of relief, confirmation that he isn’t a vampire, at least. He doesn’t mean to laugh, especially out loud, fingers digging into the sink’s edge. 

His body is different now; whatever the wolf did to him changed him– changed his body in ways that shouldn’t be possible. He bites his lower lip, stomach churning as a sense of  violation begins to seep in. 

Dread slithers up his veins, numbing his frantic heart. Shakily, he presses a finger to one of the fangs and jerks back as a prick of pain confirms it’s real. Real and rooted deep. He lowers his hand slowly, staring now at his face. 

What if he smiles too big and the others see? 

Glancing at the pajamas, they look about a size too small, which confuses him; the tag clearly shows the right size. Still, he pulls on the shirt, slowly buttoning it up. The familiar soft blue fabric and the clean, new, slightly different texture offer fleeting comfort. But when he stands fully dressed, the shirt rides up conspicuously, revealing an inch of bare torso above his waistband that shouldn't be there. His breath catches, his hoodie didn’t shrink. He outgrew his own clothes. 

How is he supposed to hide this from his brothers? How have they not noticed already!? Maybe they’ve been just as distracted as he has. Maybe it’s because he’s been hunched over, or lying in bed most of the time. Maybe they did notice, but it was too awkward to bring up. Maybe it’s a mix of everything. 

He screws his eyes shut and groans. Fuck this! Bullshit! He just wants to go back to normal, to think about normal things. But now he has to hide the fact that he, and only he, out of a set of sextuplets– has suddenly, miraculously, grown an extra inch in his twenties?!

Stupid terrible wolf. It has to be the wolf’s doing, whatever form he took when he stole Iyami’s life has ruined his body forever. Terrible. Terrible. 

Terrible. 

                  Terrible.

Terrible. 

                                     Terrible.

Terrible.

“-Jyushimatsu?” Ichimatsu calls softly, knocking on the shut bathroom door.

Jyushi startles with a gasp, bolting upright with a scared shout. His brother’s voice pulls him away from the precipice of someplace dark and violent. Chest heaving, he stumbles to the door, unlocking it and flinging it open.

He throws his arms around Ichimatsu and clutches him in a tight hug, crying into his shoulder. His body shudders in Ichimatsu’s arms as his big brother gently rubs his back. He has to get out of here. He has to protect him. There’s little more than twenty days left until the golden wolf could return, and he needs to be ready. 

As Ichimatsu begins to cry too, his tears soaking the shoulder of Jyushi’s pajamas, Jyushimatsu only holds him tighter. “... I was so scared, “ Ichi whispers, “ I c-can’t fucking fathom how you feel, Jyushi. I’m so sorry.”

Jyushimatsu exhales, his hand sliding up Ichimatsu’s back to hold him more securely. Closing his eyes, he inhales his brother’s presence, swaying gently. He knows Ichimatsu will be the hardest to convince that he’s fine– the hardest to shake off if he tries to sneak away, to hide. He’ll be the hardest to let go of. 

The thought of being without Ichimatsu makes him feel small, makes him want to spill his heart out. As if Ichimatsu carrying the burden of knowing his little brother is a disgusting, revolting, murderous monster somehow would be less horrible than him simply leaving.

“ Let's go to bed, c’mon…” Ichimatsu pulls away, looking into his eyes, “We miss you.”

Jyushimatsu tugs his waistband up a little higher and hunches his shoulders, mimicking the way he’s seen Ichimatsu move. He wipes his snotty face on the sleeve of his pajamas and gives a small nod, silent and hollow with a frown, having nothing left to say. 

Chapter Text

Jyushimatsu wakes up earlier than his brothers, his sleep schedule still adjusted to the noisy, early-morning rhythm of the hospital. That, and he hadn’t slept all that well, though it still felt amazing to be back in his own bed. 

He’s also still glowing a little from the night before. His brothers had gotten into a small argument over who would get to sleep next to him on his other side– since Ichimatsu had already claimed one and threatened to kill anyone who tried to take his spot. Osomatsu, Choromatsu, and Karamatsu had all bickered over it like kids, and the memory softened the morning gloom before it soured. It’s exactly why he has to leave. 

He had wanted to choose Choromatsu, thinking the night he went missing might still be weighing heavily on him. But in the end, he picked Karamatsu. Of the three, Jyushimatsu figured Karamatsu would be the easiest to slip away from! And he’s going to have to if they're going to keep up this new arrangement of having a protective brother on either side of him at night. He already has to deal with Ichimatsu, and Choromatsu is super smart and stuff. Usually.

Well, to give Fappymatsu some credit, he actually uses his allowance to buy these “Qualifications” books when he’s not spending it on porn! Though Choro only really reads the porn from what he’s noticed. The books are packed with information about job requirements, salaries, and what industries are currently hiring in Japan. The job books, that is - not the porn. Maybe if porn actually included that stuff, the six of us would be employed by now… Useful stuff, honestly, even if most of it is geared toward career paths that require degrees.  So most of this is actually useless. He doesn’t have time or resources for college.

He shuffles a little farther from the backyard door, though he’s left it cracked open, just in case one of his weary brothers wakes up and notices he’s missing. They’ll probably panic and come rushing out barefoot in their pajamas, tripping over themselves in the fading morning dark. And they’ll just find him sitting on the porch quietly reading a book about the j-word. 

Or maybe their mom will be the first one up. Maybe she’ll see him out here and offer him some mango slices. He didn’t puke any of his food from last night up, so sliced fruit doesn’t sound too daunting.

He finally makes it to the section about where to start if you’re a terrible shitty NEET. Entry-level gigs, freelance work, small jobs. He doesn’t need to worry about rent or food, so whatever money he makes can go straight into savings. He just has to be careful - and buy himself some new clothes. More things he’ll have to lie about. More weight on his shoulders. 

“Hmm…” He remembers seeing a bunch of job flyers stapled to telephone poles and taped up around the coffee shop. That might be a good place to start. He’ll have to keep an eye out next time his brothers drag him somewhere. What will they think if they notice he’s looking for employment? Every time that gets brought up, things usually never work out… Realistically that's something he can’t just hide, so he’ll have to come up with a good excuse. Keeping his mind off what happened, perhaps?

“Morning,” Ichimatsu mumbles from behind, voice still thick with sleep.

Jyushimatsu glances over his shoulder just in time to see his brother rubbing at his eyes, hair a mess, more so than usual due to bedhead. Ichi grunts and shuffles forward, dropping beside him before letting his head thunk softly against Jyushimatsu’s shoulder. Eyes still half lidded, breath even and warm.

He has to make sure Ichi doesn’t notice how much taller he’s gotten, so Jyushi slounches forward. They sit in silence for a bit. Jyushimatsu thinks Ichimatsu may have dozed off back to sleep.

“Why were you looking up when the next new moon is?” Ichimatsu suddenly asks, breaking the quiet. 

He remembers that?! Of course he does. 

Jyushimatsu stiffens, “Uh–” Uh uh uh uh. Shit. It was easier lying to the police than it is with Ichimatsu. 

Jyushi fumbles, scrambling for a lie. “Iyami was talking about it,” he blurts, hoping the name alone will make Ichi back off. It feels gross, using Iyami like that. He already feels so dirty painting himself as the victim. His fingers worry at the peeling corner of the paperback in his hands.

He can feel Ichimatsu’s eyes digging into him, an unchanging and motionless frown.

“I– I just didn’t know what it was,” Jyushimatsu adds quickly. “And looked it up.”

Ichimatsu is silent for a moment.

“Okay,” he mutters, eyes slipping shut again.

Jyushi swallows hard and rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm. Crying again won’t help. He lets out a slow breath. His shoulders sag, and he leans a little more into Ichimatsu’s weight, letting the moment settle. His brother’s trust sits heavy on him, quiet and warm and undeserved. It presses into his ribs more than the guilt, more than the fear, and it makes him want to scream into the ground until his throat gives out. But instead, he just sits. Reading about jobs. To get money.

“Boagh,” Jyushi groans, bonking his head against the paper with a drawn-out, miserable sigh.

Ichimatsu’s arm twitches, then he decidedly wraps it around Jyushi. “Have you had breakfast?”

“…No,” Jyushi huffs, a headache beginning to spread through his skull.

Ichimatsu hums. “You should eat.” His tone is much more concerned now, “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

Jyushimatsu frowns, trying to think of something. Ichimatsu is hurting a lot too, and he needs to find a way to soothe him. He just wants to feel useful, Jyushi imagines.

“…Can you… cut me some mango slices?” Jyushimatsu asks, still fidgeting with the edge of the book, no longer reading, just staring at the words.

Ichimatsu grunts in response, nods, and pushes himself to his feet, shuffling toward the kitchen. Jyushimatsu blinks, surprised by how quickly he agreed. 

Tears well up in his eyes again. He’s so tired of crying.

...✦...

The door rattles shut behind him with a clack. He smells like sweat, dust, and concrete. Jyushimatsu’s own scent unfamiliar now, tinged with iron and something hot and gritty that clings to his clothes and frizzed hair. His work jacket is tied around his waist by the sleeves, sweat having soaked clean through the shirt underneath hours ago. A smear of paint streaks one side of his jaw, and there’s a bandaid peeking out from beneath his sleeve where he scraped his elbow on rebar.

He toes off his muddy boots on the mat, still riding the hum of tension in his limbs. Not pain, but a deep ache that comes from having to do everything exactly right.The smell of dinner hits him hard. It's some kind of stew tonight, maybe nikujaga, his stomach churns in confusion. Hunger and nausea knotted together, as it usually is since he last left the hospital. He still hasn’t gotten used to the way food makes him feel, contradictions of hunger and violent repulsion, like two sides of his brain fighting. He at least manages to swallow down meat now, sorta! Pork and chicken, but no red meat. 

Matsuyo’s voice calls out distantly from the kitchen. “Jyushi? That you, dear?”

“Yea,” he calls back, voice hoarse, the word scratchy and catching awkwardly in his throat. He didn’t talk much at work. He hasn’t had a reason to talk much in awhile. He’s been so… Focused. He didn’t expect to get a job so quickly, especially with the public shock of the bridge incident. He’s been employed with the construction crew for two weeks now. The job isn’t glamorous, but it’s solid. His foreman, an older man with a weathered face and permanent scowl, told him on day three that if he kept showing up early and not screwing around, they’d keep calling him back. And they had— he's worked every weekday since. 

Ichimatsu is the first to poke his head into the hallway. “You good?” Ichi asks, offering him a water bottle he must’ve just gotten out of the refrigerator. 

“... Yea. Work. Tired. “ Jyushi takes the waterbottle with a sigh of relief.

The others are gathered around the kitchen table, Todomatsu on his phone, Osomatsu stacking a tower of oranges with a massive pile of peeled rinds in front of him, and Karamatsu showing Choromatsu something on a crumpled paper receipt. They all look up at once when he enters.

“Aye, if it isn’t the working man! You quit yet?” Osomatsu snickers and Choromatsu smacks him on the back of the head, “ ow. “

Jyushimatsu doesn’t answer right away. He just takes another gulp from the water bottle, ice cold against the back of his throat makes him shudder, “No,” He sounds much more like himself, “Still there.”

Osomatsu clicks his tongue. “Damn.” He flinches and holds his hands out with a smiling yelp as Choromatsu raises a hand to smack him again. “Kidding, kidding!” Oso laughs softly. 

Karamatsu beams at him, standing and posing. “As expected from our Jyushimatsu! How goes the noble grind of labor, brother?”

Jyushimatsu has to think of the response to that question. How are things going? He rubs the back of his neck where his hair has dried into clumpy ridges of sweat and dust. His whole life has been consumed by the purpose of avoiding eating another person and possibly killing his family.

“The cranes are cool,” He settles on instead. 

Ichimatsu sits back down, not commenting, but watching closely like always. Ichi is still suspicious of him! His big brother's care is getting closer and closer to being annoying over comforting. Jyushimatsu takes a deep inhale as he feels rage creep up his neck again. The stress of his deadline is just getting to him. Some of the practices his therapist taught him has actually helped his blooming temper, it was never this bad before the golden wolf…

Todomatsu, without looking up from his phone screen, pipes up in a singsong voice, “I read the pay is decent for that kind of work. Not a career or anything, but you could buy, like, I dunnooo– five parfaits? A day if you’re not saving!” 

“That’s your unit of value? Parfaits?” Choromatsu scoffs, sliding the receipt to an interested Ichimatsu, who begins folding it into an origami frog. “Why parfaits–? You’ve been going to the café too often…”

“Shut up,” Todomatsu snaps, his voice sharp and defensive. “I’ve been stressed!” 

“From what…” Ichimatsu mutters, more to himself than anyone else, already expecting no answer as the conversation rolls past him.

“Yeah, and what fatty is eating  five parfaits a day?” Osomatsu starts peeling another orange from his impressive tower of oranges, “I’d probably shit myself like crazy if I ate thirty-five parfaits per week.”

“Did you just do math for that…” Ichimatsu says in offended disbelief, brushing Osomatsu’s orange rinds away from his side of the table. Oso just smiles monkeyishly at him with a mouthful of orange.

Silently, Jyushimatsu takes his leave, heading to the bathroom to wash up. He’ll go to the bathhouse tomorrow. After work, he’s always too exhausted to go anywhere but home. It’s hard to talk. It’s hard to care. It’s all so utterly draining. If his brothers are jealous or vindictive regarding his employment, he hasn’t noticed. Days go by so fast now. 

His paycheck comes every Friday, tucked into a delicate brown envelope with his name scrawled across the front in marker. He has two envelopes now, rubber-banded together and hidden within the folded fabric of his old highschool uniform, buried in the closet. It’s not enough money for a comfortable, secure plan for what may happen on the new moon. He’s searched through books at the library and found nothing besides romance novels, and even tried the library’s private computers to get a vague idea of what to expect. It sucks. The information is contradictory, and anything consistent reads like a horror show, literally. 

Stepping briefly into the bedroom to grab a fresh pair of clothes, he glances at the calendar. June 19th. Six days, less than a week. Jyushimatsu closes his eyes and inhales, trying to steady his racing mind, then shuffles his way to the bathroom and slides the door shut.

He slips out of his clothes and wets a hand towel, lathering it with warm water and soap. It’ll have to do tonight. He forgot to brush his teeth, too. He should probably do that.

He goes over The Plan in his head again as he scrubs under his arms:

He’s rented the sketchiest, most rundown shack he could find on the outskirts of the city for a night, tucked just far enough into the woods to be mostly alone. The shack isn’t where he plans to be during the transformation, it’s just for after. A place to stash clean clothes, to wash the dirt off when it’s over, if it goes like last time.

It’s barely more than four walls and a roof, but it’ll serve as a base– somewhere to hide out and to keep himself away from people. Especially his family. He cannot be in the house on June 25th. 

The shack isn’t perfectly isolated. There’s still all those rickety old trailers nearby, the bus stop, and some kind of storage or maintenance office that stays half-lit at night. But if he runs deep enough into the trees, he figures it’ll be fine. 

He assumes the golden wolf will return at midnight, as monsters tend to do, when the moon is highest and the night is deepest (apparently). And that’s the terrifying part, he has to assume all of this crap. He has to guess the timing. He has to guess that people will be far enough away. He has to hope that when he wakes up, he’ll be close enough to make it back to the shack on foot and not lost miles away, barefoot and naked in the middle of nowhere and nobody knows where he is!

And then there’s the excuse– he’s still working on that part. 

His plan primarily depends on the possibility that his brothers have forgotten his earlier interest in the new moon date. If he’s lucky, he can slip away into the bathroom at night, change clothes, catch the second to last bus out, and return the next morning before anyone really notices. Maybe he’ll say he just woke up early and went out for a walk. Or lie, say it was some kind of escape-from-trauma thing. Wanting to get out of the city for a bit because of some superstition tied to the new moon. That might be enough to convince Ichimatsu, at least. Maybe. 

Maybe he should just tell everyone that’s what he’s doing, preemptively. Maybe he should head out two days early. Maybe he shouldn’t be cutting it this close– but his small paycheck, along with the bit of stray money he’s scraped together from odd jobs, only gives him enough to rent the place for one day and one night. So this has to fucking work.

He’ll store his change of clothes, shoes, backpack, bus ticket, and any spare change under the bathroom sink the morning of– he hasn’t really slept in since leaving the hospital anyway, convenient for being employed.

He unclenches his jaw and exhales, running a hand through his greasy hair. Over the past month, the investigation has actually picked up, too. Flickering, blurry security footage and cobbled together street camera images that have captured the faint outline of some kind of furred, large creature in the area the night of the attack. Confirming his werewolf theory without a doubt.

When the investigators contacted him again last week, he nearly jumped over the desk and strangled the man out of sheer terror at the thought of being found out. But he can’t afford to get arrested or be seen as mentally unstable. He’d likely lose his job. Or worse, be near someone come the new moon. Nobody still suspects that it's him, so he simply maintained his previous story. 

When Jyushimatsu raises his head to look at the mirror, he sees a man he barely recognizes. It’s been so long since he’s felt like himself. And if things keep going the way they are, he doubts he ever will again.

He wrings out the soaked wash cloth, watching the suds and water spiral down the drain. 

9:02 PM

The bus will depart at 9:25PM. 

Jyushimatsu had managed to get his brothers to sleep an hour earlier than usual, wrangling them into an exhausting trip to the zoo just to wear them out ahead of time. The plan worked, and he feels smug about it. He wishes he has someone to brag to. But instead, he lies in bed pretending to sleep, silently counting the minutes.

He could hear Ichimatsu breathing on his left, soft, steady, nasal, and the faint rustle of Karamatsu’s blankets on the right, one arm flung above his head like he was posing for a dream. Their body heat pressed in from either side, warm, safe, suffocating. 

He wants to be free, he wants to be running against the wind, he wants– He squeezes his eyes shut against the intrusive, bubbling hatred swelling up in his head. Slowly, he scooted upward over his pillow, one inch at a time, lifting the blanket just enough to slip out from under it. Ichimatsu made a soft snoring noise and twitched. Jyushi froze, heart in his throat.

“…” Nothing, he exhales quietly in relief. 

Jyushi creeps forward on his hands and knees before rising to his feet–

A hand clamps around his wrist.

Jyushi flinches hard, a startled quiet gasp escaping before he can stop it.

“Where are you going?” Karamatsu’s voice cuts clean through the silence in the room. No sleep in it, no confusion. He’s been awake.

Shit. Jyushi’s breath stutters, not expecting this at all! His reflex kicks in before his brain catches up. He yanks his wrist back and smacks Karamatsu’s hand away. Stupid. Stupid! He looks more suspicious now. 

“I’m just going to the restroom!” He hisses in a whisper. He didn’t wait for a reply. Jyushi steps into the hallway, the floor creaking beneath his feet. He could feel Karamatsu straining and twisting his head to keep an eye on him. Out of the bedroom and into the hallway.

He allowed himself a slow, shaky breath only when the bathroom door clicked shut behind him.

The backpack was still under the sink cabinet, he had a lot of time to think of what he needed to bring with him. Money for the bus to and from, two changes of clothes, shoes, a pair of cheap bargain bin flip-flops, many protein bars, the receipt for his booked place, bottled water, a cheap prepaid flipphone he got by doing a coworker a favor, and a bit of gauze and disinfectant he shoplifted from the drug store— just in case. 

Jyushi slips out of his pajamas and dresses in his new outfit. He double-checks everything by feel in the dark, then slung his yellow backpack over his shoulders. 

9:10 PM

He’s about to open the bathroom door but stops himself, stepping over to flush the toilet and turn on the sink for a few seconds to keep up appearances. When he finally exits, he doesn’t spare a glance anywhere but ahead of him, he has to haul ass to the bus stop. 

A pressure in his skull. A twitch behind his ribs. The moment the front door clicks shut behind him, he runs into the night. He hears shouting, his brothers’ voices, but he doesn’t look back. He knows he can outrun them.

…

Karamatsu watches Jyushimatsu leave the bedroom to go to the “bathroom”, he listens to his little brother walk down the hallway then the shut of the bathroom door. He slips out of bed too, peeking down the hall and watching the bathroom door. 

His other brothers may have forgotten the date June 25th, but he hasn’t! 

A part of Karamatsu feels bad for being so distrustful of Jyushimatsu– but he’s worried… Jyushimatsu hasn’t been taking care of himself and he doesn’t even seem to be improving. Maybe it’s unfair to assume that he should so soon, especially after what happened that night, but Jyushimatsu has been elusive and acting strange over the past week in particular. Karamatsu is almost certain it has something to do with the fact that tonight is a new moon. That’s the mystery of it all, no? 

He knows Jyushimatsu never used to waste time in the bathroom. He’d get bored easily. He was always the kind of guy who moved quickly from one thing to the next, even if that next thing was just lazing around with his brothers. But since the attack, Karamatsu has noticed that Jyushimatsu treats the bathroom like a private sort of sanctuary, probably to avoid them.

He’s been withdrawn, snappish, skipping out on going to the bathhouse with them to do so privately, forgetting to shave, to eat, forgetting to reply in conversation. He’s been dressing in baggier clothes and making an effort to avoid everyone. With Ichimatsu that’s expected, but his sunshine of a little brother? Karamatsu had even considered reaching out to Jyushimatsu’s therapist for advice or to give an update! He and others have discussed what they should do, but any research they’ve done typically just says to just say to give him space. Not to pressure him. To let him open up on his own time. Trying to force improvement will only stress a victim more, right?

At the sound of fabric rustling, Karamatsu glances over his shoulder to see Ichimatsu sitting up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. The drowsy look on his face makes it clear Ichi can tell something’s going on, trying to force himself more awake when he notices Jyushi isn’t beside him.

Karamatsu hears the toilet flush down the hall and feels a flicker of relief. His shoulders ease. Then he hears a soft electronic bing! – a notification lighting up Todomatsu’s phone across the room. Ichimatsu’s eyes shift toward it, squinting at the screen as it lit up briefly. Ichi’s gaze lingers, like he’s trying to decide something.

And then the bathroom door opens.

Karamatsu spots Jyushimatsu walking out. Jyushi is no longer in pajamas– he’s dressed in jeans, a white shirt, and a black jacket he’s never seen before with a backpack on his shoulders. His shoes are already on. Karamatsu gasps and ducks beside the doorframe, hiding himself. The room remains silent except for the soft snores of their sleeping brothers as Jyushimatsu walks past the bedroom and heads down the stairs. 

This was some… Plot?! He had clothes, shoes, and a backpack in the bathroom? What?? His head hurts trying to figure out what exactly is happening, but this level of secrecy makes Karamatsu’s gut twist and settle in unease. He needs to figure out what his little brother is getting himself into. 

Karamatsu hustles lightly around the bedroom, grabbing his jacket in one quick motion as he whips by, no time to change into anything else.

“Kara?” Ichimatsu calls out, confused, watching him move from across the room. He must’ve not seen Jyushimatsu leave. 

“It’s Jyushi!” Karamatsu whispers back hastily, flying down the stairs to slip on his shoes and out the door. He catches a glimpse of Jyushimatsu’s yellow backpack disappearing past the edge of their property, just as he turns the corner.

“Jyushimatsu! Brother! Where are you going?!” Karamatsu shouts after him, but Jyushimatsu only breaks into a sprint. “ WAIT! “ Shit! Hell! Crap! He should’ve just followed him quietly!

Karamatsu bolts after Jyushimatsu, barely registering the sound of the front door opening again behind him. This absolutely solidifies that whatever Jyushimatsu is doing, it’s serious– serious enough that Karamatsu can’t just let him go. He has to catch up and find out what’s going on.

…

Ichimatsu wakes up, he isn’t sure why. But the air feels wrong, everything feels wrong, more than usual since Jyushi left the hospital. Everything has been wrong for a while, but the thrum of stress and worry claws at him. He stirs in the dark, sluggish and disoriented, eyelids still crusted from a sleep he didn’t mean to fall into. His bones ache with exhaustion from that damn zoo trip, and his body fights him when he moves, but the absence beside him is immediate– Jyushimatsu’s side of the futon is empty.

“Jyushi…” he mumbles, voice rasping in his throat. Ichimatsu rubs his eyes and tries to wake up faster. Tonight is the new moon and his exhaustion actually pulled him to sleep despite his intentions to stay up. Fuck. Worthless, useless. His sleepy brain tells him to lay back down. No! Piece of shit, wake up. 

A wave of self-directed disgust tightens in his chest as he hauls himself upright. The room is dim, lit only by the faintest glow of the night through the window. All his other brothers are still asleep. Osomatsu snored softly, Choromatsu on his stomach drooling into his pillow, and Todomatsu curled in a self-protective knot. What isn’t normal is the way Kara is wide awake, staring toward the hall like he’s listening for something. There’s the sound of the toilet flushing.

A soft bing! whispers in the room as Todomatsu’s phone lights up. Ichimatsu’s eyes flick to the glow on instinct– his gut telling him to grab the phone, that Totty got a random spam email  just this very moment for him specifically to see. 

A second later, Ichimatsu watches his older brother tense, and then - Karamatsu sidesteps hastily out of the doorway like he’s hiding. 

Ichimatsu’s heart thuds in his chest, pushing himself up from the futon. Sees a flash of yellow– a backpack? Ichi doesn’t even breathe as he listens to the distant, almost silent creak of the front door opening.

“Kara?” Ichimatsu says, low and hoarse, still blinking away the fog of sleep, shaking his head with a groan. He never wakes up easily. He hasn’t fully put it together yet, but the urgency radiating off his older brother is infectious. 

Karamatsu springs into action, practically confirming everything he feared. Kara throws on his jacket, whispering something frantic. “It’s Jyushi!” he hisses. Then he’s gone.

Ichimatsu stares at the doorway, cold dread blooming in his gut. Something is happening and he’s already a step behind. Ichimatsu forces himself to move, falling over as he scuttles across the ground to grab Todomatsu’s phone. 

His purple varsity jacket is still crumpled on the floor beside the bookshelf, where it’s been for the past four days. He grabs it and shrugs it on as he stumbles down the stairs, hastily sliding into his shoes. He’s pretty sure he woke up the whole house with his graceless descent.

“JYUSHIMATSU!” Ichimatsu hollers, his voice ripping through the street as he chases after the fading shadow of Karamatsu. 

He’s already out of breath, his chest burning as his stride wobbles. He growls low in frustration and straightens up, forcing his legs to move faster. The streetlights blur past in his peripheral vision as the cold night air cuts down his throat. His lungs ache and the backs of his calves burn.

9:20 PM

Karamatsu is ahead of him, but Ichimatsu can tell from the uneven rhythm of his stride that he’s winded too, shouting after their younger brother to stop running, to come home. They fumble past shuttered shops and dark, silent buildings in a city that feels far too asleep for the hour. All Ichimatsu can see is the bright yellow of Jyushimatsu’s backpack lighting up each time he passes under a streetlamp. He’s purposefully trying to shake them off– taking sudden turns, weaving through side streets. Where the hell is he going?! Ichimatsu wants to spit curses, to scream.

Idiot. Running from home won’t fix anything. You’ll still be broken. It’ll still hurt. Don’t leave. It’ll be better here. It’ll get better, right?

The thoughts bloom bitterly in his head. Tears in his eyes again, from exertion and fear and not knowing what’s happening to his brother. He feels his usual irritation toward Karamatsu snap and flare at the edges of his thoughts, but it fizzles uselessly, irrelevant. Karamatsu is the only one doing anything. The rest of their shitty sextuplet brothers are probably still at home. 

Karamatsu makes a sharp turn and Ichimatsu nearly falls, skidding as he follows. That’s a dead end! He takes a deep breath, wiping the sweat off his brow and forces his legs to keep moving, chasing after the flash of Kara’s blue jacket as it disappears into the alley.

9:24 PM

“Jyushimatsu, there’s– there’s nowhere else to run, brother! Please! At least tell us what’s– what’s happening…?” Karamatsu pants, his voice cracking in confusion as he stares ahead. Jyushimatsu effortlessly scrambles over the barricaded end of the alley, hoisting himself onto the wall and vanishing to the other side. Karamatsu jolts forward and reaches out but he’s a second too late.

Ichimatsu’s heart pounds, their location dawning on him. Sometimes stray cats flee from the traffic near the bus stop and hide in this alley– Fuck. The bus stop! Jyushimatsu is trying to run away.

“Up! Go!” Ichimatsu crouches quickly and offers Karamatsu a lift, he’s less exhausted than he is. He has a chance of getting Jyushi. No other words are shared as Karamatsu plants a foot on Ichimatsu’s knee and hauls himself over the blockade, landing on the other side with a heavy thud.

“Ichi–” Kara starts, glancing back, worry etched across his face.

“GO, SHITTYMATSU!” Ichimatsu barks, breath hitching so violently he’s certain he’ll puke if he tries to suck in one more gasp of air.

Luckily he doesn’t have to tell his older brother twice, Kara shouting Jyushimatsu’s name again as he disappears around the corner. Why hasn’t Jyushimatsu shouted back? Why hasn’t he said anything? 

Ichimatsu digs his fingers into the boards, arms burning as he hauls himself up and over the fence. He lands hard, knees scraping the pavement. Pain shoots through him, but he forces himself upright and pushes forward. He catches one last glimpse of the yellow backpack vanishing in the distance, just as the bus doors hiss shut. The vehicle lurches to life, rumbling quietly as it sputters down the street. Ichimatsu watches as Karamatsu catches up to the bus, leaping onto the rear bike rack and clinging on with both arms to pull his legs up, setting his feet on the tentative edge of the bumper. The sight sparks a flame of urgency in Ichi. He stumbles forward in a desperate sprint, legs trembling and lungs burning.

Then Karamatsu reaches back, stretching out a hand despite the gap in the street between the two of them. It’s reckless, stupid, and a terrible fucking idea. But Ichimatsu pushes harder, sandals slapping against the pavement until he reaches out in kind and latches onto Kara’s outstretched hand with his.

Karamatsu hauls him up with a strained grunt and firm grip, and Ichi manages to balance beside him, the two of them clinging together on the back of the moving bus. 

“What if the police–” Karamatsu begins, breath hitching as he tries to recover.

“Then the bus’ll properly stop,” Ichimatsu cuts in between gasps, wiping sweat from his brow. “And we’ll tell them… we’re trying to stop our idiot brother from running away.” 

He doesn’t sound confident, but he’s banking on the late hour, on empty streets, dumbfounded onlookers, and on luck. He pulls out Todomatsu’s phone from his jacket pocket, showing his brother that they’re not totally shit out of luck if they get stranded. 

Chapter Text

9:30PM

Jyushimatsu sinks into the plastic seat’s stiff pillow, knees pulled up to his chest, backpack still strapped tight. His breath still rasps shallow and fast, but it’s more from nerves than exhaustion. The inside of the bus is dim and mostly empty, just two sleepy-eyed strangers staring ahead or dozing off under flickering lights. Nobody gives him a second glance.

Good.

He doesn’t want to be seen, he lies to himself. Jyushimatsu rattles side to side as the bus drives down the bumpy road. He cries into his knees, fingers digging into his jeans as he shudders from his tears. Karamatsu and Ichimatsu are just worried and scared. Worried and scared about him. And he ran away, they don’t understand that he was the monster under the bridge.How will he explain this to them when he returns? They’ll probably call the police– no. No nono he’s a grown adult. Not some missing child! Will he even return? Is it even worth it? He groans and buries his eyes deep into the bump of his knees till the throbbing in the back of his head numbs. Whatever, that’ll be a problem for tomorrow, he simply needs to be away from them.

Hunger twists in his stomach, and Jyushimatsu reaches into his backpack to grab one of his protein bars. He chews slowly, but it feels like grainy sand that turns into tasteless sludge in his mouth. This isn’t what he wants.

9:49 PM

The bus continues to hum quietly beneath him, stopping, just long enough to let a few of the remaining passengers off. He opens a second protein bar and eats it too. It’s just as useless. He’s still hungry. Jyushimatsu bites his lip, shoulders trembling as he curls in on himself. His arms tighten around his middle, and for a moment, he wishes– desperately, achingly, that he wasn’t so alone. He can’t recall the last time he’d been alone on a bus. This may be the first time.

He wants to go home. He wants his mom. His dad. His brothers. He laughs pathetically, he should be used to this by now. How many times has he had these thoughts? How many times have they actually saved him? 

10:30 PM

The third protein bar is still just as useless.

11:02 PM

The bus finally stops at the rundown estate– some park that looks like it’ll be closing up shop any day now. Jyushimatsu stands and makes his way to the door, stepping down the creaky steps and passing beneath the lone streetlamp, moths flutter around its aging yellow bulb. There’s no city noise, just the chirp of insects in the trees. Reminds him of the stupid camping trip, back when getting mauled by a sharp-toothed dog was the scariest thing that has ever happened to him. A minute or two of walking gets him off the road and onto the dirt path that winds past the chain-link fence and into the woodline. His shoes crunch over dead leaves and twigs. 

He keeps his eyes forward, shoulders stiff as he walks toward the little main office, its one overhead light flickering across the cracked pavement. The building is a simple, boxy piece of crap. Prefab walls, dusty windows, one door with peeling red paint.  Jyushimatsu glances around as he approaches, the broken vending machine out front, the empty lot dotted with rusting trailers with no lights on. It’s quiet besides the song of the forest. Abandoned feeling. That’s good. Very good.

Inside the office, the fluorescent lights buzz. A lone employee, a graying man in a zip-up jacket with a stained lanyard around his neck, sits behind a stained wooden counter, casually flipping through a nude magazine.

Jyushi steps in slowly and the door clicks shut behind him, making him flinch.

The man doesn’t look up. “Late check-in?”

Jyushimatsu nods quickly, hand fumbling in his bag to pull out the printed receipt. “Um, yea. I, uh– yea. I’m Number… 5. For– for the suites…?”

The man takes the paper, scans it with disinterest, then reaches under the counter and hands over a key with a large, faded tag. “You’ll be at the edge. Last unit on the left.”

Jyushimatsu takes the key gently. “...Thanks.”

He hesitates, fidgets, his fingers toy with the strap of his backpack. The man finally looks up. “Something else?”

“Uh.” Jyushi swallows, mumbling something meaningless before forcing his voice to come out. “Are you… staying here tonight, sir?”

The man raises an eyebrow, then snorts. “Nahhh. I lock up in ten minutes! Just you and the stray dogs after that, son.”

Jyushimatsu exhales, tension escaping his shoulders. He manages a shaky smile, but just like he’d practiced all month, he quickly shuts his mouth before it can widen too far– before his fangs can show.

The man doesn’t say anything else, already back to his dirty magazine. Taking the cue, Jyushi backs out of the office, key clutched tight in his sweaty hand, and heads down the dark, gravelly path that fades into grass toward the last shack on the left. His heart thumps steadily in his chest as the door creaks shut behind him. Alone again. 

He flicks on the light and raises his head to peer at the old clock in his smelly, mildew room, squinting at the blurred numbers before pulling out his prepaid phone to double check the time.

11:10 PM

He drops his backpack onto the creaky bed and sinks to the floor, palms dragging against the rough, scratchy carpet. A low groan slips from his throat as he clutches his head, breath hitching into a quiet whine. He curls into himself.  He doesn’t want to do this.

Get up.

The faded memory of the pain that came with the wolf taking over his body bubbles to the surface– his mind that night previously consumed by the feeling of tearing shredded meat from his own stomach, and the crushing guilt of being a murderous, selfish liar. 

Jyushimatsu remembers when he used to be fun and made people laugh. He’s taken a lot for granted.

He strips off his shirt, then his shoes and socks. He remembers how big he felt. Strong. Powerful. Terrifying. Those images from security cameras that barely captured the silhouette of whatever demon is within him now. Jyushimatsu shudders at the memory of Iyami, a quiet whimper escaping him. He slowly folds his shedded clothes and puts them into the backpack, grabbing one of his oversized sweatpants he bought over a week ago. The stretchy waistband should help reduce the amount of ruined clothes he’ll have to dispose of. 

Tearing fabric, stretching muscles, feeling suffocated. 

His leg hurts again– just like it did the night he killed Iyami. It’s a dull, fuzzy ache right now, however. Jyushimatsu takes a moment to roll up his pant leg and get a better look at the old injury: healing scars, the marks of sunken teeth from the past etched into his flesh. Jyushi knows there has to be some obvious relation, but he’ll piece it together later. He sighs and slips on his brightly colored bargain flipflops he brought. He shivers in his state of undress, turning his head to notice the window is cracked open as a breeze slips in. No wonder this place is filthy, how long has that been ajar? 

11:14PM

He should head out into the forest now, run as deep as he can. Jyushimatsu slides his backpack, along with his keys, under the bed and heads toward the door. Hiding them just in case someone notices his room is unlocked, no way he’s keeping his keys on him tonight. He pushes the door open and steps into the night. The air is cooler than expected, damp and thick with the scent of moss, rust. The gravel crunches beneath his flipflops as he walks past the crooked fence and down the overgrown path that borders the estate. 

The trees loom in the distance then swallow him. 

11:35PM

His legs feel too short for his body. His joints ache like they’re warning him. The moon pulses behind the clouds. It doesn’t take long until something inside him responds to that pull with a gnawing hunger. An itch under his skin. Like he knows he’s in the woods, he knows there’s acres and acres of wilds and fresh winds. He begins to run, tears in his eyes, a smile spreading across his face– unable to help it. It’s been so long since he felt like smiling. The air is starting to smell like rain, the uneven texture of leaves rushing by grazing his skin. 

He can’t recall when he loses his shoes, but the dirt beneath his feet feels perfect.  He’s so stupid– Why didn’t he do something like this in the first place? Why did he waste time prattling in a moodily lit therapist’s office, boring his life away with garbage food and meaningless trash. Thin paper walls and scratchy fabrics. All dull colors of red, blue, green, purple, and pink wash away in comparison to the call of the night.

Jyushi jumps over a small stream, moving faster and faster when his feet hit the ground. He snarls, running faster, faster. Maybe the fastest he’s ever gone. The trees whip past, the blackness of night easy to maneuver.  Yes. Yes. This is what he wants, this is what he– 

He trips, letting out a yell as his leg throbs with pain. He tumbles to the ground, skidding across the leafy forest floor before slamming into the scratchy bark of a thick tree trunk. He might be knocked out– everything goes black for a moment. He’s somewhere weightless and blissful, only to be suddenly ripped awake from the painless black. 

11:58PM

Agony ripples through his body, jostling him awake. Gritting his teeth through the pain, his body feels too small, fingers clawing into the soft dirt. Jyushimatsu groans, slowly crawling away from the tree and rolling onto his back. Jyushimatsu stares up at the dark indigo sky as his chest heaves up and down, the canopy of trees swaying gently in the wind. Only then does he remember to breathe, mirroring their whispers as the delicate, sprawling shadows above him ease him to relax. He clouds part and his gaze meets the new moon, tears streaming down his cheeks as his body begins to violently tremble, drool nearly choking him as it foams in his mouth. 

…

Ichimatsu stops walking. He stands still, the silence of the forest buzzing in his ears. The grass is damp beneath his sandals. He’s using Totty’s phone as a flashlight, held low, casting long shadows over the uneven trail. He doesn’t call out again. There’s no point. “Jyushi!” echoed through the trees four times and brought back nothing. He knows his brother isn’t going to answer.

So instead, he listens. It's like searching for a cat, right? … Stupid fucking comparison. Your little brother having a mental break isn’t anything like a damn cat. 

The sound of gravel and sticks crunching behind him draws his attention. Karamatsu, panting as he catches up, the glittering blue of his track jacket standing out against the forest's darkness.

“You can’t just keep wandering off,” Karamatsu huffs, pushing branches aside. “What if something happens to you too?” Ichimatsu hates how serious and concerned Karamatsu sounds, it makes his face fluster and pisses him off. However, irritation melts away again like thawing ice, he’d be here alone otherwise. 

Ichimatsu doesn’t look at him. He keeps staring into the woods. “...He’s this way.”

Karamatsu frowns, glancing past him toward the darkness of the forest, “You don’t know that, Ichimatsu.”

“We’ve already come this far,” Ichi breathes through his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut with a pained huff. He forces them open and pushes forward, Karamatsu right at his side.

“Are we supposed to turn back?! We can’t–” Ichimatsu scoffs, eyes sweeping the forest floor for any kind of clue.

“We already do nothing with our jobless, crappy lives. I need…” He drags a hand down his face, frustration tightening his voice. Karamatsu watches him, brow furrowed.

“I need to do something. We need to do something. We can’t just g-give up! We need to be HERE–” His voice cracks.

Karamatsu steps towards Ichi, gripping his shoulder firmly.

“And we won’t. You know Jyushimatsu best, if your gut says he’s this way, brother– then this way it shall be!”

Ichimatsu exhales hard, shoulders slouching. “But do I?” he mumbles.

Kara frowns. “Why of course, I’d say it's inspiring–

“ We barely- we don’t talk anymore.” Ichi’s eyes sting. He scoffs and walks ahead, trying to keep his calm, “It’s not just because he’s scared!”

“When was the last time he went out to practice baseball? Or went on a walk? Go to the playground? Or had a full dinner with us?” His voice begins to rise. “When’s the last time you saw him smile?”

“Well, he’s traum-”

“ He GREW!” Ichi snaps, spinning around to face Karamatsu, his tone almost disbelieving. 

The flashlight blasts Karamatsu in the eyes, and shields his face with a hand, “W-what..?”

“He’s taller than us now, have you even noticed that?!” Ichimatsu scoffs, “The baggy clothes, t–the bad posture, he doesn’t want us to see how he looks, Kara. He doesn’t want us to see him.” He knows what it’s like. 

“I…” Karamatsu tries, but it comes out small, uncertain. “I didn’t notice.”

Ichimatsu sighs through his nose, bitter. “Yeah. Neither did I.” Not until a few days ago. He’s no better than any of them. 

“Instead of fucking saying something, I just… assumed he’d tell me…” He has no idea what that means! He’s taller, yes, he’s certain of that. But how does that happen? 

Karamatsu scratches his head, trying to parse what that even entails. They walk in an uncomfortable silence. Ichimatsu glances at his older brother, his expression delicate, uncertain. He should probably say something. If there’s anything to learn from this dogshit debacle… His thoughts trail off.

“…T–thank you,” Ichimatsu blurts, already cringing. He grips the phone tighter in his hand. “For being here.”

Karamatsu straightens a little, a proud smile beginning to tug at his lips. “Whyyy, of course, my dear br–”

“Look.” Ichimatsu interrupts, eyes snapping ahead. Anything to avoid holding eye contact after saying that. “Snapped branches.”

Karamatsu stumbles to a stop beside him, his half-formed flourish vanishing. Ichimatsu moves the beam of the phone’s flashlight, it swings forward and reflects off something garishly bright instead.

“…What the hell is that?” Karamatsu murmurs in genuine confusion. Ichimatsu cautiously approaches, crouching to pick it up and hold it between two fingers. It’s a bright yellow flip-flop, plastered with little baseball decals.

They exchange a single, knowing glance. 

“This way!” they shout in unison, taking off down the trail.

The path narrows, roots nipping at their ankles. The damp air is heavier now, the trees more tightly packed, the shadows and ivy thicker. Ichimatsu leads with the flashlight, the bright yellow flip-flop still clutched in his other hand before he remembers to shove it in his jacket’s pocket. He’s never really been this deep in the woods before, ever, even during the camping trip- A scream then tears through the woods ahead of them, echoing off the trees in raw, agonized desperation. Ichimatsu doesn’t think, his legs are moving before his brain can catch up. 

“Jyushi?!” There’s no proof it’s actually him, but it’s the only lead they have outside the shoe. Does he even have time to question it? Karamatsu shouts his name behind him, keeping up. Branches whip past Ichimatsu’s arms as he barrels through the undergrowth, thorns scratching at his skin. His sandals skid unevenly on the forest floor. 

Another scream, closer this time but weaker. Then a howl, a wolf howl that crescendos through the trees. “Wolves! We need to be careful,” Karamatsu says, quieter now, but not slowing.

“Yeah.” Ichimatsu automatically says. “If they're near Jyushimatsu–” He doesn’t finish the thought. They start running faster, legs pounding through the brush, breath coming harder.

The two eventually break through a curtain of hanging vines and nearly trip over a slope of loose dirt. Karamatsu grabs his shoulder after running into his back, steadying them before they’re both moving again. He hates running, fuck, running and moving is terrible. This is why he never does this shit. 

They find themselves in a small clearing, flashlight beam sweeping across its expanse. They don’t see anything but empty grass and a mess of disturbed leaves. Ichimatsu pants, leaning forward to rest his hands on his knees as he catches his breath. Karamatsu leans against a tree, groaning and scrubbing his face, “I swear that… That shouting was coming from here…” Ichimatsu walks in a slow circle, sweeping the phone flashlight across the treeline. Karamatsu investigates the pile of leaves in the middle. Ichimatsu finds more broken branches- most of them higher up than low to the ground. No way that’s Jyushimatsu, then. Maybe a storm?

He groans, frustration curling in his gut, and shouts into the dark. He wants to give up. Call this a lost cause and wake up from whatever nightmare this is. There’s no way this is real, there’s no way any of this bullcrap is real! Maybe they’re chasing the wrong guy, maybe that awful scream didn’t even come from their brother.

Jyushimatsu could still be in one of those jaundice-colored suites. The guy at the front desk said Suite 5. The door had been unlocked, but there wasn’t a single trace that his brother had even stepped inside. No yellow backpack. No clothes. No mess. Nothing.  Jyushimatsu had to have gone out into the woods! Why? What purpose? What if they find him, and he’s done something terrible to himself…? Many dark thoughts race through his mind, none of which being the kind he enjoys. 

He lowers the flashlight and stares at the forest floor. Ichimatsu squeezes the bridge of his nose, trying to push the headache back behind his eyes. He hears Karamatsu crunching over behind him, the shuffle of forest detritus grating in his ears. Karamatsu slows down when he sees the tension in Ichimatsu’s shoulders.

“There’s nothing,” Ichimatsu mutters, his voice hoarse. “Just broken shit and shadows.”

Karamatsu suddenly places both hands on his hips in that ridiculous, overly theatrical, painful way of his, voice puffed full with faux confidence.  “Don’t give up yet, brother!” he declares, trying to infuse it with stubbornness. “We're not finished. Jyushimatsu is out here. I can feel it!”

Ichimatsu grunts, barely acknowledging him. His gaze stays fixed on the dirt, trying to pull his worthless ass together. What if he’s being attacked again? Karamatsu takes determined strides forward, brushing aside a shrub, talking more to himself than anyone else now. “We six are a set! Jyushimatsu is my brother as well, and I wish to get him home safely. I’ll check over here– maybe something broke this way…”

His voice fades as he wanders into the edge of the tree, voice turning into meaningless babble as Kara continues attempting to encourage him. 

Then comes a faint sound, almost nothing. Not from the direction Karamatsu went but behind him, across the clearing deep in the trees. Something shifts, blurry and indistinct. He doesn’t think to lift the flashlight just yet, convinced it’s a trick of his eyes, the woods wavering through his tears welling up. His brain tries to register the shape as just a tree, nothing more. Still, he figures he might as well raise the flashlight toward it.

Two eyes that are nine feet off the ground catch the light, dull and reflective. 

Ichimatsu goes rigid, a cold abyss spreads throughout his veins and makes him numb. 

A monster is looking right at him– hulking and uncanny, a creature with the twisted body of a  person but the warped flesh of a wolf. Its eyes are unmistakably human. Unblinking as drool shimmers down its maw, the fur around its sharp-toothed mouth is a lighter, matted shade. It takes a step forward.

Ichimatsu steps back. He’s unable to look away even as its towering body lunges out with shocking speed-

“ ICHI–! “ 

Ichi doesn’t even recognize Karamatsu’s voice with how it warped in terror. He then feels his big brother’s hands burning through the fabric of his jacket as they slam against his side, shoving him hard, out of the way and down to the ground. 

The creature’s mouth unhinges as it ducks down, its jaws stretching wide to clamp around Karamatsu’s arm at the shoulder and lift him off the ground. Kara’s scream is guttural as it splits through the night, at the mercy of the creature’s crushing teeth. He thrashes his body midair, legs kicking as his arm bends at a grotesque angle in the monster’s jaws with a snap. The sound is wet, like stringy meat tearing, and Ichimatsu can only watch, frozen, as blood arcs across the clearing in a fine, hot dribble and splatters into the grass.

“Kara!” Ichimatsu’s voice cracks in a way he’s never heard before. His hands scramble for anything on the grassy floor, a rock, a stick, as the beast swings Karamatsu’s body like a ragdoll downwards and slams him hard into the ground. The impact makes a noise Ichimatsu never wants to hear again, Kara gasping for air as it is knocked out of his lungs. 

The flashlight’s beam shakes wildly in his hand as he finally forces himself to his feet, trying to run forward and do something, but his body won’t budge. “Let him go!” he screams, his voice shrill, useless and furious. He throws the phone at the beast’s shoulder, the device bouncing off its musculature and falling to the ground with a pitiful thud. Its light beams up towards the sky, permeating throughout the opening with a stalk white and meek ambience. The monster turns its head slowly toward him, Karamatsu’s limp body still half-dragged in its maw, eyes half-lidded and unfocused. It drops Karamatsu like a chew toy, his body thudding against the ground with a terrifying stillness. 

Then, it rises to full height again, faint pale light of the dark moon silhouetting the creature. 

“Stay– stay away from him-” Ichimatsu whimpers to himself, taking a step back and trembles, “Stay away from my brother–!” 

The creature charges at him instead, galloping forward and grabbing his torso with a single, gnarled hand. Its fingers wrap around his middle, inch-long talons curling, tearing through his jacket, and digging into his sides and back as it pins him to the ground. Its face is nose to nose with his, its drool dripping down and soaking into his pajamas as he scrambles, squirms, and cries.

Ichi claws at its furred wrist with his hands, fingernails scraping against the skin underneath its coarse hair. It’s wearing a pair of trousers, clothes, Ichimatsu belatedly realizes– the thought overshadowed entirely by the other realization that he must be staring a real werewolf in the face. That offhand comment Osomatsu made a month ago bites through him like venom. 

There’s a faint ring fur pattern on its forehead, framed alongside the new moon over head. Another realization dawns on him like the warm orange of the rising sun, melting and cracking frigid sheets of dense ice. 

The werewolf’s grip tightens, and it shoots its mouth closer, going in for a bite–

Ichimatsu raises his hands and grabs the sides of the werewolf’s mouth as its jaws unhinge, staring down its throat while the adrenaline throbs through his arms. He digs in, forcing his strength into the now gagging, confused creature. It miraculously stops, looking down at Ichi with intrigue as it holds itself still.

“You–”

Ichimatsu’s face twists, visceral hatred warping his brow into a scowl. His lip curls upward, baring his gritted teeth.

“YOU– IT’S YOU!” he screeches. “You’re the bridge-monster– you’re- you’re the sickfuck who hurt Jyushimatsu– AREN’T YOU?!”

Ichimatsu is seeing red, tears streaking down his cheeks as his arms tremble. He presses his hands further against the werewolf’s mouth, its sharp teeth ripping and tearing into his skin, one particularly long tooth puncturing straight through his hand. Sweat dripping down his temples and panting in the air. His blood dribbles into the werewolf’s mouth, he wants this demon to choke on it. He hopes it chokes and dies on his corpse, he’ll crawl out of hell to ensure he’ll haunt this fuck until it keels over or gets shot by the police. 

“STAY AWAY FROM MY FAMILY, YOU BASTARD!” Ichimatsu kicks his legs against the werewolf, sobbing as he hears Karamatsu weakly call his name from the grass. What if it already hurt Jyushimatsu, what if the reason they couldn’t find his backpack, couldn’t find him, was because it already killed him? What if Jyushimatsu is lying bleeding out somewhere in this forest? 

There’s still so many things that don’t make sense, a complete picture so close to being clear in his panic ridden head. 

Why did Jyushimatsu come out here, how does this relate to him…or is– is he–? 

It lets go of Ichimatsu with a guttural hiss, stumbling back on its hind legs. Both clawed hands clutch at its head as it sways, shaking violently - like it’s trying to rid itself of something crawling behind its horrible, blank eyes. A long, pained whine escapes its throat, warbling and raw. Ichimatsu crumples into the dirt with a gasp, his punctured hand twitching uselessly against his chest. Blood streaks down his arms onto the earth. He watches, dazed, as the creature staggers backward.

It slams into a tree and then another, nearly falling. It's growling at itself, like it wants to tear its own brain apart.

“rrStrrop...” it hisses, voice low and animal and fractured, like it doesn’t belong to a single thing. “Strrtop– STOP–!” The beast lets out a wail and throws its head back, howling at the moon, then sprinting into the wild treeline. The crashing fades into the woods.

Ichimatsu doesn’t move at first, barely breathing. His vision swims with pain and panic. His hand feels like it’s on fire. 

“K-Kara,” Ichimatsu chokes out, his voice is paper-thin. He stumbles to his feet, half-falling forward with the effort. His knees give, and he crawls the last few feet over dirt and blood damp grass until his hand brushes his brother’s still shape on the floor. He grabs his uninjured arm’s hand.

“Karamatsu!” he whispers, hoarse.

His brother’s chest is still rising– shallow and weak. Ichimatsu lets out a broken sound, part sob, part everything he’d been holding in since the monster showed up. Karamatsu's arm is bent wrong, pale bone jutting out where it should be connected to his shoulder, twitching slightly where blood soaks through his jacket and dyes it a dark, haunting hue. 

“ Oh- oh fuck– don’t die- don’t die– look at me, please- please, niisan-”

“...Ichi...” he croaks, barely audible. He’s still not looking at him in the eyes, he must have a concussion, suffering from blood loss as it carpets the ground and stains their pajamas. 

“I’m here,” Ichimatsu whispers. “I’m here, I’ve got you.” He scoops up Kara’s as gently as possible, blood sticky against his palms. He sets him down closer as Karamatsu cries out in pain, Ichimatsu taking off his jacket to press it against the gaping wound in his shoulder. He needs to stop the blood right? He– He needs to– 

Ichi crawls back over to where the phone landed, still casting its pale light skyward. He snatches it up with trembling fingers slick with blood and tears and sweat, almost dropping it as he fumbles to unlock the screen. 

The three simple numbers blur in his vision, but he finds them. 

“Ichi… don’t leave–” Karamatsu cries meekly for him. 

Ichimatsu gasps as hurries back over as the phone rings, he prays the service reaches this far. If there’s a God he’s scared he’s forsaken Him too long for any prayers matter. But he prays they’re merciful, that they’ll be merciful for his brother who saved his life– his worthless, terrible, life. 

Why, why did Karamatsu have to be so stupid? Why did he take the hit instead, what was he thinking?! There’s no way he was worth it, there’s no way he was worth bleeding out in a forest over. 

Ichimatsu cups Karamatsu’s face and feels his weak pulse beneath his thumb, “ I’m not, I’m here, I’m here– you don’t leave, okay? You stay with me, you stay alive, dammit! Keep– keep fighting-” He’s fucked up too much, the realization crushing on him now as hundreds of things unsaid erupt in the back of his throat.

The phone connects, a professional and calm voice crackling through the speaker.