Juushimatsu doesn't know when to fight back.
It's not that he can't fight back—seriously, this kid has got so much strength he could send these jerks to the moon and back, if he wanted to. And it's not that he won't fight back—just last week he'd caught a group of upperclassmen pounding on one of his smaller classmates, and nobody had gone home that night without a bloody nose or black eye.
He just doesn't fight back. Not for his own sake.
It doesn't help that this is the first year he's been in a class separate from his brothers, either. He'd always had at least one of them to shout nasty things at those whispering even nastier things behind his back.
It's all really confusing to him, honestly. As far as he can remember, he's never done anything to provoke these people. He recalls the first few weeks of school, trying to match names with faces, greeting everyone as kindly as he could in the morning and feeling a little rush of happiness when he remembered a full name correctly. He'd used his –kuns and his –sans properly, smiled politely, bowed when appropriate. He doesn't know where he went wrong.
And he's kind of sad. He'd just wanted to make friends this year, but instead he feels alienated by his classmates—even the ones who aren't actively harassing him still avoid him like the plague. It's an unwelcome feeling when you've spent your whole life as one of six, with five others always there to back you up when things didn't turn out as planned.
But he doesn't want to get his brothers involved. They'd all congratulated him on being the first with a class to himself, clapped him on the back and told him how many girls he'd probably pick up, how many cool new friends he'd make. He'd wanted to make them proud.
Instead he's just lonely.
If you could describe Juushimatsu in a word, you might choose resilient. He's the light of the sextuplets, the quickest to bounce back up after a fall, always ready with a smile and a helping hand for the person behind him.
But lately he's finding it harder and harder to manage this persona. All the things that make him him are beginning to feel…hollow. Like he has to pretend to be happy. Which is hard, because he's never had to pretend to be anything before. He's always been genuine, and he's always been comfortable with who he is—he knows he's silly, loud, and sometimes a little destructive, but he's okay with all those things because his brothers have always loved him in the end.
He's scared to find out what will happen if he suddenly…isn't those things, anymore.
So he smiles on the way home from school and tells Osomatsu he had a good day, even though the girl two places in front of him at lunch had whispered, "Freaking weirdo," to her friend as if he wasn't standing right there. Even though his books had somehow mysteriously ended up in the trash during break. Even though all week he's heard, "Idiot," "Creepy," "Gross," "Can't believe I have to sit next to him," "I heard he has brothers, why couldn't we have gotten one of them instead?" Even though—
He's spacing out, and only realizes it when Ichimatsu taps him on the shoulder. "Hey," he murmurs, "is everything really okay? You were kinda frowning…"
"Ah!" he snaps the smile back into place, nodding fiercely. "Everything's good! Just thinking about homework…" he pulls an exaggerated gross face to punctuate this statement. Ichimatsu snorts, but drops the issue.
It's okay, he thinks, because no matter what happens he'll always have his brothers. Even if he has to pretend he's happy at school, it'll be okay because he'll still be loved at home. He can do this.
So he cherishes every little bit of time spent with his brothers, and dreads every moment spent in his classroom. He tries not to flinch when he hears laughter he knows is aimed at him. He pretends not to hear the whispers of the pretty girl he'd smiled at the first day, face now somehow twisted in ugliness as she says things he knows can't possibly be true—because why would his brothers love him if he's all the things she says he is?
He might be ugly. That would be okay—he and his brothers look the same, and in his opinion they all look perfectly fine, so that doesn't really matter to him.
And he might be stupid. He has a hard time in math and has never been particularly adept at English either, but it just means more time to spend with Choromatsu, who has served as his tutor since middle school. He likes to learn, and he likes the patient way Choromatsu lays everything out for him, so he really can't find anything wrong with that, either.
And he might be weird. That just means, well…maybe that's not good, after all. Maybe his brothers think he's weird, too. Do they…? Wouldn't they have said something by now? That would…hurt, a little, but they all have their faults, right? Nobody's perfect, after all…
And he might be annoying. But again…do his brothers think he's annoying? They couldn't possibly…why would they have put up with him for all this time, if…? Maybe because they have to? Just because they're brothers? That would…
He doesn't want to think about it anymore.
It's a Friday afternoon, which means the weekend is here! But it suddenly feels less…appealing, than it had in the previous weeks. Still, he goes to collect his things, which—a quick glance around the classroom reveals—aren't there. He checks the trash, the closet, even peeks behind the teacher's desk, and finds nothing. That's—his bag, his books, his blazer—all gone. He wonders how he'll be able to explain this to mom.
The other five all give him quizzical looks when he meets them outside the school. "Hey, where's all your stuff?" Osomatsu asks.
"Oh, I—" he hasn't had enough time to come up with a plausible lie yet, "—I lent a book to a friend, and forgot the rest. Sorry, niisan."
Osomatsu laughs a little at what he must assume is his scatterbrained younger brother's behavior. "It's okay—why don't you go get it? We'll wait for you."
Juushimatsu panics inwardly. "N-no, I don't need it. It can wait until Monday."
Osomatsu blinks, frowning slightly, but shrugs it off after a moment. "Okay, if you say so. Let's get going."
He's chilly in the autumn air, but doesn't dare shiver for fear of his blazer being brought up again. He hopes he doesn't catch a cold. That's the last thing his classmates need to get their hands on. He's already "Gross," apparently, and he can't imagine how bringing actual germs into the equation would help things.
He's quiet for the rest of the afternoon—he was assigned homework, but any hopes of turning that in on Monday have completely flown out the window. Out the window…maybe that's where his stuff had actually gone? He should've checked, though it's too late now…
They eat dinner as always, and he tries to insert himself into the conversation in his usual lively way, but his heart really isn't in it. He wonders if anyone can tell. He hopes not.
Bathtime is good. He likes the feeling of warm water on his skin and getting all clean, and he usually has a good time swimming around. Although…maybe that's one of those annoying things he does? Maybe he shouldn't do that anymore, in case it bothers his brothers. Maybe…
He hears someone scoot up behind him just as he's squeezing shampoo into his hand. "I'll wash your hair," it's Ichimatsu—and this is a rare offer, so he's really tempted to take him up on it.
But he should refuse. He doesn't want to be an inconvenience. "It's okay, Ichimatsu-niisan, you don't have to."
"I want to," Ichimatsu insists, and Juushimatsu doesn't know how else to respond but to transfer the shampoo into his brother's hand. It feels good to have someone else's fingers in your hair, scrubbing away not only the dirt but also the tension of the day. It's kind of funny—he remembers a time when he didn't really think much about tension at all. Lately it's been the only thing on his mind.
After a few moments, Ichimatsu leans in just a little bit closer, voice low. "Look, if you don't want to talk about it that's okay, but you've been different, recently. You don't seem…happy. If I'm wrong, then just forget about it, but otherwise…if you want to talk, I'll listen, is what I'm saying."
Juushimatsu feels his heart jump a bit at the realization he hadn't been as convincing as he'd thought. Still, he has to keep pretending, keep up this face so Ichimatsu won't think he's annoying. "It's really okay, Ichimatsu-niisan. Thank you, though."
And again, the issue is dropped.
When they get back home everybody seems pretty tired already, so they change into pajamas and Juushimatsu helps Osomatsu roll out the futon. He doesn't go through his normal routine of diving under then blankets, though—that's probably annoying and loud, too, and he doesn't want to do that anymore. He notices the confused expressions on his brothers' faces when he calmly slides into his spot in bed, but nobody seems to have anything to say.
Todomatsu turns the light off, and it's with a sick feeling in his stomach that Juushimatsu falls into a restless sleep.
He wakes to someone shaking him roughly by the shoulder. "Juushimatsu!" It's Choromatsu, who sounds panicked for some reason, "What's wrong?"
He hears another strange noise he can't pinpoint the source of. It's kind of like—oh. It's him. He's…crying. Actually, it's more than just crying, he's sobbing. He can barely see the room through blurry tears as someone switches the light back on, but what he can see is that—one, two, three, four—all of his brothers are sitting up, staring at him, obviously trying to figure out what the heck is going on.
He only cries harder as a result, hiding his face in his hands. They're going to think he's super annoying now. Nobody wants to be woken up in the middle of the night—and why is he even crying, anyway? He was only dreaming about…school. It wasn't even a particularly terrible dream, it was just…the pile of pranks and cruel words finally toppling over, and he's miserable, he really is, but he can't…
"Gosh, what's gotten into you?" Choromatsu asks, rubbing his back. "Did you have a nightmare?"
He shakes his head, because he didn't, really, it's just…
Osomatsu sits a few feet away, obviously trying not to crowd him. "You gotta tell us what's wrong, Juushimatsu, please. We'll help, okay?"
They can't—they won't be able to—but there's one thing…one thing he has to know, and he has to ask right now or he'll never work up the nerve to ask again.
He tries to steady his breathing, but it's a lost cause, so he forces it out between hitching sobs. "Do you—guys t-think I'm—a-annoying?"
Silence. He feels his heart drop into the pit of his stomach.
Until Ichimatsu is right next to him, arms wrapped around his body as tightly as he possibly can. "What made you even think that?"
"I—" but before he can respond, suddenly everyone is all over him, and he's squished in the middle of a big pile of Matsunos. And he sobs in relief when he realizes this is a no, they don't think he's annoying, they love him just like he thought, and he'd been worrying and worrying all this time over nothing.
"Juushimatsu-niisan," it's Todomatsu's voice, "out of all of us, you're the kindest. Why would we ever find that annoying?"
Collective nods. "And," it's Karamatsu, "you always want to spend time with us, and you take genuine interest in our hobbies."
"And you've got such a sunny personality it's infectious," Osomatsu.
"And you try so hard at everything you do," Choromatsu.
"And you know whenever one of us isn't feeling right, and you do your best to fix it," Ichimatsu. "We should've noticed something was wrong sooner."
More nods. "So do you wanna tell us how this started?" Osomatsu asks.
It's the dreaded question, but Juushimatsu sniffs, tries to slow his breathing as he's released from the tangle of limbs. "I—it's not a big deal, you guys. It's just…some kids at school don't really like me, and they say things, and none of you are in my class anymore, so I thought..." He looks around the room, watches as the pieces slowly come together for the rest of them.
"Okay, you know what?" Osomatsu decides, "You're not gonna have to worry about them anymore. We'll take care of it." A solemn pact is made among five brothers, but Juushimatsu isn't quite sure what it means.
"Osomatsu-niisan, what do you—"
"Don't worry about it."
On Monday, when Juushimatsu's classroom doors open to reveal five clones, all patiently standing in the back of the room—only moving just enough to offer dead-eyed stares to everyone who enters—the bullying, amazingly, comes to a screeching halt.
"I didn't know—"
"—you had—"
"—five twins."
"The term is sextuplets, actually," Juushimatsu clarifies—his own dead-eyed stare perfectly in place.
So maybe he won't get a cute girlfriend or make cool new friends to hang out with this year. He might not have anyone to visit after class or go over tomorrow's homework assignment with. But with his brothers there to meet him at the school doors every afternoon, he figures he probably doesn't need those things, anyway.