Shockingly, Osomatsu is the first one to bring it up. He abandons his magazine one afternoon and turns to Choromatsu, currently engrossed in his own reading. "Hey—" he catches his attention, quickly glancing around the room to ensure they're alone. Choromatsu stares at him. "Have you, um…noticed anything sorta weird about Ichimatsu recently?"

Choromatsu thinks for a moment. "Now that you mention it, he has seemed more…distant? If that's even possible? For the past couple days, at least…"

Osomatsu nods. "Yeah, and he doesn't get angry at anything either, not even when Karamatsu's doing something stupidly painful. Do you think something's wrong?"

"I don't know…" Choromatsu sighs. "It's hard to just come out and ask him, but he doesn't usually tell us these things on his own."

"Should we let it go?" Osomatsu is unhappy with his own suggestion, but really doesn't know what else to suggest. Approaching Ichimatsu is a task not for the faint of heart, especially when they have no idea what to expect as a response.

Choromatsu shrugs. "For the time being, that's probably safest. He could be in one of those strange moods he gets into sometimes, and he usually doesn't like us meddling in his business. Hopefully it's just a passing issue that will resolve itself."

Osomatsu hums, but he doesn't have any better ideas, so they agree to leave it alone for now. With any luck, it'll go away on its own without their intervention.

Except it doesn't go away.

Ichimatsu grows quieter and quieter as the week drags on, and then he's barely picking at his food at mealtimes, and the dark bags beneath his eyes only grow darker. And Osomatsu knowshe doesn't think anybody notices, but he sometimes gets this look on his face—not blank or apathetic like usual, but worried, or maybe sad. It's unnerving and unnatural, and every ounce of big brother instinct he has is screaming at him to do something about it, to fix it, except he doesn't know how.

Finally, he can't stand it anymore, and marches over to Ichimatsu's corner, plopping down beside him. They're alone, which is a rarity, so this might be his only chance. "Hey," he offers by way of greeting. Ichimatsu glances up at him, but says nothing. Then comes the hard part. "Look, you've been acting kinda strange recently, and I was just wondering…is everything okay?" He fully expects to be blown off, or yelled at, or any other typical Ichimatsu response. What he gets instead is somehow much worse.

Ichimatsu looks down and away, trying to hide his expression. "It's…nothing. Nothing you could help with, anyway. It'll be fine." He sounds more like he's trying to reassure himself than Osomatsu, though.

"But I wanna know. It's obviously important to you, so it's important to me, too," Osomatsu tries to coax. He knows this is a somewhat hypocritical statement that he definitely hasn't lived up to in the past, but at this particular moment he couldn't care less. This is no time to worry about keeping up appearances.

A long pause. "Well, if you really wanna know…" Ichimatsu swallows hard, turns further into to corner as if hiding himself will somehow make the problem go away. "There's…a cat, and I've kinda been taking care of her for a while. Um, you've probably seen her, she's been here before—a gray one, with black stripes and white paws?"

Osomatsu had never honestly paid enough attention to remember this specific cat, but he nods anyway.

"Anyway, um, she's…she stopped coming around after a while, so I went looking for her, and she's…it's bad. I can tell. She's sick. She's skin and bones, and she won't eat anything I try to give her. She still tries to be affectionate, but she's…dying. I know she is. And I don't have the money to take her to the vet…and it's not like it would matter anyway because she's too far gone, and what's the point in spending money on something you know is just going to die right away no matter what you do, and she's just a street cat, so it's not like it should matter, but it matters to…me…" He runs out of breath, and then a look of horror passes across his face as he realizes what he's said out loud. He buries his head in his knees so he doesn't have to look at his older brother. "It's stupid," he mumbles, face hidden, "I'm stupid. It's just a stray cat. It's fine." Again, it's the least convincing argument Osomatsu's ever heard.

He feels his heart break for his little brother, so gentle underneath the barriers he puts up around himself. He makes a decision then. "Let's go find her."

Ichimatsu looks up, eyes wide. "What?"

"Let's find her," he repeats, "right now. We can keep her here until she…" he can't bring himself to say it. "If she's not in pain, it should be okay. And if she is, I'm sure everyone would be willing to pool money together so the vet can…take care of her." They both know what that means, and a heavy silence hangs between them.

After a moment, Ichimatsu breaks it. "You would…you don't think everyone will freak out? I've…this isn't the first cat I've watched die. It's not fun."

"But it's important to you."

Ichimatsu opens his mouth, closes it again. It seems like he wants to argue, but…eventually he nods, allowing Osomatsu to pull him to his feet.

And so they go.

It's not a long search. Ichimatsu knows exactly where they'll find her—curled up in a cardboard box beside the dumpster in the alley near the train station.

She's not a pretty sight.

Ichimatsu was right, Osomatsu thinks, as he watches his younger brother tenderly scoop the ragged creature into his arms. She's not long for this world, and it hurts his heart to see the bitterly resigned look on Ichimatsu's face as he comes to the same conclusion.

"Does she have a name?" he asks, feeling slightly relieved—and a little guilty—when Ichimatsu shakes his head.

"It's easier this way."

They walk her home in relative silence. It's clear she knows Ichimatsu well—she purrs a raspy little purr and falls asleep in the warmth of his arms almost immediately.

When they arrive home, they're greeted by Choromatsu and Karamatsu, home from their own daily activities. As soon as Choromatsu spots the cat, he mouths, "Is that…?" at Osomatsu, who only nods.

They wait until everyone is home to explain the whole situation. Ichimatsu doesn't speak at all, allowing Osomatsu to take the stage in his stead. There's a beat of silence after he's done talking, grim faces all around the room.

It's Juushimatsu who speaks up first. "So we have to keep Ichimatsu-niisan's friend happy until she goes," is his simple statement.

Osomatsu sighs. "That's about the gist of it, yeah."

"We can do that!" and the typical smile returns. "Everybody will help, right?"

A hesitation—then, almost simultaneously, everyone nods. And that's the end of the discussion.

They swing into action, all feeling the need to do something, but not quite knowing what to do. After a few minutes, Karamatsu returns with a box. "It's, um…she'll need somewhere to sleep, right?" he asks, eyebrows knit together.

Ichimatsu nods, more focused on stroking the tiny head lying in his lap than anything else.

Choromatsu brings in a can of cat food and a little bowl of water. "I know Osomatsu-niisan said she wasn't eating, but…" he digs in his pocket, comes up with a plastic spoon and an eyedropper, "we could try, one more time, and maybe get her to drink a little water."

"Here, I have—" Todomatsu returns from the hall, carrying an armful of towels. But he pauses, looks at the scene before him. "No, that wouldn't be right, hang on…" he exits the room again, and reappears just as quickly with a pink fleece blanket Ichimatsu knows to be one of his own.

"Do you mean—?"

Todomatsu nods. "Yeah, it's fine. It's only a blanket. She should be as comfortable as possible, right?"

Ichimatsu gapes, then, as something clicks in his brain, he slams his face into the crook of his elbow. "Ah, fuck. Shit. God," he complains. Osomatsu is momentarily worried he's the only one who hears the cracked edge to his voice, but everyone else has halted in place as well. "You guys are—this isn't—I didn't want you to—"

Karamatsu looks about ready to cry, Choromatsu is gnawing on his lower lip nervously, Todomatsu appears stunned, and Juushimatsu…slowly walks towards his older brother, dropping down on his knees behind him. "It's okay, Ichimatsu-niisan," he smiles, wrapping his arms around his hunched shoulders.

Ichimatsu takes in a deep, shuddering breath, lets it out slowly before lowering his arm. "It's okay," he repeats after Juushimatsu. "Just…thanks. For her sake. Since this is going to suck for all of you guys, too."

And he's right, it does suck. Choromatsu takes the first turn as Ichimatsu reluctantly relinquishes the cat into his arms. She's so thin, and her eyes are cloudy when she blinks up at him in confusion—but she still reaches out a tiny paw to bat at the string of his hoodie. He falls in love and begins to grieve at the same time.

She doesn't eat, but allows him to carefully drip enough water into her mouth to make it worthwhile.

At the same time, Karamatsu and Todomatsu work on creating a bed for her. "Ah, this doesn't seem like enough padding on its own," Karamatsu frowns at the blanket. "Maybe if you got those towels again, this could go on top?"

Todomatsu agrees, running to retrieve the towels. They ever so carefully line the inside of the box, fleece blanket on top, until they agree it's a bed fit for a queen.

Juushimatsu gets his turn with her next, as Choromatsu leaves the room under the guise of having something caught in his eye. Though the fifth brother is somewhat of a wildcard, he knows how to be gentle when it counts, and is given the painstaking task of cleaning her. He cautiously combs through her thinning fur, using a damp cloth to wipe off the dirt she'd accumulated since becoming too weak to groom herself. "She's nice and pretty now!" he announces, holding her out proudly for Todomatsu to examine.

"That's great, Juushimatsu-niisan," he opens his palms, allowing him to place the cat in his hands. She squirms a little until he pulls her to his chest, where she begins purring almost immediately. "She's actually really soft…" he marvels, stroking between her ears with two fingers. "Do you want to feel, Karamatsu-niisan?"

Karamatsu hesitates, looks in Ichimatsu's direction for permission. Receiving no indication either way, he figures it's most likely safe and nods, taking the cat from Todomatsu. She rubs her face against the front of his sweatshirt, and, when he reaches to pet her, tilts her head just enough to lick him with her raspy little tongue. His eyes fill with tears, but anyone who notices pretends not to see.

Eventually, though, they need to turn in for the night, and Karamatsu regretfully places the cat in her makeshift bed—strategically positioned in the warmest corner of the room.

Dressing for the night is a solemn process, since nobody knows what the next day will bring. Everyone takes one last look in the box, watching the slow but steady rhythm of the cat's breathing, before retiring to the futon. Ichimatsu lingers for a few seconds longer than his brothers—mumbles a little goodbye, just in case—before joining them in bed. The light clicks off.

Nobody wakes up the next morning feeling anything less than stressed, but all is well when they see Osomatsu sitting next to the box, running a hand down the cat's bony spine. "She was awake, and she seemed lonely," he explains, trademark grin on his face.

With Ichimatsu's permission, the cat remains with Osomatsu during breakfast, though he relinquishes her to Choromatsu afterwards so he can try to feed her again. No such luck, but she certainly seems thirsty, so it's not a complete loss.

Then, as unofficial owner of the cat, Ichimatsu receives her. She mewls, recognizing his familiar scent, and he carries her gently as he retreats to the side of the room.

It's awkward. Nobody knows whether they should stay in case something happens, or…

"You guys can go," Ichimatsu waves them off. "It's not like hanging around here will make a difference."

So, slowly, everyone shuffles out, though not without casting guilty looks at the fourth brother and his doomed friend.

Osomatsu, however, chooses to stay—under the explanation that he wanted to laze around at home anyway. Ichimatsu just shrugs, returns to stroking the cat. Osomatsu grabs a magazine. He's read through it like six times already, but Ichimatsu doesn't know that, of course. He figures someone ought to be here. His brother shouldn't be left alone if…

They'll cross that bridge when they come to it.

For now, it's a lazy afternoon-turned-evening spent mostly in silence. Osomatsu reads, makes the occasional comment or two on something he sees in the pages. He receives short answers in response, but doesn't mind. Ichimatsu pets the cat, watches it sleep, falls asleep himself for about an hour, resumes petting the cat…it's not a terrible way to spend a day, in Osomatsu's opinion.

In fact, he can feel himself beginning to doze off as well. He rolls over onto his back, throwing an arm across his eyes to block out the fading light from the sunset coming in through the window. He remains like this, relaxing to the ambient sounds from outside, and is barely teetering on the edge of unconsciousness when he hears, "Oh."

He sits straight up, whipping his head around, a sense of dread filling the pit of his stomach. Still, he tries to keep his voice steady. "What do you mean, 'oh'?"

"She, uh…" Ichimatsu sounds dazed, "…she stopped breathing."

Oh no.

"I, uh…" his lips move silently for a few seconds, "I…didn't even notice, at first. She was breathing so slow, it just seemed like a long pause. But she's definitely not…" He looks down, realizing he's been stroking her back this entire time, "Oh, I guess I don't really need to…anymore…" but he doesn't stop.

Osomatsu's up and at his side at lightning speed. But he realizes quickly he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't…he really can't do anything, can he? This is the awful unavoidable conclusion to this two-day chapter in their lives. There was no way to stop it, he just didn't expect it to be so…soon? He'd thought they'd at least have a couple days. But some part of his brain had completely ignored the "what do we do when the end actually comes?" question in favor of…avoiding it. Because it was too upsetting to think about then, but now that it's here he can't think of anything at all.

He has no way of knowing what's going through Ichimatsu's mind. He's got that same resigned look he'd had when they'd taken her from the alley only yesterday. He's been watching this cat die for at least a week—maybe longer—and would have done so with or without Osomatsu's presence. This is what he knew was coming.

Still, that doesn't sit right with Osomatsu. He clears his throat. "Do you, um…want me to call the others?"

Ichimatsu sighs. "You don't have to, I can take care of her." He doesn't move from his spot.

"I wasn't saying you couldn't, I just…I think they'd like to say goodbye, too. If that's okay with you."

"Oh…" Ichimatsu pauses, as if he hadn't considered that. "I guess…yeah. They all got to meet her, and they helped make her comfortable last night, so she'd probably like that, too…"

So Osomatsu makes the same phone call four times, receives four different reactions, but comes to four of the same conclusions. He pockets his phone. "We're gonna all meet up in the park, if that's okay…nobody should be around at this time, and that will be a good place for her, right?"

Ichimatsu nods stiffly.

The walk to the park is quiet. Osomatsu doesn't know what to say, watching Ichimatsu clutch the closed box to his chest. His face is blank again, which somehow makes it worse. Osomatsu looks down at the shovel clutched in his hands, wondering how he could possibly apply his "world's greatest big brother" skills to something like this.

When they arrive, everyone has already gathered around the bench by the swing set. All eyes are on the cardboard box.

Finally, Choromatsu asks, "So, Ichimatsu…where do you want to…?"

Without a word, Ichimatsu leads them all over to a small gathering of trees, away from all the activities the park has to offer. He stops in front of one of them. "This should be…nobody will disturb her, this way." Though it's entirely his decision, he glances around anyway, as if seeking confirmation. They all nod.

Juushimatsu takes the shovel from Osomatsu and, without any of his typical zeal, begins to dig a hole. They watch as it grows deeper and deeper. Somebody sniffs, another one coughs. Juushimatsu continues to dig.

Finally, it's deep enough to leave a good two feet of dirt overtop so nobody will accidentally uncover her. Ichimatsu kneels, leaning forward to place the box at the bottom of the hole—but then someone grabs his shoulder.

"Wait," it's Karamatsu, "um, this might be…you don't have to, I mean, but…could you let us see her? To um—s-say goodbye?" his voice breaks.

Osomatsu half expects Ichimatsu to get mad, but instead he sits back on his heels. "Oh, you wanna…yeah, that's okay. Here," he offers the box to Karamatsu, who takes it with trembling hands.

He lifts the lid off, revealing her tiny curled form to the world again. He reaches in as if to touch her, but pulls his hand back at the last second, shaking his head. His nose is running, and a tear rolls silently down his cheek. "I'm—shit. T-totty, you wanna see her?"

Shaken by his brother's reaction, Todomatsu takes the box, but is surprised. She looks almost peaceful—like she's taking a very long, very still nap. He forces a little smile, waves his fingers goodbye to her, and passes the box to Juushimatsu.

Juushimatsu grins at her, is the first one to say something out loud. "It was nice to meet you, ma'am! Thank you for letting me clean you up, you look very pretty now! Good luck!" he bows. When he raises his head he's still smiling, but his eyes are shining.

Choromatsu gets his final goodbye next, staring at her for what feels like a long time before saying, "You…you tried your best, even at the end. I think that was v-very brave…" Both eyes are streaming tears now, and he gives her one gentle touch on the forehead before passing her to Osomatsu.

Her appearance is not a shock, because he'd been there when Ichimatsu had placed her into the box. Still, it's hard to believe that this thing was alive yesterday and this morning and just a few hours ago and now she's…not. He gnaws on the inside of his cheek, amazed that Ichimatsu had ever been able to do this alone, considering how horrible it is even with all of them there. He doesn't say anything, but gives her one final nod before passing her back to Ichimatsu.

Ichimatsu looks down at her for just a moment, then closes the lid. He carefully lowers her into the grave. "Juushimatsu, can you…?"

The fifth brother nods, begins piling soil overtop of the box. Soon, it's invisible beneath the dirt, as if she'd never been there at all.

Karamatsu gives up the battle to not cry and buries his face in his hands, long shuddery breaths punctuated by miserable little vocalizations he can't seem to control. Choromatsu's been crying this whole time, soundlessly, and had apparently come prepared—he pulls a tissue packet out of his pocket and offers one to his older brother. Even Todomatsu is starting to sniffle, eyes wet, and he readily accepts the hug Choromatsu offers with open arms. Juushimatsu gives the soil a final pat and joins the group, pulling Karamatsu in with him, and now they're all crying and grieving and holding each other over the extinguished little life they'd met only the day before.

Osomatsu's chest hurts. He doesn't know what to do, what to say to make any of this better, and he feels so helpless he just—

Something bumps against his side.

It's Ichimatsu. Somehow Osomatsu had forgotten he was even there, caught up as he had been in watching the other four.

"Hey, Ichimatsu…" he greets awkwardly, "are you—"

"Don't tell the others," Ichimatsu mutters, and Osomatsu doesn't have a chance to figure out what he's not supposed to tell them before Ichimatsu mashes his face into the crook of his neck, hands fisted tightly in the back of his sweatshirt. He's shuddering, and Osomatsu feels wetness on his skin. He's crying.

Ichimatsu is crying.

Osomatsu pulls him in closer, one hand rubbing soothingly up and down his back. "It's okay," he murmurs, "I won't."

He doesn't have to, after all. They all notice within a minute, untangling themselves from each other and re-tangling themselves around Ichimatsu and Osomatsu.

"This is—" Ichimatsu gasps, "—this is why I didn't want—"

But the hug only grows tighter, the crying only grows louder, and Osomatsu, who had tried to remain strong all this time, ends up joining in despite his best efforts. They're mourning for a life that could have been but wasn't, for the cruelty of nature, and—for five of them—for their brother who thought he had to keep this suffering hidden from them.

As all things must, their sobbing ultimately comes to an end. They gradually detach, leaving them all drippy-nosed and blotchy-cheeked and red-eyed. Choromatsu hands out tissues—some require more than one—and they slowly begin to make their way home.

By popular consensus, Ichimatsu sleeps in the middle of the futon that night.