It went like this:
One night, Jyushimatsu and Todomatsu were walking together on the street. It doesn't really matter why. But Jyushimatsu was wearing his jumpsuit, and Todomatsu was wearing his nice clothes (that outfit he usually wore, whenever he wanted to look particularly nice), and Jyushimatsu was singing, very merrily and very loudly.
He was singing the song he and Karamatsu had sang that one afternoon on their roof, when Karamatsu had fallen to the ground and broke his wrist— that one about them being born together as sextuplets, or something like that. And he was trying to get Todomatsu to sing along with him, too, even though Todomatsu thought it was rather embarrassing: since while he did think Jyushimatsu was the least bothersome of his five older brothers, the song in and of itself was embarrassing enough, and the fact that Karamatsu was the one who wrote it in the first place didn't exactly help, when it came to that regard.
Not that it did much of anything, in convincing Jyushimatsu otherwise.
"Totty," Jyushimatsu sang, loudly. His younger brother scoffed and turned away slightly, rolling his eyes as Jyushimatsu bopped him lightly on the arm. "Why can't you sing with me? The lyrics are really really easy. Karamatsu-niisan wrote them."
"I know." Todomatsu didn't react much, to the nickname; simply turned away to peek at his phone, tapping animatedly and looking mildly annoyed, though not at Jyushimatsu. "It's just— Karamatsu-niisan wrote it. It's stupid and ridiculous."
"So?" Jyushimatsu made a tiny noise of a thinly-amused challenge, darting those finger guns of his at his brother. "Isn't it more fun like that? Plus I think you're a really good singer, Totty! It's a fun song, and it's a duet!"
A duet, as in a song that they could sing, together, just the two of them, together, and that fact alone seemed like testimonial enough for the older brother. Todomatsu though, didn't look entirely convinced.
"You can sing Karamatsu-niisan's part," offered Jyushimatsu, helpfully.
"No, thank you." Blowing a slight raspberry in what seems to be exhaustion, he swiped lazily at the screen. Jyushimatsu looked over at it, curious, and he saw that Todomatsu was playing that cute little bakery game, again. Jyushimatsu decided to keep talking.
"But I made up my own stuff for my part, you can't sing it. Karamatsu-niisan's part is easier, too!" Jyushimatsu leaned into his younger brother, who tipped to the side but didn't fall over, only faintly looking as if he was trying not to grunt from the weight. "Totty! Totty Totty Totty Totty— "
"No," Todomatsu stressed. He tapped at his phone, making his charms clack against each other like tiny plastic bells. "Ask someone else. I'm busy."
"Busy doing what?" Jyushimatsu looked at the phone, again, but the moment he noticed the screen was different Todomatsu spun on a heel, darting his hands up and away, bringing the phone out of sight.
"Nothing! Just— " Todomatsu dropped his hands, slightly. "—texting."
"Texting? Texting who?" Jyushimatsu leaned in a bit. "The Sutabaa girls?"
"I stopped talking to them a long time ago, nii-san," said Todomatsu bitterly, "and you know why."
"Hmm…" Jyushimatsu brought a hand to his chin (or where his chin was supposed to be; it was hard to tell, with the collar of his jumpsuit pulled up and over much his face) in thought. "Oh! What about Suzuno-chan?"
"'Suzuno-chan'?" echoed Todomatsu in a bit of a pout, now having pulled his attention from his phone and to his older brother. His expression was a cross between astonished and rather upset. "She lets you call her that?"
"Yeah!" Jyushimatsu tilted his head. "She doesn't let you?"
"No." Todomatsu stared at his phone, for a long moment, before his eyes hardened a little as he let out a little indignant huff. He resumed tapping at it, again. "And no, I'm not texting her, either. Choromatsu-niisan was wondering when we were coming home. Apparently there's something important."
"Really?" Jyushimatsu looked over at Todomatsu's phone, again, and this time Todomatsu let him see it, turning his wrist a bit so Jyushimatsu could take a peek at the most recent text. "Oh! Choromatsu-niisan sounds serious!"
"Doesn't he?" said Todomatsu rather distantly, taking back his phone and tapping at it idly before pocketing it away. "I told him that we were coming, soon , and that he needed to calm down." He let out a scoff, and tugged at his beanie, closing his eyes. "What's so important that it's making him freaking out like this? We were on our way home, anyway…"
Todomatsu's phone buzzed, again, but as Jyushimatsu made a move to take it Todomatsu said, "No, it's okay. It's probably just him yelling again."
"It could be important!" Jyushimatsu looked faintly concerned.
"Everything's important to him," Todomatsu scoffed, with a bit of an irritated frown. "Says that getting a job is important, and what happens? Unemployed as always." Crossed his arms after that, smirking victoriously. "And I was the first one to actually get a lasting job."
"Didn't you get fired?" the elder brother quipped, rather innocently. He played at his fingers behind his back.
"I quit," Todomatsu stressed, blowing small huffs from his nostrils, "there's a difference, nii-san. I couldn't have gone back after— after what happened!"
"Ahh, okay, okay." Jyushimatsu nodded vigorously— knew that Todomatsu really didn't like to talk about what happened, then, and that speaking anything more of it would only get him more irritated, and so he instead turned away silently to look over at the street. Meanwhile, Todomatsu pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes with a small cross of his arms, still a little heated from the affronted mentioned earlier. His phone buzzed again, but he decided to ignore it, talking over the notifications with a faux-monologue he rattled off to a not-really-paying-attention-Jyushimatsu.
"I mean— I was the first to get a job, wasn't I? The youngest! Sure, I quit, but that wasn't my fault. Wasn't like I had a choice, or anything. Besides, they can't really say anything about it, unless they get a job— and what happens? Nothing! They're all jobless! I guess— I am, too, but I was the first one to actually get a job." He ended with a flourish of crossed arms and an upturned nose, just to prove his point— before he noticed the unusual silence coming from Jyushimatsu (who usually interjected here and there, to throw in his own opinion, question, or agreement with a vicious "Yes!"), expression falling into something more concerned when he looked over.
"...Jyushimatsu-niisan?"
Jyushimatsu had that look, again— the one the brothers knew meant something was up, with the spirits that night. It was something they'd learned, over the years; sure, Jyushimatsu was the quirkiest of them all, and maybe his oddities were the hardest to understand, but when he had that look, and announced that warning— well. They knew went to listen.
Something darted up Todomatsu's back, something dark and cold and warped and wrong, knotting itself in his stomach and sending chills over everywhere. It was a feeling he didn't like, nor experienced all that often— after all, his sense was the weakest of the brothers, and he didn't exactly like to bother with the spirit world and its whims and eccentricities all that often— and he suddenly felt glad, that he was with Jyushimatsu. "What's wrong, nii-san?"
Jyushimatsu continued to stare, for a moment. Todomatsu tried to follow his gaze. He was looking, somewhere in the distance, at an unseen point in the crowd— one that Todomatsu couldn't pin down, exactly, narrowing his eyes all scrutinizing in an attempt to scan the crowd for something suspicious. It's times like these he wishes he could see these things better, so he wouldn't have to rely on his usually-incompetent brothers for something so fickle as safety, but he turns to his brother again and says, "Do— do you sense something?"
He said nothing, for a moment, and Todomatsu almost considered shaking him to make sure he was awake when Jyushimatsu said, "Nevermind. It was nothing."
It was hard to hide his alarm. "'Nothing'?!"
"Nothing!" And Jyushimatsu turned to his brother, beaming, as if nothing'd happened. "I just thought I felt something funny."
"'Something funny'?" echoed Todomatsu, his words drawing out uncertainty, an eyebrow perked up worriedly— but he decided to leave him be, turning away slowly though without keeping an eye out: both on his brother and the street before them. "Uh, sure, Jyushimatsu-niisan, whatever you say…" He turned back towards the street, closing his eyes. "Anyway. Choro—"
"Excuse me, boys. Do you two have a moment?"
They stopped. A woman stood before them, narrow-eyed and smiling politely, as if someone had strung a line between her cheeks, lips too tight and jaw too high. A purse dangled delicately from the crook of her elbow, small and dainty and clasped with hard gold; and she had a pair of sunglasses— sunglasses ?— at which she prodded at, pulling long strands of thick, brown hair out from behind its temples.
"Oh!" Todomatsu put on that front— the one he usually put on, when talking to women. "Hello, there."
"Hello back to you, too." She smiled, and tilted her head. Her waterfall hair rolled over to the side like a velvet curtain. Jyushimatsu was quiet.
"You two seem to be such nice children," she said, "willing to give a lost old lady like me directions. If you wouldn't mind— would you happen to know where the closest sushi joint is? I can't say I'm all that familiar with the city…"
"That's okay." Todomatsu looked over at his brother. "I'd love to take you, but…"
"But what?" Her head rolled over to the other side, like a matryoshka doll. He felt a little unnerved, like ice accidentally slipped down his back.
"We're on our way home," he explained. "It's late, don't you think? I could give you directions, though, if you'd like."
The woman blinked. "... oh, yes, of course. But I am terribly hungry. I don't suppose—"
"What do you want?" Jyushimatsu said, suddenly. Todomatsu startled, looking alarmed.
"Oh?" The woman's grin grew, stretching further than Todomatsu thought humanly possible. "What is it?"
"What do you want?" Jyushimatsu said again, firmly. His eyes were focused, and were locked upon her. "You don't need anything from us."
"Oh…" her voice drawled out, slow and old, like a purple molasses. Her head rolled slowly over again. "Oh, but that is where you're wrong. You are sorely mistaken, Matsuno-kun…"
"How do you know our name?" Todomatsu found his hand unconsciously at his brother's, ready to make a run for it if they had to.
She chuckled, pulling at her hair, at her sunglasses. Adjusted them so, till they could not see her gaze but instead feel it (and— Todomatsu noticed— he couldn't remember the color of her eyes, or how they even looked), and then she smiled at them, again.
"How do I know? I suppose the Akiyama clan has much to do with it. It's unfortunate how you've contacted them already. I guess I'm lucky, then, to have caught you here."
"You should go," said Jyushimatsu, a warning tone edging his voice. "You don't want any trouble."
"' I don't want trouble '?" echoed her voice hauntingly, a shudderingly perfect replica of his voice. Then, in her own, she said, "But who doesn't want some trouble, to spice up their life? Isn't it awfully boring without it…?"
"What do you want?" It's Todomatsu who spoke up, now, unable to hide the quiver from his voice.
"What I want?" And now her head stood up straight, and she clasped her hands together. She flashed her teeth— glistening pearls, sharp like the edge of a new saw.
"What I want," she said, looking at Jyushimatsu, "is you."
And then there was a pounce, and then there was some yelling, and then there was black and white and a flurry of something else, and Todomatsu remembered no more.
Choromatsu stared at the phone in his hands. The house was littered with salt circles and messy calligraphy and the occasional Christian rosaries, and they were sitting around the table in the living room. The house was draped over with a thick, tense silence, and something dark and morbid rolled like an inky river over their spirits.
"Maybe—" he stopped. Continued to stare, until he swallowed, loudly. "Maybe they got away. He might not be answering, because he just doesn't want to."
Ichimatsu said nothing. His companion padded restlessly across the floor.
Karamatsu looked worried. His hands were clenched into white fists, and were pressed tight into his lap.
It was beginning to rain. The pair of siblings stationed outside looked up, shielding their faces from the droplets that descended, staining their clothes like tears.
"Should we go back inside?" One shook out his pants, scowling a little.
"No." Eyes cast over to the house, lips pursing. "...I have a bad feeling about this."
Lightning zigzagged. Thunder rolled over the city.
And, in the distance, something was coming.
That is how it happened. A mistake, a stumble into darkness, into something sinister. Of course, though: that isn't how it started, either.
...let's go back.