Requested by an Anon on tumblr.
This is my first foray into the Osomatsu-san fandom, but definitely not my last! But I do apologize if it seems a bit rough around the edges.
Lying in the dark, he can hear them breath.
The deep, almost rattling exhales of Ichimatsu. The high-pitched, softer sounding ones from Totty. The almost imperceptible murmurs of Jyushimatsu talking in his sleep.
Osomatsu stares at the ceiling and listens to them, like he has never listened before.
His throat feels tight and his lungs burn, but he holds his own breath stubbornly. He just wants to lie and listen to the sounds forever. Doesn't want to drown it out with his own hitched inhales.
Because he had been living with the silence for just a few days, but it was already starting to feel like it had taken residence inside his head. A hole as real and tangible as the spaces left open at the dinner table.
The emptiness beneath the sheets of their worn futon where the bodies of his brothers used to lay, before...
Before they left-
He stops the thought, because what is the use? They were gone, but now they're back and that's all that matters, isn't it?
Except that it isn't, and it never will. Because maybe they are here now, but the bitter taste of their absence has stained his mind and Osomatsu isn't sure how to wash it away again.
And the insistent voice in the back of his mind isn't helping. Telling him this is just temporary. Just putting off the inevitable.
That sooner or later, they will all go and live normal, fulfilling lives, leaving him here to pick up the pieces of what once was them but now is just him.
The knowledge that he would never be able to function on his own frightens Osomatsu more than anything.
He breathes, slowly, to stave off the sobs building in his chest. His hand reaches out and he can feel Choro's back through the thin night shirt, the warmth his brothers give him.
The cold they leave behind when they're gone.
He feels himself shaking now, the sound of ruffling sheets, and Totty is pressing against his back, soft hair tickling against his bare neck.
And it's all Osomatsu can do to keep from crying.
He wants to stop time. He wants to reach out and hold them and keep them here forever. Confine them to his side, where they belong.
Always six, no matter the distance.
It's egotistical and spiteful, but Osomatsu truly thinks he can't live without them.
But clinging to them is selfish and letting them go is heartless so he just pushes. Pushes against them and himself and his thoughts and the pain and the feelings. Pushes until he can keep a straight face.
Even if letting them out of his sight has since become almost unbearable. If his heart skips a beat every time Choromatsu tells him about a new job opportunity. If he needs to bite his tongue, when Jyushimatsu bids his goodbye in the morning. If he clenches his fists, every time Karamatsu goes off on a tangent about finding true romance and riding off into the sunset.
Maybe he can convince himself he's just being a good elder brother. That these are not his own self-centered desires steering his actions. Clinging to them like a lifeline because their loss would be the same as drowning and really, without them, what is the point anymore?
His head pounds with the thoughts, and Osomatsu wishes he could just tell them. Could just spill it all out and get it over with.
But that's not how the Matsuno siblings work. They haven't functioned like that for a long time.
They are scathing remarks and harsh words and sharp edges. Cutting into each other relentlessly.
A surface of hate to hide the codependency.
Underneath that, the care and the worry and the consideration. The soy sauce passed without needing to be asked. The money lend without asking for anything in return. The shoulder to drunkenly lean on without the fear of falling over.
Brotherly love, deep and essential, running inside their veins. Invisible but present and raw and always, always unspoken.
But Osomatsu wants to say it out loud now, feels as if he needs to, as if the words are chocking him and they are drifting away and the chance is slowly passing him by.
Things are already irreparably changed, and he needs to do something before they are broken forever. Needs to tell them.
Trying to blink against the darkness in the room and not let it overwhelm him, Osomatsu knows he can't. Not out loud, at least.
But he can whisper it to himself now, hushed by their calming breathes and the heat of their bodies curled together beneath the blankets, sapping each other's warmth.
"Please never leave me again."
And maybe he can delude himself into thinking they will be alright.
Thank you for reading! Find me on tumblr: sharada-n