One Week Prior

It was a Friday afternoon, and Matsuno Todomatsu had won at pachinko.

Suffice to say, he wasn't exactly sure of what to do. But what he did know, though, was that he had two options: one, to find an actual, functional, effective hiding place and use it, fast, and never get back to it in what may be weeks or even months— or two, to throw away his dignity and fish up the winnings to his brothers. There was, technically, a third option (if the first one didn't work, or if he delayed either), but— he doesn't really want to think about that one.

The day was rather usual, for one approaching the end of a midsummer week. When he'd left the Pachinko Dragon— his bag of bills clutched protectively tight to his chest— the air about him hovered anxiously with moisture, and the sunlight tickled his nose with warm gold, throwing long, dark shadows behind the buildings and setting their faces into a blinding glare. It was late-afternoon— unusually early for him, as he'd usually find himself coming home well past sundown, though Todomatsu figured that could potentially work in his favor— and he suspected that his brothers would be arriving home soon.

With that being said, getting there before them would be ideal.

And so Todomatsu was light on his feet on the route ways home, having settled into a bit of a trot after the thirty second sprint out the sliding glass doors; an eagle spirit soared just overhead, gliding off in the same direction as he was (and— there's a little tap of alarm in Todomatsu, for he's never been able to see all that many spirits in the first place): and he locked his eyes on it, to help tune in his concentration, the way he'd fix his eyes on some distant building whenever he was out on a cardio jog all those Sunday mornings.

The eagle disappeared after ten minutes, tipping a wing eastwards before dipping off into the darkening sky, and he slowed down into a light jog, then a steady walk, body relaxing as he continued on his way; at the pace he was going, Todomatsu guessed, he'd arrive home in about five minutes. Offering small waves to the occasional passersby (including a pair of siblings, a middle-school aged boy and a young adult girl— to whom he tossed a bit of a wink, receiving back a pair of astonished, bugging, half-glaring eyes from the girl and a badly-stifled giggle from her brother), he hummed a little to himself until he rounded the corner, to where his house was sandwiched between two buildings.

As he arrived at the front, he slowed to a stop, feet halting just before the door; Todomatsu had noticed that the lights were on inside, and when he stopped, he heard the voices of— three of his brothers? It seemed to be Osomatsu, Choromatsu, and Jyushimatsu playing cards, from the sound of it. And he frowned, deeply, the bag of winnings limping slightly in his grip.

Well, that wasn't good. He didn't have time to find even a half-suitable hiding place to temporarily stash it away before finding someplace more secure and permanent, with three of his brothers present. Todomatsu stood there, paralyzed for a moment as he racked his thoughts for a course of action: until, in a flash of impulse, he stuffed the bag under his sweater, felt the crinkles of its coarse cloth on his bare chest, pulled down his pink hem and made his way inside.

He shifted uncomfortably as he crossed the living room, eyes darting away from the commotion at the table as Osomatsu, Choromatsu, and Jyushimatsu sat situated around it, glaring each other down from above the messy pile of turned over cards in the middle. From the looks of it, Todomatsu guessed they were playing BS, and it seemed as if Jyushimatsu was winning, and that Osomatsu was sourly behind. To his surprise, Ichimatsu was there, too, hanging out in his usual place in the corner, that spirit-cat by his side as always.

"Hey there, Totty," greeted the eldest brother, pulling idly at the strings of his red hoodie as he scrutinized the dozen-or-so cards in his hand, turning them this way and that— as if, somehow, that would change anything.

"Totty!" Jyushimatsu said, looking up from his two cards; a two of spades and a two of hearts, Todomatsu noted from behind him. "You're home!"

He ignored the nicknames with a scowl, and turned his head away as he made his way forward. "Hey."

"Hey," Choromatsu tossed back, seemingly indifferent with the way the game was going— though he was a little flushed with red, wiping at his forehead as he looked down at his own handful of cards. He cast his gaze up at the youngest brother, and narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing?"

Todomatsu startled— perhaps a bit more violently than he should had. "N— nothing."

"Didn't you say you were going to the gym?" Osomatsu still wasn't looking up, and only spoke to Todomatsu at a distance; it was his turn, now, and after a brief moment of hesitation he patted down four with a smug smile. Choromatsu scoffed and bent over the table, palms scuffing around the pile before he shoved it at the eldest brother, not even bothering to turn over the top card. Osomatsu took it sheepishly, with a rub of his nose and a bit of a tentative chuckle, before turning his head towards Todomatsu. "Aren't you a little late?"

"Where's your gym bag?" said Jyushimatsu, loudly, with the incriminating question. Ichimatsu, meanwhile, said nothing; simply stared at the youngest brother, though it wasn't without, Todomatsu noticed, a hint of curiosity. He cringed, and didn't reply.

"Oh? No gym bag?" Osomatsu put down his cards, lending his full attention to the youngest brother. Something twinkled in his eyes, and Todomatsu immediately decided he didn't like it. "Where did you come from, then?"

"Nowhere!" Todomatsu said quickly. He felt that he should've left, right there and then, but his feet were planted into the floor.

"What's that under your sweater?" Ichimatsu finally spoke up, voice muffled from where he spoke into his sleeves. Osomatsu, Choromatsu, and Jyushimatsu all looked curious— though Todomatsu could never miss that glint of malice in their eyes, he thought with a gulp— and all turned their gaze to him, finally noticing the slight bulge in his sweater. Osomatsu propped his elbow on the table, set his chin on a fist, and smiled.

"Nothing—!" and then Todomatsu swallowed, and pressed his eyes closed. After a moment, he released a tense breath, and pulled the (now crinkly) bag of winnings out and chucked it at them. He then quickly turned away with a teary, petulant huff, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"There you go! Happy now?! Stupid older brothers—!"

"Nice!" Osomatsu whistled, sounding impressed, and he leaned over the table and snagged the bag from where it had landed at Jyushimatsu's side. Ignoring Choromatsu's stammered sound of protest, he retreated back with hands fishing through the bag's insides, inspecting its contents with a wide grin and arched eyebrows. Pulling out a bundle of thousand-yen bills he said, "Wow! You really hit the jackpot, Totty!"

"Thanks," deadpanned Todomatsu, expression a cross between gravely distressed and distantly annoyed. "I'll just. Be upstairs, then…"

"Thanks for sharing!" Jyushimatsu said, peering in the bag after Choromatsu had silently taken a few handfuls, and Todomatsu glared at him for a moment before sighing, loudly, turning towards the stairs.

As the youngest brother made his way to their room, he heard Choromatsu say, "Ichimatsu, do you want any?"— followed by an only somewhat-audible grunt from the fourth brother, a shuffling, then what Todomatsu recognized as the sound of bills being passed around before there was a small sound of thanks. He scowled a little deeper, and huffed indignantly to himself as he reached the top, sliding the door open to their room with a bleating sigh.

By now the sun had waned a little more, throwing ribbons of purple and red and orange across the sky behind a simmering yellow sun, and Todomatsu opened the windows to catch the last rays of sunshine before it got completely dark, too lazy to turn on the light just yet. Breathing in the fresh gust of air, he set his arms upon the windowsill, resting his chin on them as he faced the sunset, closing his eyes.

"Hmm…" There was a low groaning sound, from the pile of pink sweater at the window. It'd be an understatement, to say that he was upset with his circumstances. Frankly, he'd been less than willing to have given out his winnings so freely, but from previous experience he's learned that it was best to let it go before Osomatsu or Ichimatsu or Choromatsu or whoever started shooting at him, or something, donned in that ridiculous police costumes as they chased him down like some sort of criminal.

(Ridiculous, he says, and then he gets the shit beat out of him— on top of getting all his winnings snagged away.)

But still. He'd been invigorated at the prospect of hope, having finished early with the sliver of a chance to actually keep his more-than-usual winnings for once at hand, and the fact that he'd lost— and the whole act of fishing it over was shamefully anticlimactic, with Osomatsu even cutting in halfway to admire what Todomatsu had won before taking it all for himself— was terribly embarrassing, and a scandalous blow to his ego.

God. Todomatsu just wants to die with his dignity right now. He burrowed deeper into his sweater and sighed, again.

There was a bit of a ruffle, and, startled, Todomatsu opened his eyes to see the spirit eagle just an arm's length away from him. It was sitting on the roof, leaning from side to side, and it was staring at him.

Todomatsu blinked. "...ah, hello, there."

It leaned over to the other side, and blinked back at him. Todomatsu's breath stilled, a little, as he lifted his head to peer at it— him? her? they? he couldn't tell— as it scuttled (for that was the best word Todomatsu could pick, for the way it inched its way towards it, one claw after the other) over and stopped to stare back, head leaning in.

He leaned his head back, in response, eyes fluttering rapidly in mild alarm, unable to exactly process what was going on, or how to exactly respond. It retreated back; and so he came forward, again. Silence, for a moment, as the two— man and spirit— eyed each other down, until the eagle let out a loud squack.

"Gh—!" Todomatsu winced; the eagle seemed to not exactly understand the notion of personal space— or, at least, the appropriate and polite distance one should keep from others if they wished to belt out something as loud as that— and his hearing began to ring; he pressed a palm to his ear, right eye partially closed and lined with pained tears, and turned his ear away slightly as he knit his eyebrows accusingly at the bird.

"That was rude," said Todomatsu, sternly, sounding rather serious. Odd, how he's speaking so earnestly to a spirit; being, in technical terms, the 'weakest' of the siblings when it came to sensing spirits, whittled away at whatever kind of interested he had with interacting with them in the first place— the real world was more attractive, anyway, with its interesting things and people to talk to, instead of the usually malevolent spirits who usually tried to kill you, in one way or another. Sure— maybe some people tried to kill you, too, but it wasn't most of everyone and they could never be as terrifying as black soul blobs who had the ability to possess you, if they had the knack for that.

But the eagle spirit-thing (what was he supposed to call it in the first place, anyway? The only other animal-like spirit he was familiar with was Ichimatsu's own, though he already had a name; this one just came along uninvited, out of nowhere) seemed friendly enough, obstreperous cacophony of a bird-yell aside; it hadn't tried to attack him, from what he's noticed, and all its done was simply fly and yell and claw its way around his roof, and stare at him with those beady eyes.

"Don't do that," Todomatsu continued, feeling faintly stitled at the sentiment of talking so casually to a spirit; "that— really hurt. Okay?"

Did it even understand him in the first place? He didn't want to think about that, to preserve what little ego he had left from the little instance from just earlier that day, if it turned out that he was talking to what most people would probably see as air and didn't even understand him, anyway, declaring the whole thing as null and void, as well as embarrassing— but it saved him the misery when it took a couple of tentative steps back, dipping its head forward in what, if looked at just right, could be interpreted as an apologetic bow.

Todomatsu quirked an eyebrow, looking at its lowered head with a mild curiosity. "...hey, you don't have to apologize," he finally said, after a moment. "Just… don't do it again."

And it picked up its head, at that, and blinked twice at him. Something in him told him that the gesture was affirmative, somehow— but something embarrassed burned in his chest at the thought, and so Todomatsu immediately inundated it with a good heap of ego and dignity, reducing it to a sputtering heap of soaked lumber.

But, nonetheless, Todomatsu couldn't help but feel a little fond, for the eagle; after a moment of consideration he gingerly extended his hand before, twitching his index finger in a gesture of invite. He didn't know what to expect from it, exactly, but after it'd shifted its attention to his hand, then his face, then to his hand, then to his face, and back and forth a few more times— it shifted forwards, a little, and pressed its beak (or— at least a spirit eagle's equivalent to a beak) to his palm.

Something foreign fluttered in Todomatsu's chest— and he blinked, a couple of times, eyes wide as he stared at the bird; its own eyes were closed, now, as it seemed content with using Todomatsu's palm as some sort of pillow, rubbing it now with the sides of its head and tilting its head up in what Todomatsu guessed was a request for a neck scratch. He complied, and turned over his palm, still a bit unsure as he softly brushed a knuckle through the soft feathers (or feather-like whatever it was; spirits were weird, that way) of the bird; it seemed to like that, and pulled in closer for more.

As Todomatsu gingerly ran his nails softly down the line of its back, the bird shivering slightly in pleasure, he was getting more than several recollections of Ichimatsu's own companion (Nobu, wasn't it?); the curious friendliness, compared to most spirits they've encountered, and the cat-like mannerisms, of which Todomatsu isn't sure is normal for a bird— and an eagle, nonetheless. Maybe being a spirit and all has something to do with it, he supposes; they were pretty weird, anyway, and something as fickle as acting weirdly cat-like, compared to soul-sucking and body possession, really wasn't all that impressive, nor worth any real note.

But, at the moment, Todomatsu couldn't bring himself to mind all that much, instead resting his head back on the windowsill as he continued to pet the bird. Ignoring the commotion downstairs (he'd been setting aside a part of his consciousness to listen in on what was going on, as per usual, to keep track of most of the ins and outs of his brothers' antiques; the past few minutes were rather heated, from what he could tell, with Osomatsu and Choromatsu loudly accusing each other of cheating, Jyushimatsu contributing his part of the conversation with disjointed yelling only somewhat related to the conversation at hand), Todomatsu let the calm settle into his chest, rather tickled by the curious tranquility of the moment. For a moment, he considered inviting it in, when—

"Totty!"

And it was gone, in a flurry of feathers and the loud beating of wings. Todomatsu turned to see Osomatsu barging in, sweeping open the door with a grin and Todomatsu's bag of winnings.

"Totty!" said Osomatsu again, tromping across the room to his younger brother, coming down to his knees to waggle the bag in Todomatsu's face. "We played poker with your winnings— and guess who won…!"

"You did," said Todomatsu flatly. He looked out the window, feeling himself deflate a little.

"I did!" giggled Osomatsu, absolutely childishly, as he jumped back to his feet, tapping the floor giddily with his toes and sending a reverberation through the floorboards— one to which an irritated Choromatsu yelled back up at, to shut his damn cheating mouth, or whatever. He sounded upset.

Todomatsu pulled his arms away from the window and turned to face his older brother, a frown cut deep into his expression, looking faintly annoyed as Osomatsu giddily pranced around the room for a moment before stopping, apparently exhausted from all the dancing and adrenaline and that excitement in general. He heaved a breath— propped his hands on his shoulders and let out a victorious whoop for good measure— before he noticed his brother's expression, and dropped his hands.

"Todomatsu?" said Osomatsu, one of the rare times he used his actual name— though he didn't sound entirely sorry. "What happened?" He looked at Todomatsu's place near the window, before eyes darted over to the window itself. "Oh! Was something there?"

"Yeah." Todomatsu blew out a cheek, and a raspberry, pouting slightly. "It was… a spirit."

"A spirit?"echoed Osomatsu, and tilted his head, slightly, a crooked smile twitching up his mouth. "Aren't you, like, really bad at seeing those things?"

"Yeah," said Todomatsu again, turning back to the window, "but— I saw this one! And it was friendly! And you scared it away!"

"Aww." Osomatsu chuckled, a little, and put a hand on his hip. "Is the youngest brother upset I scared away his new friend…?"

"No!" Todomatsu shot up to his feet, crossing his arms sternly. "It's just— you're so loud! You didn't have to—"

"Nii-san?" said Jyushimatsu from behind Osomatsu, suddenly, and they both turned to face him as he peeked behind the door.

Osomatsu— obviously the one being addressed— turned, blinking. "What is it, Jyushimatsu?"

There was one of those serious looks on Jyushimatsu's face, the one they knew meant something was up. "Where's Karamatsu-niisan?"