The atmosphere had dropped, silence worming its way into Osomatsu's dreaded ears. He was getting awfully attracted to the floor beneath him, but he just couldn't bear to look his family in the eye, not after they've seen him in this pathetic state.
He had been in numerous fights back in high school, always coming home with a bruised lip or a black eye. But that was in high school when they made sure not to punch too hard, or kick too high. Right now, he looked as if he had been run over by some garbage truck over and over again. It didn't help that his clothes were soiled and ripped in various spots.
Just when he thought he couldn't stand the quiet any longer, his mother let out a low sigh, disappointment evident in that one breathe of air. "What have you been doing lately, Osomatsu?"
The eldest pursed his hurting lip, feeling the iron taste of blood drip onto his tongue. Gods, he really didn't want to be here. Gods, he really wished he had been more careful. Gods, he really wished he hadn't done something so stupid. His mother wasn't the only person he had managed to piss off today. In fact, his list also consisted of Choromatsu, Karamatsu, some street thugs, and. And him. GODS, he was so stupid.
"Osomatsu, tell me, where are you always going to? What is there to do every day? This is more than just some little hobby, I assume?"
He peeked through his bangs and caught a quick glance at Matsuyo who sat at the table, face pulled tight into a scowl. His father was seated across her, his expression similar to that of his wife's. He couldn't recall when his parents had become this serious and mad. Even when they were just messing around, they never truly got angry at any one of them.
But no matter what happens, no matter how much pressure he gets pulled under, he was not going to budge. He just can't risk sharing his little dirty secret. He would rather die by his hands than let his family know what messy acts he had been doing lately. They would disown him.
"Osoma-"
"It was just a little squabble." His voice was wobbly, hesitation clear as day. He mentally scolded himself for being so nervous and panicky.
Matsuyo then opened her mouth to speak, her brows furrowed and eyes glinting dangerously. Hundreds of speculations and guesses crossed her mind as she looked at her disheveled son, trying her best to read his mind.
The red clad Matsu could only wait in agony, wanting everything to just end. His brothers were being unusually quiet tonight, none of them wanting to have a say in this argument between a mother and son.
Funny how when they were kids they would always back one another up, always improvising and coming up with excuses to rescue one of their own. It didn't matter whose fault it was, if one of the brothers had to take the blame, all of them would pin it on someone else, most likely poor Chibita.
But as they aged into their adulthood, their messed up unity and brotherly support began to gradually fray, most of the times leaving one to fend for his own whenever some trouble arises.
Osomatsu couldn't help but feel a bit sad when he reminisced about the past. He may refer to his brothers as his enemies, but if he was being truly honest about himself, he knew he was actually pretty grateful for them.
He heard his mother sigh and mentally slapped himself. His flashbacks would be of no use in a situation like this. He needed to find a way out.
"Mom, it really isn't anything serious. Really. Just some gangsters who threatened me for cash, and I got impatient with them. Unfortunately I got outnumbered. End of story" He tried for a smile, looking up at his parents and hoping they got the message that he didn't want to talk about this at all. He was exhausted and irritated, and he just wanted to tuck himself into bed.
Another wave of disappointment graced his mother's face and he waited for a more wrath-filled interrogation but was relieved when he saw her shake her head slightly.
"At least eat your dinner."
With that, he roughly pulled himself away from Karamatsu and seated himself next to Choromatsu who was staring at him with narrowed eyes that he promptly avoided. He grabbed a plate and caught Jyushimatsu's eye from across the table. He still had that wide, unbreakable grin on his face despite the interruption of the meal. Gods, as the eldest, he should be the one who knew most about what made his little brothers tick, but with the fifth son? He could never quite solve his mystery.
He cracked a mirthful grin at him and the yellow Matsu, as impossible as it seemed, smiled even wider. He proceeded to grab random food from the plates, all the while shouting random baseball terms that made no sense. Osomatsu was grateful for his little brother's attempt at trying to lighten up the mood.
Dinner continued on as if nothing had happened. Osomatsu only half-listened to Totty's complains about his manager and something about decreasing his pay. Karamatsu occasionally spouted random English words for no particular reason, getting hit more than once by Ichimatsu who was gritting his teeth in annoyance. Jyushimatsu would run from one end of the room to the other, shouting, "MUSCLE, MUSCLE, HUSTLE, HUSTLE!"
But with everything that had happened tonight, and no matter how hard the others tried to make it seem as if the little squabble between the eldest and their mother hadn't happened, Choromatsu couldn't help but peek at him out of the corner of his eye. Something had happened today, something more serious than Osomatsu would let on.
He knew that his brother was capable of fighting for himself, him being the most adept at combat out of all of them. He wouldn't lose easily, not to a bunch of the so-called "gangsters" he had described earlier. He had not been in a fight, Choromatsu was sure of that. But he couldn't really think of other scenarios for his brother to come in this battered state.
He forced another spoon of soup into his dry mouth, trying to swallow down the curiosity and concern (although, he would of course never admit it) along with it.
Osomatsu woke up especially early the next morning, stepping over his still sleeping brothers to get to where his regular clothes were. It was a little over 8 o' clock and he still had plenty of time on his hands, but he didn't want to take another risk. He gently thumbed the band aid across his cheek, remembering how the deep wound was inflicted upon him just yesterday. He shuddered. He really didn't need gruesome reminders in the morning.
He got changed and headed downstairs, careful to slide noiselessly across the kitchen doorway where his mother was cooking to get to the main entrance. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when he managed to slip past their residence's fence. With the many times he had to sneak out for the last few months, he had learned a few tricks here and there to not getting caught.
The streets in the early morning were mostly empty, considering it was a Saturday, with only a handful of people going about their business. The shops had already opened and as Osomatsu approached Totoko's fish store, he snuck a quick glance through the display window, spotting the Yowais already behind the counter, his love interest nowhere in sight. Still in bed like his brothers, maybe.
He couldn't remember the rest of the walk towards his destination with the thoughts of last night still bouncing around in his jumbled brain. He had to force himself to snap out of his cringe-worthy flashbacks to direct his attention towards the dilapidated warehouse he was now standing in front of.
He understood why this place was chosen to be their so-called 'hideout'.
It was huge, taking up at most half of a football stadium, but despite its size, the atmosphere it gave off would make anyone, even the toughest of punks, turn away. Holes perforated the rundown roof, paint peeling off from what was once maroon walls. The wood hammered onto the windows, most likely to keep unwanted visitors away, was useless, as most of it was either torn apart or chewed away by termites and other insects. Even the yard was littered with garbage bags, neighbors too impatient to wait for the collection. Osomatsu had to look carefully at where he was stepping to avoid the unidentifiable pieces of junk. The door itself was big and looming, but over the course of a few months, he'd grown used to the warehouse's gloomy aura, sometimes even finding comfort in it.
He stepped over the crumbling threshold and blinked rapidly. The warm sun from outside was a huge contrast to the darkness he was currently encompassed in. As his eyes adjusted to the absence of light, he could slowly make out the silhouettes of random objects stacked haphazardly around the length of the place.
His eyes landed on the figure of a tall man moving in the shadows, his back towards him. The dull light that came from a door at the corner of the warehouse illuminated the slightly brown checkered suit he was wearing, his dark hair blending in with the dimness around him.
Osomatsu was never a person of poise and delicacy. He brightened up, skipping his way over to the unknowing man and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey Tougou!"
The latter slightly jumped in surprise and glared down at the twenty-year old, irritation expressed openly on his sharp features. He had these narrow eyes that always seemed to be either smiling or calculating. His pointed teeth were similar to that of a shark's, ready to chomp on whatever prey he managed to catch (metaphorically, of course). He must have been deemed handsome when he was younger, but now, time and work has deepened the wrinkles on his skin.
"What are you doing here so early?" Tougou's deep, rough voice made the younger's heart skip a beat and he tried to hide his nervousness. Despite the numerous times he's worked with the man, Osomatsu could never really stay calm around him. He wasn't oblivious to his strange feelings towards him. He knew that he held some affection, although it really was morbid and uncanny.
He couldn't remember the first time he looked at Tougou in a different way, as someone more than just an escaped criminal, and a scary one at that. He never quite thought that something like this would happen, seeing as their first few meetings scared and angered the hell out of him.
But who could blame him for running away when the man who traumatized his childhood suddenly pulled him into a dark alleyway, a very familiar knife at his throat?
It was from that point on that Tougou had taken Osomatsu in as his new "partner", assisting him on dangerous acts, all the while threatening to hurt him and his family. The latter had taken the job as he had no choice and feared for both his and his loved ones' lives, but as the days had gone by, Tougou's warnings had begun to lose its promise. They would waved away by a flick of carefree hand, or a lazy smirk.
"I thought that maybe if you see my face this early in the morning, the rest of your day would be just as gorgeous!"
"Tch. What gorgeous? There's nothing more hideous than seeing that annoying, shit-eating grin of yours. Besides, it's a Saturday. We don't work on Saturdays."
"Aw, don't act so tough~ I know you love me! And can't I just hang out with you outside of work? Why don't we go somewhere fun today? I have a good feeling about the horse ra -"
"No. I'm exhausted. I haven't even eaten anything. Now, go away."
Osomatsu looked into the room where Tougou was currently residing in. It was small, with only a bed, a table, and a door that led to a small bathroom. But it was good enough. This warehouse is the only place where the police won't think to investigate, since it was pretty far from the city itself and because of Osomatsu's rumors about the said convict still lurking there. Besides, the city's police force wasn't exactly an outstanding one.
On the table were plastic bags that contained convenient store meals, most of them already opened and spilling onto the wood.
"You're going to die soon if you keep eating this junk, old man."
"Don't tell me what to do. And don't call me that. And leave me alo-"
"Alright, it's settled then! Let's go to the horse races! And don't worry about money, it's my treat! Ohhh, I can't wait for today's results! I've already got some numbers in mind, and I'm feeling pretty lucky today. After this, we're gonna be so rich, you don't even have to eat disgusting fatty foods anymore!"
"I said, I'm not go-"
"Of course, if we don't win, we can always just resort to the good 'ol trend of mugging innocent civilians by threatening them at knife point. Knife point? Can I say that? I mean, you don't use a gun, and knife point seems more appropriate, but whatever, I guess. That reminds, why don't you use a gun?"
"Kid, you're getting on my ner-"
"Oh yeah, you do seem to prefer dealing with people at close quarters. Actually, all street thieves really would choose a knife over a gun. But guns are cool, don't you think? Hey, do you think I can get one? That would be awesome! Hey, why don't you give me a weapo-"
"I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
The fist that connected with his still sore cheek rattled his skull and the next thing he knew, he was on the ground, blinking stars out of his eyes.
It took some time to register what actually happened, and when he finally did, he brought a hand to his face and gently poked at the skin. He flinched. Karamatsu had done such a good job patching it up for him last night, and now, here he was, another injury to add to several others.
His eyes started to water and he bit his lip. He didn't want to cry. He didn't cry a single tear yesterday, even with the many beatings he had endured, so why is that he felt so much more pain now? And it hurt so fucking much.
The ground below him started to blur, and as the first few drops fell, Tougou let out an exasperated sigh. Osomatsu heard his strangely uneven footsteps heading towards the warehouse's front door, the hinges creaking as he opened them. Sunlight streamed in, along with the sounds of the bustling city from far away.
"I'm going out for a bit."
And with that, the place was once again drowned in darkness.
The next morning, when Osomatsu came back, he found Tougou missing. This wasn't anything new. He probably had some business he wanted to care of by himself.
What was new was the package that greeted him when he opened the door.
The object was wrapped in parchment paper, a thin red ribbon holding it together. A tag hung off the end and written on it in nearly illegible writing were the words, "For the brat"
Osomatsu opened the supposed gift to see the glinting blade of a newly bought pocketknife.
A small smile crept onto his lips.
"Why can't he just be honest with himself?"
