The investigation started with interrogating each other about what they knew. Which proved to be - not much. Disappointing but at this rate, unsurprising.

The only semi-helpful unhelpful thing they found out was last year when Alfred had applied to study months before graduating, he had asked Matthew what he was going to do. Matthew said he didn't know and Alfred recalled spending the next week giving him suggestions that Matthew didn't seem to be interested beyond his usual politeness.

Arthur found that mostly entirely unhelpful because it didn't help narrow down where Matthew would've gone now and it was a conversation from so long ago that Matthew could've changed his mind since.

The point was, they were getting nowhere. They had no leads and only assumptions.

Arthur had just suggested contacting all relatives to see if Matthew might've moved in with them or if they knew something, but then Alfred had overridden his idea by jumping up and suggesting they search Matthew's room for clues!

"Fine, you go search his room," Arthur took out his phone. "And I'll-"

"We're splitting up and searching for clues! Just like in Scooby-Doo!"

"Just go," Arthur waved Alfred away.

"I'll come with you!" Gilbert jumped up and Francis followed.

"Will you be alright?" Antonio asked.

"I'll be fine, it's not hard to make a couple of calls," Arthur reassured and Antonio left too.

Arthur sipped on his tea as the phone dialed.

"His room didn't always look like this," Alfred said as they went in.

"I was picturing something more awesome," Gilbert agreed. "There's no way it would be this depressing."

"Look- You can see the dust on the walls from where his hockey shit was."

"Man, I really miss watching him play hockey. He was awesome at it," Gilbert remembered being captivated by how Matthew had played. Francis chuckled teasingly as he dug an elbow into his friend.

"So what are we looking for?" Antonio asked.

"Clues, gang," Alfred finger gunned.

"That'll probably mean digging through his stuff, are you alright with that amigo?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Alfred shrugged and approached his brother's wardrobe. He opened it.

It was empty. Completely empty.

"What the fuck?"

Alfred had assumed that it was just the exterior of the room that had been cleaned out and left bland, but with increasing panic and uncertainty he pulled open every door and drawer hoping to find something but was left with nothing.

"Wow, he really moved out, huh?" Gilbert whistled.

"Are you alright?" Francis asked as Alfred paced back and forth.

"Yeah, of course! I'm fine. We already knew he moved out so we should've expected this-" Alfred sat on the bed and scratched his head. "I just feel a little bit bad because usually someone moving out is a big deal but this time it's just happened so, yeah I don't know."

"Maybe Matthew had to move out on a deadline," Antonio suggested as he wandered around the room. "And so it happened very quickly?"

"Yeah! That could be it!" Gilbert announced. "And that would be why he forgot to clean out this bin."

"That could be a clue!" Alfred slapped his hands down on the bed and in doing so found another clue. His hand had hit something hard under the covers and when he pulled them back he saw an art book. He grabbed it. "Clue 2 guys! We're so good at this!"

"Of course we are, we're awesome!" Gilbert said as he just grabbed the lining from the bin.

"That's two clues secured, anything else?" Alfred's optimism was back.

"There's an eye mask and face mask in this drawer," Antonio suggested as he pulled open the nightstand.

"Uh, maybe," Alfred shrugged and grabbed them anyway. "What else?"

Francis tutted as he reached for something between the wardrobe and the wall. He pulled out a hockey mask and Alfred's optimism wavered.

"What's that doing there?" He asked as he reached for it. It was dusty.

"I don't know, maybe it fell?" Francis offered.

"Was there anything else back there?" Alfred strained to look, desperate to find more. There was nothing else.

"There's something here!" Gilbert was on the floor looking under the bed. He pulled out a pile of clothes, folded neatly. When they got messed up from being pulled out, Gilbert attempted to fold them again to fix them. They stayed wrinkly.

"Okay... that's weird," Alfred could see the top item... it was Matthew's favourite jumper. Alfred only knew that and was able to recognise it because of the maple leaf. "Grab that too."

"There's this too," Francis caught his attention (of course he did - Alfred tried to silence the thoughts that called him out) and reached for something on top of the wardrobe. It was a bottle of maple syrup.

"I thought he hated the plastic bottles," Alfred commented as he saw the completely empty non-glass bottle. The bottle had basically been sucked into itself by the force that had been used to get every last drop of syrup. There was a crack in one of the sides from the force. Alfred knew that his brother loved the sweet syrup but that just felt extreme, like something Alfred would do.

"He must've forgotten it was here, though luckily it didn't attract ants," Francis mused.

"Oh yeah that's good or Arthur would never shut up," Alfred looked around contemplatively. He had to be optimistic that these insignificant and forgotten items would give them a lead. "I think that's everything so let's go harass Arthur and piece this puzzle together."

Well... Arthur didn't have any luck. He said as much when everyone came back in. He had called everyone possibly relevant and forced them to answer with what they could without getting off-topic.

Not only was Matthew not staying with family but he hadn't been seen since graduation. By anyone. Like he had become a homebody or something since. So that was helpful. Arthur just requested people keep an eye out for him.

"Well, we might've had more luck!" Alfred said as everything was tossed onto the counter for Arthur to see.

"I don't see how this will be helpful," Arthur critiqued as he removed the eye and face mask and then binned the maple syrup bottle.

"But it could be a clue! Like maybe he had to leave in a hurry so he forgot to trash the maple syrup."

"Maybe, I suppose it would be a contextual clue but hardly a helpful one. What's this?" Arthur pointed to the stack of clothes.

"I found those under his bed!" Gilbert said, a little too excitedly. "But I'm pretty sure that's the jumper he always wore so I don't know why it'd be there."

"I'm sure he had a lot of similar style clothes. Now answer; why bring clothes that were under his bed?"

"Oh yeah, uh, everything was empty. All his drawers and wardrobe- this was literally everything in his room. That's all his clothes."

Arthur gave an incredulous look before shaking his head and bringing the jumper to his face to give it a sniff. He hesitated, then sniffed again.

"I think you're right," his tone condemning.

"Who and about what?" Alfred was a little confused.

"This jumper- it's the same one he wore all the time."

"Oh... so what does that mean?" Alfred asked, his eyes darting between his older (hopefully, therefore wiser) brother and Matthew's favourite jumper.

If Matthew moved out, how the fuck did he forget his favourite jumper? The one he always wore?

"I'm not sure," Arthur folded it and put it back on the pile. "Why would he leave it behind... and why under the bed? Of all the places... what else is here?"

Alfred really didn't like that Arthur was unsure.

"What about this? He forgot this too!" Alfred held up Matthew's hockey helmet.

"Where was that?" Arthur asked as he took it.

"Between the wall and the wardrobe," Francis answered. "Maybe it fell?"

"It must've... but why wouldn't he come back for it?"

"If it fell he might've thought he lost it and bought a new one?" Antonio shrugged.

"That's plausible. What else is there?" Arthur demanded.

"So, we've got his trash which might have important papers in it, I don't know, and I found this-" Alfred held up the thin art book "in the bed for some reason so hopefully -question mark?- it gives us a lead-"

Arthur's sigh said 'I doubt that' as he motioned for the book. He opened it and his expression became even more tense as he studied the page.

"Did Matthew ever take art?" Arthur asked with urgency.

"Yep!" Gilbert said. "Once I asked to see what he was drawing but he said I couldn't because it was for a project. I'm sure whatever it was it was very awesome!"

"Okay, well, that might explain the nature of this drawing then."

Arthur put the book down for everyone to see. Immediately Alfred felt a weird aura from the black and white page.

In the center was a child, who looked scared and uncertain and who looked like Matthew. Around him was darkness. Somehow it looked like it was creeping in to swallow him. There was a white space between the child and the darkness, though small. It was in the shape of a polar bear.

The polar bear felt familiar to him somehow but being more focused on the eerie art, Alfred couldn't really think.

"Without a date or title this isn't very helpful," Arthur, ever pragmatic, continued. He snatched the book away and went through the other pictures. "If this was all for a grade then I hope he got top marks. But this is hardly helpful... still, I see why he might want to leave this behind."

Arthur showed another page.

It was a child, who looked like Matthew, and also looked like he was made out of yarn. The child was wearing Matthew's favourite jumper only it was unravelling from the middle. The child watched it unravel despite the fact that he was made out of the jumper and with the yarn being pulled away it was destroying him. His insides were made of yarn and they were being pulled out. He had a conflicted expression but couldn't save himself from being pulled apart.

"Cus it's creepy?" Alfred asked and no one had any reassurances.

"A lot of the pages have been ripped out," Arthur mused as he hesitantly flicked through the few pages, "A majority, actually. Every other drawing in here is just as... surreal? I don't know the term but these pictures just feel... strange."

"They're all like that?" Francis muttered.

"Show us some more," Alfred found himself saying even though he didn't even want to see the first two ever again.

"No. I doubt they're relevant." Arthur suddenly snapped the book shut and slammed it on the counter. "I doubt they'll point to where Matthew is now."

"Okay, geez," Gilbert winced. "Maybe you should try some of this punch."

At the reminder of the punch Alfred skulled his glass and went to grab a refill. He wasn't the only one.

"I sure hope these papers help," Arthur said as he pulled out the crinkled-up papers from the bin lining and set to flatten them out. Everyone knew that something was wrong when Arthur had a sharp intake of breath.

Matthew's graduation certificate was on the table.

Arthur continued to flatten out paper after paper while the others watched in silence.

There was a paper for Matthew's final grades. All top marks. Stained with a few blotches of... presumably tears... hopefully not tears... but probably tears...

There were a few pieces of lined papers, A5 size having been ripped from somewhere else and laid to be read on the surface.

They were diary pages. It felt wrong and invasive, yet no one had any moral objections to reading them.

[Dear diary
Nothing to report. My life is boring. I've been keeping on top of my school work and that's all I really need to do anymore. That's all I want to do. I've been putting so much effort into trying to help everyone else that it's been impacting my school work. Or it would be if I didn't keep on top of it. Sometimes I don't think I can do everything like I used to. I don't want to either but I feel like I have to now because things would be weird if I stopped.

Gilbert was being weird again, it was like he was trying to show off and I had to respond but I really don't know how or what he wants. He probably just needs to be constantly told he's great. But he already knows he's 'awesome' so I don't know why he needs to prove it to everyone. Or even to me over and over because I just keep responding like I should and agreeing. Maybe there's problems going on at home or something and that's why he needs approval. I think that's the case and I feel bad for him but he has so many friends that it shouldn't matter. He's already on the top and his friends love him.
I just realised that Gilbert is probably being compared to his brother. I understand now and I get it. I can't stop comparing myself to Alfred and I wish I could make myself stop. But Gilbert has more friends than his brother so can't he see he's better off? All his friends back him on being awesome but it's just me who's approval he seems to need, unless I'm just not seeing all the times he's being weird to everyone else too. Now I just feel judgy and it doesn't even matter.]

The page was ripped, like those few paragraphs had been selected to be disposed of. Gilbert's face morphed into something serious as he read it before he finally tore his eyes away and finished the rest of his punch.

There were more diary entries.

[I had that exam I was really worried about today and so I made myself pancakes to celebrate. Then Arthur and Alfred came in and I had to make more to share them. I told them they were celebration pancakes and then Arthur thought I meant celebrating that he got a better job and Alfred thought I meant celebrating that he finished a TV series he cared about but I don't really know how that's something to celebrate.
I just agreed and ate my pancakes. Because I'm nice, I let them believe what they wanted to. I'm not going to cause an argument again
]

Alfred and Arthur looked at each other for an explanation but couldn't find one. The page just ended mid-sentence and they were hanging onto every word searching for meaning that couldn't be completed.

[Dear diary
It's a week before graduation and I'm so tired. I don't think I could walk across the stage and I don't think I want to. Do I even need to? I could just not go and nothing would change so that's why I have to go, right? Or is that why I should not go and see if I'm right? I know I'm right but why do I not want to be? Why do I have to be stuck?]

Alfred had too many questions because he didn't understand this one at all.

Arthur really hoped that his understanding was a misinterpretation of the budding nagging feeling...

[I asked Alfred if he wanted to do something today but he said he was tired and wanted to watch TV. So I joined him but then someone texted him and 5 minutes later he was being picked up to hang out with someone else.
I really wish I knew what to do to hold anyone's attention but even now that I've given up it still hurts. It just reminds me that somehow I'm not good enough. So I just turned the TV off and fell asleep on the couch. I don't have anything else to do now that school's over.
Is this the 'real world' that we were constantly told about? I had just adapted to school and now I have to adapt again?]

Alfred didn't even know what scenario Matthew was describing and he felt like shit.

[Dear diary
We graduate tomorrow but I can remember my first day of school so clearly. Did any time actually pass between then? Now I understand what everyone meant by 'be careful, it goes fast'. I know Alfred always brushed them off, but I always listened. It wasn't that I didn't believe them, I just thought that it wouldn't start until much later. But I see it now.
I asked Alfred if he wanted to go ice skating or even play baseball like we used to when we were younger but he said he already had plans. I asked what about later and he had plans. He always has plans. I wish I knew what I needed to do to be included in those plans but if I haven't figured it out by now I never will. I've tried so hard and I got nowhere and now I've finally given up. I don't want to be in those plans anyway, not anymore.
It doesn't even hurt like it used to. Alfred was my only friend or at least he was supposed to be a friend. I can't make anyone be friends with me, I can't force anything but if I was meant to have just one friend isn't it supposed to be Al? But I don't want him to be friends with me out of obligation. That would just feel wrong.
I don't wanna go ice skating by myself anymore.]

[I don't know why I'm not surprised or why I'm not hurt about it. Usually I would be but somehow it's just confirmation. The principal blanked on my name before calling me on the stage. Everyone clapped but it felt like a soulless laugh track from a soulless TV series with the most boring, repetitive and predictable plot. I don't really remember much else from that moment on.
I know that I went home because I didn't have anywhere else to be. Everyone else had after-parties and dinners and things like that, things I can't imagine because I'm never included. I know I went home and was home alone for a while, I just sat on my bed and I think I stayed like that all night.]

Alfred didn't remember the name mix-up at all but he did remember the after-parties... he couldn't even remember if Matthew was there or not. Fuck. That said enough, didn't it? Fuck.

[I realised it's not that I don't wanna go ice skating by myself, I just don't want to ice skate at all anymore. I look at the ice and I just don't care about it anymore. I feel the same way when looking in the mirror and-]

It just ended. There had to be more. Needed to be more because having the uncertainty just left to their imaginations didn't bring anyone comfort.

[Dear Diary
Would I even feel the heat of flames if I burnt that stupid graduation gown? I should go to the rink and lay on the ice and see if I feel any different. I'm not sure if I would. I am cold.]

What the fuck did that mean? Alfred searched for answers in Arthur who just looked away with a scowl.

[I tried talking to Arthur about it but he needed to go shopping so he said later. If I wasn't so tired I would've offered to go shopping with him and talked then but he was already gone. But I shouldn't judge him, he does so much for us and I'd just be giving him more problems to sort out.
Alfred always said I could tell him anything but I couldn't hold his focus because he was watching something that distracted me too. I can't even remember what it was but I saw the colours and it was like I was hypnotized as I just sat and stared at the screen. I don't remember anything only then I woke up on the couch a while later apparently having fallen asleep.
I don't think I'll try again later. I'll just talk to Kuma like always.]

[Dear Diary
We graduated a couple of months ago and it feels like so much has changed but everything is still the same. I can't believe I'm 18 today because it felt like just yesterday we were still in school. I really miss school even though I didn't really like it. At least at school I wasn't physically alone but now I am completely alone. I feel stupid for not seeing it coming. Did I really think if I tried hard enough I'd wedge myself in a friend group and stay there even once school was over?
At least Alfred hugged me and said Happy birthday and I didn't want him to let go because it had been so long. I don't know why I felt like crying, but I had to hide it because it would make things weird so I asked what we were doing today. But then he surprised me by saying he already had plans. I thought we celebrated our birthdays together? That's what we've always done and apparently that changes now. Usually, he's always so insistent on the planning that I don't bother. There's no point in suggesting anything when it comes to Al. But because he didn't tell me that he was doing his own thing, I don't have anything to do. I feel like I should cry about it because for so many years I always stopped myself from crying, but I'm too tired for that. I wish I could cry because maybe I'll feel better.
I think I'll just go to bed early-]

Oh fuck. Alfred remembered their birthday and his plans. He had been so sure that he had mentioned it to Matthew too. Fuck. There was a knife twisting in his heart right now and now knowing how alone his brother was- he needed to hug his twin right now and make it okay. Alfred kept his head down and kept reading, but he could feel everyone glancing his way and he really didn't want to see what their faces looked like.

He wouldn't blame them if they thought he was the most selfish piece of shit they've ever met.

[Yesterday I spent the whole day in bed. I didn't mean to but I did choose to. It was an easy choice to make because I was so comfortable and getting up seemed impossible, so all I had to do was just lay there. But then time kept passing and it made me feel bad for still being in bed but I still couldn't get up. I guess that just meant I didn't care enough. Now I just feel lazy. I didn't even do anything, not even scroll on my phone. I don't even think I thought about anything even though I need to. I need to think about what I'm going to do about my life but when I start thinking about it I either get distracted or really tired so I can't even try. It's like my own body doesn't want to fix my life. Then the sun was going down and I was still stuck in bed and somehow despite doing nothing I was tired and I just feel so guilty for wasting an entire day. I hope my life doesn't turn out like today. A giant fucking waste.

I want to look up how to actually get out of bed because I just don't know but I can't be bothered. It took me until the afternoon to get out of bed today and I felt really bad for wasting so much time and I still partly feel bad but part of me just can't bring myself to google it. Because it's not really a problem is it? I don't think so. I don't have anywhere I have to be or anyone I have to see. No one expects anything from me which is very different from before. I don't even know what to think about it.

I know that Arthur would just say set an alarm or something like that to get my lazy butt out of bed. But I've been using alarms for years because of school so I already knew that was an option. I tried using alarms but when it comes to the moment of getting out of bed I just turn off the alarm. No matter how much I try to sleep it so it'll turn back on and I have another chance, I always turn it off.
]

Then the last piece of paper that Arthur flattened out was a page of a month from a calendar. August. Nearly every day was crossed off... except for the last few days. Was Matthew not there to mark them off?

It was the start of October now.

There was a thick tension hanging over the group as they stared at the select pages. No one knew what to make of all this, only if it was in the bin that was because Matthew rejected it. But why?

It was hard to focus on that question when everyone was busy asking themselves 'How did they miss how Matthew felt'? Because not one person had noticed that he was depressed and felt like shit. Not one.

And not one of them realised they weren't treating him fairly and pushed him to that point. That realisation had started to sink in and it strained their hearts. It haunted them.