Work Text:
How many times has he tried to read that sentence? Fourteen? Eighteen times? It doesn’t matter, the words only make less sense with each reread.
Choromatsu closes the manual, sets it next to him on the couch, and throws his head back. So even reading a book on how to get qualifications is above him, uh… What is there he can do, then?
What would he like to do?
And… Why does any of it matter?
He lets out a long sigh. If he can’t do anything, why does he even try?
“We’re home!!” the exclamation echoes through the house, followed by a laugh, and Choromatsu wishes he were anywhere else. He has no desire to deal with Jyushimatsu right now, nor with any brother or brothers who may be accompanying him. Who even cares which one it is. All the options are bad.
As if the universe itself wanted to prove him wrong, footsteps get closer and closer, and the door is shoved open to reveal none other than Jyushimatsu and Karamatsu.
Maybe he would have been equally as disappointed no matter which one of his brothers had walked in, but that is completely irrelevant. Meanwhile, Jyushimatsu is bouncing up and down, and it can only be a bad sign. Choromatsu is already getting a headache.
Karamatsu readjusts his sunglasses. “Heh. Another beautiful day.”
Seriously, who are you trying to impress? How could guys like them ever think of a day as ‘beautiful’? He doesn’t say anything, though—best not to risk encouraging Karamatsu’s delusions by giving him attention.
But that means it’s the other menace’s turn to annoy him, cackling again even though not a single thing about the situation is funny. “Hi, hi!”
“Seriously, do you ever calm down?” Choromatsu groans, struggling just to remain calm himself.
“Yes!” is Jyushimatsu’s only answer, upbeat yet deadpan, as though it were obvious.
Idiots don’t realize how lucky they are to be idiots.
Choromatsu picks up his book again, hoping against hope that his brothers aren’t stupid enough not to at least get the hint and understand that he has no intention of dealing with their messes today.
Because miracles do happen, apparently, they merely sit on opposite sides of the room, remaining more or less quiet as they kill time with a whole load of nothing. That can’t be good. He’s not used to the silence, and it’s getting under his skin.
Come on. Isn’t anyone going to say anything? Make a joke, laugh the stillness away? Talk about the stupidest things, so he can be the one to bring order back to the house?
Can’t he do at least that?
He snaps the book shut, throwing it on the couch. That seems to get the others’ attention, two heads whipping towards him. The matching looks of surprise on their faces barely offer him any satisfaction.
“Are you okay, Choromatsu-niisan?”
“How could this be okay?” He’s not okay. “We’re wasting our lives.” He’s not okay. “Look at you, you’re not doing anything. Aren’t you ashamed of yourselves? Can’t you hear the clock ticking while you lie there and don’t do a single thing that matters?” He’s not even a little bit okay!
Karamatsu and Jyushimatsu exchange a stunned glance, and he hates them for it. How is that a revelation? It should be obvious to all of them, and it’s maddening that it isn’t.
Jyushimatsu tilts his head to the side, eyebrows drooping with genuine confusion and disappointment. “But it’s fun!”
“Fun?” A vein pops out on Choromatsu’s temple. “How could that–”
“I’ve understood your affliction, Choromatsu!” Oh god. No, he didn’t. There isn’t a single chance of anyone understanding him, let alone Karamatsu. “It sounds like what your mind needs, brother, is a distraction worthy of it!”
Of course this is what he’d say.
Choromatsu crumples in on himself. Isn’t that what his whole life is about? Just a series of distractions, none of which he enjoys, and that only make him feel worse in the end?
But Karamatsu snaps his fingers, and continues, “at last, it’s time for my musical talents to shine! I will sing you an ode to lift your spirits!”
“No thanks,” Choromatsu answers flatly. He’s already at rock bottom, the last thing he needs is for Karamatsu’s voice to push him down deeper.
“Ah…”
“Oh! Or maybe!” Jyushimatsu flaps his arms, like he’s really happy with the idea he’s just had. “Let’s play Choromatsu-niisan’s CDs!”
“Great idea, Jyushimatsu!” Karamatsu’s exclamation is loud and far too overjoyed, as though he were the one who had bought those albums.
Choromatsu wishes he could feel the same.
What is the point? He doesn’t even like those songs all that much, just likes imagining how cute the idol singing them looks and how much cuter she’d be if she were his girlfriend. That’s right. Is there even anything he enjoys, except Chorofappyskiing his life away?
Whether he likes it or not makes no difference: his brothers have gotten their hands on the CD player, and now the walls of the once silent room are shaking with the blaring sound of Nyaa-chan’s third album.
He sighs. It’s not like he expected anything from them. And yet…
“Let’s dance!” Jyushimatsu exclaims, already taking a step back and hopping to the beat.
Why does he keep clinging to hope? He knows there’s no answer. If he can tell none of the logical solutions work, why grasp at stupid, painful, insane straws? The hole that life has dug him into can’t be escaped, and he was a fool for even trying, and he’s tired of it.
“No thanks,” he repeats again, this time with even less enthusiasm, before mumbling, “there’s no difference between that and doing nothing, except how much effort it takes…”
Either Jyushimatsu doesn’t have a comeback, or he simply didn’t hear him, too busy making the floor creak.
But Karamatsu did, or is pretending to. “Surely you cannot mean that, Choromatsu.” His smirk is arrogant and reveals nothing but how much of a tryhard he is, and if Choromatsu discerns some fond honesty in it, it means he’s fooling himself. Karamatsu isn’t even facing towards him when he goes on a pompous tirade. “I understand your concern, but it is unfounded. It’s true that this moment will end. Perhaps we will forget it, and there can be no doubt this oh so cruel world will. And no one will ever know how happy we were. But does it mean it did not happen?” Karamatsu looks him straight in the eyes. “Non, brother. Life is meant to be enjoyed.”
Choromatsu must have gone insane, because he feels like he understands these words.
“Come on, niisan!” Jyushimatsu cheers, eyes closing as he lets out a long, booming laugh. A happy one.
And maybe, just maybe, it’s a little contagious.
Choromatsu stands up, and Karamatsu takes one of his hands, Jyushimatsu grabbing the other.
None of them can dance together: he only knows how to replicate his favorite idols’ choreographies, Karamatsu’s moves look like they’ve been stolen from the drunkest patron of a ‘70s dance club, and Jyushimatsu’s dancing bears suspicious resemblance to the way he swings his bat. If those things weren’t awkward enough on their own, doing them all at the same time and whilst clinging to each other definitely won’t earn them any prizes.
But it is fun. He hasn’t moved like that in a while, and his brothers are cheering, and now he’s cheering too. And it feels so natural.
As much as he hates to admit it…
Time is a lot less scary when you’re waltzing with it.