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The wind howled through the trees, a mournful sound as if the forest itself was whispering its secret. The light of the setting sun barely pierced through the thick canopy of leaves, casting long shadows on the forest floor. In the distance, the faint sound of children's laughter echoed from the nearby park where a football game was underway.
One of the kids kicked the ball a little too hard.
"Go get it!" someone yelled, their voice high-pitched and full of mock annoyance.
The football bounced off a tree, rolled across the forest floor, and then came to a stop. The group of kids paused, looking at the ball and then at each other.
"Who's gonna go?" one asked, kicking the dirt with frustration.
After a moment of arguing, it was decided. The ball kicker, a boy with a freckled face and unkempt hair, groaned but trudged forward. He didn’t want to be the one to trek into the ominous forest, but it had to be done.
As he ventured deeper into the trees, the sound of the game fading behind him, something caught his eye—a glint of red. Blood. His heart began to race.
The boy hesitated, his small feet almost frozen to the ground. The smell was the first thing to hit him—the coppery, metallic scent that made his stomach churn. He stepped forward, following the trail of crimson, and his eyes widened when they landed on the source.
A body. A man. Bloodied. The lifeless face staring at the sky, eyes wide open, unseeing. The boy stumbled back, gasping, his hands trembling. His scream pierced the forest, echoing like a death knell.
Detective Nakajima was in his late thirties, his salt-and-pepper hair betraying years of sleepless nights spent chasing cases that never seemed to tie up neatly. As he stood at the edge of the forest, his eyes scanning the perimeter, he could already tell this one was going to be messy.
The officers around him looked at the body, taking notes. There was no obvious cause of death—no wounds, no signs of struggle—but the blood was undeniable. Whoever had done this was calculated. Careful. They had left no trace behind. “Why here? Why this?"
As the coroner examined the body, Nakajima’s phone buzzed. He answered the call, listening intently, his face palling with each word.
"Body has been confirmed, boss. His name is Matsuno, Karamatsu, 22 years old Male. Second eldest son to Matsuzo and Matsuyo Matsuno, says here he is a part of the Matsuno sextuplets."
As the news broke a ripple of shock ran through the department. The Matsuno sextuplets were infamous, their birth having made headlines across Japan. To find one of them dead in the woods—no one had seen this coming.
The Matsuno family was known not just for the sextuplets, but for the chaos that surrounded their public lives. Born to a working-class couple in a quiet suburb, the six siblings had risen to fame almost overnight when they became Japan's first sextuplets. Their birth had been hailed as a miracle, with doctors and specialists from across the country flocking to observe them. But the media frenzy was not just because of the novelty they were *unique* in their own right.
Each of the sextuplets Osomatsu, Karamatsu, Choromatsu, Ichimatsu, Jyushimatsu, and Todomatsu had developed their own quirky personality, often playing into the stereotype of the "perfect family" while secretly bickering and competing for attention. Karamatsu, the second-oldest of the sextuplets, had always been the most enigmatic of them all. His striking appearance, paired with his love for the limelight, made him the family's most publicized member.
But while the others had largely adapted to their shared fame, Karamatsu had always maintained a certain distance, always on the fringe of the chaos but never fully immersed in it. He was a “mystery” even to his family.
The brothers had often joked about Karamatsu’s "cool" attitude, his tendency to act aloof, thinking he was too good for everyone. But behind that veneer, they knew there was something more, something darker that they never fully understood.
Now, with his death hanging over them, the detectives knew this news would shattered the family.
It was a normal morning at the Matsuno household. The sun streamed through the kitchen windows, casting long shadows across the cluttered countertops. Matsuyo hummed softly as she flipped pancakes, while the younger Matsunos drifted lazily through their morning routine. Osomatsu was already on his phone, poking fun at whatever nonsense he found on the internet, while Ichimatsu scowled in the corner, brooding over a cup of coffee.
The air smelled of fresh toast and sizzling bacon, the familiar sounds of everyday life. But that peace shattered the moment the knock came at the door.
It wasn’t the usual knock, it was loud and confident it was frantic, sharp, urgent. Matsuyo froze, a frown instantly pulling at her features. She wiped her hands on her apron, hesitant, before walking toward the door. A strange unease crawled up her spine.
When she opened it, she wasn’t prepared for the sight before her.
A Detective stood there, his face grim, flanked by a uniformed officer. The officer’s expression was stern and unreadable. The detectives however, looked more... burdened. As if he carried a weight that didn’t belong to him, but he had no choice but to bear it.
“Detective Nakajima, May I come in, Mrs. Matsuno?” Nakajima asked, his voice quiet, almost too gentle for someone delivering news they knew would shatter a family.
Matsuyo’s heart hammered in her chest. Something wasn’t right. She stepped aside, and the two men entered.
Her hand shook slightly as she closed the door behind them. "Is this about Karamatsu?"she asked, her voice small, afraid of what they might say next. She had noticed early in the morning her second eldest was nowhere to be found around the house.
Nakajima’s eyes flicked to the officer, who gave a small nod. He took a deep breath and met Matsuyo’s gaze.
“I’m afraid so, Mrs. Matsuno. Karamatsu... has been found.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Matsuyo’s blood ran cold, and her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes flickered to the officer, then back to Nakajima, searching for some clue that this wasn’t real, that this was just some sick joke.
“Been found?” she repeated, as if saying it aloud might make it easier to process. “But... is he alright, is he—”
“Please sit down,” Nakajima said softly, gently guiding her toward the couch. She felt numb as she sat, the words barely registering in her mind.
“Detective... what do you mean?” Osomatsu’s voice came from the hallway. He had been listening, his own curiosity, and then dread, pulling him forward. Ichimatsu, ever the quiet one, followed closely behind.
“Is it...?” Ichimatsu asked, his voice barely a whisper. The same fear lingered in his words, the same confusion in his eyes.
“Yes,” Nakajima said, his gaze turning solemn. “Karamatsu Matsuno’s body was discovered in the woods near the park earlier today. We’re still investigating the circumstances of his death. It appears to be... foul play.”
The words were a punch to the gut, and the room fell silent.
“Wh-what...?” Choromatsu’s voice cracked as he stepped into the room, his face pale. “ what, Karamatsu…What do you mean, foul play? This doesn’t make sense!”
Matsuyo stood up abruptly, her hands pressed to her forehead, trying to steady herself. “How? How could this happen? We saw him just yesterday! He was fine!”
Nakajima held up a hand, his voice low and measured. “I know this is difficult. But I need you all to think carefully. Karamatsu... did he seem different recently? Anything unusual, anything he might have said? Anything at all that you might have noticed?”
The question felt like an accusation, but there was no malice in his tone only the desperation of a detective looking for answers, any answers, to piece together the mystery of Karamatsu’s death.
The Matsunos exchanged looks, their minds racing.
Karamatsu had seemed different in the past few weeks. He had been oddly cheerful, more so than usual. The teasing between the brothers had been lighthearted, but there had been something in Karamatsu’s eyes,a spark, a glint of excitement, that none of them had been able to decipher.
He’d started spending more time on his phone. Texting, messaging someone. But whenever they asked who it was, Karamatsu would brush them off with a smile, claiming it was "nothing special" or that it was just a “friend.”
Ichimatsu’s eyes narrowed as he recalled those moments. “He was always on his phone,” he muttered, as if the memory was starting to click into place. “But he never told us who it was. When we asked, he just said ‘it’s nothing’ or ‘you wouldn’t know them.’”
Osomatsu folded his arms, frustration creeping into his voice. “He was acting... I don’t know, “different”. I should’ve pushed him to talk more. We never really knew what was going on. He just looked so happy, I couldn’t.. I can’t” osomatsu buried his face in his hands, the muffle sounds of sobbing filled the air.
Matsuyo’s eyes filled with tears, her voice trembling. “He didn’t tell me anything either. But he seemed so... full of life. So excited. I thought maybe he’d found someone. A girlfriend, or someone new. Maybe... maybe he didn’t want to share it with us.”
“Did he... mention anyone?” Nakajima pressed gently, leaning forward. “Did he talk about going anywhere special? Meeting someone?”
The brothers exchanged uneasy glances. They wanted to remember more, but everything felt so disjointed. So many small, trivial details that felt like they meant nothing at the time, but now they were all they had.
“I don’t know,” jyushimatsu said, his voice strained.
“He was acting like he was going out with someone, but he never said who. I mean, we teased him about it, but he didn’t... He didn’t want to tell us. We all thought it was just some fling, some ‘Karamatsu-style’ thing.”
“And... yesterday morning,” Ichimatsu added, “the last time I saw him at least... He was happy. In a way that was... different from usual. He said ‘bye, Ichi. See you later,’ and then he left. He seemed... excited.” The silent reminder He never came back. No phone call. No message. Nothing. filled the already heavy room
Nakajima nodded as he processed the information. “I see.” He looked down, taking a moment. “This is going to sound difficult, but I need you all to be honest. Did Karamatsu have any enemies? Anyone who might have wanted to harm him?”
There was a long silence. A slow, creeping sense of dread filled the room. They knew Karamatsu had always been a bit of a mystery. Charming, aloof, and always a little too perfect. But no one could fathom who would want to hurt him.
Matsuyo shook her head. “I can’t think of anyone. He was always so... careful. He kept his personal life private, but no one seemed to dislike him. He had admirers, but...” She trailed off, shaking her head.
“No enemies,” Osomatsu said, but his voice lacked the confidence it once had. “He was... loved. Who would do this to him?”
Nakajima stood, his hand on the back of the chair. “We’ll need to keep questioning people, try to trace where he went that morning, who he met with. For now, I ask that you all stay available in case we need further details.”
The air was thick with the weight of the unknown. Detective Nakajima’s words hung in the room, but they didn’t provide any clarity. They weren’t closer to answers; they were left with more questions.
“Detective... please,” Todoatsu spoke up, his voice barely a whisper, “you have to find out who did this to him. Please... my brother didn’t deserve this.”
Nakajima’s expression softened, but there was nothing he could say to make it easier. “We’ll do everything we can, Mr. Matsuno. I promise you.”
With that, the detectives left, leaving behind a family more broken than ever. The grief, the confusion, and the desperation to understand what had happened to Karamatsu felt suffocating.
And as the door closed behind them, the Matsunos sat in silence, each of them alone with their thoughts, haunted by the questions they couldn’t answer.
What had Karamatsu been hiding?
And why had his life ended so violently?
The house was suffocating. The air in the living room was thick with silence, the heavy kind that settles in after tragedy strikes. The Matsuno family sat around the coffee table, the weight of Karamatsu's sudden death pressing down on them like an unbearable stone. The laughter, the teasing—those moments felt distant now, replaced by the overwhelming silence that filled the room.
Osomatsu was the first to speak, his voice strained with frustration and helplessness. He slammed his fist onto the table, the sound cutting through the silence like a knife. “I can’t do this,” he muttered, his eyes wild with emotion. “We need to know what happened! I can’t.. I can’t just sit here in silence waiting for an answer that may never come!”
Ichimatsu, who usually kept his emotions buried under layers of sarcasm and coldness, didn’t look up. He simply shook his head, his face unreadable. “It’s not going to be easy, Osomatsu. Whoever did this isn’t going to hand us the answers. It’s not going to be that simple.”
Choromatsu rubbed his temples, exhaustion written across his face. His voice cracked with the weight of the loss. “We shouldn’t even be talking about this. It doesn’t feel real. Karamatsu was supposed to be here, making fun of us, acting all cool and... And now he’s…” His words trailed off, and he clenched his fists to keep from breaking down.
Matsuyo stood by the window, her hands gripping the curtain as if holding onto something tangible might stop the world from collapsing. Outside, everything looked normal. The world hadn’t stopped for their pain, and that was what made everything worse.
Her voice, hoarse and fragile, finally broke through the silence. “We need to find out who he was with. Who he was seeing.”
It was the only lead they had—the one thing that might give them answers. In the weeks leading up to Karamatsu’s death, his brothers had noticed how happy he seemed. He’d been secretive, distant at times, always looking at his phone with a smile on his face—something they hadn’t thought much about until now, that's what they know.
“I can’t believe we didn’t see it,” Todomatsu said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He had always been the observant one, the quiet thinker. But now, even his sharp eyes had missed it. "We should’ve noticed. He was changing."
Jyushimatsu gaze turned sharp, his words cutting through the room like a sudden realization. “What if it was someone he trusted? Someone who… who hurt him?”
Osomatsu shot a glance at his younger brother, his eyes burning with emotion. “Stop. We don’t know that for sure. Don’t jump to conclusions. Karamatsu... he wouldn’t have been that careless. He wouldn’t have just trusted anyone like that.” His voice wavered, though. The uncertainty was creeping in, and deep down, he wasn’t so sure anymore.
There was a pause. A heavy silence that none of them knew how to fill. It was Todomatsu who finally broke it, his voice betraying the quiet grief he tried to hide.
“We could try looking through his phone. We all know how much Karamatsu loved his phone. Maybe there’s something there. Some text, some call log. Anything that could tell us who he was seeing.”
The idea hung in the air, unspoken yet obvious. They all knew it was the only way forward. But none of them wanted to be the one to look. After all, it was covered with their brother's crimson red blood. They had just received it, the cop brought a bag filled with karamatsu's belongings. Finally, it was Ichimatsu who reached for Karamatsu's phone, his hand shaking as he unlocked it.
Ichimatsu’s fingers hovered over the blooded phone, the screen lit with the glow of notifications. He scrolled through messages, social media posts, and app updates. The normal, everyday things that seemed so insignificant now, in the face of Karamatsu's death. It was overwhelming. But then he came across something. Something that made his heart race.
A series of late-night messages, dozens of them, from a number none of the brothers recognized, all from someone Karamatsu had kept secret—someone under the connected name ‘Rika’.
“Who the hell is that?” Choromatsu asked, his voice tight with confusion. He leaned in, peering over Ichimatsu’s shoulder.
Ichimatsu’s eyes flicked between the screen and his brothers, his brow furrowing with suspicion. "I don’t know. But... she's been texting him a lot."" He tapped the screen, scrolling slowly.
At first, the messages seemed innocent enough—plans to meet, pictures of things she thought Karamatsu might like, small, sweet notes. But as they scrolled further, something started to feel off. The tone of the messages shifted, darkened.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” one message read. “We’re meant to be.”
The brothers exchanged uneasy glances. The air felt colder now.
“Who is this?” Osomatsu muttered, his voice low, almost a growl. “This doesn’t feel right. This... this person isn’t good for him.”
Ichimatsu continued scrolling, his heart pounding. The messages became more intense, more possessive.
“I’ve missed you,” one of them read. “Want to hop on a call.”
The undercurrent of obsession was undeniable now. And the next message froze Ichimatsu’s blood:
“I can’t wait to see you,Karamatsu, who knows what could happen.”
Osomatsu clenched his fists.
Karamatsu had never mentioned her. Not once. There had been no talk of a relationship, no hints of a secret love. But now it was clear: Karamatsu had been hiding something. Someone. And she had been consuming him.
They called the detectives the moment they could. They had to get answers and know who this woman truly was and why she’d been texting Karamatsu in ways that made their skin crawl.
Detective Nakajima and his partner, Detective Oshima, arrived at the Matsuno house shortly after the brothers contacted them. They had already gathered some evidence—fingerprints from Karamatsu’s body, forensic reports, the time and manner of his death—but now, with this new information, the case was starting to take on a different shape.
“Let’s see it,” Nakajima said, his voice grim. The family had gathered in the living room, eyes fixed on the detectives as they handed over Karamatsu’s phone and the message threads.
The detectives read through the messages carefully, their expressions becoming more serious with each line they examined.
“This is... a lot,” Oshima said softly, his eyes narrowing. “It doesn’t seem like Karamatsu was just casually dating this woman. This looks like... something more.”
Nakajima rubbed his chin, his mind already working through the possibilities. “ and your positive you Have ever heard of this woman before? Rika?”
The brothers exchanged glances. No one had ever heard of her. Karamatsu had always been private about his personal life even to them to the point where they hadn’t realized how much he’d been keeping hidden.
“Rika…” Nakajima repeated the name, committing it to memory. “We’ll run a background check. We’ll find out who she is.”
Hours passed, and the detectives went to work. Meanwhile, the Matsuno brothers couldn’t sit still, waiting in agony for any new information. What kind of person would obsess over Karamatsu like this? What kind of person would trap him in their world, convincing him that they were meant to be together?
The wait felt endless, but then, the call came. Nakajima was on the line.
“We’ve found her,” he said, his voice tight. “Morimoto, Rika isn’t just some random person. She’s been following your lives for years, but especially following karamatsu like closely then the rest of you.”
Choromatsu’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean following his life?”
Nakajima’s voice grew colder. “Rika Morimoto has been obsessed with Karamatsu for years. She’s one of those people who fixates on certain individuals, sometimes it’s a celebrity, sometimes it’s someone they’ve read about or heard of. In Rika’s case, it was Karamatsu. She was fascinated by his survival story and the fact that he was the weakest of the sextuplets but fought so hard to live. She became obsessed with that narrative, with him.”
Osomatsu stood frozen, unable to comprehend the full gravity of the situation. "So, she didn't just meet him—she’s been watching him for years?"
“Yes,” Nakajima confirmed. “She’s been tracking his life through public records, news stories, and social media. She saw Karamatsu’s struggle, his fight to survive as a baby, and she latched onto it. To her, Karamatsu was some kind of tragic hero, someone she believed was meant for her.”
Ichimatsu’s hands clenched into fists. “That’s insane. But why didn’t Karamatsu tell us anything about her?”
Nakajima sighed, his voice weary. “This is the nature of obsession. It doesn’t just stay on the surface. It creeps in, twists everything. He probably thought he could handle it, or maybe he didn’t know how to get out of it.”
Todomatsu finally spoke, his voice trembling with the emotions he had been holding back. “So, when Karamatsu got out of this narrative, she just snapped?”
“That’s what we believe,” Nakajima replied. “The investigation shows that when Karamatsu tried, Rika couldn’t let go. She wasn’t willing to lose him. And when he refused to comply with her expectations, she resorted to violence.”
The truth hit the brothers like a punch to the gut. The person Karamatsu had trusted, or at least allowed into his life, had been the one to take him from them. The realization was suffocating.
Nakajima continued. “We’re already working on arresting her. We’ve gathered enough evidence to charge her with his murder. But we need to make sure we have everything lined up before we make our move.”
The room was quiet for a long time. The Matsuno brothers tried to process the fact that Karamatsu had been involved with someone who was so deeply twisted, so disconnected from reality, that she would take his life. The Karamatsu they had known,the brother who’d laughed, who’d joked, who’d hidden behind a confident smile,had been hiding a torment they never saw coming.
“We’ll be in touch soon,” Nakajima said, his voice cutting through the silence. “We’ll bring her in. And then, we’ll make sure she never hurts anyone again.”
As the detectives left, the Matsunos stood together, a family united in grief but also in a shared resolve to honor Karamatsu’s memory. They couldn’t undo what had happened. But they could make sure Rika Morimoto never destroyed another life.
And so, they waited. Waited for justice. And waited for the day when they could finally begin to heal.
Days passed, but the pain never seemed to dull. The Matsuno house, once filled with laughter, teasing, and their usual chaotic energy, felt different now.
The loss of Karamatsu hung like a dark cloud over everything, casting a shadow on even the smallest moments. The brothers went through the motions, each of them quietly struggling to reconcile the version of Karamatsu they had known.
Ichimatsu, who had always been the most reserved, found himself staring at his brother’s empty spot on the bed more than he could bear. Karamatsu’s things were still scattered around, untouched. His clothes, his jacket, the small items that once filled the space with his personality, they now felt like relics of a time long gone. Ichimatsu hadn’t known what to do with any of it. He had never thought about Karamatsu in this way, as someone with secrets. The messages, the phone calls... they had all seemed so harmless at first, like some innocent flirtation. But now they were a dark window into a side of his brother he had never known.
But it wasn’t just the shock of Karamatsu’s secret life that weighed heavily on Ichimatsu. It was the realization that, somehow, they had all failed him. They hadn’t noticed how much Karamatsu had been hiding. How many small signs had slipped past them, overlooked or brushed off as just part of Karamatsu being Karamatsu. His playful facade, his charming but distant attitude—had it all been a cover?
Ichimatsu clutched the phone again, scrolling through the messages from Rika, feeling a mixture of anger and disbelief. ‘I can’t wait to see you,Karamatsu, who knows what could happen.’
It made his stomach turn. How could anyone think like that? How could Karamatsu—someone who had been through so much—end up in the clutches of someone so unstable?
jyushimatsu, who had been pacing the living room, stopped when he noticed Ichimatsu’s pained expression. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently.
Ichimatsu didn’t look up. “I just... I keep thinking about him,” he said quietly. “How did we not see it? How did we not know... that he was being pulled into something like this?”
“We couldn’t have known,” jyushimatsu said, his voice soft but filled with the same sorrow. “He kept it hidden from us. We didn’t think to ask the right questions. Maybe if we had, he wouldn’t have kept so much from us.” He paused. “Maybe we could’ve helped him.”
“But we didn’t,” Ichimatsu snapped, his voice breaking. “We were too caught up in our own lives to see he was drowning. And now... now he’s gone.”
The weight of his words hung in the air, suffocating them both. No amount of guilt could bring Karamatsu back, but the pain of not being able to protect him, of not being able to stop whatever had happened, was unbearable.
Meanwhile, the detectives were closing in on Rika Morimoto. Detective Nakajima had made it clear to the Matsunos that they were getting closer to capturing her, but they still didn’t have all the pieces.
The investigation was methodical, detailed, but it was still a waiting game. Every time they learned something new, it only made them feel more powerless. Rika wasn’t just a random woman—she had become a part of Karamatsu’s life, even if it had been a toxic and manipulative one. She had been the one to take him from them, and they couldn’t undo that.
It was late one evening when the call finally came. The detective had tracked Rika’s whereabouts, and they had enough evidence to move forward. Rika had been arrested and was being held for questioning.
The brothers were gathered in the living room, the space still feeling cold and unfamiliar without Karamatsu’s presence. Osomatsu, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, stood up when the phone rang.
“This is it,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “We’re going to know the truth.”
The next morning, the Matsuno brothers were summoned to the police station. The detectives had arranged a meeting with them to go over the details of Rika’s interrogation. It was time to confront the truth, no matter how painful.
Rika Morimoto, when they finally met her, was not the image the Matsunos had expected. She was a woman in her late twenties, small and unassuming, with wide eyes that darted nervously between the detectives and the Matsuno brothers.
Her hands were trembling slightly, and there was a nervousness to her demeanor that made her seem almost... fragile. But there was something unsettling in her gaze. It was the look of someone who was cornered, but not truly sorry.
Detective Nakajima started the questioning. “Rika, we’ve been investigating Karamatsu Matsuno’s death, and we know you had a relationship with him. Can you tell us about it?”
Rika’s voice was quiet, almost meek. “I..I loved him. He was the one I had been waiting for. All these years, I had watched him, seen his story. He was supposed to be with me.”
The words sent a shiver down the Matsuno brothers’ spines. This was the woman who had taken Karamatsu from them. This was the one who had twisted their brother’s life into something dark and uncontrollable.
“How long had you been seeing him?” Nakajima asked, keeping his tone steady.
“We met about a year ago,” Rika said, her voice soft, but her eyes grew more intense as she spoke. “I reached out to him after seeing an interview he did. We talked online at first... and then, we met in person. He told me I was the only one who understood him, that he couldn’t find anyone who really got him. We were perfect together.”
Ichimatsu’s breath hitched. Karamatsu had said that to her? The words felt like a betrayal, a knife twisting in his chest. He couldn’t imagine his brother,telling someone he barely knew that he’d found understanding with them.
“Did he ever talk about ending things with you?” Nakajima pressed.
Rika’s eyes flicked to the floor, and for a moment, there was a crack in her mask. “He... he was pulling away from me. He said he needed space, that he needed time. I couldn’t lose him. I couldn’t. I..I loved him too much.”
The detectives exchanged a look. They already knew where this was heading.
“You didn’t take kindly to him wanting to end things, did you?” Nakajima asked, his voice calm but firm.
Rika’s eyes flashed with a dark intensity, and she shook her head, her voice shaking. “No. No, I couldn’t let him go. He was mine. I loved him. And he... he didn’t understand. He didn’t understand that we were meant to be together.”
Her voice broke at the end, but there was no remorse in her eyes—only the burning obsession that had driven her to this point.
The truth was now clear. Rika’s obsession had spiraled into something lethal. When Karamatsu had tried to end things, when he had tried to escape the suffocating grasp she had on him, Rika had decided that she couldn’t let go.
In the most brutal way possible, she had made sure that he would never escape her again.
The detectives nodded, as if everything had fallen into place. “You knew how far he’d come in his life,” Nakajima continued, “but you couldn’t stand to see him move on. You couldn’t stand that he might find someone else or... or that he might actually be happy.”
Rika’s response was chilling in its simplicity. “He was supposed to be with me. He was mine, and no one could take him away.”
As the detectives led Rika out of the room to begin the formal arrest process, the Matsunos stood frozen in place.
The woman who had taken Karamatsu’s life wasn’t some stranger off the street. She was someone who had known him, had wormed her way into his life, pretending to be a friend, a lover, someone who understood him, until the moment she couldn’t get what she wanted.
The brothers left the police station that day with no satisfaction. They knew that Rika would be locked away for what she’d done, but it didn’t change the fact that their brother was gone. All they had were memories now, memories of a brother they thought they knew, of a family they had taken for granted.
But one thing was certain: Karamatsu’s life would not be forgotten. And neither would his death.
The days following Rika’s arrest felt like they were passing in a blur. The Matsuno brothers went through the motions, but everything was muted.
The grief had settled into their bones, and no amount of time seemed to make it hurt any less. They’d gotten justice for Karamatsu, they’d caught the woman who had taken his life, but somehow that wasn’t enough to make it better. The pieces of their family felt shattered, and no amount of truth could glue them back together.
It was a bright, sunny afternoon when Osomatsu found himself, staring at the things his brother had left behind. His favorite leather jacket was slung across the back of a chair, as if Karamatsu had just tossed it there after a long day out. His shoes were neatly lined up by the door, and on his desk, a half-open book lay next to a half-drunk cup of coffee. It was all so... Karamatsu. But it was also wrong, because he was gone, and none of this made any sense anymore.
Osomatsu ran a hand through his hair, frustration building up once again. He had spent the past week trying to make sense of it all—why Karamatsu had been so secretive, why none of them had noticed the signs, why they hadn’t been there for him when he needed them. But every time he thought about it, the anger just bubbled up again. Anger at Rika, at himself, at the way things had spiraled out of control.
“Osomatsu?” A soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and he turned to find Todomatsu standing in the doorway, looking just as lost as he felt. “Are you okay?”
Osomatsu gave a short, humorless laugh. “Yeah, I’m just... thinking. I don’t know how to do this. How to go on without him.”
Todomatsu stepped into the room, his eyes flicking to the familiar objects scattered across Karamatsu’s desk. He said nothing for a long moment, then finally spoke, his voice quieter than usual. “I feel the same way. I keep waiting for him to walk through the door, to come back and make everything feel normal again. But he won’t.”
There was a heaviness in the air between them, a sadness that neither of them knew how to deal with. They had all been so focused on their own lives, on their own struggles, that they hadn’t realized how far gone Karamatsu had been. They hadn’t seen that, beneath his bravado and charm, he was carrying something darker.
Todomatsu took a seat on the bed, his posture tense. “I keep thinking about the last time I saw him. He was so... happy. He was practically glowing that morning. He asked me if his outfit looked good or not. And I... I didn’t know. I didn’t know it would be the last time I’d hear his voice.”
The ache in Osomatsu’s chest tightened. He wanted to say something comforting, but there was nothing he could say. Not this time. Not when the world had changed so drastically. “I thought he was just messing around with some girl, you know?” Osomatsu said, his voice thick. “I thought it was just a phase. But... he was really in it. He really thought he’d found someone.”
They both stood in silence for a long time, just absorbing the enormity of it all.
The next morning, the family gathered together in the living room. Matsuyo, their mother, was sitting quietly with her hands folded in her lap, her eyes red from days of crying. The loss was written on her face, a silent grief that had become a constant companion.
“Osomatsu,” she said softly, her voice hoarse. “Have you heard from the detective? Is it really over?”
Osomatsu looked at his mother, feeling the weight of her question. He nodded, though it didn’t feel real. “Rika’s behind bars. She won’t hurt anyone else.”
Matsuyo wiped her eyes. “But we still don’t have him back. We still don’t have Karamatsu.”
Todomatsu, who had been standing by the window, his eyes distant, turned to face the family. “I know it’s not enough, but we did get answers. And the detective said that we can start moving on. We know who did this. We know why it happened.”
Ichimatsu, who had been silent up until now, let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He stared at his phone screen, still open to the final messages Karamatsu had sent.
The ones that had shown just how far gone Rika had been her obsession, her possessiveness. He couldn’t help but feel disgusted. He hadn’t known this side of Karamatsu, this hidden world that his brother had lived in. It was as if Karamatsu had been fighting a battle that no one had even known about.
“We need to remember him for who he really was,” Ichimatsu said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. “Not just the version we thought we knew, but the real Karamatsu. He was a person, not just an idea. He didn’t deserve what happened to him.”
There was a long silence after Ichimatsu’s words. No one seemed to know how to respond to that.
Finally, Osomatsu cleared his throat. “I think we should visit his grave. We need to remember him, honor him. We need to keep his memory alive, even if it’s just the five of us now.”
Matsuyo nodded, her eyes full of quiet sorrow but also gratitude. “He was a part of us. And he always will be.”
Later that day, the Matsunos found themselves standing together in front of Karamatsu’s grave. It was a simple stone marker, inscribed with his name and the dates of his birth and death. The flowers that had been placed there were fresh, vibrant, a reminder that Karamatsu’s life had not been in vain, even if it had been tragically short.
Osomatsu stood in front of the grave, his head bowed, his heart heavy. “Karamatsu,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.. I’m sorry I didn't see it sooner. I’m sorry I couldn't protect you. But I promise, we’re going to remember you. We’re going to live for you, even if you’re not here anymore.”
Ichimatsu and Jyushimatsu, who had been standing beside him, let out shaky breath and both said. “We’re going to make sure your life means something. You’re not forgotten.”
Todomatsu, always the quiet one, finally spoke. “I’ll make sure I never forget how you looked at us, how you smiled. I’ll make sure the world knows that you were more than just a pretty face. You were a person, Karamatsu. And we loved you.”
Choromatsu stepped forward, placing a hand on Karamatsu’s grave. “We’ll keep you with us. Always. No one can take that from us.”
And so, as they stood together in the cemetery, the Matsunos made a silent vow to their lost brother. They would honor his memory, even if they couldn’t bring him back. They would keep Karamatsu alive in their hearts, in their stories, and in the lessons they had learned from his untimely death.
Karamatsu had been more than just a brother. He had been a fighter. And though he was gone, his spirit would never truly leave them.