[He shouldn't have had to, no. It wasn't right, and Ichimatsu knew it wasn't, somewhere in his depraved little soul. But the consistency with which Karamatsu took a beating and stood right back up, smiling and pretending he was fine, it became routine. Ichimatsu had never learned who he was well enough to have a ground to stand on when it came to being insulted, so he did it for himself. He hated himself more than anyone else ever could, because then it could never hurt. He pushed everyone away, he spat on their kindness, all the while never figuring out how to say that all he ever wanted was to be accepted. He was gross, and he was anxious, and he was mean, unnecessarily so, and especially to the one brother he probably could have easily gotten disgustingly coddled and spoiled by.]
[But maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe the fact that Karamatsu was so willing and forthcoming with praise and affection was what made Ichimatsu push it away so violently. It felt fake, just like the fucking rest of him. Karamatsu was probably the only one of them with any shred of genuine kindness to him, save for Jyushimatsu who was regularly too strange to decipher, and yet he spent so much time drawing on designer eyebrows and wearing fancy pants and trying to be someone he wasn't that Ichimatsu never took the time to notice their frustration in his act was actually hurting him. Maybe he did notice. Maybe he just didn't care. Didn't want to care. Why should he? If he could take endless verbal beatings from them, sometimes physical from himself, and still have the will to pretend it was okay, why should he? Karamatsu's confidence and tenacity were things Ichimatsu wanted so desperately for himself he could taste them like sour bile in the back of his throat.]
[And really, it's probably the ease with which his punch knocks him down that snaps what little grasp on sanity the fourth born had at this point.]
[He watches him drop, momentarily startled, and then realizes it's because Karamatsu didn't fight back. He didn't even resist, he just let Ichimatsu's fist hit him, and went over like a sack of useless fucking potatoes. Soggy ones that were molded and gross, that you couldn't even peel and eat. It sets his insides absolutely on fire, and he reaches out as Karamatsu speaks to grab him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him up by it. The best he probably got was dragging him to his knees, but if it brought him closer so his yelling had more impact, that was fine.]
You know you are? Do you? I don't think you fucking do at all, Shittymatsu!
[He pushes his weight back into him, throwing him down.]
Because if you fucking knew, if you understood how stupid you are, when you act like that, you'd have stopped before it started! You're-- that's all you fucking are!
[He's pacing, now, back and forth in a short track where he throws his hands around and only periodically stops or looks at his brother. He pauses, then, heaving like the tantrum exhausted him, and drops his hands to finally look at him.]
[He's fucking pathetic. Crumpled in an awkward little heap, welt on his face already blooming red and purple, likely to be swollen within an hour. And he knows he's an idiot. With an exasperated huff, Ichimatsu throws his hands in the air one final time, dragging them down his face when they come back down.]
An act. That's all you are. That's all you have been, since-- what, drama? In high school? What the fuck makes you think any of us want our brother to pretend he's someone other than our stupid fucking brother?
no subject
[But maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe the fact that Karamatsu was so willing and forthcoming with praise and affection was what made Ichimatsu push it away so violently. It felt fake, just like the fucking rest of him. Karamatsu was probably the only one of them with any shred of genuine kindness to him, save for Jyushimatsu who was regularly too strange to decipher, and yet he spent so much time drawing on designer eyebrows and wearing fancy pants and trying to be someone he wasn't that Ichimatsu never took the time to notice their frustration in his act was actually hurting him. Maybe he did notice. Maybe he just didn't care. Didn't want to care. Why should he? If he could take endless verbal beatings from them, sometimes physical from himself, and still have the will to pretend it was okay, why should he? Karamatsu's confidence and tenacity were things Ichimatsu wanted so desperately for himself he could taste them like sour bile in the back of his throat.]
[And really, it's probably the ease with which his punch knocks him down that snaps what little grasp on sanity the fourth born had at this point.]
[He watches him drop, momentarily startled, and then realizes it's because Karamatsu didn't fight back. He didn't even resist, he just let Ichimatsu's fist hit him, and went over like a sack of useless fucking potatoes. Soggy ones that were molded and gross, that you couldn't even peel and eat. It sets his insides absolutely on fire, and he reaches out as Karamatsu speaks to grab him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him up by it. The best he probably got was dragging him to his knees, but if it brought him closer so his yelling had more impact, that was fine.]
You know you are? Do you? I don't think you fucking do at all, Shittymatsu!
[He pushes his weight back into him, throwing him down.]
Because if you fucking knew, if you understood how stupid you are, when you act like that, you'd have stopped before it started! You're-- that's all you fucking are!
[He's pacing, now, back and forth in a short track where he throws his hands around and only periodically stops or looks at his brother. He pauses, then, heaving like the tantrum exhausted him, and drops his hands to finally look at him.]
[He's fucking pathetic. Crumpled in an awkward little heap, welt on his face already blooming red and purple, likely to be swollen within an hour. And he knows he's an idiot. With an exasperated huff, Ichimatsu throws his hands in the air one final time, dragging them down his face when they come back down.]
An act. That's all you are. That's all you have been, since-- what, drama? In high school? What the fuck makes you think any of us want our brother to pretend he's someone other than our stupid fucking brother?