The Disappearance of Osomatsu-san

Chapter 1: The Disappearance of The Five Little Brothers

It could have been a normal day for Osomatsu Matsuno, the neighborhood's mischief maker and leader of the infamous group of bratty troublemakers, the Matsuno Sextuplets, in which he was the eldest child and brother. It would have been a normal day in which he faced the hilarious rage of the third brother Choromatsu, in which he commented on the painful and cringe worthy nature of the second brother Karamatsu, in which he watched the shenanigans the fifth brother Jyushimatsu drag the fourth brother Ichimatsu into, and hung out and talked about random topics with the sixth brother Todomatsu. It would have been a normal day, in which the twenty-something year old NEET sextuplets always hung around the block, showing the world their bond as brothers.

It would have been normal if Choromatsu's alarm clock, which was set to ring every five minutes, didn't blast his eardrums so early in the morning and awoke him from his slumber. Perhaps he could have lived on the dream longer, not facing reality at all, and just had to deal with an angry Choromatsu and Todomatsu scolding him for sleeping so late that they had to delay their breakfast.

Osomatsu chuckled at that. His younger brothers were really funny, with both Choromatsu and Todomatsu much more mentally mature than him. Still, he had to look out for them, especially since they all live together and had to deal with their own inner demons.

He shared a futon with five of his younger brothers as some sort of headcount and as a way to calm himself, which started during their early years in high school. An incident during their elementary days scarred Osomatsu, but he couldn't deny that he would have freaked out even more if any of his little brothers had been the victim instead of him. A knife had been pressed against his throat, he had been physically abused by a robber dressed up as a lodger of some sort, and his brothers and parents could have died if not for Chibita unintentionally interfering.

He stretched his arms as he yawned, eyes still shut. As expected, Choromatsu had gotten up already, probably along with Karamatsu. Osomatsu sometimes punched the mature brother during their slumber or as soon as he woke up. Jyushimatsu, despite his hyper nature, wasn't necessarily an early riser, especially in winter, which was the current season. Jyushimatsu was on his far left, so he expected to see his younger brother curled up into a ball or something. Oddly enough, Todomatsu wasn't beside him either, in which he usually felt the youngest's foot against his stomach in a kicking position. Ichimatsu probably got up already in order to get breakfast first or something.

However, Osomatsu felt something. Instead of feeling more of the futon as he plopped his arm down as he stretched, it fell straight to the floor with a "thud". While it wasn't painful, Osomatsu's eyes snapped open as he scrambled upwards into a sitting position and looked around him.

Normal. It was the bedroom he shared with his brothers, but today, it seemed a bit spacious. The sun was blocked by the curtains, in which Osomatsu cocked his head at. At this time, with Choromatsu already up and all, he could have opened the curtains wide and rendered the rest of the brothers blind as they got exposed to the sun. But it was winter, so Osomatsu brushed it off, thinking that even fussy mother hen Choromatsu got cold. Besides.. if Choromatsu opened the window during winter, not only will everyone freeze, but Jyushimatsu will also have one hell of a temper tantrum, as the sunny brother hated the cold.

It would have been normal if Osomatsu didn't look down, didn't look to his sides, or didn't wonder at all. He noticed that the comforter he and his brothers shared seemed smaller, almost like it was meant for one person only. They must be growing, he thought. Hm, but all of them had the same height, weight, and body type! They were all getting too big for the comforter, it seemed. At least, that was what Osomatsu told himself. But when he looked at his own sleeping area and expected to see a really big futon, one they all shared, he widened his eyes.

He was on a single futon. As in, a futon for one person, and one person alone. There were no signs of five other pillows for each of his brother. Taking off the comforter and standing up to have a better look of the room, he took awhile to scan everything wrong in the room. It didn't take him five whole minutes, because everything about the room seemed so wrong as soon as he stood up.

One, there was a desk and an office chair, one which was supposed to be located to the other room in which had the couch, the room dubbed as the second living room which was reserved for the brothers. Two, there were old textbooks and comic books on a bookshelf. They didn't have a bookshelf, and all the books they owned were placed in the closet. Three, Osomatsu's old toys and his current collectibles were arranged on a glass cabinet. Again, they didn't have a glass cabinet, and all of Osomatsu's old toys were stored in a box with his brother's. The collectibles were with the comic books in the closet, but they were in a box for safekeeping. Four, there were posters decorating the wall. And not Choromatsu's autographed Nyaa-chan posters, since he never hung them at all, but posters of random chicks found on the "very normal magazines" Osomatsu kept.

It didn't look like the empty for interpretation bedroom he and his brothers shared. Rather, it looked like a bedroom Osomatsu himself would have, if he didn't have to share with his brothers. He then noticed a thick book sitting on the desk, which Osomatsu recognized as the family album. He frowned. He thought he had taped it shut and hid it in an empty closet back then. Why was it on his desk anyway- no wait, why was the album on a desk in the first place? Where'd the desk come from? Whose room did he sleep in, and why didn't he wake up to hear himself being transferred somewhere else during his sleep?

He felt a dread in his stomach. It could have been normal if Osomatsu didn't reach out to the photo album with a feeling in his chest that was screaming at him that there was something wrong. Carefully opening it and flipping a few pages, but he noticed something wrong with each and every photo. From preschool to high school graduation, to every Christmas or New Year photo, and especially every birthday picture, Osomatsu felt something wrong. And the evidence that there was something wrong was laid out in front of him. It was a picture of Osomatsu on his high school graduation, holding the diploma above his head with a wide grin. What was wrong, you may ask?

It was a picture of Osomatsu.

Not the Matsuno Sextuplets.

Just Osomatsu.

No Choromatsu awkwardly smiling beside Osomatsu as he held his diploma in glee. No Karamatsu awkwardly posing in front of the group of brothers. No Todomatsu in a sitting position with fingers in a peace sign, as he held his diploma with his free hand and a catty smile plastered on his face. No Jyushimatsu and Ichimatsu having their arms linked together as they held their diplomas above their heads, Jyushimatsu widely smiling as he ever was, and Ichimatsu having a small yet rare smile present.

But it was only Osomatsu in his graduation toga and hat, holding a certificate to signify he actually finished the educational hell known as high school. There was no secretly happy Chorofappyski beside him, no Shittymatsu raising a leg with his awkward flexibility, no Totty secretly wanting to kill his brothers hidden behind his not-so-cute facade, no Jyushimatsu with a mouth wide enough to welcome a fly into it, and no Ichimatsu to make the atmosphere seem darker than it already was.

The futon, the room, and the album held no place for the five younger brothers of Osomatsu. But something else on the room, just beside the futon, was the final nail to the coffin, the final clue to the case, to snap Osomatsu out of his fantasy and to realize that there was something absolutely wrong this morning. And all it took for Osomatsu to realize something was definitely wrong was to simply glance at the alarm clock Choromatsu brought with his own saved money for all the brothers to make use of it. That small, silver alarm clock that had been decorated with scratch marks from Ichimatsu's cats, Jyushimatsu's and Todomatsu's colorful stickers, and Karamatsu's leftover glitter from the obnoxious articles of clothing he's worn, was all it took for Osomatsu to drop the photo album and look around the room in horror and realization.

The alarm clock, that small silver piece of technology, was clean and unscratched as it was sitting next to the futon meant only for one person.