It was torture, being surrounded by such beautiful people in such a beautiful place—one in which they had always existed; where they had always belonged. When you moved here only a few years back, the Matsunos were so kind, readily accepting you despite how differently you spoke and looked—you weren’t from Japan, after all. And despite how grateful you truly, authentically were, it was still torment to watch how the sextuplets fawned over the beautiful Totoko. Of course, you understood--they had known her since childhood, and had liked her ever since. It didn't come as a surprise that they were so attached to her, but your rationalization still wouldn't deter that feeling of inadequacy--was it so wrong of you to desire one of the already-captivated Matsus? Since your arrival in this quaint town, you had been so skittish--it was hard to blend in, and it felt like everyone was watching your every move--Ichimatsu reflected similar feelings in his own life. Despite being raised here, never having left, he still felt like an outcast in his own way. When you had first met, he would hardly look at you as his brothers each vied for your attention. Since that day, you had grown closer to each of them--including the purple Matsu himself. You got along surprisingly well, and spent the most time together. So, did you really have a reason to feel so shitty when Totoko waltzed by their home and had the boys nearly doubling over in an effort to earn her affections? So caught up in your own haze, you hadn't even noticed Ichimatsu's absence--he was standing on the sidelines, invested in a cat rather than Totoko. Shutting the door with too much force, Ichimatsu flinched at the sudden noise, head whipping towards your home. When did you step outside, and why did that act have so much force? Were you upset? Ichimatsu sulked as he glanced at the pitiful condition of his brothers, slinking over to your home to softly knock on your door.