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Choromatsu backed away further down the hall as the four older students slowly cornered him. This was bad. This was very, very bad. He clutched his right hand tightly around his left one. Around the place where his ring and pinky fingers had used to be.
"I still can't believe it, man," one said.
"I know, right?" replied another.
Choromatsu swallowed. If he tried to run past them, they could grab him. If he ran further down the hallway, they'd chase him. If he called for help-- well, then the entire school would know. All he could do was prolong this nightmare. Where was Osomatsu when he needed him?
The biggest, meanest kid out of the four held up Choromatsu's broken-off ring finger and shook his head, "it's actually really funny," he half-chuckled, "you Matsuno sextuplets are just completely rotten, you're the scum of the earth, and yet..." He bit the severed finger in half and grinned evilly.
"You're made of candy."
"Please, just leave me alone," Choromatsu said, for what was probably the hundredth time.
"Nahhh, we don't wanna!"
"Stop being so greedy, Matsuno."
"Yeah, we only want a little! Didn't your mom ever teach you to share?"
"It can't hurt that much, you're not even bleeding."
"Go away!" Choromatsu shouted at them. He hated appearing so cowardly in front of these bullies, but the strength of himself and the other sextuplets lied in their numbers; he was completely overpowered on his own. The biggest bully strode forwards and gripped the collar of Choromatsu's uniform in his fist.
"Hey, if you're solid peppermint bark, does that mean if we snap your head off, you'll live?"
"Oh, no. No. No, no, no, no, no, no..." Choromatsu found himself babbling. He'd lost fingers before; sometimes a toe or a chip out of his ear, but with time and sugar, they always grew back. He hadn't suffered a serious injury, like decapitation, before. He didn't know if he could survive that. He didn't want to find out. One of the smaller bullies opened the door to the men's restroom, and they flung Choromatsu inside. If they did anything to him in here, nobody would see it.
"Don't make this any harder than it has to be, Matsuno-san," the big bully smiled and put his hands on his hips. Before Choromatsu could duck into one of the stalls and hide, two of the others moved and grabbed his arms, hoisting him up and turning him to face the big bully again. Choromatsu cursed and kicked his legs out, thrashing in their grip, but they held him fast, and he couldn't get loose.
The big bully wrapped his hand around Choromatsu's right wrist, and placed another on his elbow. "Ya might wanna hold still," he said.
"Please, no!" Choromatsu yelled, then screamed in agony as the hands violently twisted his forearm. He tried to kick at the bully as he cried out, but just couldn't land a solid hit. Then, CRACK. Choromatsu felt tears threatening at the corners of his eyes, and the sharp pain in his arm was gone. All feeling past his elbow was gone. The horrible quartet leaned in as their leader slowly pulled Choromatsu's forearm out from its sleeve. The severed limb was stiff, frozen in the position it'd been in before it had been broken off; they marveled at the end of it-- instead of blood and bone, a snowy white crust subtly marbled with emerald green and flecks of red showed in the wound.
The two bullies holding Choromatsu released his shoulders, and he sank to the floor. The fight had left him, along with his right hand. Frightfully, he pawed at his half-empty sleeve. Maybe it'll be fine, he thought, maybe I can just lick the ends and they'll stick back together. He looked up, then felt a sob choke out of his throat as he saw them begin to pass the limb between each other, taking turns taking bites out of it. That is, if there's anything left of it, he thought miserably.
"Don't look so sad, Matsuno," one said, as Choromatsu drew his knees up to his forehead and hid his face, "you taste really fucking delicious."
"Yeah," another piped up, "how does that even work?"
"Maybe it's what he eats? I dunno, he goes to the cafeteria with the rest of us..."
Choromatsu was barely listening to them as he sat curled up on the bathroom floor. If they'd discovered that he was made of peppermint bark, what would they do when they found out that Osomatsu was made of cinnamon candy, or Todomatsu was made of strawberry cake? He didn't even want to think about what they'd do to poor Karamatsu. These bullies were cruel, but, unfortunately, they weren't stupid. It wouldn't be long now before they figured that his siblings also each shared an unusual composition, and would become tasty targets for these awful people.
"Choromatsu-niisan?" a concerned voice spoke up as another figure stepped cautiously into the restroom. It was Jyushimatsu.
Oh, thank God. Choromatsu's fear-stiffened posture immediately relaxed at the sight of his second-youngest little brother, his legs unfolding as he positioned himself more comfortably on the floor. Oh, thank God.
"Hey, look. It's another one," one of the bullies said. Jyushimatsu looked down at his older brother, at his missing fingers and mutilated arm. Almost inaudible, a tiny sound vibrated through the room, before going silent again.
"You leave my niisan alone!" Jyushimatsu balled his hands into fists, drawing himself up straight against the four of them.
"Or what?" came a reply, as a bully pointed mockingly at him with Choromatsu's severed limb.
"Yeah, we outnumber you four to one!"
"No way your big brother can help you, here."
Jyushimatsu's mouth was a firm line as he clenched his fists even tighter. That tiny sound came back, and Choromatsu heard it this time. He smiled. He could almost cry, he was so relieved.
"Go away! Forget any of this ever happened," Jyushimatsu said, his tone serious. The four bullies all laughed, and their leader stepped forwards, towering over him.
"Say, what're you made of, little fella?" he grinned, "is it frosting? Cookies?" The others made oohs and ahhs of anticipation.
Jyushimatsu didn't answer him, he was shaking, "go away," he said again.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," the big bully shook his head, "well, there's one way for us to find out. Right, guys?"
"Yeah!"
As they stalked over to him, Choromatsu heard that noise again-- picking up pitch and volume rapidly.
Oh, thank God.
Choromatsu felt his heart slow as he calmed. He wondered how it worked, considering that his body was a solid, non-flesh substance; but he and his brothers had always found it better not to question how their bodies functioned.
As the big bully grabbed Jyushimatsu by his shoulders, his companions got a strange look. They must've finally noticed the sound, too.
"What the hell is that?"
Oh, thank God.
The sound grew louder and louder, filling up the whole restroom. The four bullies stared dumbly at Jyushimatsu. Choromatsu averted his eyes.
Thank God.
Thank God.
Thank God Jyushimatsu's made of wasps.