#everymatsu

Matsuzo paced behind her. “It’d be a good change of pace. Indoors. Air conditioned. Just one song to memorize, instead of a full set. Air conditioned. Nice costumes, from what I gather. And I hear it’s air conditioned.”

“Costumes?” Ichimatsu and Choromatsu look each other in the eye, and make a little face. Choromatsu speaks up first. “Why would we need costumes for a gig? We usually just wear our own clothes.”

“And I’m usually set so I don’t need air conditioning,” laughs Osomatsu.

“We know.” Choromatsu says levelly. “I can count the number of shows you’ve kept your shirt on on one thumb.”

“The fans like it.”

“They’re just excitable!”

“BOYS.” Matsuyo interrupts, and her sons fall silent. “Thank you. The reason, Choromatsu, is because this isn’t a regular gig. This is a… a little different.”

“You’re selling cookies.” Matsuzo sighs.

“WHAT?”, the boys chorus, in various tones ranging from delight to horror.

“I know what you’re picturing,” Matsuzo continues, “and it’s not like you’ll be curbside, like those girl scouts.”

“It’s a commercial.” Matsuyo says firmly. “And you’ll be selling a new sort of… of breakfast cookie. Dark chocolate infused with coffee. They’re calling it ‘Ohayo Pori Choco’, and you’re supposed to be selling it like some sort of, er, indulgence.”

“Do we get free cookies?” Jyushimatsu pushes his bangs out of his eyes, serious.

“This is ridiculous. No one’s going to take us seriously as artists if we sell cookies,” complains Karamatsu. In a rare display, Ichimatsu and Totty nod in agreement.

“And according to Dekapan-sensei? You’ll be paid well.” Matsuyo holds out her piece of note paper with the circled figures triumphantly.

“Boy oh boy! I sure can’t wait to sell cookies!” Todomatsu stands up and punches the air enthusiastically, and the others cheer in agreement.

Matsuzo claps. “That’s the spirit, boys! And did I mention? There’s going to be air--”