Breaking Through the Iron Wall - Aone Takanobu x Reader

Chapter 18

Without a moment's hesitation, Futakuchi bombarded his shoulder into the door frenziedly – his face the epitome of panic. Relentlessly. Not ever stopping to take a breath, nor recognising the fact that he was probably injuring his shoulder beyond relief. Furrowing his brow, he wiped at the sweat accumulating on his forehead from the sudden rush of adrenaline, and the fact that he would simply not give up. "Hey! Takanobu! Please, just listen to me. Stop whatever you're doing... Right now." Kenji commanded, heaving unsteadily, wincing at the discomfort from his shoulder. "Please... You're my best friend."

Right then, I witnessed something I never believed I could set my eyes upon, the stoic yet master cajoler, Futakuchi Kenji shedding a tear. His desperation to see his truest friend unharmed taking precedent over everything else.

Gathering his remaining strength, he gulped down his nervousness, his Adam's apple bobbing in inhibition. With the force of a wrecking ball, he collided into the door, shouting out in agony he clutched his marred shoulder, his face writhing in anguish – but alas, the door had finally been opened.

Behind it was a greatly dishevelled Takanobu, in a crumpled heap on the floor, various objects from the medicine cabinet strewn about it. However, what concerned me immediately was the unscrewed bottle of bleach, clumsily set next to the trembling wreck. Darting right to Takanobu's side – I cupped his lolling head with my unsteady hand, firmly grasping his shuddering palm with the other. He could barely keep his eyes open.

Trying to muster the calmest, unwavering voice I could, I tried to reach out to him, but all to no avail – no matter how hard I tried, there was no response. Almost as if he was drifting away to another plane of being. He didn't even shed a single tear.

Right at that moment, the mood snapped, as did Futakuchi. Not caring that the bleach bottle was entirely unscrewed, he yanked it from the floor, his eyes seething with an emotion that I couldn't quite place into one category. But there was one thing I could see: desperation. "Takanobu," he spat between gritted teeth, "How much did you drink?" No response. "HOW MUCH DID YOU FUCKING DRINK, TAKANOBU? YOU NEED TO TELL ME!" Takanobu flinched, burying his head into the crook of my neck.

"Futakuchi." I said, my tone laced with warning. "Calm down."

"NO, (Y/N). I CAN'T CALM DOWN. IF YOU HAVENT NOTICED, MY BEST FRIEND IS DYING AND YOU'RE DOING NOTHING LIKE THE SELFISH BITCH YOU ARE! SO JUST SHUT UP AND HELP ME."

I took a deep breath, not wanting to ascend to his level of anger, "Kenji, I-"

"Do you even care about him?" he spat, venom adorning every inch of his words.

"Of course, I do." I glared back at him, "But, Kenji – now really isn't the time for this." I sighed heavily at the floor, "You should know what your priorities should be in this moment in time."

Faintly, Takanobu whimpered into my collarbone, Futakuchi taking an instant notice to it. "You're right." He deadpanned, his voice still swarming with fury.

Taking my free hand, I gently cupped Takanobu's face, lifting it so we were eye to eye. "Hey..." I nearly whispered, "How much did you drink?"

Burying his head in his shoulders, Takanobu stifled a cascade of tears. "Only a little." He answered, his voice gruff and hoarse from the pure agony he was experiencing.

"Thank you for telling me," I smiled, trying to distract the snivelling wreck from his sombre thoughts. "Just don't try to vomit, okay? Or if you feel like you need to, tell me. It'll only hurt you more and we don't want that at all."

"What're you talking about? Leant against the bathroom wall, arms folded, Kenji scowled once again, "You're hurting him more by not making him throw up." He glowered, returning to his cynical mood.