Tarkat

Chapter 5

Kenshi was worried about his friend. It wasn't like Johnny to not show up to a tournament, even if he wasn't fighting. He knew Johnny loved watching the fights. With the faint it made Kenshi even more worried, Johnny wasn't answering his phone.

Kenshi knocks on the actors front door.

He remembers when Lord Lu Kang had told them earlier that day that Johnny wasn't coming back. It felt weird not having him around. It was quieter, no movie star rambling about god knows what in Kenshi's ear.

There was no response to Kenshi's knock. He bangs the door louder, hoping Johnny had just not heard him or was taking a nap.

Johnny and Kenshi had fun watching together. Even Kung Lao was a little bummed out with Johnny leaving. He enjoyed answering Johnny's stupid questions.

Still no answer. Kenshi knocks again, this time yelling Johnny's name in as well.

Yet again, no answer.

"You better be okay Johnny." Kenshi sighs, getting his shoulder in position to the door, ready to break it down. Kenshi had done this many times, though not to a friend's house. Kenshi takes a deep breath in, then out. He launches himself into the door, breaking it.

Kenshi stands in the doorway, waiting for Sento to grant him more vision. Sento guides him through the mansion, giving him directions and little vision. First he checks the living room. Kenshi feels the couch as Sento doesn't give him good depth perception. Nothing.

Kenshi then checks the hallway leading to the laundry room, not expecting to find him there he doesn't take long.

He then goes into the laundry room, it was small so he could see it all and nothing appeared to be different.

Kenshi goes back to the main entrance. It was a large room, Johnny's kitchen and living room mixed together, as well as the pool. The pool was a little back so no one could fall into it while getting out of the living room, but it was still a hazard.

"If Johnny had passed out again and fell into the pool..." Kenshi stops his thought, wishing that's not where he finds him.

Kenshi goes into the kitchen. As soon as he walks in, he stumbles on something. "What the hell." Kenshi looks down, Johnny lays there. "What the hell did you do johnny?" Kenshi bends down, taking the actor by his shoulders and carrying him to the couch and laying him down. "Johnny." The swordsman says loudly, shaking him by the shoulders. Johnny's eyes open slightly, as if they were allergic to the light. "What the fuck." Johnny whispers, putting his hand onto forehead, like he was trying to rub out a headache. Johnny opens his eyes all the way, looking to his right, seeing Kenshi. He almost looks scared when he sees Kenshi's face. Johnny sits up and gets off of the couch. "What are you doing here Takahashi?" He asks in a suspicious way. "You weren't answering your phone, I got worried." He says calmly. "I turned it off." Johnny puts his hand up to his mouth, not wanting Kenshi to even sense his teeth. "That's not like you." Kenshi argues. "Sorry I turned my phone off once." Johnny sounds annoyed. "Johnny, are you okay?" Takahashi asks after a silence. "I'm a grown man, of course I'm fine." Johnny lies, turning his back to Kenshi. "Just go." Johnny says in a quieter tone. "Cage if you're dealing with something I want to know." Kenshi sounds more serious as the seconds go by. "I'm not 'dealing' with anything." Cage exaggerates his words, trying to give Kenshi a hint. "Cage, you passed out in a fight. That seems like a problem." Kenshi crosses his arms, stepping closer to Johnny. "Yeah and? Everyone has sick days." Johnny puts his hands into fists. "Just tell me if you need help, Johnny." Kenshi sighs. "And I will when I need to." Johnny responds. "Just leave." Johnny adds on in a demanding voice. "Fine." Kenshi coldly says. He walks to the door, stopping to look back at Johnny, Sento allowing it. Something catches his eye in the kitchen. It was a foam tray that seemed to be ripped to pieces. Johnny sighs, giving Kenshi yet another hint. He walks out, not wanting to have angered his friend more.

—

After his 'fight' with Kenshi, Johnny goes to his bathroom to clean up. He felt dirty. Maybe sleeping on the floor in chicken juices did it to him.

He turns the shower on, letting it warm up as he gets a towel out of the closet. As he puts the towel on the counter, he catches a glimpse of himself, and his mouth. "Shit," He swears, seeing his teeth have grown pointier and more grotesque. Why did it have to be his face? He was an actor. It was his entire job. "I'm done with this bull." He whispers as it hurts his lips to speak. He runs down to his garage.

Johnny wasn't that too into mechanics. In school he preferred the sciences and arts, but he knew his way around a workshop. In highschool his father told him that 'drama is for girls' and he wanted him to take a shop class. His father was always telling him stuff like that.

Johnny opens a big red toolbox, he keeps it around in case he needs to fix something on his car. Johnny takes a pair of pliers out of the toolbox. He runs back upstairs, putting the towel down on the floor, in case he makes a mess.

Johnny puts the pair of plies into his mouth. "Molars first." He thinks the back teeth wouldn't ruin his look. He would keep most of his teeth, but the back ones hurt the most. "3,2,1." Johnny takes a deep breath in and pulls. It hurt like hell, blood splattering onto the towel underneath him. He throws the tooth into the sink along with the pliers. He puts his hand up to his mouth to stop the bleeding a little. Johnny feels his gums with his tongue. Something was growing back already, what the hell, it was his tooth. It grew back in almost an instant. Johnny turns the shower off, not wanting to waste too much water.

Johnny tries taking the same tooth out again and again and again. It grows back each time. The floor was drenched in his blood, but somehow he hadn't passed out.

After many trials, Johnny quits, slamming the pliers down onto the counter. They were now lying in a puddle of blood. "fuck , fuck, fuck!" Johnny gets more angry by the second, resulting in him punching the mirror. It shatters into millions of pieces, cutting his hand up.