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[ GN!Reader ] ➜ PARANOIA

         ╰┈➤ The work of Double Face has left Kohaku a guarded person. Out of habit, he pushes you away in an attempt to save you from the dirty work— but you're determined to stay, even if it means sitting through one of the worst panic attacks.

        PANIC ATTACK SYMPTOM WARNING!!!
                                 ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

       The darkest hour of the night fell. In a hotel room, one paid for entirely by you, rested Kohaku Oukawa. He eyed his phone screen longingly for several moments, staring deeply into his own reflection. He recalled the things that he has done. While he was completely alone, he felt himself hollowing. A rift ripped through his chest. Once he said his goodbyes to his unit-mates, he couldn't help but feel sinking horror. Terror that someday, Double Face will extend into his and Madara's personal lives. Kohaku, desperately battling his own thoughts, envisioned the sights of the enemies that he has made hovering over what would be left of his loved ones. It made his stomach churn with disgust. In that moment, Kohaku wanted to vomit. He couldn't tolerate the sights of what misfortune he would bring upon everyone that he has grown so close to.
In a dark corner of the spacious bedroom assigned to only him, Kohaku nestled himself. He hid within the darkness of the shadows, hugging his knees close to his chest as he restrained the urge to faint. His head was swirling with thoughts that were gradually growing more and more incoherent. In truth, he'd never really experienced something like that in such an intense wave. In evident fear, Kohaku lifted his slender hands up to the sides of his neat, pink hair. As his fingers slid between the silky and soft strands, he felt his body slicking with sweat. He could only choke out feeble whimpers for help as he prayed someone would help him.

It didn't take long for Kohaku to shakily reach up to the bedside to grasp his phone. Nestled between the bed frame and the wall, Kohaku began to search for your contact. His thumb hesitated over the screen. With panicked breaths, he debated with himself on whether he should bother you or not. He murmured to himself, berating himself even as his thumb grew heavy enough to call you. Shaking violently, Kohaku placed his phone against his ear, praying to no one at all that you'd answer his desperate cries for help.

"Hello? Kohaku?"

The sound of your voice sent tears pricking Kohaku's violet eyes. "Hey." He said, his voice evidently strained.
"Hm? Is something wrong?" Your voice questioned. You didn't sound tired at all— that seemed to ease Kohaku's nerves ever so slightly.
He feebly answered. "...yeah. This is pathetic but— please come over." He whispered his pleas.
You didn't hesitate. "I'll be there in two minutes. I have your room number, I just need a key." The urgency in your voice put Kohaku even more on edge.
He felt as though the walls would collapse in on him. He felt as though the entire world was spiraling in his vision, barreling out of control and leaving him feeling sickened. "Check your bag. You— you should have one." Said Kohaku, his eyes gradually threatening to succumb to tears.
"Ah, thanks, Kohaku!" Your voice replied with evident happiness. "I'll be there. Stay with me, okay?"
Kohaku didn't reply. He didn't have the chance to. He could feel his throat tightening, but not in a way that would signify some sort of reaction— it felt as though he'd vomit. Before long, Kohaku began to heave his breaths. He clasped his sweating hands over his pale face, covering his dry lips as a means of stopping himself from vomiting. His shoulders shook as he began to feel his sides tightening, his gags growing more and more audible the more he attempted to restrain them. He could begin to feel his throat burning. An intense wave of terror washed over Kohaku's trembling frame as he envisioned himself vomiting. He typically wasn't afraid of such a thing, but his state seemed to make him oddly vulnerable.

Moments later, the door swung open. It was gently closed with a soft click of the latch and the lock. Kohaku clasped his hand over his mouth, preventing himself from breathing as he feared who had arrived— although his conscious self told him that it was simply you, his producer. In his panicked state, he observed the shoes that raced into the bedroom in utter silence as he shook violently.
"Kohaku?!" Your voice called as you scanned the room.
A low, poorly suppressed gag was his only response. As expected, you whirled around the corner to peer between the bed and the wall. It soon registered to you that this was about to be a terribly dark experience.
Kohaku could feel his heart racing as though it'd break through his ribcage. He could barely inhale without gagging violently in response. Despite his best efforts to stay calm, Kohaku's mind was racing. His body was shaking violently. He couldn't move himself even if he tried his absolute best. In that moment, his lungs were weak and so was he. He could not defend himself. He feared that you'd attack him. That sense of horrid danger escalated as Kohaku's body shuttered with yet another intense dry heave.

Your knees met the carpeted floors as you slowly began to shift closer to Kohaku. His response was that of pure fear. He flinched back, shaking so terribly that he was forced to shut his eyes to even be able to tolerate existing. As much as you wanted to charge at him and ease his pains, you knew it'd be best to take everything slowly. So, you began by placing your hand on top of his pink hair. Your palm gingerly nestled amidst his somewhat unruly hair as you smiled at him. "Hi." You whispered.
Kohaku met your gaze. He inhaled deeply, afterwards heaving a sound that was akin to vomiting, but his body could not bring anything up. You watched the display in evident shock. What could have triggered this?

"Breathe," your gentle voice reminded Kohaku. "Just breathe. What's going on?" You asked while shifting your touch down to Kohaku's forearms, your eyes maintaining eye contact.
He forced himself to inhale, though he was the palest you've ever seen him. "I— I don't know.." he choked out between panicked breaths and soft, barely audible whines.
Accepting that response, you carefully observed your options. All the while, Kohaku visibly spiraled deeper and deeper into his anguishes. He clutched the sides of his head, causing his silky pink hair to stir out of place. His purple eyes were squeezed shut out of pure terror. The display sank your heart, but you knew that with time, it would pass. The problem at hand was passing that knowledge to Kohaku.
You placed the palm of your hand on the top of his hair. "It's okay," you awkwardly began. "...it'll be okay." You told him, unsure of what else to do.
Kohaku gazed deeply into your eyes, gradually succumbing to tears as he was met with your gentle and heartfelt consolation— something he had never felt before. Unlike his usual self, Kohaku threw himself directly at you. The momentum from his sudden lurch as his body crashed into yours sent you falling back onto your back end as you caught Kohaku's shivering frame in your hands.

A sense of relief began to flow through Kohaku's tense body. He placed his head upon your shoulder, shutting his eyes as he forced himself to slow his panic. Your arms found his sides as you embraced him tightly. "It's okay to cry." You softly told him.
And cry he did. Kohaku completely undid on your shoulder with his ears crying a monsoon. He cried and cried with barely any time to breathe in between. There was uncertainty in his cries. There was fear in his sniffles. But there was comfort in your embrace. Within your voice and gentle consolation, Kohaku's frame no longer shook so violently. While still a mess, he was significantly better than before you showed up. That was all you asked for.

This moment of vulnerability was precisely what both you and Kohaku needed. Within this moment, you finally pieced together everything about Kohaku. You were finally exposed to the truth of his sharp-tongued disposition and his overall harsh demeanor towards others— especially good people. You understood in that moment that all he wanted was to protect them. In the end, he was only panicking because he thought he'd end up ruining everyone else's lives.
With that in mind, you cradled the back of Kohaku's head as you held him as close as physically possible. "Thank you, Kohaku." You whispered to him.
He grasped your clothes, replying with a soft cry. You buried your face into his soft, pink hair. You inhaled the delicate layers of his perfume. Even as he cried, he seemed happy to be around you. You felt the same.

With a soft sniff, Kohaku subtly huffed into your collarbone. "...sorry, Producer." He murmured. Your eyes closed as Kohaku's body began to grow limp, signifying that he had just passed out. You continued to tenderly hold onto him, drying his eyes even though he was not conscious in the moment to feel it.
"It's fine," you whispered to the still air. "I'll love you no matter what." Your words fell upon deaf ears.

But that was fine. No one needed to hear it for it to be true.