Unconventional Intimacy (What You Show Me)

AN: I couldn't sleep last night because all I could think about was writing this fic. Also, I haven't finished Arc V so there are probably inaccuracies in regard to canon.

Akaba Reiji spent a lot of time overserving: he counted stocks, observed video and audio tapes second by second, and watching statistics bounce among other things. He appeared to have no time whatsoever to devote to anything outside of his work, both superficial – maintaining the façade of education – and the depth of business. Kurosaki Shun knew this because he spent a lot of time observing Akaba.

Akaba liked to keep a close eye on things and with Shun around, unpredictable and willing to be an agent of chaos, it was better if they were in close proximity whether they liked it or not. So, to stave off boredom, Shun turned his observations into something of game. He began noticing patterns of behaviour and action. At first, it seemed that there was no time for delay in Akaba's world, one Shun was alien to and unwelcome within anyway, but soon he realised that there were tiny moments in between his grand observations when he would sit and appear to do nothing.

Not quite nothing but close.

Sometimes, things slowed but did not come to a standstill. In those few, quick moments Akaba would take a moment to relax; unwind. He'd fidget. He had this small cube, like a dice but not quite, that kept near his computer and sometimes, he would run his fingers along its grooves and protrusions. It seemed to settle him and then he could go back to work. This normally happened before lunch.

During lunch, it was like clockwork – 12:34 exactly – when Reira would visit. He would have had his own lunch by now and Akaba was just about to pause to eat too so it worked quite well. In this small bracket of time between 12:34 and 1:47, Akaba seemed to become someone else.

Shun would not call it unsettling but seeing this side of Akaba was familiar. Say it was Ruri coming through those doors at 12:34, Shun too would become the big brother; not the stoic persona he gives to the world to show he is not weak, not to be trifled with. Still, outside of those thirteen minutes, he was not with soft, doting person.

Akaba would ask his brother same the few questions to which the replies were usually a nod or a shake of his head. Very rarely did he feel the need to vocalise his answers.

'Have you eaten today?'

Nod.

'Did you like what you ate?'

Nod.

'Did you remember to brush your teeth afterwards.'

Shake.

And then Akaba smiled. He actually smiled; though Shun only saw the end of it, it was still proof that Akaba had smiled. And, stranger still, he gave half a chuckle.

'It's okay, you remembered to yesterday. Go brush your teeth later, okay?'

Nod.

It was borderline saccharine how Akaba treated Reira; even in front of Shun and anyone else. Then, their mother – their mother who bizarrely called her own son '-san', a pattern which Shun was nowhere near close to working out the reason for – would come and collect Reira and Shun would see the moment when Akaba would reconstruct himself once more as the stoic businessman for whom he controlled time and profit.

It was a tiny bit sad. Not that Shun could talk.

Then, Akaba would go onto eat his own lunch: always the same meal, elegantly prepared by his kitchen staff. Shun would get some too: seared salmon, rice, some vegetables. It was great. Better than what he would have scrounge up if left to his own devices; here or in his own world. He was grateful. As much as he hated being on such a short leash, there was benefits. Mostly bed and board but that didn't cover the permanent surveillance on him twenty-four-seven; both digital eyes and real eyes; violet eyes.

After lunch, before three o'clock, sometimes Akaba would freeze up over his computer. He'd stare at the screen; mesmerised by the light and stare. Eyes wandering but straight ahead as he was pulled into the white light sometimes hued with other colours depending on what he had been doing whether it was writing documents or counting stocks. Moreover, his hands would freeze into a position where he was ready to type, fingers outspread and his palm hovering above the space bar but he did not. He could hold this position for a long time before finally breaking through.

And after that, by six o'clock, he was reaching that little cube of his again.

Shun wondered what these moments were. They felt as though there should be something bigger than just evading stress in correlation but like most observations, little could be done with them unless concrete data could be extracted. Besides, this was just a little game he would play to stave off boredom. He was just analysing Akaba for weaknesses even; though, it would not appear that he had any other than being an incredibly boring person but an incredibly loving brother too.

Once more, like every day, the 12:04 mark was approaching. Usually, Shun stayed on the furthest wall so he didn't feel like an intruder; so they didn't feel like there was an intrusion. But not today. He had other plans. He knew for certain that yesterday, when Akaba was talking to Reira, that he had smiled. Today, he wanted to see such a cursed facial expression for himself.

No reason. Just a whim. It'd be funny. It's not like anything else.

Shun was not as stealthy was he usually was as he didn't want to accidentally give Akaba the impression the sullen dog always at his heels had finally run away for real this time.

Shun was not as stealthy was he usually was as he didn't want to accidentally give Akaba the impression the sullen dog always at his heels had finally run away for real this time. So, Shun found himself a shadow to hide in close to the entrance Reira would come through. He never strayed far from door; Akaba always met Reira there.

Then, it ticked over: it was exactly four minutes past twelve and the doors opened in perfect synchronisation with time. It was bizarre but true. Reira stepped through the doors and was immediately horrified. Akaba sighed and became tinged with irritation. He stepped away from his desk and as he passed Shun's half-hearted hiding place, gave him a nasty glare.

'It's okay, Reira. Ignore him. He's not there.'

He threw Shun another dirty, enraged look.

Try me, Shun mouthed.

Reira's hands began to shake but Akaba soon calmed him down by redirecting his attention to that stuffed animal he was always carting around. He spoke to him slowly, in a soothing voice and even Shun found himself reluctantly drawn to Akaba's unnaturally soft words. Then, it was back to normal. Once more, with the same slug of questions as always and the same answers. It never changed.

Much like the eye contact the two had. Reira had huge eyes and he always stared at something; usually a person. It was unnerving how unwavering it was; especially compared to Akaba. Akaba preferred to avoid eye contact; as was the way of the Japanese businessman. But, in this instance, Akaba was just as unyielding. Shun had never noticed that before.

It gave Shun an odd impression. Was this his natural state? The intensity of his gaze was reminiscent of how he duelled.

Shun ended up slinking off back to where he had come from. Reira relaxed significantly when he was gone. A conclusion had been drawn from all this, at long last, and Shun would bring it up later. Rather than cooping himself up with his lunch outside, he would stay in Akaba's inner sanctum and eat there. There was something oddly rebellious about it; a proper intrusion this time.

But, Akaba had other ideas. And what the president says, goes.

'Kurosaki.' he barked.

Shun cocked his head. 'Yes?'

'That little thing you just pulled was inappropriate.'

'How so?'

That picked at Akaba's frustration. He seemed to sense that Kurosaki meant offence in his ignorance; most of the time those nuances of sarcasm and hosilitity went over his head. Only when it was subtle and not straight up threats.

'It was new.' Akaba struggled to speak, for once. 'It made Reira upset.'

He didn't admit that it made himself upset too but Shun got that from the out of control manner he held. A very rare sight; usually reserved for the most desperate of simulated Duel situations.

Shun shrugged; dropped the hostility. It was pointless. Riling him up would have dire consequences but he wouldn't apologise either.

Instead, he posed a question – a daring question – and phrased it as sensitively and cautiously as he could:

'Is… is Reira…?'

But he failed, fortunately – or unfortunately depending on how the following conversation unravels – Akaba picked up what he meant.

'Autistic?'

'Yeah…'

'Yes.'

Shun didn't know what to say.

'As am I.' Akaba continued.

And suddenly, it fit. All those little observations and mannerisms clicked.

'You pass well. That can't be healthy.'

'I have my outlets, I know my limits.'

'Do I ever make you uncomfortable?' Shun asked, dropping his gaze.

'Yes. But that is mostly because you are a dangerous individual who could disrupt everything. However, in reference today: yes. You made me uncomfortable by switching up your routine.'

'Sorry.'

'What about you? You're not exactly the poster boy for good behaviour.'

'I have my outlets too.'

'Good.' Akaba pushed up his glassed but he didn't have to. He never had to but he did anyways. 'I have a schedule to keep. You clearly have brooding to do.'

Shun rolled his eyes. 'I guess…'

'I hope now we can avoid incessant confrontations like this.'

'I'm an abrasive person. I doubt it.'

'I've noticed.'

And, as it would turn out, Shun was not the only person doing some people watching. He didn't know how Akaba did it with everything else he had to watch but he did: he managed to construct Shun's patterns as well. Not just where he went, how he escaped or tried to but everything he did as a person who is so very easily bored. Akaba noticed what Shun did without his own realisation, when he balled his fists without purpose, he liked to run his thumb over the rest of his fingers; what he did intentionally; he flipped his hair after every dramatic, brooding sigh.

It was an odd little game of observations but it was also very unconventionally intimate.

:

AN: If I have portrayed autism insensitively in anyway, please tell me and recommend a course of action so I can edit or take down this work as necessary.