AN: Somehow I managed to write a oneshot that both dives into my autistic + ADD headcanons for Heiji and also managed to be really shippy at the same time? *long shrug* Anyways here is oneshot purely fueled by headcanons from your local autistic + ADD woman. There's very little doubt to me that Heiji is absolutely somewhere on the autism spectrum, so I guess you could say this one's a bit personal to me!

Distraction

Character: Heiji Hattori

Summary: For Heiji, there was no shortage of distractions in the world.

The world was filled with distractions.

That was the way it had always been for him, for as long as he had remembered. At first, it hadn't mattered that much. While his parents had both noticed that he seemed to be struggling behind Kazuha when it came to developing the ability to pick up on social cues of those of his own age, it hadn't been much of a problem at first. It wasn't until he entered kindergarten, really, that the matter slowly started to become an issue.

It was probably around third grade when he learned his brain worked differently than everyone else's. He was a little too young to fully understand what that had meant at the time- but he hadn't missed the sharp tone that his mother's voice had carried to it the one time a teacher had gone a little too far, insisting that his lack of focus had everything to do with lack of discipline and poor upbringing. Heiji couldn't recall the words that his mother had directed towards the woman, only that they were filled with venom, even as her voice never so much as even raised an octave.

The world was filled with distractions, and most of the time, it didn't bother him. It wasn't all bad, really. How else would he notice the way that Kazuha's ponytail seemed to dance when she laughed, or how she would hum along at the sound of one of her favorite songs playing in a commercial while busying herself in the kitchen? It took him the longest time, longer than most, to understand that reason why his gaze so often trailed towards her, even when he knew it shouldn't- even when he had other things to focus on.

But the world was filled with distractions, and sadly, not all of them were Kazuha. The sound of chattering outside in the hall, as two teachers on break discussed their weekend plans, drawing him in, realizing too late that an hour had passed, and he'd only managed to write his name on his test. The sound of a crying baby being all that filled his head, causing him to write down mistaken directions, ending up with him being hopelessly lost, having to sheepishly call Kudo again to get his bearings once more. The insistent tapping of a foot gnawing at his temper, as the sound soon became the sole thing he could focus on.

The shrill voice of a woman on her cellphone outside, pulling Heiji's focus away from what he was being told, causing him to miss an all important clue in the suspect's words that would have saved the life of her second victim. Heiji had blamed himself for weeks afterwards, for a rare moment, hating his stupid, different brain. Maybe he really had no place trying to be a detective at all, however much mysteries caught his interest in a way that nothing else quite did- not kendo, not baseball, not even motorcycles. Those three things were quite important to him, but none of them could even hold a candle to the compelling force that was a good mystery.

He had overheard Kazuha calling his cap a 'switch' once before. She wasn't wrong, really. It had been his mother who had came up with it as something of a coping mechanism, much as he wouldn't say that out loud. Over time, it became a habit, something that he did without thinking too much about it. For once, the world, filled with distractions as it was, narrowed down, leaving only what was right in front of him.

He'd never brought it up to Kudo before. It wasn't that he was embarrassed, and it wasn't that he thought his friend would think any less of him for it- at least, that was what he thought on the surface. Deep down, he was anxious- anxious because he wasn't a genius like his rival was, anxious because Kudo Shinichi did not, in fact, understand what it meant to live in a world full of distractions.

And because it would have been really nice if Kudo had said something when he noticed that what Heiji felt for his childhood friend was romantic love. Because Heiji? Heiji didn't notice it one bit himself, not until that moment on Ebisu Bridge, when the feelings had hit him with the force of a sledgehammer, finally breaking a hole through the dense wall that was his own feelings. He had always known he was oblivious towards the feelings of others, had long since come to understand this- but he hadn't been aware until then just how oblivious he could be in regards to his own feelings.

He almost wanted to be mad at Kudo for recording his 'confession', furious, really. But Kudo didn't know, and Kudo didn't understand, so somehow or another, Heiji had bit back his temper, swallowing it down. Kudo was his best friend, and he didn't want to break their friendship over something like this, not after everything that they had been through. He wasn't doing it on purpose.

And hell, he was pretty sure he was probably doing things that annoyed and ate away at th shrunken detective, all without realizing it. Although he knew this on some fundamental level, he couldn't begin to puzzle out what these things might be on his own. Kudo wouldn't tell him, after all, instead internalizing whatever it was that bothered him, not giving Heiji cues that he could pick up on.

Interacting with people was not like solving a mystery, much as he'd tried that approach before. Sure, they gave out clues- but Heiji had no way of reading them, no way of interpreting what that particular look or that particular gesture meant. He'd carelessly trampled over people's feelings before just like that- Conan had given him an earful after the Tottori spider mansion case, telling him that he didn't need to tell the culprit those things. Heiji had blinked, a befuddled look crossing his face, not understanding what he was saying- he'd only told him the truth, after all. Why had he gotten so mad?

The world was filled with distraction, but some things were easier than others to focus on. He could give it his all when it came to kendo, focusing only on the match right in front of him- at least, when he stepped onto the dojo floor, he could. Baseball games earned his full attention, especially when he got the chance to watch them live. Both of those things had been superseded by the presence of a mystery, however, like a powerful, unstoppable force, that drew most of his thoughts towards it.

Just not enough.

Sometimes it was fine. Sometimes the distraction was Kazuha, even if what was pulling his focus away was the way that she was standing a little too close to that sleaze. Sometimes it was just the faint sound of her laughter that caught his ears, drawing his eyes towards her- until someone cleared their throat, drawing him back into focus.

Sometimes it wasn't. Sometimes it was in front of his father, the man's stern gaze fixed on him when Heiji suddenly recalled where he was, remembering that the dog passing by the window below was not nearly as important as the double homicide that he'd stumbled upon. On some fundamental level, he knew his father didn't think any less of him, and knew that he had no small degree of pride in him.

His stern-faced, stoic father, who barely displayed his emotions on his face, who gave Heiji zero cues to go off on, who left him desperately floundering and second guessing what that sentence might have meant, if that turn of phrase really meant what he thought it did. On occasion, he sent messages that even broke through Heiji's steel wall- like that punch, and those harsh words he'd given him back then. And just like his father had wanted, he'd gotten angry, gotten riled up.

Maybe Heiji was so emotional, always wearing his heart on his sleeve, because he simply didn't understand how to cover things like that up. If he was angry, it was time to get angry, regardless of the time and place. It had earned him a reputation as being hotblooded and quick tempered, but he didn't mind that much. There were people who had spoken in defense of him in spite of that, in spite of his admittedly often impulsive actions- and Kudo had been one of them.

He doubted Hakuba Saguru would ever understand what it was like to live in a world full of distractions. They didn't have to be big- the way the light caught his watch, causing a bright shadow to dance on the ground beneath him was more than enough to occupy his thoughts sometimes. The ticking sound of a clock in an otherwise silent room, counting down seconds until the class ended drowned out the sound of the teacher's voice, their lesson going unlearned today. At least this was English class, a subject which he'd mastered in his own time.

"Hattori-kun."

Judging from the sound of his teacher's voice, this definitely wasn't the first time that he had called on him. Breaking out of his own distracted thoughts, Heiji glanced up towards the teacher, noticing that the entire class had their eyes on him now- and Kazuha was giving him a sympathetic look. "Y-yes?"

"Glad to see you've rejoined us. Translate the next sentence please."

"...is there any chance ya could give me a hint which one ya mean?" Heiji asked, a sheepish grin crossing his face, even as his teacher sighed in exasperation. When he translated the given sentence flawlessly, he couldn't help but keep the smug expression off of his face, even as his teacher shook his head, resuming his class as if nothing had ever happened.

Heiji's focus remained tight for the next four or so minutes of class- before he caught the sight of Kazuha contemplatively tapping her pen on the surface of her desk, mulling over something with a great focus of her own. And that was when his own was more or less thrown completely out the window once more.

The world was filled with distractions- and Kazuha, undoubtedly, was the most pleasant one.