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“What’s autism?”
Inukashi turned to look at Shion, incredulous. “What, they didn’t teach you that in your fancy classrooms?”
“Apparently not,” he replied. He’d stopped washing Fluffball, one of the few dogs who actually liked baths, and she looked at him with pleading eyes. Shion didn’t seem to notice, too busy looking at em with that stupid head-cock he did when he was curious.
“Huh.” Eir fingers drummed on eir legs, a smirk playing on eir lips. “Guess sometimes even us slum rats know more than No. 6’s precious genius children.”
“I suspect you guys probably know a lot more than we do,” Shion said dryly. “No. 6 controls the information we citizens receive with an iron fist; the more ignorant we are, the easier we are to control.”
Inukashi nodded. “Knowledge is power, and all that.” If there was anything ey understood, it was that. “Maybe I shouldn’t explain it to you after all.”
“What?” He sounded so shocked at that, as if he hadn’t set himself up for it, but damnit, Shion’s puppy eyes were at least as effective as Fluffball’s. Inukashi clacked eir tongue.
“Fine, whatever. Autism is a thing that makes your brain work differently from other people, and it makes it more difficult for you to communicate with others, among other things.” Ey shrugged. “Basically, I have trouble reading people’s body language, or understanding what they mean. Dogs are way easier to read.”
“So it’s a mental disorder?”
“Yup,” ey said, popping the ‘p’.
Now Fluffball was full-on nudging Shion, but he somehow still managed to remain oblivious, hands clapped together and rocking slightly back and forth. “That explains why I didn’t learn about it, then; No. 6 wants us to believe all disorders and disabilities have been erased from the city, although that would obviously be completely impossible, but regardless, they avoid talking about them whenever possible. I imagine those with a history or neurology specialization might’ve learned about it, although I have no doubt the information would be extremely biased -”
“Aaand I don’t care,” Inukashi cut him off. “Get on with the washing, nerd. Fluffball is about to start crying.”
Shion startled, immediately returning to rubbing soap, to a happy tail wag of Fluffball. “Fluffy I’m so sorry! I tend to get caught up in these things...”
He sure did. If it was about biology, Shion could ramble on for hours uninterrupted, a glint in his eyes and swinging on his toes, like -
Oh. Kinda like ey did, back when ey were younger and less aware of the fact that such blatant displays of emotions could get you scammed or, if you were particularly unlucky, killed.
Huh.
Something to keep an eye on. Knowledge was power, after all.
The next time Shion brought it up was on cleaning day. Once a month, Inukashi did a deep clean of the main hall and the more expensive hotel rooms; of course, it wasn’t that people here cared much about cleanliness, but ey liked to make sure none of eir guests left with more infections than they came with, at least. And so, deep cleaning.
Inukashi had offered Shion a job helping em, because honestly, ey could use the help. The dogs were enthusiastic, but there was only so much they could do without opposable thumbs.
They were scrubbing the stairs when Shion asked: “Does the smell of cleaning supplies bother you?”
Inukashi blinked. “What’s it to you?”
Shion looked up at em, and oh no, those eyes were sparkling, he was about to go on a tangent. “I’ve been reading up on autism since you last mentioned it, and it’s quite fascinating, really! Most of the literature I’ve been able to find pertains to the more technical side of the disorder, talking about how exactly it affects the brain, but I’ve been able to get a hold of some personal accounts as well, and one of them mentioned having trouble with the smell of cleaning supplies. And I mean, I get that, I already have a lot of trouble with that and I’m not even autistic, so I was wondering what that was like for you.”
Good god, that boy really was a nerd, huh.
Well, regardless. This was a good opportunity to snoop.
Inukashi dropped eir rag back into the water. “I don’t have much of an issue with it, though honestly, that might just be because the soap here sucks balls.” After a short pause, ey offered. “But I do have a lot of issues with sounds. Everything here’s so goddamn loud all the time, it kills me.”
Shion’s leg began to bounce as he seemed to forget all about the cleaning he was supposed to do, and his fingers drummed against his leg. Hadn’t they done that last time, as well? “I suppose it’s really busy here, yeah, though honestly I like it better than the weird quiet in No. 6. And yeah, the soap here sucks. It doesn’t have much smell here, which is nice, because in No. 6...” he shuddered. “Well, sanitation used to be part of my job, and the smell got so strong that I needed to run outside more than once a day, just to escape from it. West Block’s much easier to deal with. Sure, it objectively smells worse, but it’s also less...” he paused. “Sharp? Less sharp is the only way I can describe it. It hurts less.”
Shion, the genius who said “I’m not autistic” and “the smell of bleach hurts so much I need to physically run away from it” in the same sentence. What an idiot.
“Well, if you have trouble with it again, try to focus on other sensations. Like, focus on how your shirt feels against your body. Or get a bunch of dogs to distract you and attack people who are making you feel bad. That works too.”
Wait. Why had ey said that? Shion hadn’t even asked for advice, and ey’d just given it to him, free of charge. What the hell.
Shion snorted. “I’ll try and see if I can train Nezumi’s rats to attack people, thanks.”
And before ey could stop emself, ey imagined one of the Cleaners getting taken out by a small rat, and ey laughed.
Shion was autistic. Like, really obviously autistic. Inukashi had no idea how the kid hadn’t picked up on it himself.
There were a thousand little clues strewn across him, from his drumming fingers and bouncing legs to the way he infodumped about anything at the slightest provocation, his savant-like intelligence and his simultaneous obliviousness to people, his staunch idealism and his gullible nature. Shion was autistic from top to toe and it didn’t even take a month of observation to figure it out.
Worse, though, was that Inukashi couldn’t seem to help emself from mentoring him.
Ey shared some of eir more subtle stims with him in the hopes that he would stop being such an open book (he didn’t, obviously, he was a hopeless case), ey tried to teach him some of eir cheats for interacting with people (Shion was very surprised to learn that ey never looked anyone in the eye, instead staring at their nose, but it turned out that he didn’t have much issue with that, so that was a bust), ey even tried to explain a bit more about autism of eir own volition (Shion hang to eir every word and then applied absolutely none of the information to himself). Ey didn’t know why ey bothered. There was just something about that kid that made em want to protect him.
Not that ey’d ever admit it, not even - alright, yeah, ey’d admit it under pain of death, but ey’d do just about anything under pain of death. Either way, ey finally felt like ey understood how Shion had managed to get under noted asshole Nezumi’s skin. Shion was just like that.
The turning point came on a sunny afternoon. It wasn’t anything special, they hadn’t even planned to meet; they’d simply run into each other at the market, and decided to walk home with each other.
Something was up with Shion.
He was shaking out his hands at his side and hadn’t stopped even after Inukashi had pointed it out (it attracted attention, and attention was never a good thing). His eyes flitted side to side, like a hunted rabbit, and if Inukashi didn’t know better, ey’d think he was being followed by someone. However, there was no reason for anyone to want revenge on Shion, so it must be something else. If there was no actual danger, why did he look so scared?
“Hey Shion, what’s wrong?”
Shion barely looked down, and when he opened his mouth, only a vague grunting nose came out. He tried again. “...Much...not,” was all he could say, and he clawed at his face, seemingly frustrated about something.
Oh. He was having a meltdown.
A few whistles and Inukashi’s dogs were on the move, carving out a path among the people to get em and Shion out of the crowd as fast as possible. Shion didn’t even seem to notice that something was off, but followed em, probably too dazed to do anything else. Within minutes, they were far away from the market, between abandoned houses where fewer people lived. It was quieter here, a little darker, a little cooler, and it was where Inukashi went whenever ey couldn’t keep it together anymore. Hopefully it’d help Shion too.
Not a moment too soon. Shion started clawing at his face with a ferver ey’d never seen before, and Inukashi quickly threw eir mantle over his head to prevent him from hurting himself. “Sit,” ey ordered. “Put your head between your knees.” Simple words, swift orders to provide structure. Things that had always helped em, although eir dogs didn’t talk; they just did. But dog hair was different from human skin, and Inukashi had never liked to be touched by humans when ey were like this, so ey didn’t touch Shion, and hoped he would just follow verbal orders.
He did, dropping against a wall and pressing his head between his knees, fisting Inukashi’s mantle so tight his knuckles paled, holding onto it like it was his only lifeline. He didn’t scream. That was kind of odd; Inukashi screamed a lot when ey were like this. Just a difference between them, ey supposed.
They sat there for a while, Shion rocking in a frantic, but eerily quiet manner, and Inukashi leaning to the wall next to him, keeping an eye out for any assholes who might take advantage of Shion’s weakened state.
Ey didn’t know how long it took Shion to calm down, but he did, eventually, sliding off eir mantle.
“...You,” he started, then shook his head, biting his hand in frustration.
“If you can’t talk, don’t,” Inukashi said. “And don’t hurt yourself. Bite on your sleeve if you need to.”
Shion switched to his sleeve, biting on it hard, and after a few seconds, nodded.
“I’m taking you home for now, we can talk about this tomorrow. Take a nap or something.”
Shion nodded again, too tired to protest.
It took them longer than it should to get to Nezumi and Shion’s little shelter, Shion sometimes stopping in the middle of the path just to stare in the distance. But, finally, they did make it, and thankfully, Nezumi was still home.
“What -” he started, but Inukashi pushed past him.
“Lie on the damn bed, idiot, and go take a nap,” ey ordered Shion, and he did so without questioning, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Nezumi asked, arms crossed.
“Your boyfriend had a meltdown,” Inukashi said shortly. “If you dare bully him about it I’ll sic my dogs on you, got that?”
“Dully noted,” Nezumi said dryly, still leaning against the wall as if he couldn’t care less about anything in the world, but his eyes betrayed him as they flickered over to Shion.
“You can make him something warm when he wakes up,” Inukashi answered his unasked question. “And keep a notebook nearby. He seemed to have trouble talking.”
“Whatever,” he replied, making a truly pathetic effort to disguise his worry. “Get out of my house, dog.”
“With pleasure, asshole.”
Shion would be fine. Nezumi was an absolute softy when it came to that boy, and by now, Inukashi could hardly even blame him without being a big fat hypocrite.
“So,” Shion started. It had been three days since his meltdown, and Inukashi had decided to let him come to em instead of badgering him emself. It had taken longer than expected for him to confront em. But now, here he was, looking like himself again. “I have a feeling I might be autistic.”
Inukashi looked at him, and promptly burst out into laughter.
“It’s not funny!” Shion protested. “I’m not joking!”
“It’s not -” Inukashi gasped. “Obviously you’re not joking. It’s just that it was blatantly obvious, and it’s hilarious it took you this long to figure it out.”
Shion blinked. “It was obvious?”
“Oh yeah, believe me, you might as well have ‘autism’ written across your forehead. And even that would’ve probably been more subtle.”
Shion squinted. “If you knew, why didn’t you tell me?”
Inukashi shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it. I’m kind of an asshole, remember?”
Shion looked at em for a solid ten seconds, before a grin slowly spread across his face.
“You know,” he said nonchalantly, “I just realized you’ve been helping me quite a bit. Giving me tips, helping me deal with that meltdown, stuff like that.”
“I have not!” Inukashi protested, but Shion ignored em.
“So what I think,” Shion continued, “is that you didn’t know how to tell me, so you just let me figure it out myself. While also helping me in the meantime.”
“You’re reading into things that aren’t there,” Inukashi muttered, tapping eir feet rapidly. Shion laughed.
“Sure,” he giggled. “You’re a heartless information broker who cares only for emself, got it.”
“And don’t you forget it,” ey confirmed. Then paused for a second. “Also, the gal who sells meat, the one with the red hair, knows sign language. Just in case that’s something you’d wanna know.”
Shion nodded. “Of course, this has nothing to do with the fact that I have trouble communicating verbally at times.”
“Absolutely not,” Inukashi confirmed. “It’s just something I thought was interesting.”
“Well, thank you anyway,” Shion said, smile softened from a smirk to something friendlier, something you rarely saw here in the West Block.
That boy would be the death of em, one day. Still, it was kind of nice to have another autistic here.
Maybe Shion was onto something with that whole ‘helping people’ thing.