Throw Down Your Shield.

Notes: A drabble written about something I hope to see happen in the manga one day. Time taken :45 minutes not edited.

Akihito thought he was over it.

He was sure it didn't bother him, it was something he never used to think about, put away in the back of his mind like any other memory.

Then he got to thinking. Why did he always fight it? What made his fight or flight instincts kick in every single time and send all his wants and needs haywire? Because it wasn't that he didn't want it, this thing they had that bordered on normal with an underlying taint of unhealthy and addictive, it was just that he couldn't accept it wanting it.

And the thing was; when you told yourself not to think about something, you couldn't help but think about it.

Maybe, he wasn't as over it as he first thought.

Walls of denial and self-preservation came up on their own accord after that, it's where he banished all those useless thoughts that he was still telling himself not to dwell on. He could feel them encroaching higher and higher, and there wasn't anything he could do about it.

He began to recoil at Asami's touch and couldn't even say why, because things were different now. The only reason he had was the giant alarm bell in his head that screeched at any form of intimacy – it sent his body into panic mode, stiffening his muscles and ceasing all logical thought processes telling him that it was okay.

His reactions surprised even himself, being hugged from behind was like being ambushed, he flipped out in terror, thrashing in the cage of Asami's arms as he tried to escape nothing but the condemning slimed walls in his head.

The crime lord had to calm him down with whispers and soothing strokes of his hair even as Akihito begged to be let go. Thinking about that made his skin crawl. Things were different he kept telling himself – and the walls only loomed higher.

After that though, Asami didn't try it again, in fact, he went to work more often, and it became close to two people merely existing in the same space with an invisible divide between them.

That was fine, Akihito kept telling himself he could live that way, that it was okay to just see Asami and speak to him every now and then, he'd convinced himself that it was all he needed, just that and his walls to get by.

Until that one night on the couch where coincidentally they both had time off, where any whiff of closeness or affection had him making excuses, getting another drink, going to the toilet, until eventually he ran out of reasons to run and he was left staring at the TV, but not watching it as Asami observed him.

But the picture was turned off, and he couldn't even say what he was watching anyway, but now he had to where to turn except Asami, and he still couldn't.

"Akihito." And it was too soft, too gentle, tired. "Look at me."

He managed it, barely, it wasn't so bad if he let his eyes flit away every now and then, down to Asami's chest, his watch, over to his phone to check for a message even though he knew he didn't have one.

"In the eye, Akihito, look me in the eye." It was a prompting whisper, caressing the barriers in his head that had his walls quaking.

But even now he tried to convince himself there was no issue; it still took every muscle he had to make proper eye contact however.

What he found was a haunted expression, pursed brows and agony filled eyes and Akihito didn't see this as fair because he should be the one looking like that, they were his fortifications to climb, his things to get over, it had nothing to do with him, but at the same time it had everything to do with him.

"I've never told you, have I?" it was a loaded question, and he honestly didn't know the answer, he didn't need it.

"Told me what?"

Asami took a breath, and released it with his own struggled exhalation, "I'm sorry, Akihito."

Then, his walls started crumbling, the sedimentary thoughts loosening as he desperately tried to hold himself together.

This was the thing he didn't want to need, those three words that tore down his shield to expose this soft center he'd been so desperately trying to harden.

All his exiled thoughts came pouring out and with no way to keep them in; the first tears fell. Defenseless with no walls, he was pulled into a protective embrace as Asami kept whispering, over and over.

"I'm sorry, Akihito."

How long it went on for he couldn't say, it went until he was empty, until his eyes were dry, until he realized the walls in his head were gone, that he didn't need them, and that he only needed the safeguard of Asami's arms instead.