Someone was thundering on their front door. Shisui made a pained noise from where he had sprawled out on the couch, pillow held over his head. "Kyo-chan," he moaned. "Fix it. Please."

She looked up from her review of his hospital records. She was perched lotus on the coffee table, his half-finished tea and her medical kit sitting at her side. "Expecting someone?"

He muttered something indecipherable into the couch cushion, but she was able to see the slight shake of his head. With a huff of laughter, she got to her feet and set the file aside. The loud knocking continued. "Coming!" she called. She pulled the door open and raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you, Mitarashi?"

"Red-eye," Anko whined, throwing her weight across the threshold and into Kyoko. "You will not believe what happened."

Kyoko hummed, already preparing for several hours of rambling about another one of Genma and Anko's secret dates. From what she remembered being mentioned last week, this one was at Genma's house, and Anko had been trying to polish up her cooking skills. However . . . .

"Shisui's here," she warned casually, patting Anko on the head. "I have to keep an eye on him."

Anko groaned, face pressed into Kyoko's shoulder. Then she pushed herself back on her own two feet and fixed Kyoko with a glare. "Fine."

"I'll make tea in the morning," Kyoko extended by way of invitation.

Anko waved a hand at her and stepped out, slamming the door. Kyoko sighed, taking that as, most likely, agreement that she would be there. She shut the door properly and returned to her spot at Shisui's side.

"What's going on with her?" he mumbled, turning his head just slightly to squint at her. He winced. At the movement or the light, she wasn't sure.

"You know how Anko is." She crouched down beside the couch near his head. "Hey, when were you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?" he asked, yawning. He'd shut his eyes tight again.

"Shisui," she said, biting her lip. "C'mon. Don't do this. When were you going to tell me about your eyes?"

He looked at her again, a frown forming between his brows. "What are you talking about?"

"Shisui, please," she begged. "You can't do this to me. We've talked about this. It's just us left. Remember?"

He sighed, wincing as the breath—heavier than normal—pulled at ribs she knew were broken. "I remember," he conceded tiredly.

"Right." She turned and picked up the papers. She was only able to distract herself by looking them over for so long. "Were you ever going to tell me?" she asked softly.

"Probably not." His voice was also soft, but that was more from exhaustion than fear. "You worry too much."

"You should have seen that kunai," she pointed out.

"You weren't there. You don't know that."

"It's a kunai. I don't care if it was coming from the side or that it was dark. You're an Uchiha. You should have seen it."

"Well, I didn't," he muttered.

Kyoko tapped a finger against the stack of papers. She took a quiet breath and activated her sharingan. Shisui's chakra reserves were still low, but more important than that, the hyper-focused vision let her see the way his eyes stuttered in following the tapping. She dropped her hand from the papers and then reached it out to his hand at his side. It took him the briefest moment to track. Once he had, he shifted his entire body so he could turn his hand to meet hers. She deactivated her sharingan and tightened her grip.

"You'll need to rest for a few day," she said quietly, drawing up iryo chakra and pressing her hand to his head to soothe the ache she was sure was there. His pinched expression unwound a bit. "No training," she emphasized. "No work. Just relaxing."

He grinned, though it was tired and slow. "I can manage that."

She just hummed in response.

Shisui's grin faltered. He sighed and then shifted, pushing himself up and causing both of her hands to fall away. He sat up, wincing and rubbing his forehead. He took a long breath. "It's my mangekyo."

She frowned and straightened. "I don't know much about the mangekyo," she ventured slowly.

"I know." He squinted at her and then rolled his eyes. "Come up here, Kyo." He patted the cushion next to him.

She pulled herself up beside him and settled against his side as he draped an arm around her shoulders. She took up his other hand. "You don't talk about your mangekyo," she accused.

"I know," he said again. He shrugged, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "I asked Fugaku-sama a few months ago. He said every use of mangekyo sharingan makes vision worse."

She pressed her lips together and leaned slightly forward to get a better look at his eyes. They still looked clear. "How bad is it?"

"Not terrible," he defended. "Not yet. Turning my sharingan on makes things sharp just fine."

"That's why you're running out of chakra so much faster."

"Not that much faster. It's— Yes, alright, a little," he conceded, shoving his shoulder into hers. "And I'm sorry. It won't happen again. I'll be more careful."

"About avoiding kunai or telling me the truth?"

He huffed, glancing sideways at her before shrugging and leaning back against the cushions with a wide yawn. "Sure." When he got an elbow to the side for that, he suck in a breath and squinted at her again. "Alright, alright! Both! Happy?"

"No," she mumbled, hunkering back down against his side.

His arm around her tightened. "Sorry."

"Uh-huh."

"I am."

She swallowed and leaned her head against his shoulder. "How long do you have?" she whispered. "Until your vision is gone?"

"Depends."

She bit her lip, considering how to best say her words carefully. Then she gave up. "You need to stop using your mangekyo."

His arm around her stilled. Then it pulled her closer. "I don't use it recklessly. I'm careful."

"Not enough."

"That's rich coming from you. I heard from Itachi that you and Tenzo accidentally blew up a training ground the other day."

"Sounds like he needs to stop being a little snitch." She could tell it was an obvious redirection and that he clearly didn't want to keep talking about his mangekyo. She was too tired to insist they kept talking about it. "And the key word there is 'accidentally.'"

"Right. You know, I've never accidentally blown up a training ground."

His hand moved from her shoulder to settle in her hair, and Kyoko looked up to find that his eyes had closed again. She smiled and laid her head back down. "True. You win this one."