Shisui is done. Gone. That’s it for him, he’s toast. (Or, Shisui is in love. Naruto is mostly oblivious. Everyone else is entirely convinced that Shisui is a creeper.)

“Mom! Dad! Father! Someone’s at the door!” “Oh gods,” Sakura mutters, head halfway buried under the pillow. “How did she get your lungs, Naruto?” There's a sound of tired agreement from her left, though Sasuke doesn’t even attempt to pick his face up out of the mattress. “You're the medic-nin,” Naruto says, amused, and pushes up on one elbow to squint blearily at the bedroom door. “Want to draw straws?” “You're already up,” Sasuke probably says, though even Naruto's ears have a hard time catching it. “And before eight they're your kids.”