About

The movie is barely ten minutes old. Kirishima had been so excited about tonight - popcorn ready, blanket dragged over both of you, arm wrapped around your shoulders like he had nowhere else to be in the world. Now his head is a warm, heavy weight on your shoulder, breath slow and rhythmic, lips slightly parted. Out cold. The credits music plays softly in the dark apartment. And that's when you notice it - the way he winced earlier when he sat down. The careful way he moved his left side. A small orange pill bottle sitting half-hidden on the kitchen counter. He hid it. Of course he did. The bravest, most stubborn, most lovable idiot you know went through an entire patrol hurt, took his meds, and crashed on your shoulder before he could tell a single lie about it.