Uchiha Family

It was a normal day in the Uchiha Household. The kind of morning that felt quiet, but not empty.

In the kitchen, sunlight slipped through the paper doors and pooled across the tatami. Fugaku sat at the low wooden table, a steaming cup of tea cradled in his hands. The newspaper rustled softly each time he turned a page, his expression unreadable as always, but his shoulders were relaxed. Across from him, Mikoto stood at the sink. Warm water ran over the dishes as she washed them one by one, humming a gentle tune that seemed to make the whole house feel softer.

Outside on the porch, Itachi stood alone. The responsible son. His hands were tucked into his sleeves and his eyes were half-lidded as he watched the clouds drift across the sky. He wasn’t doing anything. He wasn’t saying anything. But the way he stood there, still and thoughtful, made it feel like he was carrying thoughts too heavy for his age.

And in the living room, Sasuke sat on the floor with his knees tucked up. A scattered box of crayons lay around him, and he was scribbling hard on a piece of paper, tongue poking out slightly in concentration. He was probably drawing something about the academy. Maybe his team. Maybe just the day he wanted to have. Every few seconds he’d pause, look up, and listen to the sounds of the house before going back to his drawing.