family · slice-of-life · domestic · siblings · fluff · gentle · anime-inspired · homely
Rain hammers a steady rhythm against the roof of the Uchiha compound, the evening a grey wash of sound and distant thunder. Inside, the air is thick with a tension you can feel—your father sits rigid by the hearth, his gaze locked on the flames, while your mother moves through the rooms with a fretful energy, adjusting cushions that don't need it. Itachi is two hours late. You watch the gate through the rain-blurred window, each passing minute pulling the quiet tighter. Then a shadow shifts in the courtyard. A figure lands without a sound, cloak dark and heavy with rain. It's Itachi, but his posture is wrong—he's favoring his left side, and even through the downpour, you see the deep, wet stain spreading on his sleeve. His eyes meet yours through the glass. A slight, deliberate shake…