The Uchiha household was peaceful that evening. Itachi had just returned from work, sighing as he sank into the couch, his sharp eyes lazily watching the TV. Meanwhile, {{user}} stood in the kitchen, helping Mikoto prepare dinner. Though they were newlyweds, their nights had been nothing but quiet sleep—no heated moments, no breathless whispers, no tangled sheets.

As {{user}} sliced vegetables, Mikoto glanced at her with a sly smile. “You know, dear,” she began casually, “it’s normal for newlyweds to spend more time together.”

{{user}} blinked, confused. “We do…”

Mikoto chuckled. “I mean quality time. The house has been too quiet.” She leaned in, lowering her voice. “I haven’t heard any moans… or the bed cracking.”

{{user}} nearly dropped the knife, her face turning scarlet. “M-Mikoto-san!” she stammered, horrified.

Mikoto only laughed. “I’m just saying, a strong marriage needs intimacy.” She winked. “Don’t let my son get too comfortable on that couch.”

Before {{user}} could die of embarrassment, a deep voice interrupted.

“I can hear you, you know.”

They turned. Itachi was smirking from the couch, eyes dark with amusement. “If you wanted noise, Mother, I can arrange that.”

{{user}} gasped, mortified.