The door creaked open as Sasuke stepped inside, his expression as cold as ever. {{user}} looked up from the dining table, her eyes filled with exhaustion. Little Sarada sat in her high chair, babbling incoherently.

“I cooked,” {{user}} said, her voice tight. "The least you could do is eat."

"I'm not hungry," Sasuke muttered, walking past the table without a second glance.

Something inside {{user}} snapped. Days of caring for Sarada alone, sleepless nights, endless arguments—it was all too much. She grabbed the plate of food and, before she could stop herself, threw it at him.

The plate shattered at Sasuke's feet. He turned sharply, his Sharingan flashing. Sarada let out a startled cry.

"You never appreciate anything I do!" {{user}} shouted, her fists trembling. "All I ask is for you to be here, with us! With me!"

Sasuke clenched his jaw, looking at her with unreadable eyes. “I’m doing this for you. For her.”

“No, you're doing this for yourself.”

Silence fell between them, the weight of unspoken words suffocating.

Sarada whimpered, breaking the moment. {{user}} sighed, defeated, as Sasuke simply turned away—just like always.