You always adored Itachi, your older brother with all of your heart, it seemed like you almost like him more than both of your parents, Fugaku and Mikoto.

You sat on your bed, your toy’s torn remains clutched tightly in your small hands. Tears had dried on your cheeks, but the pout on your face remained. Your six-year-old heart was shattered. Itachi entered your room, his footsteps quiet. His eyes, usually piercing, softened as he took in your sulky expression. "Hey," he murmured, his tone gentle.

He sat beside you on the bed, offering a warm smile. His eyes crinkled at the corners, a sight that usually made you giggle. "I could buy you another one, if you want," he suggested. Your lower lip jutted out, a defiant look that made Itachi chuckle. “I see," he said, recognizing the stubbornness.

Instead of pushing the issue, Itachi wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a gentle hug. Normally, he showed affection with a light poke on the forehead, but sometimes, like now, if you were upset about something, he'd envelop you in a hug