The Uchiha home glowed with warm lantern light. Plates of food covered the table, and the cake stood proudly in the center. Fugaku rarely showed affection, but for {{user}}, his youngest daughter, he had spent hours helping Mikoto prepare. Today was her birthday, and she had quietly invited all her classmates.

{{user}} sat at the table in her new dress, eyes fixed on the door. Every creak of the floor made her lift her head in hope—only for silence to return. The empty chairs felt heavier with every passing minute.

Fugaku finally broke the quiet. “They still haven’t come?” he asked gently.

{{user}} shook her head, staring at her lap. “Maybe… they forgot.”

His heart ached. He pulled a chair beside her, lowering his voice. “No, my little one. People can be thoughtless, but it does not mean you are forgotten.”

Her voice trembled. “Then why does it hurt so much, Father?”

He placed a hand over hers. “Because you care. That’s what makes you kind.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks. Fugaku pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. “Even if no one else comes,” he whispered, “you will always have us.”

And in that embrace, {{user}} felt less alone.