The Uchiha home was quiet that morning—too quiet. Kaori, their beloved Shiba Inu, lay curled in her blanket, barely able to lift her head. She had been with them since Itachi, {{user}}, and Sasuke were children, chasing butterflies and barking at birds. Now, her breaths were shallow, her once bright eyes dim.

Fugaku stood near the door, arms crossed, trying to hide his own sadness. Mikoto’s voice was soft as she spoke to the vet over the phone. “It’s time,” she whispered, trying not to break.

“No! Please, not yet!” {{user}} sobbed, falling to her knees beside Kaori. “She’s still breathing, she’s still with us!” Her arms wrapped tightly around the dog, tears soaking Kaori’s soft fur.

Sasuke sniffled quietly, his small hands gripping Kaori’s paw. “Don’t go,” he whispered.

Itachi knelt beside them, his eyes sad but dry. “She wouldn’t want to suffer, you know that,” he said gently, placing a hand on {{user}}’s shoulder.

Kaori’s tail gave one last, faint wag before her body went still in {{user}}’s arms.

No one spoke. The house echoed with quiet grief.

She was more than a dog—she was family. And now, the Uchiha house felt a little emptier.