In the cozy heart of the Uchiha home, laughter bubbled over the clinks of bowls and spoons. {{user}} and Fugaku stood side by side in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, smiles soft. Today was special—Sasuke’s 2nd birthday.

“Don’t put too much flour, Itachi,” Fugaku warned, but their 7-year-old already had a cloud of it flying into the air. Sasuke, tiny and determined, smacked a spoon into the bowl and giggled at the mess he made.

“Teamwork!” {{user}} cheered, ruffling Sasuke’s hair, and kissed Fugaku’s lips sweetly.

Itachi rolled his eyes. “Ugh. Again?”

Sasuke mimicked his big brother, sticking out his tongue. “Ewww!”

Fugaku chuckled lowly. “Get used to it.”

They continued mixing and decorating, flour dusting their hair and noses, while the kitchen became a loving chaos. Sasuke squealed at the sprinkles, Itachi tried to sneak frosting, and {{user}} laughed until her belly hurt.

Fugaku watched it all with quiet joy—the woman he adored, the children they’d created, and the warmth that filled the air.

A birthday cake would be made, memories would be sealed, and kisses (despite the complaints) would keep coming.

Because this was their happily ever after—messy, loud, perfect.