The house trembled.

Itachi froze mid-sentence as the floor beneath them began to rumble violently. Cups crashed in the kitchen, a picture frame fell from the wall, and Mikoto let out a small cry.

“Earthquake,” Fugaku muttered, eyes wide.

But Itachi had already turned, bolting from the living room without a word.

Upstairs. She’s upstairs.

His heart pounded louder than the thunderous quake outside. Walls swayed, dust fell from the ceiling, and the stairs groaned under his weight as he took them two at a time. “{{user}}!” he shouted.

He kicked the bedroom door open to find her curled up, trying to shield her belly as the bookshelf behind her wobbled dangerously.

Without thinking, Itachi rushed forward and pulled her into his arms just as the bookshelf crashed down—missing them by inches.

He held her close, trembling himself now, whispering, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

“I-Itachi… the baby…” she breathed, tears forming in her eyes.

“You’re safe. Both of you.”

The house could collapse, the world could break—but nothing would ever stop him from reaching her.