Neji had left one whirlwind of solstice preparation and stepped into a hurricane.
The Uchiha house was full of servants and family members rushing about, putting up decorations, preparing food, cleaning the house from top to bottom—it almost dwarfed the Hyuugas in their flurry to get things done, but it fell a little short. The Hyuugas, being the most established, had to overdo everything. Neji was usually called on for something, but he'd escaped to the Uchiha compound to visit Itachi, and found himself in the kitchen, watching the older man cook. It was then that Neji realized something.
Itachi couldn't cook.
"It'll be better if you use this spice, rather than the one the recipe says," he shot in helpfully, holding a small jar out. Scowling, Itachi took it and then didn't know how much to put in—and Neji ended up cooking the rest of it. While they were letting it simmer, they had a snack at the table. Mikoto came in, looked at them, checked the things on the stove, and looked back at them.
"Neji did this, didn't he?" she asked sharply. Wondering if he did something wrong, Neji nodded. Mikoto grinned suddenly.
"It'll be edible then," she said impishly, and went back out.
Neji felt a little guilty after he helped with the rest of the dishes. On their way back home, he tried to say something but Itachi waved it off.
"It's nothing. I don't want to poison my entire extended family." There was an awkward silence; Neji remembered the look in Itachi's eyes. I wish sometimes that I could kill them all.
"You think too much, Neji." Itachi's lips brushed over his own. "People say things in passing that they don't mean."
"I know."
"Then stop worrying. If I planned to kill my family, do you think I would announce it to a jounin?"
Neji shook his head, reassured. "No, you wouldn't. Good night, Itachi."
"Sleep well, Neji. Come over tomorrow."
"I will. Good night."