---
[Time: 5:01 AM – Uchiha Compound, Kagami's Room]
He awoke without an alarm.
No jarring sounds. No dreams. No warmth on the blanket where his brother used to sleep.
Just… silence.
Kagami's eyes opened slowly, pupils adjusting to the faint, blue pre-dawn glow filtering in through the paper-shielded windows. The shadows were longer without Obito's clutter. No open scrolls. No shinobi gloves left tossed on the floor. No faint snoring from across the room.
The emptiness pressed in like humidity.
He sat up slowly, spine straight, arms folded on his knees.
> "Day one without him," he murmured aloud, voice faint and toneless.
He let the silence settle.
Then rose, dressed, and moved.
---
[Time: 5:13 AM – Yuki's Room]
Yuki was already awake.
"Kagami?" she called softly.
He slid the door open without a sound.
"I heard you stir," he said. "Your breathing changed at 5:08."
Yuki smiled faintly. Her pale hand patted the blanket.
He stepped forward and sat beside her, gently touching her wrist, checking her pulse. Weak. Stable. Slight congestion in the lungs—standard for a pre-summer shift in pressure.
He didn't smile.
But she did.
"You always sound like a doctor from a century ago," she whispered.
"I take that as praise," he replied.
"Obito left last night, didn't he?"
Kagami's eyes flicked to the side. "Yes."
"…Are you lonely?"
A pause. Too long.
"I'm functional."
"You're my sweet little genius. But you're also still human."
He turned toward her. "Would you like me to warm the Hikari Filter?"
"I trust you."
Those three words did more for him than any mission praise ever could.
---
[Time: 5:45 AM – Hidden Basement Lab, Under House]
The lab wasn't registered with the Uchiha Elders. Only Obito and Yuki knew.
The Hikari Filter rested on the workbench, humming faintly. Three new seals, copied from Tobirama's chakra-loop diagrams, lined the core casing. Kagami adjusted the intake vents by 3 microns. Ran chakra through the purifier. He captured the filtered vapor into a pressurized medicinal ampoule.
> Test subject: Uchiha Yuki.
Dose: 0.3cc diluted.
Method: Inhalation.
He labeled it. Secured it in an insulated glass vial. And brought it upstairs.
---
[Time: 6:02 AM – Yuki's Room]
He wrapped the breathing mask gently around her face. It took him thirteen seconds to ensure the seal was flush and the straps weren't too tight. Her eyes watched him the entire time, gentle and proud.
"I'm not afraid," she said.
"You shouldn't be," he replied.
He adjusted the valve.
Hiss.
The soft, colorless mist flowed into her lungs.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Yuki's eyes fluttered.
"…Feels like… summer wind," she whispered.
Kagami noted her breath rate, temperature, and pulse every five minutes for an hour.
No rejection. No inflammation.
It was working.
---
[Time: 7:10 AM – Kitchen]
He set the rice cooker to low heat. Pickled radish and dried anchovy soup were already simmering. He chewed slowly, methodically. Not for taste. For fuel.
The radio crackled in the background with the morning village bulletin.
> "…still no update on the team dispatched to the Land of Grass. Missing for three days. Konoha requests cooperation from allied nations for recovery efforts…"
Kagami paused mid-chew.
He wrote the coordinates down on a napkin.
Then finished his meal.
---
[Time: 8:00 AM – Konoha Civilian Clinic]
Kagami arrived exactly on time.
White robe. Sanitized gloves. Uchiha crest hidden under the collar.
"Doctor said you were coming again," the nurse said without eye contact.
"I'm not a doctor," he replied.
"Sure. But you fix what half the trained staff overlook."
He ignored the compliment.
He was here for her.
Yamamoto Chika.
Seven years old. Civilian. Chakra-reactive poisoning after a failed academy spar.
Burns along her meridian lines. Body rejecting refined chakra medication.
Kagami stepped into the exam room quietly. The girl's parents stiffened when they saw the Uchiha crest on his wristband.
He ignored them, too.
"Chika," he said softly.
The girl blinked at him.
"I brought something that might help."
She didn't flinch.
She just nodded.
That was all he needed.
---
[Time: 8:23 AM – Treatment Room 2B]
He unpacked a sterile version of the Hikari ampoule.
Different variant. Tuned for civilian meridian thresholds. Ultra-low dose.
"I've calculated safe exposure levels for someone your size," he told her. "You may feel a cooling sensation. Tell me if it hurts."
She nodded bravely.
The parents looked ready to protest.
He silenced them with a glance.
Not arrogance.
Not anger.
Just unwavering certainty.
He applied the mask.
Let her inhale for six seconds.
Her breathing changed.
Not labored.
Smoothened.
Kagami watched her fingers unclench from the bedsheet.
Then looked at the chakra monitoring chart.
Stable.
Better than any result he'd seen with traditional chakra-suppressants.
> "Confirmed: Hikari Filter Application #2 successful. Cross-type efficacy: viable. Human-grade use… possible."
---
[Time: 9:00 AM – Exiting Clinic]
The sun had risen fully now.
Warm light pooled across the rooftops of Konoha, casting shadows in narrow alleyways.
Kagami narrowed his eyes.
Something about today felt off.
There were two more Anbu posted above the rooftops.
Three elders walking toward the Hokage Tower at once.
And a messenger hawk flying due east with a crimson tag.
> "War isn't declared with words," he murmured to himself. "It declares itself in patterns."
He gripped his notes tighter.