Though its refined atmosphere might not have suggested it, Aizen's study was equipped with electric lighting.
There were nights when one could glimpse him through the paper windows—alone at his desk, writing under the lamplight, as if the entire village had fallen away around him.
It was a strangely tranquil sight.
And truth be told, Aizen's calligraphy was among the finest in all of Konoha.
Even foreign daimyō occasionally sent requests to purchase his original works.
His brushstrokes always carried a certain ineffable resonance—a rhythm that felt inviting, yet somehow commanding.
Even Hatake Kakashi, who nursed a quiet wariness toward the man, couldn't deny the beauty in those flowing characters.
But tonight, the man seated in the brightly lit study was not Aizen.
...
From appearance alone, he looked to be in his twenties.
A Konoha forehead protector glimmered beneath his messy black hair.
He wore a white haori, kneeling silently on the floor with a hollow, grief-stricken expression.
But unlike Aizen's plain white cloak, this one bore two distinct markings:
the Uchiha clan fan on the back—and beneath it, a large, inked numeral "六" (Six).
In Konoha, few would dare to display the Uchiha crest so boldly.
The clan's red-eyed members were not to be trifled with—police force officers, proud and powerful, their tempers and pride alike legendary.
So for Kakashi, seeing an Uchiha with such a desolate, defeated look was a rarity.
He found himself glancing twice.
That was when he noticed something stranger still—
the man had no shadow beneath his knees in the lamplight.
Forget it, Kakashi thought. That guy's business isn't mine. He's an advisor now—strange contacts are probably normal.
It's none of my concern.
A six-year-old had no place in adult affairs.
With practiced ease, Kakashi turned to head back to his room.
But before he could leave, the kneeling Uchiha's body suddenly trembled.
He turned his gaze sharply toward the doorway—as though sensing Kakashi's presence.
And in that same instant, Kakashi heard a familiar, calm voice behind him.
"Ah… Kagami-kun."
The voice was smooth, magnetic, and unfailingly gentle.
A figure appeared as if he had always been there—Aizen Sōsuke, seated at his writing desk, adjusting his glasses, his brush gliding across the paper.
"You came at quite an unexpected hour," Aizen said softly, not even glancing back.
"Has your original place grown too dark for your liking?"
"…I want to fight for the village."
The man—Uchiha Kagami—glanced briefly toward Kakashi's direction before lowering his gaze again. His voice was rough but resolute.
"Konoha is approaching a critical moment. We've discussed it, and… we can't just sit idle. The Third Great Shinobi War will break out soon. We have to try to stop it."
"In my recollection," Aizen replied, dipping his brush into ink, "I've never forbidden any of you from acting."
"You know as well as I do, Aizen. We're running out of time. And that's bad news for you too, isn't it?"
"On the contrary," Aizen said, still writing, "I'm already satisfied with what we've achieved. You've all learned to sustain yourselves independently. The rest will follow naturally."
On the paper before him, Aizen wrote a single bold character: "War."
"Besides," he continued, voice low and composed, "this conflict is merely the continuation of the last—a struggle born of greed for survival and space. Tell me, on what grounds would you try to stop something so inherent to this world?"
"Even so," Kagami said quietly, "we have to try.
To make this world peaceful.
To show them this bloodshed was nothing more than a mistake."
"Then," Aizen replied, finally setting his brush aside, "you and Dan—acting captains of the Second and Sixth Divisions, respectively—should be more than capable."
"Not enough to protect Konoha."
"To protect Konoha? Just because you wish to?"
Aizen sighed softly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, still not turning to face the kneeling Uchiha.
"Konoha doesn't need the protection of one man—it needs the strength of everyone.
If victory can only be achieved through individual sacrifice rather than collective unity, then what meaning does this village truly hold?"
"The First Hokage didn't seek to build a perfect world upon the blood of one hero's sacrifice. He sought to give all who suffered in war a place to call home. Konoha was built to be that home—preserved by everyone's will, not by a single martyr."
"Kagami-kun," Aizen said gently, his tone filled with conviction, "Konoha is not a tool for your self-redemption, nor a stage for your emotions. Do you not trust in the Third Hokage's judgment?"
His voice was calm, persuasive, filled with the very essence of the Will of Fire.
Even outside the door, Kakashi couldn't help nodding to himself—Aizen's words sounded irrefutable.
If the Will of Fire wasn't meant to unite everyone equally, what difference was there between Konoha and the chaos of the Warring States?
But before Kakashi could dwell on it further, Kagami shook his head.
"No… I don't trust him."
The simple, resolute reply stunned even Aizen into silence.
Kneeling in the flickering lamplight, Uchiha Kagami spoke in a voice that carried no hatred, only weary clarity.
"You're right, Aizen. Everything you said makes sense. But I've made my choice. I'll go to the front lines. The Mimic Shikai is nearly complete—you'll need its data anyway."
Aizen's tone remained mild.
"I've never once restrained your actions. I've only advised against them. If you insist on going, I won't stop you. I only hope you act with reason."
"Then you approve?"
"Approval was never needed. I merely offer suggestions."
Smiling faintly, Aizen turned slightly, his glasses glinting in the lamplight.
"Just a word of warning, then.
Friendship and faith are fragile things—they shatter easily when tested by reality.
Trusting old comrades or lovers… may bring you nothing but pain."
"We accept that risk," Kagami said calmly.
"Good," Aizen murmured.
And in the next heartbeat, Kagami vanished.
No sound, no chakra—only a flicker of motion and a sudden emptiness.
Kakashi's mind barely registered what had happened before the hairs on his neck stood on end.
He spun around—
and found himself staring into a pair of scarlet Sharingan, the three tomoe whirling lazily.
The Uchiha stood behind him, silent, expression unreadable.
Kakashi instinctively activated his Still Blood Armor, blue light flaring around his body as he drew a kunai and short blade.
What kind of teleportation jutsu was that?!
He thought in shock. I've never seen an Uchiha this fast before!
He was ready to fight—
but Kagami didn't move.
He merely regarded the boy with a look of quiet, almost parental sorrow.
As though staring at a child too young to understand what monster he had called "father."
After a long silence, the man sighed.
"…Hatake Kakashi, isn't it? The prodigy son of Sakumo Hatake. Next time you decide to eavesdrop, hide your presence better. Don't let that man catch you."
"Huh? Aren't you two on the same side?" Kakashi asked bluntly.
Kagami's lips twitched in a bitter, complicated smile.
"Matters between adults are often both simple and impossibly tangled. Aizen Sōsuke is… not like us. Be cautious around him."
"Oh my," came a smooth voice from the doorway.
"Now, that's not something I can just pretend I didn't hear."
Aizen stood at the entrance, hands tucked into his sleeves, his eyes curved in a gentle smile.
"Gossiping about me in my own home—now that's rather ungracious, don't you think?
Even a patient man has limits."
Kagami's eyes narrowed.
"If you truly had limits, Aizen, I might believe you."
Aizen chuckled.
"Still wasting time? Dan's been waiting at your rendezvous point for an hour now."
"…You're right."
Kagami gave Aizen one last, searching look—then his body sank into shadow, vanishing with a low whoosh.
This time, Kakashi caught it: a dark void spread from Kagami's feet, swallowing him whole before snapping shut.
---
Aizen approached calmly, his footsteps light on the wooden floor.
"Uchiha Kagami. Katō Dan," he said thoughtfully. "Two of Konoha's most remarkable shinobi.
If you're curious about them, you could always ask around—look through the archives.
You might uncover something interesting, Kakashi-kun."
"No thanks," the boy muttered, crouching to brush the dust from the floor. "If it has to do with you, I'd rather not know. I'm not that curious."
"Ah, what a pity."
Aizen smiled faintly. "In that case, let's move on to your next task."
"…The Still Blood Armor's finished. What's next?"
"Then it's time," Aizen said softly, eyes glinting behind his lenses,
"to begin research on its counterpart—
the Moving Blood Armor."
He smiled again—serene, confident, and utterly unreadable.
As though the entire village, and every soul within it, already danced in the palm of his hand.