Aizen did not hate Konoha.
If anything, he pitied it.
In fact, his sympathy extended not just to Konoha but to all the shinobi villages of this world.
Their narrow understanding and limited knowledge bound their vision and doomed them to repeat the same cycles.
The endless feuds of the old clan era had ingrained the idea that conflict was natural—inevitable.
For the people of this world, any reason, any act of violence, could be justified as long as it was "for the sake of the village."
Ethics, morality, honor—such concepts were ornamental.
They were shinobi, after all—born to serve war.
Yet in this oppressive world, there had always been those who tried to break free from the cycle.
The First Hokage, the creator of the "one village, one nation" system, was one such anomaly.
Aizen had little to say about Hashirama Senju's intelligence or his methods.
But he admired him nonetheless.
Hashirama was not a man of deep strategy.
He governed with simplicity and sincerity, using the most basic, humane ideals to unify a fractured world.
But what mattered was that—he acted.
To Aizen, even an imperfect decision was admirable if it came from the courage to move forward.
Hashirama had cast aside the old restraints, shattered the rigid hierarchies, and pushed the world toward something better.
If he failed to create a perfect system, it was not a flaw of character but a limitation of environment.
Here—
The shinobi were unlearned, unaware of reality.
To expect such people to invent a flawless political structure from nothing was absurd.
Still, Hashirama had at least understood the root of the problem—education—and tried to compensate.
By distributing the Tailed Beasts and enforcing his carrot-and-stick diplomacy, he sought to buy time—time for peace, for understanding, for the root of knowledge that could one day build a lasting system centered on Konoha.
But that dream had died with him.
His partnership with Madara Uchiha collapsed, ending with the legendary Battle in the Valley of the End.
Madara died by his hand, and Hashirama himself soon followed—disheartened, perhaps broken.
Their new world was stillborn.
Each nation now possessed its own weapons, ambitions, and rivalries.
The First Great Shinobi War ignited, consuming the fragile hope that Hashirama had left behind.
A grand ideal, reduced to ash.
All that remained were hatred and vengeance.
Aizen couldn't say whether the founders had foreseen such tragedy, but he considered it deeply regrettable.
Even so, it was precisely because of Hashirama's policies—his radical restructuring of the shinobi world—that someone like Aizen could rise in this era, using modest chakra reserves and intellect alone to reach the highest circles of power in Konoha.
And now, standing at that height, he could finally act—openly, legitimately—on what had long been forbidden.
Today, he would claim access to Konoha's Scroll of Seals.
---
"The Book of Forbidden Jutsus? What exactly are you looking for, Aizen?"
"Information on Space–Time Ninjutsu and other classified techniques."
Facing the confused expressions of the Third Hokage and Elder Danzō Shimura, Aizen bowed respectfully.
"The research on the Still Blood Armor has reached a bottleneck. I now wish to study new jutsu that might aid lower- and mid-level shinobi in combat. Access to the Scroll of Seals is essential. If I can analyze and simplify certain forbidden techniques, perhaps more shinobi will survive on the battlefield."
"But you're only a chūnin, Sōsuke."
"Precisely because I'm a chūnin, Hokage-sama."
Pushing up his glasses, Aizen spoke with quiet confidence.
"It's because I stand in the middle that I understand the struggles of the middle ranks. We're stronger than fresh genin but far weaker than the elite jōnin. Even the few promoted to 'special jōnin' remain stuck in the gap."
"We chūnin and genin love the village no less than any jōnin—but our limited strength keeps us from contributing meaningfully. That powerlessness breeds frustration.
Even the villagers have started to accept this hierarchy as natural. I believe that's a dangerous path."
Hiruzen's brows furrowed in thought, while Danzō's single visible eye gleamed from the shadows.
"War is coming," Aizen continued softly.
"And I know my limits. I don't have the power to change the outcome—but I can still do what I can. Maybe, one day, my research will make the 'forbidden' no longer forbidden."
"Sōsuke…" the Hokage murmured.
Hiruzen exhaled a slow puff of smoke, his mind turning rapidly.
In the short time Aizen had served as Acting Advisor, he had already filled many of the administrative gaps left by Konoha's aging leadership.
Under his influence, Konoha had adopted the squad mutual-aid policy, organizing teams around trust and cooperation rather than rank or clan.
Small squads now shared pooled resources and acted as units under jōnin command, while multiple teams formed larger tactical divisions.
It was a subtle change, but the results were remarkable.
In only a month, morale had improved, cooperation strengthened, and even civilian tolerance for shinobi operations had increased.
Aizen's quiet reforms had transformed Konoha's tense pre-war atmosphere into one of order and focus.
If his next proposal truly aimed to create jutsu accessible to lower ranks, it could multiply the village's combat efficiency.
Of course, the risk was that such techniques, once leaked, might empower the enemy nations instead.
After a long silence, the Hokage spoke.
"The Still Blood Armor is indeed impressive. If you believe you can expand upon it, then… the Scroll of Seals shall be opened to you."
His tone was grave, his decision final.
"However," Hiruzen added sternly, "whatever you develop must not be shared publicly. Secrecy takes precedence."
"Understood, Hokage-sama."
"Then speak with Danzō for the formal arrangements. I have other matters to attend to."
With that, the Hokage nodded to his old comrade and disappeared in a swirl of smoke.
---
Danzō emerged fully from the shadows, his bandaged face half-lit by the lamplight.
"If you require assistance with forbidden or secret techniques," he said curtly, "come directly to me. Even… in matters involving human experimentation."
Aizen's tone did not waver.
"Human experimentation… understood."
Danzō's eyebrow lifted in mild surprise.
"Not shocked? I expected a naïve idealist like you to condemn me outright. That's what Hiruzen was counting on when he sent you here. Yet you seem… unbothered."
"I am," Aizen said with a small sigh, adjusting his glasses. "Deeply concerned, in fact."
His voice was calm, but his gaze was filled with sincere respect.
"Konoha is a Hidden Village. Darkness is a necessity."
"Those who dwell within it—the nameless few who bear the burden others cannot—deserve admiration, not condemnation."
"Without their unseen labor, the light of this village would not shine so brightly."
For a rare moment, Danzō was silent—then nodded approvingly.
"…You understand. Only those unafraid of the dark can achieve great things. I have high hopes for you, Aizen Sōsuke."
"By the way," Aizen added casually, "the border command still rests with the Three Legendary Sannin, correct?"
"Yes," Danzō replied. "Only together can they maintain balance."
"You're aware of Tsunade's condition, I presume. Why do you ask?"
"No particular reason," Aizen said lightly. "I was simply thinking that relying on only three individuals might lead to overextension in certain sectors. Concentrating too much power in one place could cause instability elsewhere. And as for Lady Tsunade…"
"Don't concern yourself," Danzō interrupted.
"She's not as fragile as she looks."
"I'll report any imbalance in the front lines to Hiruzen myself. Anything else?"
"No, Elder Danzō."
"Good. I'll assign several jōnin versed in space–time ninjutsu to assist you. They'll answer your questions—and guard you if needed."
"Don't disappoint Hiruzen. Or me."
"Understood," Aizen replied with a calm smile. "The Aizen Sōsuke everyone knows will never let Konoha down."
"See that you don't," Danzō said, and vanished once more into shadow.
...
After obtaining authorization to access the Book of Seals, Aizen spent several hours coordinating with the appointed jōnin researchers.
By the time he stepped out of the Hokage's Tower, the sun had long set.
A full moon hung high above the village, and the streets buzzed with the sounds of nightlife.
Aizen paused, gazing up at the silver sphere—a man-made celestial body, sustained by chakra and technique.
He smiled faintly, adjusting his glasses.
By now, Uchiha Kagami and Katō Dan should have reached the Sannin's forward base.
I wonder… what choices they'll make.
He stepped into the flow of villagers, his white haori gleaming under the flickering lanterns.
Whether in the Soul Society or this shinobi world, people everywhere remained imprisoned—by emotion, by ignorance, by belief.
Once, Aizen had dismissed courage and conviction as the delusions of fools.
But after the thousand-year war, he'd come to see his own limitations.
One man could not stand alone.
But many, bound by shared will, could rise together.
That was the essence of a collective soul.
If he could grant them understanding—if he could give them a common purpose—
would they, one day, stand before him as equals?
The thought almost made him smile.
"If only," he murmured, "people could be a little more rational… and stop hurting themselves."
In the courtyard ahead, Kakashi Hatake stood silently, hurling shuriken at a wooden target, his small frame tense under the moonlight.
Aizen smiled, pushing up his glasses once more, and walked toward him.