Chapter 76: Dancing in the Night
News from the Konoha Command Center spread quickly throughout the village.
There was no reason to hide it—after all, once Aizen Sosuke opened the door to the truth, he began to strike mercilessly at the noble families within Konoha.
The man who had always been calm, polite, and gentle—the one everyone saw as the village's shining example—finally revealed the fury of the Will of Fire.
Aizen openly condemned the great clans who had ignored their people, accusing them of hypocrisy and negligence. He targeted the families whose greed had eroded Konoha's economic stability and moral foundation, stripping away their false dignity in front of the entire administration.
Yet amid the storm, one clan was praised—the Uchiha.
Aizen acknowledged that, unlike others, the Uchiha rarely exploited outsiders. Their businesses employed mostly family members, and even when they dealt with civilians, they did so fairly. Proud and self-contained, the Uchiha looked down on petty corruption. For once, their pride had become their shield.
The Hyuga, on the other hand, escaped with only minor scolding. They still oppressed their branch families, but they maintained a clean façade before the public—just enough to avoid Aizen's direct wrath.
The rest weren't so fortunate.
Even when the clan heads came personally to apologize, Aizen's anger didn't waver.
When the Third Hokage heard of the confrontation, he rushed to intervene, trying to mediate the dispute. But even Hiruzen found himself powerless before Aizen's conviction.
"If the Will of Fire continues to weaken like this," Aizen said coldly, "then why should it burn at all? Our duty is to protect this flame—not watch it fade."
Those words struck deep, leaving the Hokage speechless. In the end, Hiruzen retreated under the pretext of diplomatic business—fleeing from the growing storm rather than facing it.
That single act of avoidance, however, only worsened the situation.
The tension between Aizen and the great clans, which had seemed to ease after his appointment, now reignited with greater ferocity.
Days passed. The Moon Dream epidemic still spread silently, while unrest built within Konoha.
Aizen's followers—his students and aides who wore white haori—began to split. Some, fearing the growing pressure, quietly removed their uniforms and returned to their clans. Others, still young and burning with conviction, stood firm. They patrolled the streets, helped civilians, and upheld Aizen's ideals of order and compassion.
The Uchiha, meanwhile, grew closer to Aizen's faction.
Many within the clan admired his integrity, and out of gratitude for his public praise, they assisted his supporters in maintaining peace across the village. They asked for nothing in return, and even when others accused them of seizing influence, the Uchiha didn't deny it—they had earned that respect.
But as the Moon Dream continued to spread, the divide deepened. Villagers began choosing sides—silently but decisively.
Taverns once filled with laughter grew quiet and tense. Conversations turned sharp, political, and dangerous. The entire village began to feel the suffocating pressure of something approaching—a crisis neither seen nor named.
By the time May arrived, the air itself felt heavy.
In Konoha, defying the clans was equivalent to signing your own death sentence. Everyone knew Aizen was right—but that didn't mean they dared to stand beside him.
Gradually, his once-unshakable popularity began to fracture.
Aizen's fame had been built on universal admiration. But now, with the noble families—the voices of influence—turning against him, even the common folk began to hesitate. His name, once synonymous with hope, became a topic whispered in uncertainty.
When he walked through the marketplace, villagers no longer greeted him warmly. When he visited schools to speak to the next generation, the children averted their eyes, as if sensing the tension surrounding him.
Aizen ignored the warnings.
He ignored the quiet pleas of his allies to step back, to compromise, to let the fire cool. He continued to act according to his principles—unyielding, unbending.
The academic community, once lively, now trembled beneath the tension. The air in the research halls grew thick and oppressive.
Finally, Namikaze Minato could no longer stand by.
He came to Aizen's office one night, his face grave.
"Brother Aizen," Minato said softly, "we can't keep going like this. Even Kushina feels it—you're in danger. Everyone knows you're right, but you don't need to do this now."
Aizen said nothing. He sat in silence, head lowered, eyes shadowed by the dim light. Anger—or perhaps sorrow—was written across his expression.
Minato stepped closer, lowering himself on one knee before him.
"In a few years, things will be different," he said earnestly. "People's lives will improve, and they'll understand what you're trying to do. But right now… if you keep pushing like this, they'll turn on you. Those clans won't forgive you for taking away their comfort."
Aizen's lips moved, his voice low and cold.
"…I know."
"Then, big brother—"
"Minato-kun, you have to understand," Aizen said quietly. "There are some things you don't avoid simply because the road ahead is full of obstacles. It's like when you decided to save Kushina, no matter what stood in your way. The question isn't whether you can do it—it's whether you must."
Without even glancing at the worried Minato Namikaze, Aizen lifted his brush and moved his wrist smoothly across the rice paper.
A single, bold character appeared—anger.
The word seemed alive, as if it carried a pulse. Even without chakra, it radiated a fierce energy—a raw, unfiltered will. Just looking at it made Minato's throat tighten and his palms grow cold.
Even without another word, the message was clear: Aizen could not be swayed. His resolve was absolute.
His goal now was unmistakable—to make the great clans bow, to force them to stand united for Konoha, whether they wanted to or not.
"Sometimes," Aizen continued, his voice firm and steady, "you simply have to act. Don't hold back because you fear resistance or imperfection. When something is right, you move forward. You fight the filth—the rot that festers beneath the surface."
He turned to Minato, his gaze sharp yet calm.
"Konoha doesn't have much time left, Minato-kun. You know this as well as I do. Even the research department knows it. Every other village is strengthening its armies with chakra-based technology. And what are we doing? Are we going to tell them that Konoha has 'fair wealth distribution' and expect them to respect us?"
His tone darkened. "That's impossible. We've reached a turning point in history. We must make a choice—now. Only decisive action will allow Konoha to truly prosper."
"You're the most exceptional ninja I've ever seen," Aizen said softly, his tone shifting into something almost paternal. "You, of all people, understand the danger we're in. Maybe my methods seem harsh… but look around. Should these parasites really continue to thrive while the village bleeds?"
He sighed and looked out the window, his reflection caught in the moonlight. "Other villages are merging their power. And what are we doing?"
Minato remained silent, his blue eyes trembling. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.
Aizen's words weren't wrong. Everyone knew it.
Konoha was running out of time.
The Moon Dream had brought the entire world to a standstill—slowing war preparations, freezing rival nations in place. But that peace was an illusion, fragile and temporary. The moment any village discovered how to break it, their armies would recover instantly. The next great war would follow within weeks.
And when that time came, whoever broke the illusion first would control the world's future.
"Brother Aizen…" Minato murmured, his voice low, uncertain.
"Let's put the clan matters aside for now," Aizen interrupted. "There's something I need to ask of you."
Minato's expression tightened as Aizen reached into his robe and pulled out a small bundle of strange, thread-like incense sticks. Their tips shimmered faintly with blue chakra residue.
He placed them gently in Minato's hand.
"Put one of these by my bedside and light it," Aizen said. "I intend to experience this so-called Moon Dream myself. If all goes as planned, I'll awaken soon—and when I do, I'll find the answer we need to end this plague."
"—!"
Minato froze. His breath caught in his chest.
He understood instantly what Aizen was implying… and his heart filled with dread.
"Brother Aizen! You don't need to go that far!"
"If I don't, then who will?" Aizen replied, his eyes unwavering. "If I don't, who else do you expect to sacrifice themselves?"
"I'm sure others would help you! We're all ready to—"
"So tell me," Aizen interrupted calmly, "who are these others?"
Minato opened his mouth but no words came out.
He tried to think of names—loyal subordinates, brave researchers, comrades who would volunteer. But when it came down to it, he couldn't name a single person he was willing to send in Aizen's place.
The moment of hesitation was all Aizen needed.
A faint smile curved his lips. "That's what I thought."
Minato's throat tightened. His hands clenched around the incense bundle.
"Brother…" he whispered. "What are you planning to do?"
"I'm simply doing what I can," Aizen replied gently. "After all, this may very well be my final act in Konoha."
Minato's eyes widened in disbelief.
Aizen's expression remained serene as he adjusted his glasses. The faint glint of the lens reflected the candlelight, giving him an almost saintly air.
"If I can't make you grow into the ideal shinobi quickly," he said, "then all my efforts will be meaningless. I've already recommended you to the Sandaime. He's pleased with your progress. If something happens to me…"
He smiled faintly, his voice calm but resolute.
"…then it will be reassuring to know that Konoha has a successor ready to stand in my place."
<><><><><>
[Check Out My Patreon For +40 Advance Chapters On All My Fanfics!]
[[email protected]/FanficLord03]
[Every 100 Power Stones = +1 Bonus Chapter]
[Join Our Discord Community For Updates & Events]
[https://discord.gg/MntqcdpRZ9]