Chapter 80: Death of Aizen
"…Now that things have come to this, what can we do?"
"I believe this might be the best opportunity, Sandaime-sama."
Seated across from the Third Hokage, Aizen adjusted his glasses, his voice calm yet heavy with conviction.
"Currently, the Cloud Village has unified its clans and villages, but it lacks true power. The Sand and Stone villages are defensive by nature—strong in endurance, weak in offense. As for the Mist, they're isolated overseas, their influence limited."
He paused. "But the clan ninjas here in Konoha…"
Sarutobi Hiruzen's expression darkened. He stopped himself before he could say more.
No one understood Aizen's contributions better than he did—the sleepless nights spent researching chakra theory, the reforms that rebuilt Konoha's reputation, the tireless devotion to stability and progress.
Aizen had not only become one of Konoha's most brilliant scientists, but also a voice of reform and a cornerstone of public trust. Without his guidance, the village might have already plunged into chaos.
War was still inevitable—but unlike the other nations preparing for defense, Konoha stood boldly in a position of offense. That alone was a miracle.
Because now, every other village knew the same truth: none of them could defeat Konoha in its current state.
And yet… even the strongest man cannot please everyone.
Watching Aizen's unwavering composure, Hiruzen felt both admiration and pain. The young man carried the Will of Fire in his own way—but always alone, shouldering burdens too great for one person.
But Aizen showed no sign of regret. Seeing Hiruzen's hesitation, he smiled faintly.
"In times of total war, the concept of family loses its meaning, Sandaime-sama. Surely you understand that."
He continued smoothly, "Tomorrow, you and the clan heads will each take a step back. If we do that, we can complete our preparations for war immediately. Otherwise, internal conflict will only delay Konoha's advance."
"Chaos…" Hiruzen muttered under his breath. "The clans know what's at stake. They won't fight among themselves now. They'll compromise. Unless…"
"Unless they no longer wish to live," Aizen interrupted softly.
Hiruzen frowned. "And what about you, Sosuke? Even if they do yield for now, you must realize that Konoha is built on both sacrifice and family. If you push them too far, the backlash will fall on you."
Aizen smiled again, the gleam in his glasses reflecting the lamplight.
"I've already conducted a detailed analysis of the Moon Dream phenomenon. I personally experienced it myself, so I now possess firsthand data. You have nothing to worry about, Sandaime-sama. After tomorrow, everything will be resolved."
Hiruzen sighed, clearly troubled. "You're still young, Sosuke. You think too far ahead…"
But Aizen's tone grew firm. "I know what you're afraid of. You think I'm moving beyond my limits. But everything I do is for Konoha—for the Will of Fire itself. No matter how much resistance I face, I will never regret forcing the clan ninjas to take responsibility for their corruption. It is their fault, and I refuse to ignore it."
He stood up slowly, his white haori swaying.
"As for the clans, I've already developed a winning theory—based on my Moon Dream research. During tomorrow's public meeting, I'll reveal everything. You only need to wait for confirmation."
"Winning theory?"
"Yes," Aizen said, his smile faint but confident. "I'll keep you in suspense for now. But I've discovered a direct link between Moon Dream and the clan ninjas. Once it's presented, this issue will finally be settled."
"…Then I'll trust you, Sosuke."
After a long pause, Sarutobi Hiruzen nodded. He had always believed in Aizen's genius, and this time would be no different. The man had achieved the impossible before—turning crises into order, chaos into strategy.
Even as the Hokage, Hiruzen found himself breathing easier. Aizen's words carried an inexplicable calm, a gravity that made the absurd sound reasonable.
He left with quiet relief.
But the moment Hiruzen's figure disappeared, a thin shadow stepped silently into the room.
Aizen didn't even look up. He simply adjusted his glasses and said, "Orochimaru-kun, you came too."
"There must have been quite a few before me," Orochimaru replied with a grin, his golden eyes gleaming in the dim light. "I can't shake the feeling that you're planning something again."
Aizen's lips curved. "You're right. The plan will reach completion tomorrow. I'm looking forward to everyone's performance."
"Performance…" Orochimaru chuckled softly. "So this is the 'trial' you mentioned before?"
"Very close."
Even as he spoke, Aizen's calm never faltered.
"I highly recommend you try the Moon Dream. It's a light for those lost in confusion. Though it leaves a mark, it helps one rediscover their original intent."
"So it's marked…" Orochimaru murmured. "Then your research has finally produced results?"
"These are just early findings," Aizen replied modestly. "The real implementation will still take time."
Orochimaru smirked, his expression a mix of intrigue and envy. "If our ideals weren't so different, I'd have joined you already. But if I were to be swayed by your vision now, all my years of pursuit would lose meaning."
"That's why I never tried to recruit you."
"How cruel," Orochimaru said with a low laugh. "To hide half the truth, then tell me not to follow. You really are insufferable."
Still, despite his words, his eyes lingered on Aizen a moment longer before he turned to leave.
"Since I know you've made your preparations, I'll take my leave."
"Oh, walk carefully," Aizen said softly, still smiling.
Orochimaru paused at the doorway, glancing toward the distant corridor. "You'll have more guests soon," he said knowingly, then vanished into the night.
Not long after, a shinobi with crimson Sharingan eyes stepped into the lamplight and bowed deeply before Aizen. Moments later, another arrived—this one with the pale eyes of the Hyuga, his face solemn and expression unreadable.
Even past midnight, visitors continued to arrive at Aizen's residence—some confident, others hesitant, a few looking visibly uneasy after crossing paths with one another. Aizen greeted each of them differently. Some left his room with dark, resentful faces, while others departed smiling as though they'd just received his blessing.
It was long after midnight, when most lights in Konoha had already dimmed, that Aizen finally concluded his work for the day. He extinguished the lanterns in his writing room, the faint scent of ink lingering in the air, then turned toward the faint shadow standing beyond the paper screen.
"Minato-kun," he said gently, "you can rest now."
"But… Brother Aizen, are you sure everything will be fine tomorrow?"
Stepping out from the shadows, Minato Namikaze looked up at the tall figure before him, unease flickering in his bright blue eyes. Something deep inside told him that tomorrow would bring misfortune—that something terrible was about to happen. Seeking reassurance, he gazed at Aizen with quiet desperation.
Aizen, as always, met his gaze with calm confidence.
"Of course there's no problem," he said, his tone steady and warm. "All preparations are complete. My work in Konoha will soon reach its conclusion. When that time comes, everyone will be satisfied. Konoha's Aizen Sosuke will not disappoint anyone."
Hearing those words, Minato's expression softened. "That's… good. I feel relieved now."
Aizen smiled faintly. "Then I'll see you tomorrow, Minato-kun."
He watched as Minato walked away, the young man's silhouette fading into the misty night. Then, quietly, Aizen stepped inside his hut and extinguished the final lamp.
Outside, the wind whispered across Konoha's rooftops. The night passed heavily, and even when dawn came, the clouds did not lift.
The sun rose unseen behind a thick veil of gray, casting the village in a somber half-light. Yet, for Konoha's citizens, this was nothing unusual. They had grown accustomed to such mornings—rainy, overcast, endlessly gray.
Workers assigned to clean Hokage Rock began their daily climb, hauling buckets and ropes up the steep slope. Their laughter echoed faintly across the cliffs—until a strange sensation interrupted their routine.
Something warm splashed against their faces.
Startled, one of the workers reached up and felt the viscous liquid between his fingers. Slowly, fearfully, they all tilted their heads upward.
Then, one of them screamed.
"Ahhhhhhh!!!"
The shriek tore through the morning fog, echoing across Konoha like a thunderclap.
"Aizen-sama! Aizen-sama, he—!"
"What's going on?! What happened to Lord Aizen?!"
"On the Hokage Rock—!"
"The Hokage Rock!"
A group of nearby ninjas dashed out from under the eaves, irritated by the commotion—until they followed the pointing fingers and looked up.
Their voices died instantly.
The fog that had cloaked the village began to thin, and when it did, the terrible truth was revealed to all.
Against the gray sky, a white haori fluttered in the wind—stained a deep, dark red.
Aizen Sosuke's body hung high upon the Hokage Rock, pierced through the chest by a single blade that pinned him against the stone. The blood that had once surged through him had long begun to dry, yet it continued to drip down the cliffside in slow, deliberate streams, dyeing the carved faces of the First and Second Hokage in crimson.
The man who had always smiled gently, who had guided Konoha with his brilliance and resolve, now hung lifeless—his pale eyes hollow, his body swaying with the morning breeze.
His once-pristine white haori was soaked through, painted scarlet from shoulder to hem. His life's blood ran like rainwater over the rock, pooling at the base of the mountain in dark puddles.
Thunder rumbled overhead, and for a moment, it felt as though the heavens themselves were mourning.
Minato Namikaze stood on a nearby rooftop, staring up at the horrific sight. His blue eyes, once clear and steady, were now filled with bloodshot fury.
"...Aizen… Brother…" he whispered.
A strange, suffocating emotion began to rise inside him—something he had never felt before. It started as a tremor in his chest, then crawled up his spine like a living serpent, burrowing into his skull until his whole body trembled.
Hatred.
So this was hatred.
No wonder the world was drowning in it.
If you couldn't kill the enemy, if you couldn't avenge the dead with equal cruelty, how could the agony in your heart ever fade?
But Aizen had told him that hatred was wrong—that such emotions only led to ruin. And yet… the man who had taught him that truth was now gone.
Then who will wake me now?
Minato turned his gaze toward the crowd below. There was no one there to stop him—only the faces of young shinobi, their eyes red with rage and grief.
The silence was unbearable. Even as more ninjas arrived—clad in white haori, their expressions frozen in disbelief—no one spoke. They simply stared up at the lifeless figure hanging from the mountain.
The rain began to fall, cold and relentless. The scent of iron filled the air, thick enough to taste.
Then came the sound.
Boom!
A blinding flash split the sky, and thunder rolled across Konoha like a roar from the heavens.
Black rain poured down, and the young shinobi stood motionless, their eyes reflecting both the lightning and the corpse above.
For the first time, they understood.
The man who had shielded them from the storms—who had carried their burdens, who had guided them toward the light—was gone.
Konoha's moon had fallen.
The rain trickled down Aizen's pale cheeks, tracing the contours of his still face like tears.
"…Someone has to pay the price."
A voice—low and trembling with fury—rose from the crowd. Then another. And another.
The grief turned to wrath. The wrath turned to resolve.
And in the heavy rain, as black mist began to seep across Konoha, the village itself seemed to shudder.
May 7th, Year 45 of the Konoha Calendar.
Aizen Sosuke—acting Hokage advisor, council elder, and director of the Hokage Chakra Research and Development Bureau—was found dead on Hokage Rock.
The man who carried Konoha's light had perished, leaving only thunder, rain, and silence in his wake.
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