Chapter 10: Scroll of Seals Viewing Permission
In truth, Aizen held no hatred toward Konoha.
If anything, he felt sympathy.
Not only for Konoha, but for all the hidden villages scattered across the ninja world.
Their limited knowledge and narrow perspective had confined their understanding of the world. The feuds and rivalries passed down through generations had made conflict second nature.
Almost any reason—any action—so long as it targeted an enemy, could be justified. Ethics, morality, propriety, integrity, even sha—none of these mattered. They were shinobi, born to fight.
Yet within that endless cycle of violence, there were always those who resisted. Those who refused to be bound by it.
Aizen never judged the Hokage, nor the founder of the one village one nation system. In fact, he admired the First Hokage deeply.
Though lacking in intellect and systemic vision, Hashirama Senju governed through pure conviction—simple and direct. And that, too, was a kind of greatness.
Aizen respected people who acted, even if their choices weren’t ideal. To abandon established constraints, to shatter social hierarchies, to move forward into the unknown—that alone deserved acknowledgnt.
If Hashirama failed to create sothing better, it was not for lack of will but for lack of ans.
The environnt itself was flawed. There was no Central Academy of Shinobi Studies. Knowledge was fragnted. History was poorly understood. Philosophy was absent. Expecting such people to construct an enduring and effective system was unrealistic.
And yet, the First Hokage had at least recognized these flaws. He sought to buy ti—with both power and rcy.
Distributing the tailed beasts among the villages to balance the scales of war, he hoped to use peace, however fragile, to allow education and structure to take root—until a world centered on Konoha’s ideals could finally be established.
But the plan died with him.
The First Hokage quarreled with his closest friend, Uchiha Madara. Their final battle at the Valley of the End left one dead and the other broken. Hashirama died soon after, consud by regret.
What followed was chaos.
The system he envisioned had been born, but the ambition of n twisted it. Within a generation, the First Shinobi World War erupted—Konoha against the world.
A grand vision perished in flas, leaving only bitterness and vengeance.
Whether Hashirama truly possessed that wisdom or not, Aizen couldn’t say. But he felt the loss keenly. It was a tragedy of ideals crushed by the weight of human nature.
And yet, it was precisely because of those early policies—Hashirama’s scattered seeds—that Aizen could rise so easily within Konoha, even with his limited chakra reserves.
Now, that very system granted him the perfect opportunity to view the village’s greatest treasure—the Scroll of Seals.
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“…The Scroll of Seals?” the Third Hokage asked, narrowing his eyes. “What information are you seeking, Sosuke?”
“Yes,” Aizen replied, bowing respectfully before the Hokage and Elder Danzo. “I wish to research materials related to ti space ninjutsu and other forbidden techniques.”
Sarutobi exhaled a slow stream of smoke. “That’s quite a request.”
“My research on the Blut Vene has reached a bottleneck,” Aizen continued. “To move forward, I need new references. My goal is to develop techniques that can benefit mid and lower level ninjas. Access to the forbidden texts is essential. If I can analyze and simplify existing forbidden arts, it could increase the survival rate of those on the battlefield.”
Danzo’s single visible eye glinted with interest. “You’re only a Chunin, Sosuke.”
Aizen raised his head, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with calm confidence.
“It is because I am a Chunin, Hokage sama,” he said. “That’s precisely why I understand their limitations better than anyone.”
He spoke evenly, his tone neither humble nor defiant.
“The Chunin rank is the most awkward place in the hierarchy. We stand above the Genin who’ve just graduated—but far below the seasoned Jonin who shape this village. Even the Special Jonin, though limited in scope, surpass us in specific expertise.”
“The love Chunin and Genin have for Konoha is no less than that of any Jonin. Yet, due to lack of power, they cannot express it. This helplessness… it’s a tragedy. Worse still, the villagers have grown accustod to it.”
He looked directly at the Hokage, his voice calm yet firm.
“I don’t believe that’s the path the Will of Fire intended.”
Sarutobi Hiruzen frowned, lost in thought. Danzo’s expression remained unreadable, though his mind was clearly turning behind those cold eyes.
“War is coming,” Aizen continued quietly. “And I am only a Chunin. I can’t change that. But I can still contribute. If my research can turn forbidden techniques into tools accessible for the lower ranks, then perhaps more of our people will return ho alive.”
He bowed deeply once again.
“That is my wish, Sandai sama.”
“…Sosuke.”
Sarutobi inhaled deeply, his pipe glowing faintly. Countless thoughts swirled through his mind as he studied the young man before him.
During Aizen’s ti as acting advisor, he had managed to fill voids the other consultants had neglected. His sense of structure—his precision—had brought new cohesion to Konoha.
In past administrations, ninja coordination had always been tied to politics and clan interests. The “Will of Fire” often beca little more than rhetoric—a tool for morale, not unity.
Aizen had changed that.
He introduced the Mutual Assistance Policy, reorganizing squads under a shared financial and operational system. Each squad beca a small, interdependent unit under a supervising Jonin. Several of these units, woven together, ford a larger command group—a network of cooperation and trust.
It was simple, elegant, and efficient.
Under Aizen’s influence, the bonds between Konoha’s shinobi families grew stronger than ever before.
Although the war had yet to break out on a large scale, the humanistic appeasent policy advocated by Aizen had made remarkable progress within a single month.
The atmosphere within Konoha remained tense, but cooperation between squads had improved dramatically. Mutual trust and tolerance had begun to rise to unprecedented levels.
Even the Sandai Hokage found himself astonished by how swiftly the administrative strain had eased under Aizen’s quiet influence.
From a political standpoint, if Aizen truly managed to develop a shared technique usable by mid and lower level shinobi, it would beco an imnse strategic advantage for Konoha.
But such progress ca with risks.
If other nations—especially the Four Great Shinobi Countries with blood ties to Konoha’s origins—caught wind of the technique, it could be stolen or replicated. Once that happened, Konoha’s tactical superiority would evaporate, and the pressure on the village would multiply overnight.
After much deliberation, the Sandai finally made his decision.
“…The Blut Vene is indeed an exceptional technique,” he said gravely. “If you have the ability to develop it further, then permission to access the Scroll of Seals shall be granted.”
The Third Hokage’s eyes softened as he looked at Aizen Sosuke, who stood before him with composed humility.
“However,” Hiruzen continued, “the technique you develop cannot be freely disseminated. Secrecy will be paramount.”
“Yes, Sandai sama.”
“As for the details, discuss them with Danzo. I have other matters to attend to.”
The Hokage nodded toward the shadowed corner of the office before vanishing silently.
He had co personally to gauge Aizen’s intentions. Now that the decision was made, managent of the forbidden arts would fall under its usual jurisdiction—the control of Danzo Shimura.
From the shadows, the bandaged elder stepped forward, his presence heavy and cold.
“If you require assistance with forbidden techniques or research into esoteric arts,” Danzo said, his tone low and deliberate, “you may co directly to . Even if it involves human experintation.”
“Human experints… I understand.”
“…You’re not surprised?” Danzo’s single visible eye narrowed, his expression shifting into faint amusent.
“I thought soone like you—a man with such ‘ideals’—would reject my thods outright. Perhaps even report to Hiruzen.” His smile was thin, almost mocking. “But you don’t seem bothered.”
“Not quite.”
Aizen adjusted his glasses, his voice calm but sincere.
“I still care very much, Danzo sama. But Konoha is a hidden village. Darkness is necessary for its survival. In fact, I respect those who carry that burden. You and those under you conceal your nas for Konoha’s sake, doing what others cannot bear to see. Without your sacrifices, Konoha’s light could never shine so brightly.”
“…It’s good that you understand,” Danzo said, his tone easing slightly. “It isn’t only the righteous who achieve great things. I have high expectations for you, Aizen Sosuke.”
“By the way, Elder Danzo,” Aizen said suddenly, as though recalling sothing. “The Sannin are still serving as the supre commanders on the borders, correct?”
“Yes,” Danzo replied. “The three of them are most effective together. And as an acting advisor, you should already know of Tsunade’s… current condition. Why do you ask?”
“Nothing in particular,” Aizen replied with a faint smile. “It just occurred to that having all three stationed on one front might lead to an imbalance. Concentrating such strength in one area could expose other regions to pressure, possibly leading to unforeseen complications. That was all. And Tsunade sama…”
“Don’t overthink it,” Danzo interrupted. “Tsunade isn’t so fragile. As for your concerns, I’ll report them to Hiruzen. Anything else?”
“No, Danzo sama.”
“Then go. Hiruzen and I will assign several Jonin familiar with space ti ninjutsu to assist and guard you. Don’t disappoint the Hokage. Or .”
Aizen bowed deeply. “Of course. The Aizen Sosuke you know will never disappoint anyone in Konoha.”
“…Good.”
Danzo gave him one final look—one that lingered between admiration and suspicion—before his form lted back into the shadows.
When the room was quiet once more, Aizen remained still for a long mont. Then, after obtaining permission to access the Book of Seals and contacting several senior ninja, he finally left the Hokage Building.
The sky outside had already dimd. The discussion had lasted longer than expected. The afternoon sun had set, and the pale moon now hung high, glowing faintly against the crimson horizon.
The sounds of Konoha’s nightlife rose around him—the chatter of rchants, the laughter of children, the faint clang of distant training grounds.
Aizen tilted his head back and gazed at the moon above. His glasses reflected its silver light as a faint smile curved his lips.
“So… Uchiha Kagami and Kato Dan should have reached the Sannin’s base by now,” he murmured softly. “I’m looking forward to their decision.”
He lowered his head and stepped into the crowd. His pure white haori glead under the flickering lamps, rippling softly with every movent.
Whether in the Soul Society or in this world, humanity remained the sa—bound by cages of emotion and perception.
Back then, in the Soul Society, he had misunderstood courage and faith. He had dismissed them as the delusions of fools who couldn’t see the truth.
But after the Thousand Year Blood War, Aizen had co to understand his own limitations.
If one man could not accomplish change, then perhaps several could. If one person fell, another could stand beside them. If people gathered under one purpose—one truth—they could beco sothing unstoppable.
And if those people, enlightened by understanding, stood before him one day…
That would be true joy.
“If only,” he whispered, smiling faintly, “everyone could be a little more rational… and stop hurting themselves.”
In the courtyard below, Kakashi was silently throwing shuriken at a target, his movents sharp and precise.
Aizen pushed his glasses again, the moonlight gleaming across the lenses, and walked toward his adopted son with an unreadable expression.
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