Chapter 23: Aizen Will Always Be My Big Brother!
If you were to ask who Minato Namikaze’s favorite person in the world was, he might hesitate before shyly choosing the fiery redhead, Kushina.
But if you were to ask whom he respected the most, there would be no hesitation at all.
That person was Aizen Sosuke.
In Minato’s heart, there was—and would always be—only one big brother.
Aizen. The man who shielded him from cruelty and malice like a father, and who offered him a quiet harbor when the world was unkind.
When Minato was young, he often followed Aizen around. Or rather, Aizen simply allowed him to. He was patient, protective, and kind to all the younger children—and Minato happened to be one of them.
Unlike the older students who bullied the weak to prove their strength, Aizen never flaunted power. He never acted superior or arrogant. He was always calm, composed, and impossibly polite—convincing everyone through reason rather than force.
To the frail young Minato, Aizen was nothing short of a hero.
He was the moon that quietly illuminated the darkness. The senior who taught them to read, to write, to think. Who reminded them that there was more to life than just fighting and missions.
Even back then, the faint blue glow of that “moon” ward the hearts of countless students who had nearly been crushed by the weight of bullying and fear.
Minato often wondered—if not for Brother Aizen’s presence—what kind of place the Konoha Academy might have beco.
But this world was cruel, after all.
Though Aizen remained a role model to everyone, his actual strength could not match his wisdom. No matter how hard he tried, he had only reached the level of a Chunin.
His knowledge and creativity were unmatched; he developed countless techniques and offered valuable insight to the village. Yet without sufficient battle power, he could never beco Hokage. Instead, he was appointed as a consultant—a re advisor in the grand hierarchy of Konoha.
This truth pained Minato deeply.
In his heart, he had already made a vow: If I ever beco Hokage, I will change that. I will make sure my brother Aizen takes his rightful place at the top.
He believed it wholeheartedly.
Just look at Konoha now—its stability, its prosperity. Who but Aizen could have made this possible?
If Aizen wasn’t the kind of man who deserved to lead, then who was?
Minato didn’t know what his own future would hold, but if he ever beca Hokage, he would ensure that Aizen stood beside him—or even above him—as the true leader of Konoha.
Even now, when the Third Hokage instructed him to record his secret techniques and forbidden jutsu to be entrusted to Aizen, Minato did so without hesitation.
---
“…Minato-kun, in this world, you must never place your complete trust in anyone.”
Watching Minato calmly copy his jutsu onto a scroll and set it before him, Aizen pressed his fingers to his temples in mild exasperation.
“Trust and dependence are synonymous with weakness,” he said quietly. “If you wish to beco Hokage, you must abandon the belief that you can rely on others completely. Otherwise, betrayal will find you—sooner or later.”
"I understand," Minato replied, smiling softly. "But Brother Aizen… you’re different."
He scratched the back of his golden hair and grinned.
"After all, the fact that you say things like that proves you care about . You want to stay alert. And besides, there’s no reason for you to ever betray Konoha, right?"
“…What if I did?”
Aizen’s eyes darkened, his voice lowering like the stillness before a storm.
“What if I pursued a higher realm—a greater purpose? What if I were to use Konoha as a stepping stone to reach that goal? Even then… would you still trust ?”
“Eh? Big Brother, you want to be Hokage?” Minato tilted his head innocently. “If that’s the case, you could just talk to the Sandai about it!”
Aizen blinked. “…How can such a thing be discussed?”
“Why not?” Minato said with cheerful conviction. “Most of the Jonin already support you! The Chunin and Genin, too—everyone in the village believes you’re more effective than the Hokage himself!”
Aizen fell silent.
Is your ambition truly limited to the Hokage’s chair, Minato?
You should aim further than that… You should surpass even .
To Aizen, Minato’s admiration felt bittersweet. It wasn’t the flattery of a student—it was the blind faith of soone who saw him as sothing more than human.
But admiration could beco a cage.
Minato was too brilliant to live in soone else’s shadow.
What was the point of imitation? What was the point of admiration if it ant losing yourself?
He wanted Minato Namikaze to beco the man who could surpass Sousuke Aizen—not another copy of him.
Looking at the radiant young Jonin before him, Aizen exhaled quietly.
“Minato,” he said finally, his voice returning to its usual calm. “You’re a ninja of Konoha. One day, you’ll stand proudly on your own. But don’t say things like that in front of others again. It’ll only cause unnecessary trouble.”
Minato nodded earnestly. “Yes, I understand. I’ll only say it to you, Brother.”
Aizen froze. Then sighed.
“…Forget it. Just ignore him,” he muttered under his breath.
After sorting through fragnts of his mories, Aizen glanced over the scroll that Minato Namikaze had carefully presented.
The two sat quietly in Aizen’s courtyard beneath the faint light of the lanterns, reviewing the intricate markings and theories that filled the parchnt.
It didn’t take long for Aizen to confirm his conclusion—Minato Namikaze was indeed a rare genius.
The scroll contained a ticulous study of space-ti ninjutsu—dozens of formulas, principles, and even speculative extensions of existing techniques. Yet the writing style was poetic and filled with taphor, so much so that only Minato himself could fully interpret it.
Looking at those elaborate, almost dramatic nas, Aizen couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. If Minato hadn’t been sitting beside him translating line by line, even he might have mistaken it for a philosophical essay instead of a technical docunt.
Under Minato’s slightly regretful gaze, Aizen calmly crossed out the flamboyant titles and replaced them with simpler, clearer nas.
As Aizen wrote in silence, the soft rustle of his brush against parchnt filled the air. Minato, seated beside him, finally broke the stillness.
“…By the way, Brother Aizen,” he said hesitantly. “Do you really not want to be Hokage?”
Aizen didn’t even look up. “Huh? Why should I be Hokage? I can already do what’s right from where I stand. There’s no need to waste everyone’s resources on sothing as inefficient as that.”
Still writing, Aizen pushed up his glasses and continued matter-of-factly,
“I’m just an ordinary Chunin. If we’re speaking realistically, each of you has the strength to kill in a fight. Compared to , you’re the ones truly exposed to danger—and only people like you should aim for Hokage. Protecting is a waste of manpower.”
“That may be true in theory,” Minato said, “but Sandai-sama doesn’t think so. A bounty’s been placed on your head in the underground black market. It was already accepted by a rcenary who’s known for never failing a mission.”
Aizen finally paused his writing. “Oh? So even the black market wants to take part in the political gas between villages now. I must say, rogue ninjas these days have ambition.”
“This isn’t a joke,” Minato said seriously. “It’s a real threat. The black market has its own networks and contacts. My mission is to protect you, Big Brother.”
“I still think assigning a Jonin to guard a Chunin is a poor use of resources,” Aizen said casually.
“Big Brother!” Minato protested, exasperated.
Aizen smiled faintly. “Then, Minato, let ask you sothing instead.”
He didn’t lift his eyes from the scroll, his tone calm yet deliberate.
“If one day I walk a path you believe is wrong, what will you do? Suppose the accusations against are false—or perhaps the enemy doesn’t even exist at all. How would you treat then?”
“…”
Minato fell silent, his bright blue eyes reflecting uncertainty. He thought for a long ti before finally answering with honesty.
“…I don’t know,” he admitted softly. “But no matter what you do, I think I’d still follow you.”
He smiled, his words sincere.
“After all, you’ve never done anything wrong. You’re the person I respect the most. But if you ever did betray Konoha—if you truly turned against the village—then I would find you, capture you, and ask who forced you into that decision.”
“Because the Big Brother I know is gentle. He’s soone who holds kindness toward everyone. So whether it’s Konoha or you… I’ll protect both. No matter what happens, no matter the reason—Aizen Sosuke will always be my Big Brother.”
Minato’s tone carried no hesitation. His conviction was as clear and bright as the morning sun that defined him.
This was the promise of Konoha’s little sun.
If it were any other ninja, they would have been moved to tears by such loyalty.
Even the Sandai would have smiled and called it the embodint of the Will of Fire.
But Aizen only watched him in silence.
Because this—this was not the answer he desired.
Just because soone had never done wrong… did that automatically make everything they did right?
Just because the world misunderstood, did that make understanding the sa as truth?
No.
Even when people understand each other perfectly, they can still be enemies. That is reality. That is the nature of humanity.
“…Don’t forget your answer, Minato,” Aizen said at last. His tone softened, almost affectionate. “You’ve passed the test. You’re truly a ninja of Konoha.”
Minato smiled brightly, scratching the back of his head. “Heh, I thought this was so kind of political interview. Glad I didn’t fail.”
Aizen couldn’t help but chuckle quietly.
Just then, the sound of soone climbing over the courtyard wall interrupted their mont.
Both turned their heads.
A white-haired boy peeked in from outside, his expression full of curiosity and faint annoyance.
Their eyes t for the first ti—Kakashi Hatake and Minato Namikaze.
“Is that Hatake Kakashi… Aizen-sama’s adopted son?” Minato murmured.
“And that’s Namikaze Minato, huh? The one who keeps calling Aizen ‘Big Brother’?” Kakashi muttered under his breath.
“…”
They stared at each other for several seconds.
And for so reason, a strange tension filled the air.
It wasn’t hostility exactly—but sothing close.
Like looking into a mirror… and disliking what you saw.
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