How could Aizen not understand what was happening?
From the very beginning of this academy session, he had been walking the line like the angel between devils, radiating calm, confidence, and something darker. Even the oddest students, the so-called "weirdos," had begun giving him respect. And now, suddenly, someone dared to challenge him?
That wasn't just weird. That was suspicious.
Especially when he recognised the surnames: Shimura Naoya and his companion, Kaito. Both from clans connected to Konoha's inner circle. The elders' clans.
Aizen's mind immediately jumped to one name. Shimura Danzo.
Danzo… just wait. I'll slowly turn the village against you. Make even your allies flinch at the mere mention of your name.
He realised the challenge likely wasn't random. It had probably been sparked by his recent visit to the White Fang's residence. Someone was testing the waters.
While the rest of the students were stunned, the most confused of all was Naoya himself. He had issued a personal challenge to Aizen, nothing more. So why was everyone acting like this was a feud between clans?
Kaito, his friend, caught on to the tension quickly and stepped in.
"Shut up!" Kaito snapped at the crowd. "When did he ever say anything about challenging the Uchiha clan?"
He tried to sound composed, but his voice trembled slightly. He was clearly shaken by the sudden escalation.
Aizen, unbothered, replied coolly.
"Didn't he say he wanted to teach the Uchiha brats a lesson?"
His voice carried across the courtyard, sharp and deliberate. He wasn't raising his voice. He didn't need to. Everyone had heard the insult.
"Yeah, I heard it," someone muttered in the background.
"Same here," another agreed.
Naoya and Kaito looked around in panic as the atmosphere thickened with tension. Even some Shimura clan observers standing nearby started whispering among themselves nervously.
Then, just before things could spiral out of control:
"Enough."
A strong, composed voice silenced the courtyard. Heads turned.
A tall man approached, his flak jacket marking him as a Chūnin. He wore the symbol of Konoha on his forehead protector.
Hanaba Shimura. An academy instructor and member of Naoya's extended family.
He walked forward with authority and calm.
"There seems to be a misunderstanding," he said, voice steady. "The Shimura clan has no intention of challenging the Uchiha. This was a personal challenge by Naoya for you, nothing more."
His eyes turned toward Naoya, expectant, instructive.
Naoya swallowed, then nodded quickly. "Yes… I misspoke. It was my mistake. A poor choice of words."
"It's fine," Aizen said, loud enough for the surrounding students and instructors to hear. "I forgive the Shimura clan for being dragged into this awkward situation. After all," his eyes flicked to Hanaba, then Naoya, "you're all Shimura, aren't you? Just make sure not to embarrass your clan like this again."
The entire courtyard froze.
Aizen's tone wasn't harsh. If anything, it was polite. Respectful. But somehow, that made it worse, because it wasn't just a personal statement anymore.
It was phrased like an Uchiha pardoning a Shimura misstep.
Even the instructors couldn't fully hide their reactions. A few eyebrows twitched. A couple of students gasped.
Naoya's face burned in humiliation.
Aizen smiled faintly.
This brat… he cursed inwardly, not at Aizen, but at the elders of his own clan. There was no way Naoya had acted on his own. Hanaba had been around long enough to recognise the stench of politics. This was a move orchestrated by the higher-ups, likely to test the waters or provoke a reaction from the Uchiha.
And they had failed. Spectacularly.
Worse still, he had been caught in the crossfire.
Hanaba felt the heat rising in his own cheeks, not from shame, but from frustration. He was a loyal Shimura. He wore the name with pride. But this? This wasn't loyalty. It was stupidity wrapped in ambition.
Now I'll be the one hearing snide comments in the teacher's lounge. "Hey, Hanaba, control your clan's kids better."
Aizen hadn't just defused the situation. He had reframed it. Turned it into a public pardon, as if the mighty Uchiha had graciously overlooked a Shimura's offense. That kind of social move didn't fade easily in a place like Konoha.
Hanaba exhaled through his nose and placed a firm hand on Naoya's shoulder, squeezing just enough for the boy to flinch.
"We'll talk later," he muttered, voice low.
Then, straightening his back, he gave Aizen a stiff nod. "We appreciate your… understanding."
Aizen nodded back, calm, composed, all diplomacy.
But Hanaba saw something else behind that faint smile.
Not arrogance. Not defiance.
Something far more dangerous.
A quiet calculation.
A sense of control no five-year-old should possess.
No… I'm imagining things, Hanaba told himself quickly, brushing away the thought. Must be my nerves. There's no way a kid that age could be orchestrating anything like this.
It had to be a coincidence. A fluke of timing.
After all, there was nothing strange on the surface. Aizen was known around the academy as polite, well-spoken, helpful to teachers and friendly with his peers. He wasn't like a typical Uchiha at all.
He greeted people outside his clan. He smiled. He offered to help even non-clan students with their basics.
In fact, many of the staff had started referring to him as the "model student"—bright, humble, and respectful. Some even whispered he might one day become a symbol of unity between the clans.
"A true child of the Will of Fire," one instructor had praised just last week.
And yet…
Hanaba couldn't shake the strange feeling in his chest.
Why did it feel like they were the ones dancing while this child quietly pulled the strings?
He looked again at Aizen.
That soft smile hadn't changed.
But now it looked a lot less innocent.
I should leave, Hanaba thought grimly.
He had said what he needed to. The situation was publicly smoothed over.
With a final glance toward Naoya, still burning red with shame, and another at Aizen, who now looked like a calm prince receiving tribute, Hanaba turned and left.
He didn't need a debrief to know this incident would echo further than it looked on the surface.
This wasn't just a scuffle between academy students.
Smart man, Aizen noted inwardly as he watched Hanaba retreat. Knows when to cut his losses. Rare trait in a loyalist.
Without saying much, he adjusted the collar of his shirt and turned toward Kakashi.
"Let's go," he said casually, as if nothing had happened.
Kakashi gave a subtle nod, falling in step beside him.
Aizen had no interest in a mock battle with someone he could easily defeat. There was no benefit. No growth. No message worth sending.
All this had done was confirm something he already suspected. Certain individuals still played their little power games, even through children.
But unlike them, Aizen didn't need a stage or a script. He preferred to write the story from behind the curtain, with everyone else dancing unknowingly to his tune.
***************
Some idea's for manipulation