Naruto: Aizen's Shadow in Konoha

Aizen turned his head to see a thin, black-haired young man, waving at him excitedly despite the bandages on his hand. The young man's appearance was unfamiliar, yet something about him felt deeply familiar.

"You're… Shuuji?" Aizen asked cautiously as he stepped forward, searching the young man's face.

"That's right! It's me, Aizen!" the young man exclaimed with joy, grinning widely. His exuberance caused him to wince as the movement disturbed his injured hand.

"It really is you," Aizen said, his usual composure breaking into a rare moment of surprise.

This was Kitagawa Shuuji, the first person Aizen had encountered upon arriving in this world. Shuuji was the best friend of the body's original owner and a key figure in the turbulent past Aizen inherited. It was because of Shuuji that the original owner had once clashed with a group of Sarutobi clan bullies, a confrontation that eventually earned him the ire of Senju Nawaki. The fallout from that incident had set the stage for much of Aizen's early difficulties in Konoha.

"By the way, how have you been?" Aizen asked, his voice calm but laced with curiosity.

"Me? I'm doing alright. I passed the Chūnin exams last year, and I'm now the captain of a team! Of course," Shuuji added with a sheepish chuckle, "I can't compare to a big shot like you."

Aizen studied him thoughtfully, noting the faint but steady chakra signature Shuuji emitted—on par with an elite Chūnin. For someone without a prestigious clan backing or significant resources, Shuuji had done remarkably well. However, his combat ability was likely limited to the level of an average squad leader, a harsh reality for most civilian-born ninjas in Konoha.

"You're injured," Aizen said, his gaze drifting to the bandaged hand. "It looks minor. You could've used a medical scroll for that. Why go to the medical corps?"

Shuuji sighed, his cheerful demeanor faltering. "You know how it is. As a civilian ninja, resources trickle down to us last. I gave away the scrolls I received to friends who needed them more."

There was a trace of bitterness in his voice, and his expression darkened briefly. Aizen nodded, unsurprised. 

Where there were hierarchies, there were divisions. In Konoha, the power and resources were largely concentrated within the Hokage faction and the major clans. Civilian ninjas like Shuuji often found themselves at the bottom of the pecking order, relying on scraps.

'The Hokage faction, at least, recruits promising civilians occasionally,' Aizen thought, his sharp mind already calculating. 'But the old ninja clans? They're impenetrable fortresses of privilege.'

This disparity wasn't new to him. The original owner of Aizen's body had gone out of his way to defend Shuuji from Sarutobi clan bullies, an act that had underscored the deeply entrenched divides in Konoha's society.

'For civilian ninjas,' Aizen mused silently, 'success is a steep climb, and few ever reach the summit.'

Aizen turned his head and regarded Kitagawa Shuji with a calm expression. "What about your friends? Why aren't they here with you?" he asked.

Kitagawa sighed heavily. "They're all on missions—important ones that can't spare even a single person. That's how it always is for people like us," he replied, his tone carrying a mix of frustration and resignation.

Aizen silently observed him, reflecting on how civilian-born ninjas often bore the brunt of the most grueling and perilous tasks while receiving the least in terms of resources and recognition. It was a harsh reality that transcended worlds—a truth Aizen had witnessed in both his past life and his current one.

Kitagawa quickly forced a smile, evidently unwilling to dwell on such a heavy topic. "But enough about that. Let's talk about you!" His tone turned sheepish as he continued, "I've always wanted to thank you, Aizen, for everything you did for me back then. I was too scared to say it before, but I'm sorry for the trouble I caused you. And… thank you."

Aizen regarded him with quiet surprise, his mind momentarily drifting to the memories of the original owner's life—how fiercely he had defended Kitagawa, even at great personal cost. Still, for Aizen himself, those events were distant echoes.

"It's fine," Aizen said simply, his tone sincere. "What happened back then… I've long since forgotten. There's no need to apologize."

Kitagawa, however, seemed deeply moved by the statement. "Thank you, Aizen! I knew you'd say that," he said, his voice filled with gratitude, as if Aizen's words had confirmed everything he believed about his old friend.

Aizen felt a faint smile tug at his lips, though it was tinged with exasperation. Kitagawa's earnestness was disarming, leaving little room for Aizen's usual calculated demeanor. This unrelenting honesty reminded Aizen of the best—and perhaps most frustrating—qualities of his old friend.

Before Aizen could dismiss him, a sudden thought crossed his mind, one he had shelved long ago. His demeanor shifted as a calm smile appeared on his face. "Shuuji," he began, his voice taking on a lighter tone, "it's been years since we've properly caught up. Why don't we take some time to reminisce? I even have a gift for you."

Kitagawa's face lit up. "Really? Of course!" But his enthusiasm dimmed a little as he added, "Though… I still have to finish recovering from my injury. And there's a mission waiting for me after that."

Aizen's expression remained serene as a soft green glow surrounded his hands. Channeling his chakra with precision, he quickly healed Kitagawa's injury, drawing a gasp of awe from his friend. 

"Tell me the name of your commanding Jōnin," Aizen said as he finished. "I'll ensure your upcoming mission is reassigned so you'll have some free time."

Kitagawa's eyes widened in realization. Of course—Aizen wasn't just his old friend anymore. He was one of Konoha's top commanders. "Right! I almost forgot how influential you've become," Kitagawa said, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

"Come on," Aizen said, motioning for him to follow.

As they walked, Aizen engaged Kitagawa in easy conversation, asking about his life and reminiscing about their shared past. Kitagawa, ever earnest and unpretentious, responded with enthusiasm, speaking freely as though the years between them had vanished.

After some time, Aizen paused, reaching into his robes. "Shuuji," he said, holding out a small red pill contained within a vial. "This is my gift to you."