Chapter 3: Death Plan
"We're making progress in our research on transforming the dead into Shinigami. You'll make an excellent test subject."
Aizen's calm voice echoed through the dimly lit laboratory.
"And don't worry, I'll take good care of your son, Kakashi. He's an exceptional child—he'll make a fine assistant for me one day."
He smiled faintly. "If my prediction is correct, I'll become his adoptive father in three days. Isn't that a wonderful thing?"
'! ! ! !'
The pale blue human figure inside the containment frame trembled violently. Its bloodshot eyes glared at the world around it—at the countless jars, organs, and specimen tanks that filled the room.
Hatake Sakumo's fragmented soul struggled wildly within its prison, staring with hatred at the man who stood calmly before him.
Amidst the rows of instruments and glowing tubes, a man in a white haori moved with the elegance of a calligrapher. His gentle smile reflected the soft light of the lab. Like moonlight, his presence was serene—yet utterly terrifying.
Sensing the burning gaze fixed upon him, Aizen pushed up his glasses with his fingertip, tucking his hands neatly into his sleeves as he approached the frame.
"I must apologize for the rather humble state of my laboratory."
"…"
Aizen Sosuke.
The moment Sakumo's fragmented soul recognized him, his spiritual form flickered violently.
The nightmare he had feared most before his death had come true.
"If you touch him—if you do anything to Kakashi—I'll kill you, Aizen!"
Aizen's smile didn't waver.
"How curious. Do the souls of suicidal ninja always lose their sense of restraint? You're far more emotional now than when you were alive. The contrast is... fascinating."
He adjusted his glasses again, and the cold gleam from the lenses illuminated the furious eyes of the soul before him.
"How remarkable. The study of the soul truly never ceases to amaze. No matter how many times I revisit it, there's always a new path of discovery waiting to be explored."
"I'll kill you!"
"If you continue to exhaust yourself like this, even a spirit body will begin to disintegrate from anger. You're consuming your own willpower, Sakumo-kun. But there's no need to panic—you can't do anything to stop me."
Calmly walking to the side, Aizen began adjusting a series of levers and controls. A mechanical hum rose from the machines surrounding the frame, reverberating through the underground chamber.
"I have no malicious intent. I simply wish to teach your son. He's a prodigy, after all—and I do get lonely working alone."
'You... can't be trusted…'
"Whether you believe me or not changes nothing. Facts remain facts. He will become my adopted son soon, Sakumo-kun. Isn't all of this the result of your suicide?"
Aizen's smile deepened slightly.
"When you chose death, you didn't stop to consider that you were still a father. And now you suddenly remember that? How absurd. Humans only recognize what's truly precious after it's lost."
'I—'
The words caught in Sakumo's throat. For a moment, his soul flickered uncertainly.
Aizen's voice was calm, but his words struck like blades.
A six-year-old boy, whose mother had died giving birth to him. A father branded a traitor who took his own life before the child's eyes.
What kind of future awaited Kakashi now?
Sakumo had thought that dying would prove his honor. That it would cleanse his name.
But what about Kakashi?
He was only a child.
What kind of pain had he left behind for him?
As the realization dawned, the light of confusion and guilt filled Sakumo's eyes.
Aizen, noticing it, pressed a button on the control panel.
A flash of blue lightning burst from the machinery, filling the chamber with crackling energy.
The soul inside the containment frame screamed—a soundless wail that shook the air itself. The pale light flickered wildly, and Sakumo's entire being convulsed within the glowing cage.
Unfazed, Aizen calmly observed the data flowing across the monitors. His expression remained composed, even gentle.
He spoke as though giving a lecture.
"This is a valuable opportunity, Sakumo-kun. You're an intelligent man, so I'll let you understand what's happening."
"There is indeed a link between spiritual transformation, natural energy, and chakra."
He tapped a screen lightly. "Existing purely as a soul isn't impossible. It merely requires the right imprint—a brand that stabilizes existence."
Aizen's tone was almost instructional.
"For that, we need a medium—something that reflects the unique properties of the soul and refracts them. That way, natural energy and spiritual essence can interact. The medium, however, is not chakra as most understand it…"
He smiled faintly, his reflection gleaming in the glass before the writhing soul.
"It's self-will. The purest lubricant between life and death."
"Interesting, isn't it? When self-awareness reaches a certain level, it can actually influence natural energy. Although the chakra drawn from the origin of life is passive, it is the self that truly governs will. My research began with the study of that very self."
Aizen's calm, measured tone echoed in the chamber.
"Our understanding of the world and of ourselves is what makes us human, Sakumo-kun. Action comes from desire, yet even the act of thinking is a form of action. In ancient times, people connected to the power of heaven and earth through meditation alone. Don't you think that's beautiful?"
"…"
Hatake Sakumo's eyes blazed like solid flames. Despite the unbearable pain coursing through his fragmented form, he forced himself to listen, to think.
He was a shinobi—trained to suppress pain and focus.
Even now, torn between fury and agony, he tried to decipher Aizen's words. There was something hidden within them, a truth he didn't yet grasp.
But each time he attempted to concentrate, the pale blue light surrounding him constricted violently, pressing against his essence like molten metal hammered into shape. The electric energy crushed and purified him, stripping away impurities, burning out traces of chakra, and tempering his very soul.
He was like an unfinished blade inside a forge, pounded again and again until nothing impure remained.
In front of Sakumo—his body writhing in the cage of light—Aizen continued to speak, his expression gentle, his voice smooth and even, as though reciting a poem rather than committing torture.
"Kato Dan... the master of the Spiritual Transformation Technique. I was truly saddened when Dan-kun died. You understand, don't you, Sakumo-kun? No one in Konoha had more potential value to my research than him."
A faint gleam passed through Aizen's eyes.
"His meaningless struggle and lack of responsibility led to his death at the hands of incompetents. His dream was inherited by others... but what of it? Kato Dan is still dead. And his lover—well, her talents in medical ninjutsu hardly compensate for his loss."
He walked leisurely around the frame, his hands folded in his sleeves.
"In the end, the human body is nothing but clay—animated by chakra, but clay nonetheless."
He paused, his smile softening.
"But a thousand years ago, it wasn't like this. Natural energy, the soul, spiritualization, chakra... I've finally completed the first step. I've broken the boundary between body and spirit. Now, I must verify my theory."
Aizen pressed another sequence of buttons. The machinery rumbled again, and the light intensified.
"Theory and practice are different, after all. And that's where your help comes in, Sakumo-kun. If you can endure, Kakashi-kun will be proud of you."
His tone softened, almost sympathetic.
"Come now, I'm on your side. Believe it or not, I'm probably the one person in this world who least wants you to vanish."
"Aizen... Sosuke!!!"
"Still not calm? What a pity," Aizen replied mildly, his tone tinged with mock regret. "Your disappearance would mean the failure of an entire path of study. Such a tragedy. You must survive, Sakumo-kun."
The light around the frame blazed brighter. Hatake Sakumo's form began to distort within it, his screams swallowed by the hum of energy.
Unmoved, Aizen observed the process for a moment longer, eyes reflecting the shifting blue glow. Then, after confirming the soul's loss of consciousness, he adjusted the system's parameters, set the timer, and quietly left the lab.
As he stepped into the corridor, his calm footsteps echoed faintly against the metallic floor. But before he could continue, a figure leaning against the wall spoke.
"You still seem to enjoy playing the villain, Aizen."
Aizen stopped. A faint chuckle escaped his lips.
"Oh my, that's quite true. And you're here again... do you have advice for me, perhaps?"
Pushing up his glasses, he looked toward the long-haired man in the shadows—arms crossed, expression serene. The corners of Aizen's mouth curved into a warm smile.
"The soul materialization experiment remains unstable," the man said quietly. "Push too far, and you risk being assimilated by natural energy and chakra. My advice? Rest. You've been overexerting yourself."
"I'm feeling fine," Aizen replied lightly. "I simply came out for some air... and perhaps a book. Surely you don't mind that?"
"Did you sense the arrival of a new soul?"
Aizen's tone grew almost playful. He gazed at the man beside him—the one with moon-white hair, calm yet exuding a presence that hinted at another realm of existence. His smile deepened, becoming more genuine.
"You're still terrible at lying, Dan-kun. Such kindness... Did you sense your former comrade and come to dissuade me?"
"That can't be denied."
The man—Kato Dan, once one of Konoha's most skilled jonin—stood before him, his translucent form still carrying the calm aura of life. Once a master of spiritualization, he had studied life, death, and the soul itself. He should have been dead, body destroyed on the battlefield. And yet here he was, standing in the dim corridor beside Aizen Sosuke.
Looking at the gentle figure beside him, Kato Dan sighed softly, his voice tinged with resignation.
"After all... I've never liked this method."
Like old friends walking home after a long conversation, the two men—one living, one spirit—strolled side by side through the dark corridors of Konoha's hidden depths.
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