Naruto: Aizen's Shadow in Konoha

From the moment the second phase of the Phantom Fog began, the elite forces of Sand Shinobi, including their vanguard commanders, were quick to notice the abnormality.

Scorch Style wielder Pakura, renowned for her destructive Fire Style techniques, immediately took action. With a sweep of her scorching flames, she cleared the fog within a few hundred meters around their camp, but the effort came at a cost.

BOOM!

The tent serving as their command post was reduced to smoldering debris, the wreckage now lying scattered around them. As the strange mist began to slowly reform, Rasa erupted in anger, slamming his hand on a nearby table.

"What are our reconnaissance and patrol ninjas even doing?!" he bellowed, his face twisted in fury. "How did Konoha Shinobi manage to infiltrate us without raising any alarms? They're useless!"

The tension in his voice carried an edge of disbelief. It was one thing to be caught off-guard by a sophisticated illusion like the Phantom Fog, but the successful infiltration of Konoha operatives into their ranks was another matter entirely—an embarrassment he could not tolerate.

Pakura, standing beside him, narrowed her eyes at his outburst. "Rasa, this isn't the time to point fingers. The priority is neutralizing those Konoha Shinobi and dispelling this infernal mist," she said sharply.

Rasa took a deep breath, forcing himself to regain composure. Yet, his mind remained clouded by thoughts of the person behind the mist—Aizen. The memory of his humiliating defeat at Aizen's hands during the Second Ninja World War burned fresh in his mind, fueling his anger.

Rasa's Resolve

"Pakura, you're right," Rasa muttered, opening his eyes, now filled with cold determination. "We'll split into two teams. Your Scorch Style has a natural advantage against this mist. Take our elite Jōnin and hunt down those intruding Konoha Shinobi."

Pakura nodded solemnly. "Understood."

"And I..." Rasa's voice dripped with venom, "...will lead the sensory unit to track down the bastard behind this fog. When I find him, I'll tear him apart."

Rasa's hatred for Aizen was palpable, his gritted teeth and clenched fists revealing the depth of his resolve. Even as Pakura prepared to respond, the tension in the air thickened.

"Rasa, there's no need to look for me. I'm already here," a smooth, mocking voice interrupted, cutting through the noise.

Every head in the room turned toward the sound. From the shadows stepped Aizen, his signature calm demeanor intact. Draped in a pristine white cloak with black trim, glasses framing his sharp eyes, and his neatly combed hair parting perfectly to one side, he exuded an aura of effortless confidence.

Rasa's eyes widened in recognition, fury instantly boiling to the surface. "Aizen! You bastard, how dare you show yourself in front of me!"

Years had passed since their last encounter, but Aizen's features were eerily unchanged. The sight of his old nemesis only fanned the flames of Rasa's indignation.

"Oh?" Aizen's voice was light, his expression tinged with amusement. "Your entire army is ensnared in my illusion, flailing against shadows as my allies wreak havoc. Why wouldn't I dare to confront you directly?"

As Rasa's mind replayed the chaos that Aizen and his team had sown within the Sand Shinobi ranks, his face turned a furious shade of crimson. The thought of this incident spreading across the ninja world, turning him into the subject of ridicule, fueled his already simmering rage. His hands trembled with anger as he clenched them into fists, glaring at Aizen with murderous intent.

Nearby, Pakura, Sand Shinobi's Scorch Style expert, noticed her commander's humiliation and stepped forward. Her eyes bore into Aizen with sharp determination as she spoke, her voice laced with defiance.

"Aizen! Don't get ahead of yourself! I admit your attack was flawlessly executed, but you're just one man. Against all of us, do you really think you stand a chance?" Pakura's voice echoed with confidence.

At her words, the surrounding Sand Shinobi warriors—nearly sixty strong—shifted their stances, their expressions hardened with resolve. Among them were twenty or thirty Jōnin and Special Jōnin, with even the weakest being an Elite Chūnin. Half of the vanguard's combat power stood assembled, their collective presence an intimidating force.

Yet, Aizen remained unfazed. Instead, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips as his gaze swept over them with casual amusement.

"There are two things wrong with what you just said," Aizen replied, his voice smooth, each word laced with subtle menace. He raised his hand slightly, his expression playful but calculated.

"First, I'm not conceited—I'm confident," he said, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "And second…"

Aizen's sharp gaze locked onto Pakura, his calm demeanor only deepening the unease settling over her. A flicker of doubt crossed her face, and her instincts screamed at her to be on guard.

"Second," Aizen continued, his voice dropping an octave, "Who said it's just me?"

Pakura's eyes widened in alarm just as a blur of movement cut through the air.

Namikaze Minato Enters

"Shuriken Shadow Clone Technique!"

A voice rang out, and before the Sand Shinobi forces could react, dozens of light-blue kunai, each glowing with Wind Style chakra, materialized midair. With a high-pitched whistle, the projectiles exploded outward like a deadly storm of lasers.

"Scatter! Dodge it!" Pakura's voice cut through the chaos, urging her comrades to action.

But even her warning wasn't enough. The assault was swift and relentless. More than a dozen Sand Shinobi who were too slow to react fell, their bodies struck down by the lethal kunai. The survivors barely had time to recover when Namikaze Minato, in a dazzling display of speed, activated his Flying Thunder God Technique.

Golden flashes lit the battlefield as Minato darted between kunai in rapid succession. Each flicker of light heralded another fallen Sand Shinobi. Screams of panic and pain filled the air as half of the elite forces collapsed under the combined assault.

Amid the carnage, Minato's figure appeared beside Aizen, his landing as effortless as the precision of his attacks. He straightened, brushing invisible dust from his sleeves, as if the lives he had just claimed were an afterthought.

Pakura and the surviving Sand Shinobi stared in horror at the bodies of their comrades.