Aaron didn't make his move right away. Instead, he shadowed "Lord Morishita," carefully observing him.
He wasn't a member of the Yamanaka Clan; he couldn't just rip memories straight out of someone's head. If he wanted to impersonate the man convincingly, he needed to study his habits. Was he cold and distant, or approachable? Short-tempered or composed? The little details mattered.
Morishita Kizuki avoided crowded streets and returned home discreetly. Once inside, he changed out of his ANBU uniform and into standard Hidden Grass jonin attire before heading back out.
ANBU operated in the shadows. Unless it was an urgent mission, they rarely appeared in uniform before ordinary ninja or civilians.
"Lord Morishita."
"Mm."
As he walked the streets, Kizuki responded to greetings with a flat nod and an unreadable expression.
He was one of the few elite jonin in the village and among the stronger ones at that. Respect was automatic.
Up ahead, two villagers were talking in low voices.
"I heard the Hidden Stone and Konoha signed a peace treaty. Maybe we'll finally get some quiet around here."
"About time," another replied. "Peace sounds good to me."
Kizuki cast them a cool glance. The two immediately fell silent and moved along.
In the Hidden Grass, everyone knew Morishita Kizuki was a hardliner. He believed only war could give their village a chance to break out of the shadow of the Five Great Nations.
Short-sighted fools, he thought.
"They see a moment of peace but ignore what comes after. As long as the Five Great Nations tower over us, we'll never truly be secure. Even if we want peace, we'll be dragged into conflict."
He continued walking, thoughts simmering.
Grass sat geographically between the Hidden Stone and Konohagakure. Whenever those two giants clashed, Grass became the battlefield unless one side pushed deep into the other's homeland. More often than not, it was Grass soil that burned.
To him, this wasn't sustainable.
If Grass didn't grow stronger strong enough to rival the Five Great Nations, then it would always be forced to pick sides like a pawn on someone else's chessboard.
But how could they surpass nations with superior resources, deeper jutsu libraries, and more abundant talent?
Training alone wouldn't bridge that gap.
Only prolonged war where the major powers exhausted themselves could create an opening.
It was a brutal calculation.
When he reached the ruined eastern district still scarred from the recent war, Kizuki sighed.
Ironically, he hated war more than anyone. But he believed it was the only way to break the cycle.
Suddenly
A spike of danger flared in his senses.
He tried to use the Body Flicker Technique to escape
Pain exploded at the base of his skull.
His vision went dark.
Aaron watched Morishita collapse and gave a faint smile.
He now possessed power comparable to half of Whitebeard in his prime. If he couldn't take down a single jonin in a surprise strike, he might as well quit being a shinobi and apply for a job at Ichiraku Ramen.
He crouched beside the unconscious man.
"How should I handle you…"
He had deliberately held back. Killing him outright would've been easy.
After a moment's thought, he chose not to kill him.
Death was permanent. A sealed captive, on the other hand, was a resource.
Aaron applied a sealing technique to suppress Morishita's chakra and quietly transported him back to his own house. He tossed him into a storage room and began searching the property.
As one of Grass's elite jonin, Morishita lived well. The house was spacious.
Aaron turned it upside down.
Most of the documents weren't relevant to his mission, but they did reveal something useful, Morishita's specialties.
There were scrolls on various kenjutsu styles and several Lightning Release techniques.
So, a swordsman with a Lightning affinity.
That would make impersonation easier.
After committing key details to memory, Aaron donned Morishita's ANBU uniform and headed toward the Hidden Grass ANBU headquarters.
Meanwhile
Kakashi, disguised as an ordinary Grass shinobi, walked cautiously through the village.
His mission was to assess how rank-and-file ninja felt about the recent war.
He chose not to disguise himself as a civilian. From experience, ninja in smaller villages often looked down on non-combatants. If he wanted candid conversations, he needed to blend in as one of them.
After observing for a while, he selected the appearance of an unremarkable young Grass ninja and used the Transformation Jutsu.
Rather than approach anyone directly, he entered a tavern, prime territory for loose tongues.
He ordered a bottle of sake and some small dishes. Officially.
In reality, he discreetly poured most of the alcohol onto the floor beneath the table.
He was still underage.
The tavern buzzed with overlapping voices. Fueled by alcohol and the safety of numbers, people spoke more freely.
One Grass shinobi slammed his cup down excitedly. "About damn time the Hidden Stone and Konoha signed that peace deal. Maybe this mess is finally over."
Another nodded. "Yeah. They fight, and we're the ones who get stuck cleaning up the fallout. It's ridiculous."
From another table, a different ninja slapped the wood hard.
"You're all thinking too small. Peace just keeps us under their boot. If the Five Great Nations tear each other apart long enough, that's our chance to rise."
Several others voiced agreement.
Kakashi watched quietly, thoughtful.
The Hidden Grass wasn't unified.
There were those desperate for peace and those who believed chaos was opportunity.
The real question was: which faction did the village leadership support?
Given that Grass ANBU had been intercepting sensitive intelligence during the war, Kakashi had a strong suspicion of the answer.
---
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