Building up Interest
Kakuzu always thought religion was a scam.
Really, all the money you could make from selling bibles, holy objects and things you claim to be holy.
Only problem was that he wasn't such a great fan about the whole doing-good-unto-others part of religion – it was the least important part anyway.
He cried himself to sleep the day he learned about the Church of the Holy Do Gooders's generous forty million ryo donation to some orphanage. (The orphans, with tears of joy in their eyes, apparently also asked for the Church's continued love and kindness, the ungrateful bastards.)
At the moment, he was a solo bounty hunter. It was considered a profitable if inconsistent trade. Kakuzu made it consistent. He also made it incredibly profitable. However, he didn't even earn a fraction of what the Church of Small Cute Animals made selling Holy Postcards or some shit like that.
People were free to believe what they want, sure. Was he one to question someone's beliefs? As long as they weren't stupid beliefs like Taking Your Time or Chewing with Your Mouth Open or Being Disrespectful or Wasting Kakuzu's Time beliefs, he was fine with most.
He hated how religious associations were rolling in dough.
Of course, if he made his own religion…
I mean it couldn't be that hard could it? Religions took time to build up, but didn't he have all the time in the world?
It was just like interest.
He was going to be around the material world for some time and all the money he put in the bank would be gathering up interest. A lot of it.
That was what a religion was like. He would make one and then wait for the money to come rolling in as time passed.
Kakuzu, he thought. You are a genius.
But he knew that already.
So about four years later, the Jashinist religion was in full swing. And wasn't it beautiful?
Not only was he earning a shitload of money from selling Holy washamacallits, but by his bright idea of making the scriptures about death and destruction, he was able to cash in some bounties that any Jashinist might have killed.
Really, it was like a path of dead bodies! A path of money laden dead bodies!
He was made!
And so, the next few years were filled with laughs and giggles. Kakuzu was so rich that he bought another pair of pants because his old one kept falling down due to having too much money in the pockets.
He was rich. Really filthy rich.
Rich enough to not spend money on anything because he would rather swim in a bathtub filled to the brim with ryo than pay his bills.
But a religion of death and destruction does not last long, and shinobi eventually managed to eradicate most of the Jashin cult members.
Kakuzu mourned his loss. It had been a good run. And whatever happened next would be totally worth it.
It turned out that "whatever happened next" was about sixty years later. It was also not worth it.
Kakuzu had long stopped doing solo bounty hunting and joined the Akatsuki.
He learned that there were a few survivors left of the Jashin cult, who had been recruiting new members, when one of the newer recruits became his seventh partner.
"Oi, Kakuzu! Kakuzu! What are you fucking deaf or something? Seriously, has old age made you senile and turned your brain into shit or something? Kakuzu! Yeah, real fucking mature ignoring me like that! Bastard!"
Shut up. Kakuzu thought.
"And Jashin is the greatest fucking God ever! I mean if other Gods existed, which they don't because it would be blasphemous and shit seriously, He would totally screw them over. He's just that fucking awesome. You see what I mean Kakuzu? If you were a Jashinist, maybe you'd stop sucking so much. I mean if you just fucking let me save your soul you can see how awesome Jashinism is, and you can like seriously leave behind your fucking money because you know you are an old bitter miser (and asshole) right and so going to fucking burn in hell for eternity with pitchforks being shoved up your ass and some other shit like that," Hidan paused as he contemplated that image. "And you'll probably be crying like a bitch too."
He never shut ups. He is never going to shut up. Kakuzu thought, pinching the bridge of his nose. God, I hate him.
The next day, Kakuzu woke up to the room smelling of blood. The carpets and curtains, he had recently sent to dry clean were red. They were originally white.
Two hours later, he also learned that Leader was no longer going to subsidize dry cleaning costs because:
"Kakuzu, you have dry cleaned your carpets and curtains seven times over in the past week."
Well, Hidan had stabbed himself fourteen times over in the past seven days, and blood is really fucking hard to get out.
But there was not much to do about it.
After the initial shock of realizing Hidan would not die no matter how many times you stabbed him, or yanked out his still beating heart from his body, or screamed at him to, or asked him to, or begged him to, Kakuzu realized that creating the Jashinist religion was really not worth it.
A/N Hope you enjoyed that, review on your way out?