A/N: Hello everyone, and welcome to my story. I want to clarify a few things before we get going. Due to the nature of the fic, there are many OCs. Yugakure was a bit of a blank slate, which was both exciting and terrifying for a fanfic writer. I wrote this kinda as a personal challenge to myself. I'm very interested in religions of all kinds: practiced, mythology, and fictional religions. I was struck by the realization that Jashin was the only god named in the Naruto universe. We see other people engaged in vague religious-like activities, but the only example of a truly devout person was Hidan. So because of this I find his character-not a favorite in a traditional sense-but definitely a character that was interesting to me. I challenged myself to write a backstory where Hidan and Jashinism "worked." As always I have the whole draft written, so chapters are being posted as I do final edits.

It's got what you'd expect from a story about Hidan, so though I will strive for class, do not read if you're going to be distressed by killings, also implied self-harm and assisted suicide. There's also a rape, not described but you know it's happening.

My goal is to write something thoughtful, not gory torture porn, so if that's what you're after you're going to be disappointed.


Hidan's mother placed a plate of food in front of him, a healthy portion of rice and vegetables, and they bowed to pray. It was the same prayer as always, some variation of "May all beings everywhere be happy and free, and may the thoughts, words, and actions of my own life contribute in some way to that happiness and to that freedom for all." They prayed to be relieved of their carnal desires, to achieve enlightenment, and to be one with all of nature and all beings. Whatever that meant.

After dinner, Hidan's mother lit the incense and chanted. She was "losing herself to find herself," she told Hidan.

Hidan completed his daily chores: He tended the vegetables and the rice paddies. He milked the goats and collected eggs from the chickens. And for each pint of milk and egg he took, he blessed the animal from which it came. And he blessed the vegetable plants and the rice paddies. And he blessed the caterpillars and the slugs and the rabbits which he constantly drove from the fields because all creatures great and small deserve a happy life. Before bed, he placed milk outside their door for the stray cats.

Hidan said his nightly prayer and laid down on his sleeping mat beside the dogs, listening to his mother and her yoga instructor chanting and praying loudly together, until his thoughts of Nirvana drowned out all else and he fell asleep.

"Religion is everything, Hidan," his mother would remind him daily. "Without religion, all our lives would fall apart. Whatever you do in life, my boy, you must never turn your back on your faith." She reminded him of this most fervently when the heathen shinobi children would run by with their kunai and katana and other instruments of sin, weaving their hand signs and practicing their dark arts. For shinobi were instruments of murder, and murder was the cardinal sin for which the Universe could never forgive, so Hidan's mother said.

So Hidan never got to play with the other children of Yugakare. The only time he left his home was to accompany his mother when she went to try to convert shinobi. These crusades were always unsuccessful, and usually Hidan and his mother went home with fruit and vegetable pulp, or dirt, or in worst cases, dog feces on them, parting gifts from the ignorant masses who wanted nothing to do with a religion that prohibited all forms of violence, even the slaughtering of animals for food. But Hidan's mother was not deterred. Once a week she went on these missions, visiting a different section of Yugakare until she'd made the rounds, and then she started over again. "One day, they'll see," she told Hidan. "They'll see how happy we are, and then they'll want to know why it is that we are so happy, and then they'll see that violence is never the way."

One day, two shinobi men stopped Hidan and his mother on one of these crusades. "Hey," they said. "Are you the woman who preaches nonviolence?"

"I am," she said.

They fell to their knees before her. "Oh, woman, we are heavily burdened with our sins. Please, teach us your ways."

"You are prepared to renounce your shinobi lifestyle and abstain from all violence against all creatures great and small, and surrender your possessions to embrace a life of poverty?" asked Hidan's mother.

"Oh, yes, yes, yes!" said the first man.

"We have done terrible things, madam, most dreadful things," said the second man. "Please, show us your ways!"

She extended her arms. "Come, then, children of the Universe! Prepare to lose yourselves to find yourselves."

She lead the men back to their house, a little shack at the edge of town. "Hidan," she said, "please prepare a meal for our guests."

Hidan gave a slight bow and disappeared into the kitchen. He began chopping vegetables when he heard his mother scream. Still clutching the knife, Hidan peeked around the corner, and the men were holding down his mother, and one had his pants down, and the other was laughing, but Hidan couldn't see anything funny.

"Go away, little boy," said the laughing man. "This is grown-up stuff."

"Yeah, go away and make dinner," said the second. "We're losing ourselves to find ourselves."

They laughed, and his mother screamed, and Hidan didn't understand what was happening, but he knew it was not funny. He looked at the knife in his hands. No, he thought, all life is precious, even the lives of bad people, for there are no bad people, just lost people, that's what his mother always said, but his mother was screaming and crying, and Hidan had a knife, and maybe all life was precious and there were no bad people just lost people but maybe he didn't have to kill, maybe he could just hurt them, maybe the Universe could forgive that, because it would stop the men from doing what they were doing and his mother was screaming and Hidan had a knife.

Hidan rushed forward. He jumped on the man who was on top of his mother and stabbed the knife into his neck. Blood splattered everywhere, covering Hidan's face, and Hidan felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. The second shinobi had thrown a shuriken. Hidan still had his hand on the knife, and he yanked it out of the first man's neck, and started stabbing the second man relentlessly until Hidan felt two strong arms pick him up. He made a move to stab the arm, but another arm stopped him.

"Woah there, buddy," said the man who had picked him up. "Let's see that knife there, alright?"

"DID YOU COME TO HURT MY MOM TOO?!" Hidan cried.

"Shhh," said a woman, prying the knife out of Hidan's hand. Hidan was sobbing hysterically.

"He's hurt, Hiro," said the woman. "Let me heal him. The woman is dead."

"Dead?" Hidan repeated.

"Shhh," said the woman, taking Hidan and laying him on the floor away from the blood. Her hands glowed, and she held one over his wound and removed the shuriken with the other. Then she pressed both her hands onto his wound. "What's your name, little boy?"

"Hidan," Hidan said through tears. "My mother..."

"Shhhh," said the woman. "How old are you, Hidan? You look about just old enough to be an academy student. Are you in the ninja academy?"

"Ninja are instruments of murder, and murder is a cardinal sin for which the Univese cannot forgive. Oh, oh, did I murder that man? I didn't mean to murder anyone, I'm sorry! I must pray. I must pray with my mother. My mother..."

"Shhhh," the woman cooed. "Everything is going to be alright."

"This one's alive," said the shinobi called Hiro, performing a jutsu that wrapped the second villain in chains.

The villain's face was splattered red with blood, and his eyes were bold. "That kid's crazy," he said. "That kid...he just came out of nowhere...and he just...he just...stabbed and stabbed, he didn't even care...he didn't..."

"Shut up!" barked Hiro. "You have no room to talk, you sicko! Geez, violating a religious woman like that, and then..."

"I didn't stab her! It was him! It was the kid!" the villain exclaimed. "We weren't going to kill her, honest, we just..."

"SHUT UP!" Hiro barked, smacking the man unconscious. "Atsumi, take the boy with you while we get this all cleaned up."

"Yes," said Atsumi. She picked up Hidan and carried him past two unconscious bodies, the shinobi and his mother, both with gaping stab wounds seeped in blood.


Atsumi was prettier than Hidan's mother was...had been. Hidan felt dirty for thinking it, but it was true. Atsumi had dark skin and long black hair, and big, kind eyes. Hidan's mother had pale skin and dusty blonde hair and small, grey eyes. Atsumi looked to be about the same age as her, though.

Atsumi's home was larger and nicer than the shack Hidan had grown up in with his mother. It wasn't anywhere close to luxurious, but it was nicer. The walls were decorated with katana and pictures of shinobi. Hidan shut his eyes to the sin, but when he did, he saw his own cardinal sin, his mother's gaping stab wounds seeped in blood, and her screams.

"Where is your father?" asked Atsumi.

"Father?" Hidan asked, as if it was an absurd question. "I don't have one."

"Oh," said Atsumi. "I'm sorry."

She set down a plate of large, doughy dumplings, and he took one greedily. They were filled with a delicious, salty substance. "What vegetable is this?" he asked.

"Vegetable? They're pork buns, dear," said Atsumi. He instantly spat them out and started to cry. "Oh, oh no, I'm sorry, you must be a vegetarian. Here, I'll get something else."

"That animal died, and I ate it, ohhhhh!" Hidan wailed. "I'm damned, damned, damned!"

"Here, here, have some almond cookies," said Atsumi. She put her arm around Hidan, but he pushed her away.

"Murderer!" he cried. "Shinobi are instruments of murder, and murder is the one sin that the Universe cannot forgive! You're damned, I'm damned, we're all damned, damned, damned!" He continued to shake and cry, and Atsumi stood at a loss.

Hiro came through the door. He had lighter skin, short dark hair, and a thin beard that lined his jaw. "Poor kid," he said before placing his katana in a holster by the door.

"What's happening to the rogue?" asked Atsumi.

"He's in the dungeon for now, but he'll surely be executed," said Hiro.

"And me too?" asked Hidan. "I'll do it myself if you'd prefer."

"What's that, kid?" asked Hiro.

"I killed my mother," said Hidan. It was the first time he'd acknowledged it. "So I'm a murderer. I should be executed, like the other man."

"Oh, no," said Hiro. "That was an accident. You won't be punished for that."

"But I'm a murderer," said Hidan.

Atsumi sat down beside him. "We saw the whole thing, dear. Your mom got in the way of your swing, when you slashed at the second man. It wasn't your fault. Your eyes were closed the whole time."

"A tragedy," said Hiro. "A terrible accident."

"But that doesn't matter!" Hidan protested. "A murder is a murder, it doesn't matter how it happened!"

"But dear, dear," Atsumi cooed, putting her arms around him. "It does."