"Come now,
Dance with me,
As the song plays,
Down, Down,
Dance with me,"
-Dance to Forget, TryHardNinja
A principle of Lord Jashin is to give an otherwise pointless death meaning, such as those caused by strife or lack of nutrition. It is His will that we sever these unenlightened souls from their ties to life so that Lord Jashin may forgive them for their ignorance of Him in the Pure Land.
Page fifty-seven, line three.
The words were slanted slightly, the rest of page written in neat lines except for the last paragraph, which was slanted again.
Jashin wanted his followers to kill those who were already dying. It didn't sound much different from being a shinobi. Hidan hadn't killed in the name of a god, but instead for a village that didn't care about him, a Chief that wouldn't listen to him.
What was so different about doing the same thing he'd been doing in the name of a god instead of a Chief?
Hidan pulled a long slip of lettuce out of his bowl and watched it drip broth.
He was getting sick of soup and vegetables. He dropped his chopstick in the soup, broth splashing and dripping down the side of the bowl. He reached out and wordlessly relieved Botan of his bowl.
Botan, chopsticks pausing halfway to his mouth, sighed but didn't move to stop him.
Hidan scraped carrots out into his own bowl, then dumped all his broth and lettuce into Botan's, nearly overflowing it. He didn't give it back.
Botan, glaring at him, had to take it back himself.
"Are you still reading up on the steps for the sacred ritual?" Kumi asked, like nothing happened.
The Book of Jashin was wedged half under his knee. "Skipped it," he said. He picked up a carrot with his fingers and threw it in his mouth, watching her pause.
Hidan read it, but it was funny watching her smile freeze, her brain recalculate.
"You should have just asked," Botan muttered.
Hidan, eating another carrot, didn't acknowledge him.
Kumi looked down at her bowl. "You haven't had a stomach-ache in a while. That's good," she ventured carefully.
He didn't say anything to that, either. It still did hurt intermittently, but he stopped mentioning it. It would just be repeating the same shit. He could usually ignore it, anyway.
Issey sat in the empty space beside Botan and put his bowl down. He didn't touch it and Hidan felt his stare.
"You want something?" Hidan asked mid-chew.
Issey's hands curled against his poorly threaded pants. "I didn't think you were the type that would turn out like them."
Hidan swallowed. "The fuck does that mean?"
Issey snuck a glance at Botan, then shook his head. He took a breath. "Jashin isn't real."
Kumi dropped her chopsticks, splattering broth. "You shouldn't say that. It's not funny."
Hidan paused.
Issey didn't look at her. "I'm not trying to be. It's just..." he trailed off. "We don't need someone else who follows Master Oda around like a duckling. We need someone to help us run this place."
"You've lost your faith," Botan said, wide-eyed as he stared at Issey.
Issey's fingers curled more.
Hidan leaned forward, elbows on his legs. "It's not, huh? Then why does Oda act like such a crazy bastard?"
"Because he made up Jashin—"
"Issey," Kumi hissed. She looked suddenly pale.
Issey looked at his bowl. "He has to act that way to sell it. But it's all pretend—"
Botan picked up his bowl and abruptly stood. His shoulders were hunched. "I don't know what's wrong with you today, Issey, but I won't listen to-to whatever this is." He walked quickly away and found an empty spot at another table.
"It's not a coincidence that he only recruits kids like us," Issey insisted. "He's good at telling which ones are too stupid to know better, have nowhere to go back to, or nothing else to believe in."
Kumi squeezed her hands together. "You lost your faith," she said. "But you shouldn't try and influence others away from Lord Jashin."
"That's exactly why I came over here," Issey told her, finally looking at her. "Hidan is the first new kid Master Oda brought here since the war started. You're too far gone, but he isn't."
Kumi drew back, her expression hurt.
Hidan's stare burned. "What the hell does that mean?"
Issey looked at him, then quickly away. "Just think about it. Remember that ritual you went to? You've skipped them ever since."
How could he forget the murder room?
"The fuck is your point?"
"She came here with stuff," Issey stressed. "After she died, what do you think happened to it? We went through it. Took what was useful and tossed the rest."
"Enough," Kumi said, and pushed away from the table. Her gaze flashed to Hidan, expecting him to follow, but he didn't. Surprise flashed in her eyes, then disappointment.
She left her bowl behind as she rejoined Botan.
Hidan eyed it, mushrooms and greens drowning in broth. He used to think they were completely batshit. It was fucking weird to think of how he used to see them, because now he knew each step of the ritual.
While He favors the use of one's own blood, a blood-substitute can be used, like red paint, or ink.
A circle drawn around a triangle, each point touching the ring. The sacrifice had to be at the center, the tip of the triangle facing opposite of them. An upside-down triangle had to be drawn on the forehead of the sacrifice by the one performing the ritual.
Hidan remembered the sacrifice Oda brought in, the paint, and something she had with her, something Oda handed off to one of the others. His stomach churned and something about it made him feel uneasy.
She had a fucking backpack. What did happen to it after?
His eyes narrowed.
"Remember when I went out last week?" Issey asked. "I lied when I said I was meeting followers of Jashin. While Master Oda was in Yugakure he heard that a group from the Land of Fire came through looking for asylum but was rejected. Master Oda figured they'd try Shimogakure next, and they'd have to use this road to do it. I pickpocketed them while Sho and Akio distracted them."
Hidan stared at him. He thought that someone like Oda, who'd memorized the guard rotations to slip in and out of Yugakure with ease, could definitely use the gossips in the village to pull off some shit like this.
"If you figured out the truth on your own, Master Oda would've let you in on it. But I don't think you were going to," Issey said, rubbing the back of his head.
"You're just a fucking thief," Hidan accused, an afterthought.
He heard Oda, standing in the doorway, telling them it was time to clean up. He didn't turn his head as conversations around him quieted and bowls were picked up.
Issey looked over but didn't stand.
Kumi lingered at the back of the line of people shuffling into the kitchen, looking back at him until Botan nudged her.
Then they were the only ones left in the room.
Hidan felt, well, he didn't know how he felt. "What was the fucking point?"
Issey lowered his hand and shrugged. "He uses us, and we use him," he answered. "Master Oda lied, but he still found all of us. He gave us a home—"
"This is a fucked up home," Hidan interjected. He ate one of Kumi's mushrooms.
"Kumi and Botan need something to believe in, something to keep them going," Issey insisted. "Master Oda gives that to them."
"And I don't?" Hidan asked, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could stop them.
Stupid fucking mouth.
Issey looked surprised, mouth opening to answer, but Hidan spoke over him, "This still doesn't add up. You're telling me crazy Oda did all this shit just to make sad kids feel better?"
"I'm not the only pickpocket here," he answered after a second, shaking his head. "The refugees that come though always have a lot of ryo on them. What they took from home, I guess. I give what I take to Master Oda, and he uses it to buy supplies if we don't have enough. Or he keeps it."
Crazy Oda was a crook. A fucking con artist.
Hidan crossed his arms. "What the fuck can the crazies like Botan give him?"
Issey looked uncomfortable. "They do anything Master Oda says," he said. "Right now, they do the dishes and clean and stuff. But if Master Oda asked them to kill in the name of Jashin, they would. And adults don't like to hurt kids."
Hidan's eyes widened. He hadn't thought of it since they met, but Oda was still a missing-nin. The crazy bastard wasn't in any bingo book he knew of, but that didn't mean he wasn't in one somewhere.
And if he was, how the hell would Oda know he wasn't in others?
It wasn't like bingo books were easy to come by for missing-nin.
Hidan was twelve when he killed two Konohagakure-nin. And he'd only done it because one of them was a soft bitch, and the other was so torn up about murdering his team that he emptied his stomach. And he hadn't used fanatical belief to do it.
"Shit," he said. Crazy Oda was using the poor bastards as meat shields.
"Yeah..." Issey trailed off. "Sho tried to tell them the truth once, but they won't listen. You saw what happened when I brought it up."
Hidan ate another mushroom. "So, what? You're fine with the brainwashing as long as you get fed?"
Issey stared down at his untouched bowl. "Master Oda's never used them like that. No one's ever come looking for him. If it makes them happy, what's the harm?"
"But someone could," Hidan pointed out.
"I told you the truth so you can help us, not for this," Issey said.
Kumi's broth was cold. "What the hell is the point of the rituals?"
Issey sighed, "So Master Oda can show them what happens if you don't believe enough in Jashin."
"No, but, the sacrifices. Who the fuck are they?"
"I don't know," Issey said, shrugging. "I don't know how he convinces them to it. The same way he tricked all of us, probably."
Hidan paused at that because crazy Oda's Jashin act didn't work on him. It was the free food that made him follow that bastard.
He squeezed his shirt over his stomach. He shouldn't have eaten so many carrots. But even that motion felt familiar, something he'd done too many times.
It reminded him of something. A thought that kept slipping away. Something he knew.
"So, yeah," Issey said awkwardly. "Now you know how we get our supplies and stuff, and we could use your help. It's a lot harder to pickpocket people now. They're paranoid, more careful. But you used to be a shinobi, right?"
Hidan scoffed. "Oh, that's what you wanted," he said. He pushed himself up and picked up the Book of Jashin. "Thanks for the truth and go fuck yourself."
He raised a hand in a wave as he walked away.
真実
It still didn't make any fucking sense.
Hidan was on his back on his futon, an arm over his eyes.
He understood the con.
Make a bunch of gullible kids believe in a made-up god because devotion was stronger than trust. If a hunter-nin did come after crazy Oda, he'd have his own army. Or at least enough fodder to be a decent distraction.
Issey and Sho and whoever-the-fuck probably stole food from the village, too.
It was what the crazy bastard did to make it seem real that didn't add up.
Of course civilians who barely, if at all, graduated from the Academy wouldn't think about how much all this shit would cost.
Hidan reached out blindly, feeling the hard leather of the Book of Jashin under his fingers, on the floor next to him.
The bastard squatted in an abandoned inn but made enough ryo to make ten copies of the Book of Jashin? Using paper and leather?
Hidan quietly scoffed.
No, the books came from somewhere real.
His fists clenched. If they didn't, if Issey wasn't bullshitting him, what was he going to do?
How long was he going to stay here eating vegetable soup and doing jack shit? How long was he going to keep avoiding Yugakure?
Those assholes probably moved someone into his house already.
Hidan ground his teeth. He wasn't alone here. He had friends. People he liked to be around, at least.
If you left now they wouldn't fucking care.
Hidan inhaled slowly, hating how shaky it sounded.
If you didn't come around on Jashin Botan and Kumi would've left you.
He uncovered his eyes and picked up the Book of Jashin. He shifted closer to the window, holding it above himself, distracting himself with it. He squinted at a page in the dim light.
For an unwavering belief and a devotion to His rituals, Jashin rewards those most faithful with immortality.
Page sixty, line twenty-seven.
A cloud passed in front of the moon and no matter how hard he squinted, he couldn't make out the words. Hidan listened to the quiet sounds of breathing around him, their shifting, murmuring, and thought about how alone he felt.
Schiip. Thumb pressing too hard against the page, it tore halfway before he jerked his hand back.
"Fuck," he whispered.
Sitting up, he waited for the light to come back, impatiently tapping a finger against his knee.
He squinted down at the tear. "Shit," he whispered.
The tear started from the top of the page and zig-zagged down to the middle, cutting a paragraph in half. Frowning, Hidan slowly, carefully tried to realign the page so he could finish reading it.
And then he paused. He stared at a neatly written line, pushed up against a slanted one. The handwriting was similar, so similar that he'd written off the minor style differences. But with them next to each other like this, the changes blared out at him.
The second kanji for 'ritual' (式) was overly curved, the 't' shape bigger than the first character (儀), while the next sentence, neatly written, also mentioned the ritual. But the kanji was the same size, uniform throughout.
His eyes drifted down over the rest of the page. Most of it was the neat handwriting, but now that he was looking for it, the small sections of slanted handwriting stood out, out of place with the rest.
Almost without thought, he flipped the book to the preface, forgetting the torn page as he scanned crazy Oda's handwriting. It was fully cursive, unlike the slanted sections, which tried to mimic the neat style, but when he compared them like this—
"What the fuck," he whispered.
That shit about only killing the already-dying and Jashin wanting a death to be meaningful, that was the shitty priest.
"What the fuck," Hidan said again. Someone in the middle of the room shifted, pulling a pillow over their head.
"Do you ever sleep?" Botan asked.
Ignoring him, Hidan ran his fingers over the square the preface was on. He hadn't thought much on how it looked different to the rest of the old-looking pages.
Narrowing his eyes, Hidan scratched at the corners until it peeled off, ignoring the muttering around him. There were words on the back of the ripped-off pieces from some other book or another copy of the Book of Jashin, defaced and reused for this.
He brushed off the torn scraps and stared down at the neatly written words on the back of the front cover. His eyes widened a second time.
Preface: Jashin was once a man like you and me. He lived in a time of unimaginable power predating the Warring States Era, with the likes of the Sage of Six Paths. He was a man born for war. He thrived in it. He sowed so much death and despair that he impressed the gods. Upon his death, he was remade into a god of calamity.
.
.
.
When Kumi woke him in the morning, the Book of Jashin was over his face.
He was surrounded by ripped paper, torn out passage after passage of slanted handwriting.
Kumi didn't question the mess, nervous, unsure of where he stood. But everyone stared at him when he walked into the kitchen for breakfast.
で
When I was born, Jashin named me Mieko.
It was written on the inside of the back cover, hidden under the square of a page from another book.
Hidan stood against a wall of the ceremony room, between Botan and Kumi. He watched crazy Oda paint an upside-down triangle on a merchant's forehead. A round basket with a lid was abandoned on the floor at the back of the room.
He watched curiously, like a ninja watching a little kid wield a kunai.
Hidan felt like a spectator, like someone who didn't belong. He believed in Jashin but didn't believe in any of the shit coming from crazy Oda's mouth.
He wasn't like Issey and whoever, who didn't believe in either the priest or Jashin.
"I'm ready," the merchant murmured, staring up at crazy Oda. Paint dripped down his nose. He didn't seem to notice.
Fucking paint.
Crazy Oda nodded once and pulled a kunai out from under his ceremonial robe.
Botan held his breath. Kumi smiled, hopeful. Issey looked bored, eyes drifting up to the ceiling, then to the basket in the back.
This shit was an insult to Jashin. A mockery.
Crazy Oda knelt, patted the merchant once on the shoulder, and plunged the kunai deep into his chest. The merchant's wide smile faded, replaced by shock as he stared down, shaking hands lifting to his chest.
He choked as crazy Oda pulled the kunai back out and stepped away, watching.
The merchant went wide-eyed as he tried uselessly to stop the bleeding and Botan quietly sighed.
Hidan was the only one in the room to catch the brief flash of confusion as the merchant looked up at crazy Oda, a second before he fell forward and died. And he knew he was the only one who saw it, because no one else reacted.
Crazy Oda shook his head in disappointment and wiped the kunai off on a folded white cloth. A low drone in Hidan's ears drowned out Oda's speech about the merchant's lack of faith, because if Issey was right and crazy Oda just tricked the poor bastard, why the hell did the merchant just look at him like he'd never seen him before?
The drone became louder and louder until it was roaring in his head.
Hidan stared at the body. He was missing something, a link in a chain that wouldn't connect no matter how hard he wanted it to.
"Hey, you okay?" Kumi asked quietly.
And he realized how hard he was breathing, his chest oddly tight, his body warning him, telling him something was deeply wrong.
But what? What the fuck was it?
Crazy Oda turned to look at him along with everyone else, and Hidan felt nauseous. And instead of the link snapping into place, the chains shattered.
It was easy to think suddenly. It was fucking obvious what was wrong with him.
Suisai.
Crazy Oda's stare hardened and Hidan threw up because his stomach clenched.
"Oh, you piece of shit," he whispered, and Kumi froze, hand half-raised as if to pat his back or touch his shoulder.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and Kumi took a step back, away from the burn of his glare. From the very beginning, the bitch priest had been using genjutsu on him.
Crazy Oda's eyebrows raised slightly, briefly, before his expression settled back into his passive act.
Hidan laughed, unsettling everyone around him, because that's how crazy Oda got people to participate in this fake ass ritual, why Botan and Kumi fell so deeply into this shit, why he followed crazy Oda at all.
How much of the last year and a half was what he wanted? How much was crazy Oda's influence?
Hidan pointed at him. "I'm going to kill you, you bastard," he promised.
But not now. Not yet. He wasn't ready yet.
嘘
Botan stopped sitting with him and Kumi.
Crazy Oda tried to twist what he said at the ritual, encouraging him to do so if it was his time and Lord Jashin desired it, but his outburst still left most of the fanatics uneasy, regardless.
Not that he cared.
Hidan sat with his back against the wall, under his window, the Book of Jashin open on the floor next to him. He flipped a page. Each was damaged in some way, tiny holes in the middle cutting out one or two words at a time, or a patchwork of taped together sections.
It had been hard to make sense out of it after crazy Oda's butchering, but he thought he finally had it.
Jashin wanted him to perform rituals, sure, but mostly, the god of calamity just wanted him to kill.
Why the hell did crazy Oda make it sound so complicated?
"Are you sure you don't want to use my book?" Kumi asked. She knelt beside him, eyeing his book judgmentally. Her own was open on her knees.
Hidan glanced at her book, finger tapping a page as he considered telling her the truth. Reading that wouldn't bring her any closer to Jashin. But still he hesitated. Because he liked her. Because not being avoided by everyone for once was kind of nice.
Kumi stared at him for a moment, conflicted, and then she pushed herself up, slowly leaned closer to him, and closed her eyes.
Hidan stared at her for a second, then it clicked. She wanted him to kiss her. It threw him off, that someone wanted to kiss him, to be more with someone like him.
A demon, they called him. Zabuza, they whispered behind his back.
His eyes drifted down to her lips. Fuck, he wanted to. He forced himself to duck away from her, to ignore the shame and embarrassment that made her turn pink when she realized he wasn't going to kiss her, because she needed to know the truth first.
And then they could—
Fucking focus.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I thought—I shouldn't have assumed—"
"You need to know something first," Hidan said, impressed that his voice stayed steady and embarrassed that he was impressed.
Kumi blinked at him. "Oh."
He hesitated again. Just fucking tell her you dipshit.
"Your book isn't right," he blurted out.
Kumi paused. She looked down at her book, then raised an eyebrow at him.
Gods fucking damn it mouth.
"I mean," Hidan scratched the back of his head and despised himself. Why was it so fucking hard to talk to her all of a sudden? "Jashin won't acknowledge your faith if you keep reading that version of the book."
Kumi's eyes widened. "What?"
Hidan pointed at a slanted passage. "Oda wrote that shit, not the First Priestess," he said. "You can tell if you look at the way—"
"Priestess?" Kumi squeaked, drawing away from him.
This-This was what he didn't want. He didn't want her to look at him the same way she looked at Issey. He tried to backtrack. He flipped her book to the preface.
"This is fucking fake," he said, not looking at her. "It's taped on. The real preface is underneath this shit, and it talks about how Jashin isn't the only god out there—"
Kumi drew the book away from him. She looked at him in betrayal, like he was something suddenly alien to her. She pulled up her knees like a physical barrier between them.
And Hidan felt hurt. "I'm telling you the truth," he insisted. "Why the hell would I lie about something like this?"
"I don't know," she said uneasily. "After what you said to Master Oda—I don't know, Hidan. Have you been talking to Issey and his friends again?"
His eyes darted down to the book. He reached for it. "I can show you. It's right fucking there—"
Kumi pushed the book behind herself. He stared at her.
"I know you never liked Master Oda, but you should still respect him," she said. "He's-He's Lord Jashin's sacred priest."
"He isn't," Hidan said, and she clenched her fists. "If you just let me show you—"
She tensed. "You want me to let you deface Lord Jashin's book, like you did to yours. You want me to just accept that Master Oda has been lying to me about everything," she hissed. "I don't care if there is another preface. I'm sure Master Oda can explain why it's there. He and Lord Jashin saved me. I would be dead without them. You couldn't understand."
Hidan leaned back, looking at her. And that was fucking it, wasn't it?
He couldn't understand.
As long as she believed what she did, she was against Jashin. Insulting what he believed in, even. She didn't care. Even if he showed her, even if he shoved that shit in her face, she would still believe in crazy Oda.
She scrambled up, shoulders hunched, clutching the book to her chest. He didn't stop her.
Hidan tilted his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. He fucking hated that that bastard Issey was right.
He was alone again. Well, no, that wasn't right. This time he had a god to fall back on.
A/N: 真実 - Truth, で - In, 嘘 - Lie, 儀式 - Ritual.
Say what you want about FNAF, but the songs that came out of it are bangers.