You may be scorned and outcasted by your so-called friends and family, as to the sheep of society only freaks could possibly find pleasure in such extremes. Pay them little heed. Through the way of Jashin you will come to understand that which makes you human, and you will come to know all facets of life. The limits of your body and mind will be tested and surpassed, as will those new found boundaries in an endless cycle of personal betterment. Baptize yourself in suffering, broken and shattered, and be reforged. Embrace the agony, savor every scream of your nerves, and be truly free."

—Excerpt from the Six Pillars of Jashin.

Prologue: Rat in the Night

Minato was not normally one to admire the outdoors. It was in his nature to always be moving from one spot to the next, too many things to do, too many lives weighing on his mind. Here, however, in his son's compound, it was like a mini-paradise, so picturesque that even a leader of ninja like him couldn't overlook its serene beauty. Eden was what Naruto called the area, named after some ancient fable's mythical paradise that had long been forgotten by most.

There was a stillness here that relaxed him. All around him, white cherry blossoms fell like lazy snowflakes in gentle yet pronounced winds. Those falling petals were the only indication of time, sluggish as it was, slowly drifting on air currents, fluttering around aimlessly. All around him was pure green grass with patches of white petals and flecks of vibrant pink and purple flowers blooming like eyes peeking through a bush. The trees were dark, with bony branches sagging with excess blossoms.

He looked so out of place here, his bright hair and white cloak like a blotch of ugly color against a masterpiece landscape. Ino and Naruto obviously spent great amounts of time tending to the land's flora; gardening had always been a hobby of theirs, something the two of them had in common before their first meeting.

Minato's time in the paradise forest was all spent in comfortable silence, simply taking in Eden's beauty. Animals were few and far between, and the incessant droning of insects was mercifully sparse. All that was left was the gentle hum of the wind, the slightest cracking of twigs, and the crunching of grass and pebbles. Even his thoughts seemed more muted than normal. It was no wonder Naruto picked this plot of land to build their home on, even if it was in some segregated spot at the very edge of the village. He and his mom—especially his mom—would have preferred something closer to the central village, but even she had been blown away by the scenery.

Eventually, he came across a gate. Carved stone beings connected the moss-covered brick walls to the large, arching metal gates, inscribed with ancient runes, symbols, and hieroglyphs of many languages and cultures. One was a man with goat legs and a chiseled torso crisscrossed with scars and grievous battle wounds; he played a pan's flute peacefully. The other was a fair, nude woman to the waist; a torso like a spider weaving a web took up the rest of the base. Both were twice as tall as men and had only faded patches of color. However old these things were, the splendor was still there.

Naruto had strange interests, especially in the more occult stuff. Minato had little interest in mythology personally; his wife and their son certainly did, however. He stopped at the algae-coated stone. Metal was fused into a flat, square surface at eye level, just big enough to place his hand, splayed flat. For a brief second, chakra like fire licked at his fingertips.

The gate allowed his passage and opened itself wide with the creaking sound of solid metal. He passed through.

There was a convenience that he missed in his son's childhood, back when he had been marked with his teleportation formula. Minato could appear at any time or place to his son, no matter the distance. It was mainly for protective purposes, but it did have fringe benefits as well. Of course, when he was a teenager, he would've happily accepted his son's request to remove it, but Naruto had broken it himself, shocking everyone who found out. The seals for Flying Raijin were complex formulas inscribed in ink; without knowing how to perform the jutsu, Naruto had still reverse-engineered it so thoroughly that, when it broke, his father had not been alerted of the lost connection.

A part of him was filled with pride at his son's accomplishment. Another part felt a twinge of anxiety. It was the fact that Naruto had done something just like that with this house, but on a much greater scale. Everything within this gate's borders was cut off; Minato could not teleport in or out, and all summonings, from weapons to ninja hounds, were useless as well. It was like this whole space was separated from the rest of the world. Minato had questioned his son as to why he had deployed countermeasures to a jutsu only his father could use and how he accomplished it, but lax vagueries were all he ever got.

A creek split a chunk of land, a gentle stream flowing downhill, spidering off into tiny webs of thin water. The estate was halfway to the horizon, a traditional-styled building several stories tall, square, and wide, capped by an oversized roof with curved edges.

The Kage caught movement. If you followed the stream of water, it bypassed the house and dipped down. Follow the slope past the other end of the brick wall, and it feeds into another creek, big enough to mistake for a river. It was there, past an open gate, towards the horizon, that his keen eyes saw the slight motion of two bodies swinging on a hammock.

He pushed towards them. The atmosphere of this place was so nice that he decided to enjoy the leisurely walk without haste, taking advantage of this overcast afternoon as much as he could. He really needed to visit more often. Just then, he noticed something: a smell, the savory taste of marinated meat roasting over a fire. It was only when the wind blew hard that he noticed. Dinner was going to be delicious.

When Minato began walking on the sand, he eyed the crystal waters enviously. From where he stood, all he could see were rocks and stones breaking the surface, but he knew from experience that life teemed underneath—a great spot for fishing. You would never know by just looking at it from above. The gentle song of the waves was enough to put most to sleep.

Naruto and Ino were tangled together on a wide hammock tied to a wide metal stand. A wild mess of blond strands buried itself into the woman's chest like a pillow. One hand gently stroked and curled the hair around her fingers in idle affection, while the other held up a splayed paperback, which she read aloud softly. There was a band of gold and bronze on her ring finger.

The words stopped, and Ino's head turned in his direction. She seemed curious more than surprised, but then she had probably known of his arrival for a long time now. Even by Yamanaka clan standards, Ino's sensory skills were by far the keenest he'd ever seen; no doubt she had been aware of his presence the second he stepped past the gate, possibly even before then.

"How's it going, lovebirds?" Ino seemed happy in his presence. Her husband didn't move. "You know, I really am jealous of this place you guys have. If only I had the time," Minato added with a slight, dry chuckle.

"You say that like you don't have an open invitation, Lord Hokage." Ino placed the book's open page on her thigh. "Is this visit for fun or something else?"

"A bit of both, really." Minato placed a hand on his hip. "And what have I told you about calling me that?" He spoke with a soft smile. She really should be on a first-name basis with him by now; even if their marriage was just a year old, the two had been dating for about four years before that.

"Sorry, old habits." Ino's fingers kept combing through her husband's blond hair. "Is something going on?"

Blue eyes locked on the man lounging in the hammock. He sticks his hands into the pockets of his coat. "Our daimyo has put in a request for a job, and he wants my son to do it."

Finally, his head lifted from Ino's chest. The quality of the air changed slightly; it was heavier and carried something sweet and musky with every breath. Naruto turned his eyes toward him. When contact was first made, Minato had to resist a sinking sensation, as if those blue eyes were violent whirlpools trying to drag him under. A civilian would've dropped to the ground, gasping for breath as phantom chains pulled him to the ground. It spoke volumes that Naruto could casually let his chakra seep out like that, and yet Ino was completely unaffected.

Minato smiled. Chakra so thick it could clog the air; he was just like his mother. His son had grown into a fine ninja. "Finally going to say hi to your old man?"

Naruto smiled. "How about we talk over dinner?

…

The fire pit was a thick, circular stone structure that was wide and tall enough to be used as a makeshift dinner table. Three of the six wooden chairs were occupied, with an L-shaped lounge stuffed into a corner. The space was lightly decorated with carved figures and murals, a collection of fishing rods, and folded chairs on one side leaning against a desk with an assortment of drawers. Minato had removed his haori and draped it across his chair. The dying fire at the center of the circle warmed his fair skin, a contrast to the rapidly chilling air.

He was the oldest of three and wore his age like a proud veteran wears his scars; Naruto, meanwhile, was carved with smooth cheeks, a sharp jaw, and a round chin, looking boyish despite being in his early twenties. His blue eyes are deep with levity, optimism, and a mischievous love of spontaneity, whereas Minato was logistical, instinctually observing his surroundings and methodically categorizing them for potential futures. It was common knowledge that Naruto had gotten his father's hair but his mother's face, but he also had more of her personality. His clothing was similarly opposite to his; Naruto's jacket was loose, his dark sweatpants were baggy, and his sandals open-toed; he was about as laid-back in clothing as he was in temperament.

Ino was a soft beauty with a gentle face and fiery soul; bold, outspoken, and candid in most matters; and, according to some men and women of the village, an outright tease. She took great pride in her appearance, flaunting her beauty in clothes dedicated to accentuating her natural gifts. Tonight she wore a purple blouse that was tightly fitted to her breasts, showing off most of her lean-muscled stomach, and a matching skirt ending just before her knees, tight enough to accentuate the flare of her hips. Her thick ponytail, even when tied high, reached down past her waist.

Naruto was walking around them, picking up empty plates, glasses, and used silverware from the other two. The BBQ pork he had smoked for the better part of a day had filled their stomachs with delicious, tender meat literally dripping with flavor. The sides Ino had made were gobbled up just as voraciously.

"I'll be back with the drinks," he called out while walking towards the stairs leading to his porch. This fire pit was built on a square cutout of land, close to the brick wall but not far enough from the house to be inconvenient. The pagoda-style pavilion provided decent shelter against average rainfall.

"I'm surprised you didn't bring Lady—I mean, Kushina—with you." Ino had caught herself in the middle of that. It was hard to not use honorifics when addressing great heroes, even if they were in-laws.

"Yeah, well, she's having a bunch of friends over tonight, so I was going to be scarce anyway," he replied. "I barely have enough energy to match her as is, but when her friends are around and they're drinking? I've been less nervous in war zones." He laughed.

Ino winced, slightly embarrassed. "Yeah, I know my mom pretty well; she's not the most graceful drinker."

"I found that out the hard way. One night, she was so out of it, she thought I was Inoichi and started hitting on me."

"No!" A faint blush colored her pale cheeks. "She did not! I'm so sorry!"

Minato waved it off. "It was years ago, nothing major. We should just count our blessings that my wife was in the kitchen at the time; I can count on one hand the number of people I'm scared of, and an angry Kushina is one of them." He chuckled.

The two enjoyed the warmth of the fire for a few seconds in comfortable silence, letting their delicious meal settle and just enjoying the burning noon sky.

"I bring goodies! Naruto cheered as he made his way up the stairs. He carried a plate of sake and three wooden cups carved into squares as he returned to the gathering. "I bought this from Shushu-ya." Already filled with some of the alcohol, he walked to his dad before Ino, offering them their drinks. While Minato casually grabbed his, Ino nabbed hers in excitement; she loved that restaurant. She had the first cup down before Naruto had taken his seat in between the other two.

Minato took a modest sip from a wooden corner. The masu enhanced the slight fruity sweetness of the chilled sake, leaving behind a warm and almost smoky aftertaste. It was nice. Naruto sat back down and took a sip himself, leaving the plate with the bottle on the rim of the fire pit. "Well," he said, raising his own masu, "care to talk business?"

Blue eyes flicked from the glow of smoldering fire to Naruto. It's time to rip the bandage off. "I got a message from the daimyo's bodyguard. Long and short, his son, Ikkyu, is apparently a big fan of yours and has requested that you be his bodyguard for his trip back to the capital."

Naruto groaned, sinking into his chair. Ino, already about to chug her second drink, stopped. "Wait, to the capital; where is he now?"

"Off in the Land of Hot Water, enjoying the hot springs." Minato placed his now empty masu on the stone with a clack. "Unfortunately, he got into an argument with his usual guy and fired him along with his entire escort. Instead of taking up the offer of their local hidden village, he radioed his dad for Leaf Ninja to escort him—namely, you."

"Ugh," Naruto said, emptying the last of his cup in one long pour. "Now I get to babysit some spoiled brat; how wonderful!"

His dad shrugged. "I know, I talked to the daimyo over the television, but his son requested you, so he's going to get you. Sorry, I tried, but he outranks me."

Naruto was in the middle of pouring himself a second drink, and Ino her third. There was a pregnant pause. For a chunk of seconds, the only sounds were the slight crackle of sticks in a dimming fire. Naruto was systematically running through the possible responses he could have. No matter what he came up with, however, one simple fact could not be ignored: his upcoming weeks were going to be dreadful.

He turned to his wife. There was already a slight pinkness to her fair cheeks. "Ready for hell?"

Ino reached out and gently cradled a whisker-marked cheek, then lightly knocked on his forehead with her knuckles. "Meh, it won't be that bad; we'll have each other. Besides, we might even be able to enjoy the hot springs!"

"Oh, sure, leave me to do the work while you soak in a hot spring; I see your devious idea." He laughed. Ino pitched his nose closed and gave his head several jerks downward, causing groans of protest.

Minato looked at them with more pride than anything else. It was nice seeing his son and his wife banter like this. He rolled his neck, cracking a few joints. "Well, as a thank you for not fighting me on this, I'll pick up that order you put in at the shop."

Being so far out of the way, Naruto and Ino normally only go shopping a few times a month, and when they do, they usually have to cart a wagon back. Among those trips was a monthly order of staples that they got routinely. It was a bit of an inconvenience, but considering the estate they lived on, it was worth it.

"No, please don't worry about that!" Ino tried to decline the offer. A playful flick to her forehead silenced her in retaliation.

Minato got up from his chair, donning his flaming haori. "When I get there, should I ask to add anything to the list?" If his memory is correct, it should be the day after tomorrow.

Naruto thought for a second as he finished his drink. "Uh, I don't think—oh yeah, actually, we do! Think you could add some birth control to the tab? We're running pretty low—ow!"

A wooden cup conked him in the head. A cherry-red Ino stared daggers at him. "What?" He pleaded, rubbing the right side of his head. "You forgot them when we were out. C'mon, he's offering!"

Ino turned in the opposite direction, unable to look them in the eye. Minato would have never thought it possible for Ino to be embarrassed, but it seemed even she had her limits. Naruto leaned over his chair towards his dad, one hand shielding his mouth from a very embarrassed wife. "Add them to the list," he whispered.

Naruto got up, making a point to be as loud as he could while doing so. Ino turned to him as he closed the distance. She squeaked when arms effortlessly picked her off the chair. Some words of protest were given, but they were promptly ignored. One arm went under her legs, securing them along with her skirt, and the other wrapped around her chest. She was positioned as if she were still sitting in her chair.

Naruto sat back down with an even more embarrassed Ino tucked against his chest. "Hey look, I caught me a tomato!" He said it with a hearty laugh—almost a giggle, really. An elbow to his chest didn't stop the laughter. Try as she might, Minato could still see the twitching lip of a suppressed smile; she was enjoying herself. She looked at him and, realizing her restraint wasn't enough, buried her face into the crook of Naruto's elbow.

"What a pair you two are." Minato turned to leave. "I'll be sure to keep that from your mom." Just mentioning that might trigger her mother-bear instincts. Was it weird considering his age and the length of their relationship? Yes. Was she overprotective of her family? Yes. Was anyone brave enough to confront her about it? No.

With the hand not gripped by a humiliated wife, Naruto held up a flask, black porcelain painted with gold, by its thin neck. "Hey, are you sure you don't want to stay the night? C'mon, I've got more where this came from!"

Minato waved him down. "As tempting as the offer is, I've been out long enough. Your mother will be getting mad if I'm out any longer." He walked towards the stairs.

"One more thing, before you go," Naruto stopped him. His voice was serious now, but not authoritative. "What time do we leave?"

Minato looked at the burning sunset. "I'm going to talk to the rest of your team first; see what they're doing." He continued down the wooden steps. "At the very latest, I'd say three days from now."

"Alright, later, dad!"

"Good-bye!"

Once alone again, Naruto and Ino exchanged looks. Ino slid her free hand over to one of his, holding onto him like dear treasure and threading their fingers together. "Sorry if I teased you a bit too hard," he said softly against her ear. "I'm not used to being the teaser so I might have gotten carried away there."

Ino moved his arm around her neck like a scarf. "You're fine, dummy," she mumbled against the fabric. "It's just…weird, talking about that stuff to your parents. I can't wrap my head around it"

The hand around her legs began rubbing her thighs, more as a form of comfort than anything else. "I think your mom and dad may have scarred you." He forced a chuckle. "Oh, the drama."

He looked down at her, their eye contact soft and intimate. Sensing the need for a change of mood, Naruto gently tilted her head back with the arm around her neck. She moved without resistance, her eyes fluttering closed as he leaned in closer. His lips brushed against hers, soft and warm, and she sighed in pleasure. He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth, and she gripped the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

They kissed for a long time, lost in each other's embrace. When they finally pulled away, they were both breathless. Naruto smiled at her, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I think we need a change of topics!" He leaned in, closer to her ear. "And lucky us, it's about time for another ritual, and I do believe it is your turn in the chair."

Ino purred. "That sounds wonderful…"

The night was dark and silent, except for the occasional rustle of leaves or the chirp of a cricket. A lone figure moved stealthily under the clouds, flying while clad in black from head to toe. Below is a creek and pavilion, next to a big mansion modeled after a traditional pagoda. It was a big, three-story house bordering a palace. An extravagant home.

She dropped from the sky, at first careening like a knife thrown down a cliff before slowing, gently making contact with the ceramic tiles collected to form a roof. There were a couple of chimneys, but they were not what she was looking for. Over one of the ridges, she scurried low and quiet, and onto the second layer underneath the roof.

Before her lay the prize: a row of glistening windows. She focused her mind, feeling the delicate tendrils of chakra unfurl from her fingertips, extending like the claws of a silent cat. With a precise swipe, her nails cut into the glass, leaving a mark as smooth as polished ice. With a deft twist of her wrist, the individual cuts seamlessly merged into a perfect circle. The glass yielded, and her arm slid through the opening, reaching down to the stubborn latch. A gentle push, and the window swung open noiselessly. She slipped through the aperture, a fleeting shadow against the moonlit landscape, and closed the window behind her with a whisper.

She found herself in a dark and dusty attic. Old furniture loomed like forgotten giants, their once vibrant colors muted by time and neglect. Boxes, their contents long forgotten, huddled together like orphaned children. Cobwebs, shimmering like ghostly tapestries, draped the corners and rafters, a silent testament to the passage of time. In the center of this forgotten layer of the house, a wooden ladder beckoned, its steps worn smooth by countless journeys. It was attached to the trapdoor, leading to the third floor, she assumed. With cautious steps, she approached the ladder.

With a careful but still forceful push, the door opened, and the ladder slid down mercifully quietly. The old wood creaked under her weight, the slightest whisper, but the adrenalin made it echo in the silence. The hallway was dark and lined with doors on a single side. She gently closed the trapdoor, shutting out the attic's dusty void.

She tiptoed along, footsteps gliding across wooden flooring, heart pounding in her chest. She peered into each room along the wall, her eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of her target.

The first room was a library, its shelves groaning under the weight of countless books, air thick with the smell of old leather. She quickly closed it. The next door led to a dressing room, its vanity piled high with cosmetics and jewelry. The air was tinged with the scent of perfumes, and the walls were adorned with silk gowns and velvet robes. The next room was also unimportant—a bathroom with marble floors. The air was damp, and the scent of lavender hung heavy in the air, suggesting it had been used within the last couple hours.

They were still here, she thought.

She reached the end of the hallway, heart pounding in her chest. Before her stood a large door, its imposing presence casting an even deeper gloom over the already darkened corridor. There was something about it that unnerved her—a sixth sense tingling her spine, telling her to run, to turn away, and not look at whatever was on the other side. Something wrong is happening here, her instincts told her.

She swallowed that down and puffed out her chest in defiance. What nonsense—ridiculous, overacting nerves, that's all it was. With a trembling hand, she reached for the knob. It turned easily, surprisingly so, revealing a sliver of light streaming from beneath the closed door. They were here. She could hear rustling. With a deep breath, she gently pushed the door open, just enough to peer into the room.

A sickle of ice, carved from the coldest regret, stabbed into her heart.

The room was about as lavish as she would expect for this place: a large bed, a large wardrobe, a large desk, a giant rectangle of carpet, and mild, calming candlelight, giving the room a warm, comforting color. But none of that was important.

A mewling woman was tied to a chair with leather, bondage in the form of twisted brambles digging into flawless skin, a satin blindfold over her eyes, and a spherical ball gagging her mouth. Piercings, hooks, and chains dangled from her in a dozen different spots in a dozen different varieties, like she was some fetishistic pin cushion.

A large medallion was hanging from the ceiling, cast from what looked to be something akin to cast iron, yet blacker than tar. It was a simple symbol—a circle with an inverted triangle held within—yet it pulsed with an unseen energy, its presence a tangible force in the room. With each passing moment, it burned itself deeper into her consciousness, leaving an indelible mark on her mind.

Her breath came in shallow gasps, each inhale like shards of ice shredding down her throat and chewing her lungs. The candlelight, once a soothing glow, has now transformed into a blinding haze of neon-bright colors, swirling and distorting before her eyes. A slight shift of weight sent a jarring creak through the floorboards, a dull sound that echoed like a thousand chirping birds screeching in her ears. Her senses had been amplified and heightened to an almost unbearable degree. The fabric of her clothes felt like a thousand tiny knives scraping against her skin, each movement a symphony of sharp sensations. The world around her had become a cacophony of overwhelming stimuli, a sensory overload that threatened to consume her.

This only lasted for two seconds before the shock forced her eyes closed, and the spell was broken. Her vision was tightly sealed, but that damned symbol was still there, more clear and tangible than any memory.

Inside the room, Naruto, dressed only in loose sweatpants, heard the scampering feet of a running intruder and the breaking of glass. He cursed under his breath. He always got too absorbed in their rituals—he didn't even notice a damn rat running through his barrier. Ino moaned, and he snapped back to her. He cradled her cheeks and brought their foreheads close.

"Don't worry, my love," he whispered to her. "Just a momentary distraction. Your prayers are a beautiful thing. Our Lord will be savoring them almost as much as I am."

Ino took comfort in that. Hearing him was her anchor within a maelstrom of painful ecstasy, her one link to humanity while letting the spiritual communion take place. She hoped that, with their next ritual, she could gift this same pleasure to him.

At that same second, up on the roof, Naruto was there as well, suddenly and without buildup.

Naruto specialized in only a few types of jutsu, one of which was clones, but they weren't really clones anymore. Naruto had honed this craft to an extreme, refining the Shadow Clone technique to a point where it was a completely different jutsu; he made sure most people didn't know that. Shadow Clones were copies of an original, but now it is more accurate to say Naruto's existence is no longer limited to being a 'one' or 'zero'.

With practiced agility, he moved across his rooftop, his eyes scanning the surrounding grounds for any signs of the intruder. His senses were on high alert; every rustle of leaves and every creak of the roof shingles sent a jolt of adrenaline through his veins. His movements were fluid and silent, a testament to his years of training. He descended from the roof, his feet barely making a sound as they touched the soft earth.

He reached the creek, its waters gurgling softly in the moonlight. He paused, listening intently, his ears straining to catch any sound of movement. He swiveled from side to side, his eyes scaling up the sides of his home, the nearby grounds, and down to the creek for the intruder. Then, in a last-ditch effort, he looked to the sky just in time to see a figure fly into the clouds.

"Damn rat!" He sneered. This was going to bite him later; he just knew it, but with how vulnerable she was right now, both mentally and physically, Ino took priority.

A second later, his existence was reduced back to one, and the Naruto at the creek was gone as if never there.

(End of Prologue)

Author's Notes: Most of this chapter is repurposed from a story I deleted. For multiple reasons I just lost interest in it, so I merged it with a different story idea that I've had on the back burner for, like, three years. Jashin is such an interesting idea to me, but the show never did anything interesting with it, not even in the light novels. I was reading the Hellbound Heart (the book Hellraiser is based off of) and I just had this idea of modeling Jashin off of the Cenobites, but mixing it with the more spiritual elements of Kushel from Kushel's Dart. It sounded like an interesting experiment to me, to see if I can balance those two polar opposite extremes.

I'm curious to see the response to this, and whether or not it will make into my regular rotation.