Bound by Blood

How long had it been since he'd last looked at these hallowed outer walls? It felt like decades, but it was really only a few years ago, when the place was being built hat he had first laid eyes on the place. It brought up memories that, while not forgotten in any way, shape, or form; still came back harder then he had anticipated. The sights, the smells. The touch. The Seikyōkai. While the blade of the jashin who attempted to kill him was faded, the book was burned into his brain. While he was nowhere need the iconoclast as Tamwyn was, the concept of a church who sacrificed other's lives for power never made sense to him. But at the same time, if it wasn't for the Orthodoxy's existence he never would have invented a branch fuinjutsu using his own blood as a catalyst.

'You know you could've asked her to meet somewhere else, like the Raikag-EH?'

Internally, Mort envisioned himself choke holding Id, his control over his mind getting stronger again. While neither needed to breathe in the mindscape, being a creature of instinct Id clawed at his hand, trying to take a breath they didn't need. Eventually he'd let go, but the point was made. He couldn't go back and talk to Shimiko at the Raikage building, just looking at that place was painful on a good day, and today was closer to neutral, which wasn't good enough for what he needed. She was the person closest to Ryuko and was there when Tamwyn...when he...

So he opted to take fear instead of sorrow. He had no plans on converting, and already had countermeasures in case someone decided to use him as repentance. Even though there were rules instated that prevented it, even though logically he knew he'd be safe, the fear was still there. If he was ever going to defeat a god, perhaps even the Necrossiah themselves, he would first need to face a fear he'd been hiding from all these years. A fear that had he had experienced over and over again. A fear not of death, but of what he could've become if he had just one bad day too many.

He'd open the doors. There was a knot in his gut. He took a deep breath as he kept opening them. The knot tightened. He'd hold the pendant around his neck, the knot loosening slightly. The Spiritually Dead Seraph stepped inside, not sure what he was expecting to see, but prepared to defend himself if need be.

When Mort entered St. Memori's Cathedral, he'd be greeted with a fairly empty sanctuary. Services had ended long ago and now all that remained were the various acolytes and Sacristans that tended to the Church's maintenance. A few heads turned towards the blonde shinobi but none accosted him. Even under Mora's leadership, non-believers were not molested for entering but under the tutelage of the Twins the institution was even more accommodating. Instead of glares or murderous gazes, he'd receive warm smiles or the occasional nod.

Most of the Sacristans ignored him and continued attending to their business. They silently read from the Seikyōkai, thumbed rosary beads in prayer, or knelt before the various idols that graced the Church's inner sanctum. If he were particularly observant, Mort would notice that some of the priests' hands were covered in blood. A sacrifice had been celebrated recently. Prior to the war, there had been a shortage of meat, but where there was scarcity, Jashin provided for his faithful. The war had made monsters of men and per the doctrine of Lady Superior Yui, those monsters were to be butchered for Jashin. POWs were almost always off-limits and unavailable to the Church for sacrifice. Those who committed war crimes such as rape or the murder of civilians, however, were quickly snatched from the military establishment and brought into the city to be made an example of. Whether they be from Kumo's side or the enemy's, there was no mercy for convicted war criminals.

Eventually, a Sacristan garbed in all white with a zucchetto adorning his head would greet the Kurama. He was young and had a friendly face. The man's blue eyes were inviting and his neat hair gave the appearance of one who had been a librarian or a doctor prior to his devotion to Jashin. The Sacristan smiled and spoke to Mort in a quiet tone.

"Welcome to the Orthodox Church of Jashin, I am Sacristan Gosei. Is there anything I can help you with?"

He didn't give his usual pitch. He could tell right away that this ninja was here on business. Any self-respecting Sacristan could differentiate an interloper, an potential convert, or someone who was looking for a specific worshipper.

Upon first viewing the inside of the Cathedral, a small sense of relief washed over Mort. The place was...normal, or at least as close to normal as one could get considering the religion's practices and beliefs. A few people he recognized, though only in the blurry way one recalled a passerby when shopping and then saw their face later when dreaming. In a small way he was thankful that none of them were anyone he truly recognized though, he didn't want to deal with the jarring knowledge that someone he thought he knew might be a believer when he didn't know before hand, at least not yet, not here. Instead, he'd do his best to appreciate the décor, like the statues, murals, and other churchy things.

He'd give a small nod or smile to those who gave one to him, not wanting to interrupt their worship even with his prejudice. Once again he had to remind himself that the humans here were people and loyal to Kumo. Even though he wasn't the most observant, he did know the sight of blood, it's sanguine color something he was intimal familiar with, only recently by choice. While they had stopped, he could feel the phantom hole Id had bored into their chest over many nights. Those were rough times, him assuming Id was a Jashinist and only making the problem worse, the self-harm only stopping after...after...after Ryuko's...

He was Strong. He was a Warrior. He was Kurama. He would not let this get to him right now. He couldn't show weakness here, not in this place. He'd grip the charm harder. She wasn't dead yet, she couldn't be. Rafaela just needed more time, that's all. If he couldn't handle this, how would he be able to conquer Rhan's decree?

By the time the Sacristan had come over he had mentally recovered, though signs of turmoil showed in the small illusion that surrounded him in the form of his normally dark purple hair being blonde. By now he was used to the illusions, so it didn't register as he replied, silently thankful he didn't need to say 'Glory and Grace' or some other religious thing he didn't believe in. "Thank you Sacristan Gosei. I am here to meet with the current Defender of Faith over several important matters. While I know some rules and traditions of the Orthodoxy, I don't feel comfortable navigating this place to locate her without assistance as I wouldn't want to interrupt any Rituals that may be going on given my spiritual state." He didn't want to admit that he didn't know the layout of the Cathedral, having forgotten to ask for a floor plan in case he needed to quickly get out without destroying some walls. It also felt weird being this formal, but he wanted to at least leave a decent impression on the Sacristan. At the very least it's distance himself as a future target...probably.

Mort was here to speak with Shimiko thereby placing him in the third category of visitor. Anyone with the guts to look for Shimiko in this den of worship had to be a relatively high ranking person in the military or just plain stupid. By the look of him this stranger appeared to be the former. Sacristan Gosei nodded and gestured to a nearby pew.

"Your sense of piety is appreciated. Saint Shimiko is currently in post-sacrifice prayer. I cannot disturb her for the time being but once she is finished, I will let her know she has a visitor. Please have a seat Mr.....?" the drop off at the end was a request for him to provide his name.

Once Mort was seated and comfortable in the pew, Sacristan Gosei would hand him a small pamphlet labeled: "Can I be a Jashinist?"

Sacristan Gosei smiled and winked at the young man. There was no harm in trying to win souls for the Dark Lord. The Lady and Lord Superiors wanted the Orthodoxy to be appealing to those outside the normal recruitment parameters. It was likely Mort would junk the material but on the off-chance he read it, he might want to learn more about Jashinism. Once he was far enough down the rabbit hole, he might even join. It was a long shot but it would need to start somewhere.

"Just a bit of reading material while you wait. It might be awhile."

And with that, the white robed Jashinist priest would walk off and head towards the inner sanctuary.



Shimiko knelt before a stone altar in a dark red tinted room. The Inner Sanctuary was reserved for the highest ranking members of the Orthodox Church of Jashin. It was where the Lord and Lady Superior, their most trusted of Sacristans, and of course, the Defender of Faith made their sacrifices. The Chinoike was stark naked and covered in blood. It wasn't her own but rather that of a sacrifice. Her hair, which was normally done up in pigtails, was let down and likewise stained crimson. Before her on the altar was the corpse of a Waterfall POW. The man had escaped capture on the front and had broken into a civilian family's home. He had forced them to hide him, feed him, and "service" him. When Kumo finally found him, he took the family hostage and ended up killing them. The whole thing was a sick affair and when the Jashinist liaison demanded he be shipped to St. Memori's Cathedral there was not a single protest among the commanding officers. He had been stripped of his clothes, nearly drowned in holy oils, and bound to the stone table.

When Shimiko and her acolytes-in-prayer were done with him, he had suffered 62 stab wounds. She had gone slow. She made sure to extract every bit of sorrow, evil, and desire from him and lay it bare before the entity that she served. When his soul finally left his body, it'd run into the arms of her God like a child fleeing into the safety of their loving father. The pain he experienced would give him a newfound love and appreciation for the Void and she would receive Jashin's favor for doing his work on Earth.

It was a win-win.

The intensity of the war and the instability that racked the Kingdom of Thunder made it more important than ever for Shimiko to devote time to God. They had made a major breakthrough in the trenches but at great cost. Konoha had sacrificed their positioning for a risky but successful counter-attack. A Leaf Nin had circumvented the front, evaded naval detection, and landed in the Hot Springs with enough troops to raze two cities. The blow had hurt national morale and the fact that it was the ancestral Chinoike homeland that was struck made it sting even worse. There wasn't a repeat of Moonspire or Demons which was good but the loss was felt all the same. Would Ryuko be upset with her for failing to protect the land that she was made warden of? Was she looking down at Shimiko even now? The praying blonde pushed those thoughts out of her head and re-focused on the slaying in front of her.

The only thing that mattered now was Jashin.

Shimiko shut her eyes and muttered several prayers as the incense lifted in the room. She continued to pray for about another hour and a half before she started to hear whispers from a world beyond her own. The Necrossiah. As his chosen champion, she had a direct line to him that few could understand or appreciate. When he spoke, she listened. He had seen the fervor of her sacrifice and now he was blessing her with a revelation. When the moment had passed, Shimiko rose and approached the corpse. She removed the central ceremonial knife from its chest and licked the blood from it before kissing it and re-inserting it into the exact same spot. An acolyte immediate came running with a towel to hide her shame. The two exchanged the customary words and Shimiko was led to the vestry. From there she would be bathed, showered, scrubbed, dressed, and perfumed. When her attendants were finished, you'd have never known that she had just exited a human slaughterhouse.

She opted for business casual wear today consisting of a white blouse shirt completely unbuttoned and with nothing underneath, a black tie with the Orthodoxy's symbol emblazoned in the center, a black mini skirt, and combat heels. Shimiko's hair was let down for today and she had her trusty pair of Sai strapped to her thigh. She didn't expect to be attacked in her own Church and in her own city but you never know these days. The moment Shimiko exited the vestry, she was greeted by Sacristan Gosei who immediately bowed.

"Saint Shimiko, I'm humbled by your radiance and beauty, O Ye Blessed Defe-"
"Skip that part. What's up?"
"Someone is here to see you a uh, Mr...Mo...Mo...."

Sacristan Gosei paused as he realized he had forgotten the lad's name. He blushed and frantically racked his brain as he tried to remember what he had literally just been told. He was probably distracted by Shimi's chi-chi's but it also could have been Mort's passive genjutsu messing with his head.

The Seraph would give a small nod and move to the pew, responding the the psuedo-question before he sat down. "Motima Kurama, though she'll most likely know me better as Mort." He'd also accept the pamphlet, suppressing the desire to groan in a mix of frustration and relief that his assumption on them trying to convert him was in fact happening. He'd then watch as the Sacristan walked off to go inform Shimiko of his arrival, wondering which post-sacrifice prayer it was. Probably bloody, but if he recalled correctly different post prayers required different amounts of blood. If Shimiko was there it was probably one of the bloodier ones given her standing.

Figuring he had nothing better to do and that whatever was inside would give him some possible insight into the religion he didn't already know, the Seraph opened up the pamphlet to see if it held any possible insights into his own field of study, something he was beginning to dub 'Chijutsu', or 'Blood Arts'. While he knew things like the existence of the secret Jashinist immortality technique or the more curious 'Jujitsu' that he'd been attempting to recreate for a while now, there was still more to learn and apply to his new works. The religion's idea of sacrifice to become strong wasn't completely unfounded as Jujutsu was clearly a real thing, but the faith in a god was something he'd been slowly figuring out was unneeded. Still, with the existence of Rafaela he couldn't yet count out the possibility that the Necrossiah wasn't giving them some sort of power to those who worshipped him, and it was that possible reliance that perturbed him. Relying on another's power without making sure that you are able to stand with your own was something he was careful with, and had paid for already in the form of his teammates. Technically he was still paying.

Shimiko would probably kill or punish him if she found out he had been treading on 'Jashinist territory' or 'Chinoike territory' without being either of those himself. But, she'd probably find what he had found to be useful to the Orthodoxy and Kumo in general, as while it was rooted in sacrifice, it wasn't the sacrifice of other's blood but of your own, which held with his belief's. If he wasn't careful in how he presented it to her, yeah killing him in order to keep her faith in tact would be possible, but with how many people had died or fallen ill in this war, she'd have to find a damn good reason now that he was a jounin & Ryuko's remaining student.

But he couldn't rely on that alone. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, but it could. It would probably be best to show those later once he talked to her about other things.

"Mort?"
"Ah yes! Insightful as ever Your Saintliness. Motima Kurama was his full name but I recall him saying you'd know him by Mort"
"Awfully presumptuous of him"

Sacristan Gosei was unsure of how to react. Shimiko obviously knew who this young man was but she didn't appear excited to see him. He had shown up at the cathedral unexpected and St. Shimiko thought it inappropriate that he consider himself on a first name basis with her. Not knowing what to say next and still embarrassed by his slip of the memory, he only bowed and slinked away. His job here was done and the inner sanctuary would need to be cleaned and purified. Shimiko didn't need him to tell her where Mort was waiting for her. He'd be waiting where all other visitors would wait. She took the long way getting there, not because she wanted to make him wait, but because she needed to muster up the courage herself. Normally Shimiko wouldn't fear an encounter with any ninja, especially not one her junior in skill. But Mort was different. He was the sole remaining student of her best friend. She had already failed one of them and she had stayed away from Mort out of fear that she'd make the same mistake twice. If she had been just a bit faster, just a bit stronger, then maybe Tamwyn would still be alive and his children would have a father.

She didn't know much about Mort. She didn't know whether he had a family of his own or others depending on him, but she knew that she could not bear to have his death on her conscious. She remembered how devastated he looked when he saw the corpse of his comrade laying on the dojo floor. She didn't even have words for him then. Disgraceful

......What are you some kind of coward?!

Now here she was milling about her own Church avoiding a Kumo shinobi. One that she had no reason to fear, and yet, she found it difficult to face him. He was a reminder of what Ryuko had left behind and what Shimiko had to be strong enough to protect. Shimiko took a deep sigh and ceased her aimless wandering. If she kept it up, they'd know she was avoiding him. They knew these halls like the back of their hands and they knew she knew them just as well. If she was avoiding an interloper then that would be very concerning. A sign that she no longer possessed the Orthodoxy's radical conviction? A sign that Jashin's light was fading from her? Shimiko knew there were those who would love nothing more than to spread such narratives. Sacristans that had loved Mora and had regarded her death with suspicion and rightfully so. Might alone couldn't capture a true believer's heart and though she had installed her own as the Church's leader, she was keenly aware that there were those who eagerly awaited their downfall. They'd wait until she was at her weakest and then pounce. They wouldn't care if it took down the Church, all they had in their hearts was vengeance and impatience. She couldn't give them a reason. She had to be strong.

Shimiko marched down the stairs and through the hall. Mort would be able to hear her coming from across the entrance hall. She was the only one in the cathedral with the audacity to wear heels in Church and the click of her boots across the marble floor heralded her approach. She stopped directly in front of the sitting Kurama and looked down at him with a neutral expression. She normally wore her heart on her sleeve but in this place of all places, the Necrossiah had given her the strength to conceal her fear.

"Hi Mort. How can I help you?"

Mort's lack of response was unsurprising. Many were awe-struck when they met the legendary Shimiko Chinoike for the first time. Even moreso when it was in the seat of her power, the very halls of the Orthodoxy itself. Shimiko waited for a response and raised an eyebrow as Mort sat their rather awkwardly. Either he had forgotten what he had come here for, gotten too scared to say it, or he was experiencing the inattentiveness that often preceded the plague. Shimiko prayed to Jashin that it was the former two and not the latter. She'd wait a few more seconds for Mort to speak before saying:

"Well if you change your mind, you know where to find me." She snapped her fingers and called a Sacristan over. "Please escoert Mort out and see to it that he's okay." Shimiko then left for her private study where she'd pray for him. He was Ryuko's last remnaining student and she'd feel absolutely awful if he succumbed to the plague.

[Exit]