[Kyodai Utsuwa]

"No. It can not. There are pains too great to be borne. Griefs too terrible to bear. Regrets too terrible to consider." That was fine. The wrong answer was better than a lie. Ren would learn the limits of the body's ability to withstand pain. There were limits. If Utsuwa transgressed their limits, they may even be beyond the first of Jashin's salvations.

At least there was always the second.

They still had their back to their patient and student, taking a few select tools and substances. The first was simple - a container of salt. They returned to Ren, and taking a heavy pinch of the previous condiment and ritual tool, scattered across Ren's bloodied torso, then massaged it into the wounds. It would purify. It would help prevent infection. And it would hurt. A new hurt. A hurt few experienced.

"Thy flesh wilt be flayed. Thy skin flensed. Thy digits broken and pruned. Thy eyes scorched. Thou shalt count thine own ribs. The symbol of Jashin-sama burnt and carved into thy body, thy soul. At what point wilt thee no longer be able to bear it? At what point wilt thee accept the truth? Before thy mind crumbles entirely? Else after?" They finished rubbing literal salt into the wounds, then returned to the counter, calmly wiping their hands clean of salt and blood. Utsuwa was calm, their smile gentle.

They had done this before. More than once.

They returned with a pair of tools of dubious medical worth. A fine metal needle, too thin and short to be a ninja's senbon. And a set of secateurs. Too short and sharp to be intended for gardening. The secateurs were set aside, by Ren's bound leg.

They seized Ren's bound foot of the unbroken leg, and carefully lined up the needle. Placing the point between the nail and flesh of the smallest toe, then beginning to push. The sharp needle intending to pierce through the sensitive nailbed, and lift the nail painfully away. A simple and ancient method of causing pain. Struggle and thrashing would mostly make the result more bloody and jagged. Utsuwa was small and slight, but they were precise and practiced.

"The lesson is this; suffering can build without ceasing. This time, Ren-dono, this time I shalt indulge thee without reservation. This pain will cease the moment thee demand it ends." Until that moment came, Utsuwa would continue to push the needle into Ren, millimeter by bloody millimeter.

[Ishikawa Ren]

     I'm dissolving. I'm burning. It felt like his wounds were on fire, worse than the brand had been, somehow. Heart pounded, arms struggled. Ren's brain wanted to itch it, to shred the wounds apart, to remove every grain of salt. Unbearable.

     It wasn't possible for his voice to be louder. The sound of it made his ears wants to burst. How had no one heard? How deep is this forest? Have they forgotten me? Gone home? All that stopped him from slamming his head into the table until he passed out was that voice deep inside, telling him to fight.

     Panting, sweating from every pore in his body, he looked down as Utsuwa presented the thin, thin needle. It was placed at the underside of the nail, slightly pushed in. Ren's leg practically kicked on its own and he screamed out. Oh gods! He had no idea pain could reach these extremes.

     For a time, he maintained his struggle against them, and the pain. Clenching teeth, trying not to let his body convince itself to bite off his tongue or chew through his cheek. Eventually, his body stilled on its own and the struggle seemed to move into his head - like his brain was pulsating, fighting itself, slamming against the walls to get out.

     "Stop, stop, stop!" he stammered, unable to stomach any more."I can't take it anymore! I need His help!" he screamed out, lungs feeling ragged and ripped. "Jashin," he panted "Jashin, please,"

     "tell me what to do."

Kyodai Utsuwa | 250 words

[Kyodai Utsuwa]

Utsuwa smiled. It seemed that this spirit might be easier to break than they first thought. Once it was, the true healing could begin.

As promised, the needle was extracted, though the pain would linger. The seceuters were picked up, the blades placed between the knuckles, before the handles were squeezed, neatly and cleanly severing the digit. It would bleed, but not enough to worry themselves with. The severed toe was placed on the table. If matters went well, Utsuwa would reattach it for them. Or not - the smallest toe served little purpose.

"Pain ceaseth with severance. Cut from thy body, thy digit is free from pain. But the remaining body mourns its loss," Utsuwa commented blandly, excusing themselves to acquire then press a wad of gauze into the new and purposeful wound. "To be free from pain, truly free, thou must needs sever thyself from the cycle of suff'ring thy soul and body art both shackled to. The world winds and wends, tearing thy body to rags by inches and inches." Utsuwa took the needle again, and readied the next toe in line.

But nothing was pierced. Not yet. "Jashin-sama wilt deliver thee. I can teach thee the words, the dogma, the strictures and scriptures. But what thou must needs do is passing simple:" The needle poised to pierce and tear once more, they let the sharp point rest against the tender flesh, as Utsuwa smiled soothingly down at Ren.

"Abandon thyself. Take the source of thy profane strength, thy chakra, and offer it up unto Jashin-sama. Now and forevermore. Forswear ninjutsu and every form of magick." They began to insert the needle. "Do this, and thou shalt taste of pain ne'ermore."

Until Ren succeeded in receiving the blessing of Jashin, or Ren ran out of toes on this foot, they would continue and repeat the bloody work.

All the while, they began to recite a prayer, a pause after each line an invitation for Ren to repeat it. An adapted fragment of their daily prayer. "In thy name, Jashin-sama, take mine soul, mine body, and do as thou wilt; In thy name, Jashin-sama, I shalt walk this cursed earth, sheltered by thy hand; In thy name, Jashin-sama, I shalt bring suff'ring to the heretic; I shalt do all these things by Thy name, Thy grace, Thy provision, and without regret, hesitation, nor question."

[Ishikawa Ren]

     Sever thyself from the cycle... Ren thought as he stared up at the ceiling, floating in a deep sea of pain. Each new suffering was like suffering a death - each time, he felt as though there was no returning to before. Hurts that could not be mended.

     Perhaps Ninjutsu could heal the toe. But could it heal the soul? He continued to stare, lips chapped from exertion. Ninjutsu had led him here. It wasn't who he was. He'd give it up readily to be free of the pain. But that still left the question: who was he?

     Ren'd let things pull him every which way, a ship on the waves, directed by forces outside his control. He'd never even tried to grab hold of the ropes. Nothing in his life had ever truly been his choice. Why did he have to die before he'd ever lived?

     The old Ren, he finally thought. He made the choices that led here, not me. "In thy name, Jashin-sama..." he croaked. Let him leave. "do as thou wilt..." It felt like he was becoming empty, becoming hollow.

     He shut his eyes. Ren was sitting up now, leaving his body. "I shalt walk this cursed earth..." Ren was leaving, he thought, but he turned back and pressed his ephemeral lips to his forehead. "sheltered by thy hand..."

     There was nothing left in him, now. Just the husk. Ren walked to the door, opened it without looking back. He was gone. But I'm still here, strapped to this table.

     What will you do now? his old self seemed to ask, from outside. Now that the choice and the consequences were his, it was easy. He didn't want to suffer anymore. "I shalt do all these things," the new Ren said. "without regret, hesitation, nor question."

     It was too lonely in this body, now. Too much leftover space. He wanted to see who he'd be sharing his corpse with. "Show him to me," he whispered. "let me see him,"

Kyodai Utsuwa | 332 words

[Kyodai Utsuwa]

"Ah, were it so easy to make manifest the presence of our lord!" Utsuwa's voice had been cheerful before. Now it was outright rapturous, exulting in the joy of knowing that they had led another onto the path. To hear a new believer recite the words, choked with the pain of their old existence. It was for moments like this that they strove so hard, and rejected the path of the Inquisitor. Such rare motes of delight to buoy their soul.

Jashin was gracious indeed.

Utsuwa set aside the last of Ren's toes, the five of them neatly arranged. They bound them in cloth, then tended to the foot, staunching the blooding, if nothing else. They could be reattached, especially once the blessing took hold. Limbs were easily reattached as the body became more and more inured against death. They had time. They would soon have all the time they ever needed. "We shalt depart for the main temple, the heart of Jashin-sama's eschatology, anon. Once thy bones hath knit. There - there shalt thee meet with thy Lord true. Verily, I promise thee." The needle and secateurs were placed back on the counter. More things to clean and sharpen. Every labour was not in vain. Not with Jashin's guidance.

They allowed Ren to regain their composure, and, if their words were true, and their offering accepted, to allow the deathless blessing of Jashin to settle into his body, his bones. To feel pain flee from their body, never to return as long as they kept Jashin's commandments. They returned to the fire, and took out the makeshift brand again, once again glowing bright with heat. "A second prayer for thee. A prayer of repentance, for thy sins, thy blasphemies. A cost to be paid. Suff'ring that thee may yet understand suff'ring, even as it flies from thy coil." Utsuwa had no way of knowing whether or not the blessing had come to rest in Ren, or not. They would continue regardless.

"Bring pain unto me, and as I offer up paltry sacrifices, pray, let mine heart be cleans'd; bring pain unto me, and, as I beg thy forgiveness, pray, let me be bless'd anew; as long as this wavering heart beateth, as long as these lungs draw breath, as long as this world remaineth, pray, receive this: mine contrition. Mine devotion. Mine loyalty." The edge of the brand was brought closer to Ren's face. Close enough to cause mild burns. Utsuwa's face was focused - they needed to be careful. Harm was needed, but it would not do to needlessly cripple or kill a new convert.

But Jashin did not require his supplicants to be whole. Few of them were.

"Gouge out mine eyes, that I may know the pain of the blind." They pressed the brand into Ren's left eye, to burn and boil flesh and aqueous matter both. If the blessing had not taken hold, it would be brutal, blinding agony. If Ren had received the blessing, he would feel nothing but the awareness of his eye being burnt away.

[Ishikawa Ren]

     Something slithered into existence, carried on an intangible current like a whisper on the wind. Ren felt it enter through the wounds of his chest, come to wrap itself up inside his flesh and make itself at home. Jashin? he asked. There was no answer. But he could feel it, taking the place of where the old Ren had been.

     An awareness came to him - he wasn't lonely anymore. No longer empty. Ren looked down at the place where his toes had been, laid his head back down. There was no pain, no more suffering. He smiled.

     Jashin? he asked once more. It wasn't a lie. The god was a part of him now, and as most of what little chakra he had left vanished as a tithe, he struggled not to pass out from chakra exhaustion. I can't leave him now, he thought, fighting off the encroaching darkness.

     When was the last time he - no, Ren - had felt this good? There was nothing. No pain, no suffering, not even the nagging voices in the back of his mind. He stifled a laugh out of fear of the pain, realized the fear and the pain were merely a memory of his old self - his old body. He laughed.

     Ren saw Utsuwa bring the glowing brand to rest over his left eye. He could feel the heat. But it no longer carried any negative connotation. It reminded him of another of this body's memories: nights lying in front of the fireplace at home, soaking up the warm heat like a dog. And the brand itself - he noticed a new appreciation for the geometric design.

     The sensation of his eye leaving him was there, but it no longer affected him. He merely laid there and let it happen. Why wouldn't everyone want to live like this? Suddenly he thought of them all as fools. Fools, with pathetic, stupid excuses like - 'you can't have the good without the bad.' This is the good.

     He marveled as his sight vanished on the left side. He chuckled. It's like they say: it's not black, it's nothing. Yet his brain still believed he saw, as the dulled orange of the brand appeared in the remainder of his vision. Something crawled from the void.

     A set of claws set themselves upon the bone under his eye socket. A white visage rose up from the nothingness. A mask, like bone. Pure white. No body - just nothingness, but different from the nothingness behind it. His soul could sense it. The thing's clawed hands leaned forward, grabbed him where his eye should have been and crawled up inside. Jashin. You'll never leave me, will you? The thing cackled within his skull.

     "I can see Him, Utsuwa, I can see Him."

Kyodai Utsuwa | 459 words

[Kyodai Utsuwa]

The smell of sizzling flesh was sweet and foul at once. It did not gladden their heart to see torn and ruined flesh, especially not in a fellow member of Jashin's faithful. But it gladdened them to see that Ren did not flinch, even as the discipline, the repentance, was administered. The blessing had to come to rest, in truth.

Tears of joy sprung in their eyes. Then ran freely as Ren's words soaked in.
"Ah, that thou wouldst be blessed so profoundly, despite the weight of thy sins. Truly, the beneficence of Jashin-sama is beyond all reckoning." They dabbed their eyes with their sleeve, and reached up to loose their medallion from the poker, searing their own fingertips as they undid the wire. In its place, a kitchen knife liberated from the cabin itself was placed there, then placed into the fire. The final tool they would need.

"Ren-dono - no. Kyodai Ren. Mine own brother." They smiled with that. There was more to teach, more to do. But that name was forever etched onto Ren, no different than the brand over his heart. "Thou'rt a more worthy vessel than I, I suspect. Great is the fate Jashin-sama has for thee, I am certain." There was more to do, to be done.

Flesh cut and sanctified, and more evidence of the blessing given and made. Patterns of ancient and unclear meanings carved into skin, while Utsuwa taught. The commandments. The laws. The prayers. The tradition of sacrificing those outside Jashin's grace - though not emphasized, like the more militant of their order.

Eventually, Utsuwa cut the bonds on Ren's wrists, and lifted up his shoulders, urging him to sit up. "Thy sanctification stands but a breath from completion. One final mark, to pledge thy flesh forevermore. Wilt thee permit me to do this for thee, my brother?" The heated blade was held close to his back. One final sigil, greater than the first, that would mirror the one carved into their own back.

[Ishikawa Ren]

     Kyodai. My new name? Yes, he thought. Ishikawa was the name of the boy
who had died. The boy who had given up and left.

     Kyodai rose from the table as his restraints were cut. He felt his wrists, still half-expecting them to be sore. This new existence would take getting used to. And there were plenty of questions to ask. What exactly was he? A child of Jashin, in a literal sense? Yet he had existed in this corpse before His grace had entered it. Questions for another time.

     He listened as Utsuwa enlightened him, but did not speak. Ren had spoken too much. Constantly wagging his tongue. And his mind, too. Kyodai closed his eye and committed the commandments, the prayers, the laws to memory. He found it was easier than expected. Ren's things still cluttered up the brain, but they could be shoved aside. He had his own space now. Kyodai's space.

     At Utsuwa's beckoning, he sat up with aid. The flesh was still weak. Limitations of the physical world. Even if immortal, one must abide by the laws of nature, of the world - second only to Jashin's laws. Kyodai liked the simplicity of his new world. There were only two things that mattered: Jashin, and his vessels, like himself and Utsuwa. Everyone else was simply a vessel waiting to be made.

     All of Ren's problems and wishes didn't matter anymore: only one thing mattered. Kyodai turned back to Utsuwa and gave them a half-smile, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. He'd taken to chewing the inside of his cheeks, just to see what it felt like. Like eating food, he decided.

     "Of course, my brother. I would not ask thee -" Hm. Odd. "- to do anything that I would not do myself. We're more the same than we are different, aren't we? We both possess a part of His glory, do we not?"

     The thing that dwelt in the void of his left eye seemed to screech something.

Kyodai Utsuwa | 333 words

[Kyodai Utsuwa]

"Indeed we do." Utsuwa did not have to ask their brother to remain still. They would not flinch, even as the knife cut and burned a triangle into their fellow faithful's back. Their own hand was steady and exacting. This last brand would be the greatest, and while it would be etched permanently into Ren's body, so too would every mistake.

"Pray, do not become conceited. We art but vessels of Jashin-sama's blessings and will. 'Tis for this reason I mark thee, and sanctify thee. Lead thee in penitence and worship both." Utsuwa remembered those first, heady heights. When they learned what it was to be free from suffering from pain. They barely remembered what pain was like any more, with the only memory enduring being their own education, all those many years ago. It needed to be memorable, so that time would not wear it away.

The triangle completed, they started work on the the circle that would contain it, before the knife cooled completely."Ah, and though the blessings art great indeed, remember that our vessels remain fragile things, poor and fragile containers. Thou hath naught to fear from death nor suffering. Yet injury and sickness may yet foul thy steps." Feelings of invincibility had to be tempered with some caution. Some.

"Prithee, my brother, allow thy leg to mend. I shalt assist thee, and then I shalt lead thee to greet Jashin-sama in full, in the seat of His power." The circle was complete, and, with it, the last of the gifts Utsuwa had to offer. The knife, now cool, was placed on the table.

Truly a joyous day. Utsuwa closed their eyes, murmuring prayers of worship and praise to Jashin.

[Ishikawa Ren]

     Kyodai sat off the edge of the table, feeling the blood dripping down his back. His dark eye looked around the inside of the cabin. An entire world waited outside, but for some reason, his mind's eye was locked upon the door. It wasn't fear, per se, but... Anticipation? No. Agitation? That seemed closer to it.

     Would Ren be waiting outside? He turned his head to look over at Utsuwa, whose eyes were closed in prayer, or sleep. The knife laid beside him. Tool of suffering, he thought, as he gazed at it. A thought drew his eye away and back down to his leg.

     For whatever reason, Kyodai did not wish to leave. Was it a connection with this place? The stupid, idiot Ren had neglected to even remember where he had been at the time of his death. He'd have to ask Utsuwa when they woke. He'd prefer to perform his conversions in the place of his own.

     He traced the brand of Jashin upon his chest. No longer was he empty. The feeling of a second being within his flesh was an odd one, but when he tried to call Jashin, He would not respond. When he focused on the void, he could see the thing, though. Kyodai shut his eye, reciting the words of Jashin in his mind. When he woke - he wasn't sure, the reciting seemed the same as sleep - Utsuwa was not moving. Either still deep in prayer or sleep.

     As if acting on its own, his body stuck its hand into his pocket, which earned a scowl of confusion from Kyodai. He pulled it out, seeing the colored crumbs of the ration pill cupped within. Something compelled him to slowly pour them into his mouth, which he did.

     Sweet. Like candy. Had it tasted so good before? Kyodai had never tasted food before, only in memory. Hunger, too, seemed foreign. He could feel some part of his being was restored, in some tiny amount. It felt numb, though, disconnected, almost - it was Jashin's domain. Or was it Ren's?

     His gaze fell upon his fellow Jashinist. They were not alone either - they had a sliver of Jashin, as well. If he cut them, could he find it? Deep inside? Could he take it? The knife beckoned like a siren's call. An arm creeped out of the void, pointed at it with a pure white hand.

     Kyodai picked it up, felt the edge with his fingers, ran the blade along the bases. Something fell to the ground with a quiet plop. Utsuwa did not wake. Something that Ren had feared so much was now a plaything. He had nothing to fear from this, or anything.

     Nothing to fear from Utsuwa. Kyodai took the blade in his hand. I want it. I'm not full. There's more room in here. He licked his lips. Chapped. The flesh was still weak. But there's a way, isn't there? said another voice. Kyodai did not question it. Orders from Jashin.

     Knife in hand with a sickly, bloody grin on his face, Kyodai lunged forward. "Utsuwa!" he yelled as he threw his hand out to take hold of a clutch of their hair. His other let out a powerful, sickly slash with the knife, aimed to claim his prize.

     Yet as he did, his body committed the worst sin - the one Kyodai would never make. It used Ninjutsu.

Ren using Cloud-Style Front Beheading.
Kyodai Utsuwa | 567 words

[Kyodai Utsuwa]

The silence, the beauty, and the wonder if that moment shone through their eyelids. It was almost too bright to look at directly. That they, such an unworthy vessel, would be able to play a part in bringing about such a bounty of blessings for another. To gain a new brother.

Then their hair was seized, and a blade brought across their throat.

Utsuwa's eyes widened in surprise. Had their lessons been misinterpreted? Had his new devotion to Jashin inspired such zeal that he could not restrain himself? Had this all been a clever ruse? The apparent presence of a divine blessing a counterfeit, forged of the magicks they still had little understanding of?

Their head lolled and their body spasmed as blood spurt up into the air. An inarticulate gurgle escaped Utsuwa as they collapsed back onto the table. The knife had bitten deep and wide. Even without pain, it was no mild injury. The blood loss alone would have imperiled anyone bereft of Jashin's blessing.

They peered at Ren with worried, questioning eyes, their slashed throat only allowing gurgles and splutters. But their lips still spoke, for those with the eyes to read them: "Wherefore hath thee done this?"

Their body wasn't moving as they wished. Had their nerves been struck? Their spine? It was hard to say. And yet their heart swelled with concern for their brother.

[Ishikawa Ren]

     Ren flinched as blood sprayed his face. No! No, no, no! screamed Kyodai, vanishing. Don't leave me! The momentum of the swing threw Ren onto the floor beside Utsuwa, crashing onto his face, completely unable to stand. Oh gods, the pain. It pierced through him like dozens of spears trapping him in place on the floor. The fire, the suffering. He gasped for breath.

     Get up! he screamed to himself. So weak, so empty. Jashin was gone. But the thing remained, laughing from his eye socket. He was hollow again - his being a void, his skin paper. Lonely once again - Ren had returned, but he felt scraped out. He forced himself to his forearms and knees, the ground slicked with Utsuwa's blood.

     I have to get to the door, he thought, and realized he was babbling like a madman as he crawled across the floor, slipping with every 'step.' Every fiber of his body screamed, begging him to give up and accept death. The door loomed overhead, growing larger in his mind with each grasp and splinter.

     Heart pounding, hyperventilating, he finally reached the door and threw himself up against the wall, bloody fingers grasping for the doorknob, slipping, slipping. No grip. Heart in his throat, he looked back. They were not dead. Voice lost in fear, he scrambled to his belongings a few feet away - the shirt, the shirt, wrap it around it around the handle.

Kyodai Utsuwa | 237 words

[Kyodai Utsuwa]

Utsuwa's body felt leaden, and a lurching attempt to arrest Ren's escape sent their body to the floor, head dangling in a way fit for a corpse. A sluggish hand gripped their own hair, holding their head mostly in place, litres of blood issuing forth from their body. Head secured, they reached out again, and slipped on the slick floor. Slick with their blood. With Ren's.

Eventually, they found their voice again. Even without lungs, without breath, Jashin's faithful could speak. Physically impossible, but so too was living with a pierced heart, and they had done that. Recently, in fact.

"My... brother..." It was a raspy gurgle, eyes wide and pleading. Not out of pain, or desperation. There was pity and compassion, there. They could see the panic. The pain. They had apostacized, but it was not too late. Jashin would forgive. The agony would be great, but it would fade, in time. As long as Ren came back to the fold.

It was Utsuwa's fault. Ren was not ready to be freed. The lessons not carved deeply enough into the soul. They could rectify this. Save Ren from himself. They could.

"Pray... re...main... Doth thee... not desire free...dom from thy suff'ring?" Utsuwa rose to their knees, now using both hands to stabilize their head. Step by stumbling step, they grew closer. A great pool of blood radiating out from them.

[Ishikawa Ren]

     Words had left him. All Ren could manage now was Ah, ah, ah, over and over as his chest heaved up and down and up and down, hands grabbing at his shirt and sword and pouches. Utsuwa lurched forward like a zombie.

     Red smeared all over the white fabric as he ripped through the pile. Shuriken - the pouch was empty. Kunai! Ren's fingers struggled to open it. They were stiff like a corpse's. I just need one! he screamed in his mind, echoing like a cave. Jittering about, he forced the cold sticks between the clasp and yanked with all his strength.

     The pouch flew out of his hands, the kunai scattered underneath the distant table. Utsuwa lumbered. Ren panicked. Katana, katana, katana, he repeated as he unburied it. Broken. He cut himself on the shattered and jagged blade. Utsuwa was almost at arms' reach. Ren grabbed the shirt, threw it up and over the doorknob, used it like a sling to pull himself out of their reach.

     Up to his knees. Twist. The door creaked open. The light through the leaves was blinding. Ren crawled outside, the dirt and grass feeling like heaven in his hands, the forest a halo about his head. He turned to look at the door that'd swung back shut, raised his legs up and prepared to shove it when he saw movement, despite the pain in his leg and feet. They were screaming and screaming, loud enough in his head to shatter glass.

Kyodai Utsuwa | 249 words

[Kyodai Utsuwa]

With one hand occupied with holding their head in place, and their body still oddly numb and clumsy. They lurched forward to grasp Ren, to hold him in place for another moment. A minute. An hour. A day. A year. However long it would take to secure Ren in Jashin's warm embrace.

Utsuwa stumbled to their knees, watching with naked sorrow as Ren managed to slip out of the door. Why would he want to flee? To return to a body, a world, of suffering? They did not understand. Could not understand. It could only be error.

Their blood-slicked hand struggled with the door handle. They used tried again, after returning to their hand inside their sleeve.

Only for the door to be kicked, sending Utsuwa sprawling out on the floor. Their neck fell at an awkward angle, their head mostly remaining attached and on the right way due to their dogged grip. And now their legs were numb. Not the first time they'd have had spinal damage, but it was no less frustrating. If only they had left his wrists bound.

Regret was an unfamiliar taste. And it was bitter.

"Kyodai... Ren! My brother... Cease...! I hath... no rancor. All can... be... forgiven... Prithee..." They called out, no longer able to rise. They were pleading, anguished. And not for their sake.