The Fire Temple stood quiet in the early dawn, the air heavy with unease after Sora's mysterious death. Shadows flickered against the great gates as two figures approached, their black cloaks patterned with ominous red clouds swaying with each step.
They were not strangers to death, nor to the whispers that followed them.
The immortal zealot, Hidan, hefted his wicked three-bladed scythe across his shoulders with a careless grin. Beside him strode Kakuzu, the miserly bounty hunter whose stitched frame and calculating eyes weighed every soul in terms of ryo. Together, they formed Akatsuki's most volatile pair.
But this mission wasn't ordered by Akatsuki. This was Kakuzu's hunt.
A thirty-million-rio bounty gleamed in his mind, and the head he sought belonged to none other than Chiriku—the Fire Temple's guardian monk, famed throughout the shinobi world for his mastery of the Welcoming Approach: Thousand-Armed Murder.
As the temple gates creaked open, Chiriku himself stepped forward. His eyes, calm but wary, swept over the two cloaked intruders. He could already feel the taint in their chakra, a darkness that stank of blood.
"What business do you have here?" Chiriku asked, his voice even but edged with steel.
Kakuzu did not bother with deception. His deep voice rumbled like gravel.
"Simple. Your head is worth thirty million. I'll be taking it."
The monk's expression hardened, confirmation flashing across his features. So this was tied to Sora's death after all.
"As expected. Evil truly walks in your footsteps. It seems you were the ones who killed Sora."
Hidan chuckled, twirling his scythe with eager hands. "Heh. Don't lump me in with Kakuzu's money-grubbing. I'm just here to spill blood. Let me handle him, Kakuzu."
Kakuzu's stitched gaze narrowed. "Fine. But don't get careless. If you botch this, I won't save you."
"Yeah, yeah," Hidan muttered, grinning ear to ear. "It'll be over quick."
Chiriku pressed his palms together in a seal. Golden light flared around his frame, his chakra surging into form. Behind him rose a towering Buddha-like statue, ten meters tall, its many arms fanning outward in overwhelming majesty.
"Welcoming Approach: Thousand-Armed Murder!"
Dozens of luminous arms swept forward as one, striking with divine force.
Hidan's grin faltered too late. He leapt with his scythe raised—only to be smashed from the air, his body flung across the courtyard and tumbling through dust and stone.
Kakuzu cursed under his breath. "That idiot… charging headlong into a technique like that? Immortality doesn't make you invincible." His mind was already calculating. If he dies, I'll just find another partner.
But Hidan didn't stay down. Groaning, then laughing through bloodied teeth, he staggered upright. "Hahaha! That hurt! You've got some bite, monk. But killing me? You're not qualified!"
Chiriku's brow furrowed. Even after taking the full force of my technique, he still stands…
Hidan sprinted forward again, swinging wildly. Chiriku's statue moved, slamming phantom fists into him again and again. Dust plumed, ground cracked, yet Hidan rose every time, cackling through the punishment.
The monks inside the temple trembled as they felt the shockwaves shake the earth. Fear rippled through their ranks, but they weren't blind.
"We must send for Konoha's help," one whispered urgently.
"Yes… There's no way we can handle these monsters alone," another agreed.
Two monks immediately prepared to leave, hearts pounding as they fled toward the Leaf.
Outside, the battle raged. Chiriku remained steady, his golden aura blazing as the Buddha struck in rhythm. Yet no matter how many times Hidan was thrown aside, the scythe always swung back.
Finally, the blade clipped Chiriku's arm, drawing a thin line of blood.
Hidan's eyes widened in delight. "There it is… just a taste is enough!"
Chiriku tensed, sensing something foul as the cultist licked the crimson from his blade.
The ritual began.
Dark lines spread across Hidan's pale skin, twisting into black markings. His eyes rolled in ecstatic madness as he drew a circle on the ground, stepping into its center like a priest before an altar.
Chiriku's gaze sharpened. "What is this technique…?"
Hidan's grin stretched unnaturally wide. "A ceremony. A curse. Your blood ties you to me now. Whatever pain I feel—" He raised a jagged spear of iron, poised above his chest.
"—you'll feel too."
The weapon plunged into his stomach.
"AAH!" The cry ripped from Chiriku's throat as searing pain tore through his abdomen. He staggered, clutching the wound that wasn't there, his body wracked by agony that belonged to another.
Hidan laughed, a high, manic cackle that echoed off the temple walls. "Hehehehe! This is the power of Jashin-sama! The show's just getting started…!"
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