"Jashin conquers all," I murmured, ending the ritual. I stood, and pulled the knife from my leg. I watched as blood flowed onto the symbol painted on the floor, merging with blood already spilled. Stretching, I sighed, and grabbed a cleaning cloth and some bleach.

I hated this part the most; the cleaning after the ritual was performed. Still, it was necessary if I wanted to remain in this village. Most knew I was a Jashinist, but had little idea of what that meant. As long as they didn't find out about the rituals, I could stay.

Of course, this meant cleaning the bloodstains off the floor, and occasionally the walls. The stains on my clothes were less conspicuous. As a shinobi, it was expected that I have scars and occasional stains and tears in my clothes. Still, if they saw the amount of scars covering my body, many would chase me out of the village without a second glance.

I shrugged out of my clothing and stepped into the shower, the water almost unbearably hot, just the way I liked it. Stepping out the shower, I moved to grab my towel, but stopped in front of the mirror.

My body from neck to wrists and ankles was covered in scars. My face had one scar, high on my cheekbone, and the backs of my hands had faded marks from various battles, but none of these scars compared to those on the rest of my body.

My arms and legs were crisscrossed with scars, most above the elbows and knees, though some small ones marked my forearms and shins. Larger scars crossed my torso, though they weren't quite as prominent as those on my limbs. Twisting, I saw the reflection of my back in the mirror.

Many scars marked my back, though none as large as the one that snaked from my right shoulder to my left hip. This scar had marked my entrance into the Jashin religion, and had been left by the weapon I had chosen to wield.

Each novice was given a choice of weapon, and was marked by that weapon before becoming a full-fledged Jashinist. My weapon choice had been a long staff, with twin blades on either end. Turning away from the mirror, I dried off and dressed. Short sleeves covered my shoulders, leaving my arms bare; long pants ensured the scars on my legs were covered. The top had a high collar, covering the scars on my collarbone.

A knock on my door caught my attention. I passed through the living room, smacking myself on the forehead when I spotted blood on the floor. Crap, I missed a spot. Opening the door, I blocked the view of the living with my body.

"Kanna, the Mizukage requests your presence." I nodded, glancing over the Chūnin's shoulder. She tried to get a glimpse of my living room, but I shifted, blocking her view. She scowled at me.

"Come on Kanna, we're on the same team. Can I come in?" I thought about saying no, and knew that I should, but Kureha was glaring at me.

"Fine," I sighed, resigning myself to moving again.