Chương 25: The Cinder Mark of the Unpassed, The Evil God Oma

"Oneechan, hasn't Shingo woken up yet?" Seeing Tsunade walk out of Shingo's hospital room, Nawaki, who had been keeping watch right outside the door the entire time, immediately sprang to his feet. Tsunade gently pulled the door shut behind her and replied, "Don't worry, I've checked him over multiple times; the kid is fine. He's just utterly exhausted. He'll wake up once he's had enough sleep."

"Oh... I see." Nawaki sat back down on the corridor bench with a heavy, restless heart, his eyes shot through with crimson bloodshot veins. Twelve hours had passed since the ambush, and he hadn't closed his eyes once, choosing to wait right here the whole time. To put his mind at ease, Tsunade had re-examined Shingo's condition repeatedly at his insistence.

Yet no matter how many times she assured Nawaki that Shingo's injuries had stabilized and his life was not in danger, the knot of anxiety in Nawaki's chest refused to untangle until he could see Shingo open his eyes with his own two eyes. Tsunade sat down beside him, reaching out to pull him into her embrace.

"You should get some sleep, too. By the time you wake up, Shingo will be awake as well."

"Oneechan, I can't sleep," Nawaki murmured softly.

"The moment I close my eyes, all I see is that explosive tag, that arrow of blood, and Shingo stepping in right in front of me. Oneechan, if it weren't for Shingo, I would have died twice over." Tsunade didn't say anything; she just pulled Nawaki a little tighter against her. This was the first time since she had rushed to the hospital that Nawaki had spoken of anything unrelated to Shingo's medical condition. Yet what he was talking about was the fact that he himself had nearly died out there.

Feeling the warmth of his sister's embrace, Nawaki's throbbing head eased slightly, and the relentless pounding behind his temples finally began to subside. The sister and brother kept vigil outside the ward in a silence so deep that only the faint hum of monitoring equipment from within the rooms could be heard. A few minutes later, Orochimaru arrived quietly.

"Tsunade, is Shingo really alright?"

"No major issues. I checked him thoroughly, only the burns on his chest, with no damage to his muscles or internal organs. Besides, the boy has an incredible constitution; he should recover in no time." At that, she shifted her gaze toward Orochimaru.

"By the way, didn't you say you were going back to check on the jutsu that hit Shingo? Well? Did you find anything?" Even with his lingering drowsiness, Nawaki snapped to full alertness at those words.

"I found a few things." Orochimaru drew the short blade used by Cinder Bone from his tunic, presenting it to Tsunade to display the insignia marked along the flat of the blade. It was a pale gray ring, its perimeter covered in irregular, fractured breaks resembling cracks forged by searing flames. In the absolute center of the ring rested an inverted triangular bone spike, its sharp tip pointing downward to pierce the circle.

Just below the outer rim of the ring were three curved, broken dashed lines extending all the way down to the hilt.

"The Cinder Mark of the Unpassed, the representative emblem of the Oma cult from the Land of Rivers. The Black Cinders is entirely composed of zealots who worship the Oma cult. Aside from sustaining their daily necessities, the money they earn from mercenary work and bounty hunting is practically all funneled into this religious order."

"The Oma cult?" Tsunade frowned.

"Yes," Orochimaru nodded.

"You remember the Jashin cult from the Land of Rivers, right? The one that's wanted by Yugakure. This cult operates on a very similar nature. The only difference is that while the Jashin cult worships curse-killings and human sacrifice, these people worship ashes and sacrifice." Orochimaru's voice paused slightly before continuing.

"If Nawaki and Shikaku's descriptions are accurate, the ultimate technique that last man used should be one of the Oma cult's forbidden jutsus: Blood Curse: Return to Cinder and Bone." At the mention of that name, Nawaki shuddered involuntarily. Tsunade pressed a comforting hand against his back, while Orochimaru slowed his cadence a fraction. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

"When an ordinary person dies, their soul returns to the Pure Land. But the Oma cult believes otherwise; they hold that sacrificing one's soul to the Oma deity is the true path home. Therefore, they engrave the Cinder Mark of the Unpassed onto their bodies, seeking to use this method to prevent their souls from being guided away by the Pure Land.

"The Blood Curse: Return to Cinder and Bone is a forbidden jutsu triggered using the Cinder Mark of the Unpassed, any lingering soul fragments, and the caster's own flesh and blood. Once activated, the jutsu resonates with every single Cinder Mark in the vicinity, sacrificing both soul and vessel to incinerate the enemy to absolute nothingness.

"According to the records left behind by the Second Hokage, the Oma cult has been active around the Land of Rivers since the Warring States period, and there have been a few documented cases of this exact jutsu being used. Without exception, unless the target managed to evade the area directly or interrupt the jutsu mid-casting, no one has ever survived being hit by it." Yet Shingo had indeed been struck by that arrow of blood, and he had indeed survived. His injuries weren't even considered severe.

Tsunade exchanged a glance with Orochimaru, mutually and silently dropping the topic without another word. Both Tsunade and Orochimaru had instantly arrived at the exact same realization. Some extraordinary, unfathomable secret must be hidden within that boy, Shingo.

"Where did you even dig up these records from?"

"In the Senju clan's archives. Mito-sama permitted me to go in and review them after she heard about Shingo's situation." Tsunade gave Nawaki's shoulder a gentle pat, reassuring him not to worry.

"I understand. Once we head back, I'll speak with Obaa-sama." Tsunade didn't specify what she intended to discuss with Uzumaki Mito. But Orochimaru caught her drift immediately and gave a brief nod. As far as he was concerned, the matter ended here; he would never breathe a word of this discovery to a fourth person. … Shingo lazily stretched his arms and opened his sleepy eyes. That has got to be one of the nicest dreams I've had in ages.

Ever since arriving in this world, it had felt as though he were constantly being chased by time and fate. When was the last time he had slept this soundly? Shingo couldn't remember anymore. Blinking his eyes open, a clean hospital room came into view. The air carried a faint, bitter trace of medicine mixed with the scent of antiseptic, unpleasant, yet strangely grounding. The act of stretching pulled slightly at his chest, but there was hardly any real pain to speak of.

Outside the window, the sky was just beginning to turn pale, and a soft nightlight still glowed near the corner of the ward. Shingo glanced at the wall clock. 5: 11 AM. More than twenty hours had passed since he was rushed to the Konoha Hospital. Aside from that small serving of oden yesterday morning, he hadn't eaten a thing. Propping himself up on the bed without calling for the medical staff, Shingo spotted a tray of washed, fresh fruit sitting on the bedside table.

He reached out, picked up an apple, and took a crisp bite. Crunch, crunch. Not gonna lie, this apple wasn't half bad, sweet and refreshing. A hospital in the small hours of the morning was usually quiet enough to catch the faint breathing of patients, so even these minor noises quickly traveled out into the corridor.

When Nawaki pushed the door open, Shingo was leaning back against the headboard, one hand holding a thoroughly gnawed apple core while the other was already hovering over the fruit tray, reaching for a second round.

"Yo, Nawaki." Looking around and finding no trash can nearby, Shingo reluctantly set the apple core down on the table and bit into a fresh apple instead. Seeing him sitting there looking so unbothered, Nawaki finally let out a long, ragged breath. The shoulders that had been locked in tight tension all night long dropped, and the strain etched across his face eased significantly. Nawaki walked over to the bedside, pulled up a chair to sit down, and picked up an orange, starting to peel it.

Since the end of that battle, he hadn't touched a single bite of food either. While Shingo had been asleep and unable to eat, Nawaki had simply lacked any appetite whatsoever. Now that he saw Shingo awake, his own hunger finally returned. Popping a sweet-and-sour segment of orange into his mouth, Nawaki had never felt so light at heart.

"How's your body holding up? Anything feel uncomfortable?"

"Pretty good, actually. I reckon I'll be able to resume training in a couple of days." Seeing Shingo casually drop a banana into the mix and start peeling it, Nawaki felt the very last scrap of lingering worry vanish from his chest. As for Shingo's claim about resuming training in a few days, if he had heard that before living through yesterday, while he might not have argued out loud, a part of him would have questioned the point. Why push yourself this hard, as if something is chasing your heels?

Is all this frantic effort really necessary? Now, however, he understood. It was necessary. Damn right it was necessary. In the ninja world, nobody could ever predict what kind of disaster might drop on your head the next second. If Shingo had been even a fraction weaker yesterday, someone in their training squad might well be dead right now.

"Good, that's good..."

"How are the others? Everyone else is fine, right?"

"Yeah, Ami and Ruri both woke up last night. Shikaku and the others wanted to hang around waiting for you, but I chased them back home to rest. They'll probably all be over once the sun's fully up." At that, Nawaki paused, looking at Shingo with absolute seriousness.

"Shingo, it's really... really good that you're okay." Shingo smiled, then asked, "Who were the bastards that jumped us? And by the way, doesn't Konoha have a barrier system? How did they manage to waltz right in?"

"A crew of bounty hunters called the Black Cinders. Their primary target was me; you guys got dragged into this because of my mess. Hizuren-jichan and Danzō-jichan are still investigating how they got past the defenses, so there's no definitive answer yet." Seeing that Nawaki hadn't even bothered to change his clothes, Shingo figured the boy hadn't budged an inch from the hospital since yesterday. Shingo offered a reassuring grin.

"Alright, what's done is done, stop pulling such a long face. Look at us, we're both still breathing, aren't we?" Shingo didn't pry further into why the Black Cinders had targeted Nawaki in the first place. If Asuma could command a 30-million-ryō bounty, Nawaki, though perhaps not quite on Asuma's level yet, would certainly fetch a hefty price tag himself. Hearing Shingo brush it off so lightly, Nawaki finally broke into a genuine smile.

"Yeah, we're both still alive." As long as we're alive, that's all that matters. As long as we're alive.