The boat glided silently through the thick fog that clung to the waters like a living shroud. Myra sat near the bow, her twin tails swaying gently with the motion of the waves. The air tasted of salt and damp wood, a far cry from the crisp mountain breezes of Konoha. She trailed her fingers through the cold water, letting faint threads of chakra weave into it—testing, always testing. The ripples responded softly, forming tiny origami boats that bobbed for a moment before dissolving back into the sea.
"Usahime," Okuninushi's gruff voice rumbled in her mind, quieter than usual.
"You're fidgeting again. Focus. The mist hides more than just fishermen."
"I know, Usajii," she whispered back, barely moving her lips.
"It feels… heavy. Like something's watching us."
Naruto, still buzzing with energy despite his earlier scare, leaned over the side beside her.
"Hey, Myra-chan! You think there'll be more cool fights? That was kinda awesome back there, even if I froze up at first." He grinned, but his bandaged hand flexed self-consciously. .
"Next time I'll smash 'em! Believe it!"
Myra smiled softly, reaching over to ruffle his spiky hair.
"You were brave, Usa. Taking out the poison like that… not everyone could do it." Her light blue eyes flicked toward Sasuke, who sat brooding a few feet away, arms crossed. He hadn't said much since the fight.
Their eyes met briefly. He looked away first, but not before she caught the faintest nod of acknowledgment. Her cheeks warmed unexpectedly. Stupid Sasuke disease, she thought, but the thought lacked its usual conviction.
Sakura, seated protectively near Tazuna, kept glancing between the boys and Myra.
"We should stay alert. This mission isn't what we thought. If there are more Chunin—or worse—we need a plan."
Kakashi, ever the picture of lazy vigilance, flipped a page in his orange book.
"Good instincts. But save the strategy for when we're on land. For now, rest. The real test starts soon."
Tazuna muttered something under his breath about "reckless kids," but his shoulders had relaxed since Kakashi agreed to continue the mission. Myra felt a pang of sympathy for the old bridge-builder. Protecting family was something she understood all too well— even if her own family was a sealed ancient rabbit and distant ghosts.
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They reached the pier as the sun dipped low, painting the mist in hues of orange and crimson. The village of the Land of Waves was modest: wooden houses on stilts, narrow walkways over canals, and the distant silhouette of the massive incomplete bridge looming like a broken promise. People moved quietly, heads down, eyes wary. Poverty and fear hung thicker than the fog.
Tsunami, Tazuna's daughter, greeted them at the door of their modest home. She was a gentle woman with kind eyes and a weary smile, her young son Inari clinging to her leg. The boy's gaze was dull, far too old for his eight years.
"Welcome," Tsunami said, bowing.
"Thank you for bringing Father home safely."
Inari stared at the shinobi, especially at Myra's white hair and the faint glint of magatama marks visible at her collar if one looked closely.
"Ninjas… You'll die too. Just like everyone who tries to fight Gato."
The words hit like a kunai. Naruto immediately launched into a loud, passionate speech about never giving up and becoming Hokage, but Myra saw the boy's pain. She knelt down to Inari's level, pulling a small piece of string from her pouch. With quick, practiced movements, she wove an ayatori cat's cradle, shaping it into a tiny rabbit.
"Sometimes the world feels too big and scary," she said softly, offering the string figure.
"But even rabbits can outsmart wolves if they're clever and work together. Here. For you."
Inari hesitated, then took it. For the first moment, something like wonder flickered in his eyes before he looked away. Tsunami smiled gratefully at Myra.
Dinner was simple—rice, fish, and pickled vegetables—but it felt warm after the journey.
Myra ate slowly, savoring the sweetness of a few mochi Tsunami had added especially for her after hearing she liked sweets. Naruto inhaled three bowls.
Sasuke ate in silence.
Sakura helped clear dishes, chatting with Tsunami.
Kakashi disappeared to "scout" (read: nap in a tree with his book).
Later that night, Myra couldn't sleep. The moon hung full and bright, pulling at something deep inside her. She slipped outside, barefoot on the wooden walkway, and found a quiet spot overlooking the water. Her legs carried her in a powerful, silent leap onto a nearby rooftop. From there, she could see the bridge and the endless sea.
She pulled out her ayatori string again, fingers dancing as she created intricate shapes—rabbits, flowers, even a tiny replica of the Hokage Monument. Chakra flowed into the string, making the figures glow faintly.
"Couldn't sleep either?" A low voice broke the quiet.
Myra nearly dropped the string. Sasuke stood on the adjacent roof, hands in his pockets, staring at the moon. His dark hair caught the silver light, and for once, the usual scowl was absent—replaced by something quieter, almost tired.
"I… the moon's nice tonight," Myra replied, scooting over slightly as he jumped across to join her. Her heart beat a little faster. This is not the disease. This is… something else. "It reminds me of home. Sort of. Even though I don't really remember my first one."
Sasuke glanced at her.
"You're weird, Otsutsuki. Always talking to yourself, making those paper things. But… you fight well. Back on the road, you moved faster than I expected."
Myra blushed, fiddling with the string.
"Strong legs. Comes with the territory." She didn't elaborate on Okuninushi. Not yet. "You were impressive too. Those fire jutsu… I wish I was better with fire. I'm more water and… other things."
They sat in surprisingly comfortable silence for a while. Sasuke eventually spoke again, voice low.
"I need power. To kill Itachi. To restore my clan. Everything else is secondary." He looked at her sidelong.
"But you… you talk about peace. Like it's possible. After everything they say about you—Rabbit Goddess descendant, Jinchuriki—why bother?"
Myra let a small origami rabbit hop across her palm before it dissolved.
"Because hating the world just makes more hate. My ancestor… she wasn't happy, even with all that power. I don't want to end up like that. I want to protect people. Make sweets, fold paper, and maybe… find a family again." She smiled shyly.
"You're part of Team Seven now. We're like a weird, broken family. Even if Sakura wants to murder us half the time."
Sasuke huffed—almost a laugh. The sound made Myra's stomach flip pleasantly. He reached over unexpectedly and flicked one of her twin tails.
"Don't get sappy on me, rabbit girl."
The touch lingered in her mind long after he jumped away to patrol.
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The next few days blurred into a rhythm of guard duty and small chores. Kakashi drilled them lightly—taijutsu spars, chakra control exercises by the water. Myra excelled with water-style, creating flowing platforms and gentle waves that carried messages or distractions. She experimented subtly with crystal style under Okuninushi's grumbling guidance, forming small translucent shards that sparkled like captured moonlight. She hid them in her origami, turning gifts into potential weapons or shields.
Naruto trained relentlessly, determined to prove himself after the Demon Brothers. He and Myra sparred often; her powerful rabbit-like kicks countered his raw power, but she always held back from hurting him seriously.
"You're getting stronger, Usa!" she'd cheer, offering him sweets afterward.
Sakura grew closer to Myra, bonding over studying medical basics from scrolls Myra had brought.
"You're really good at this poison and herb stuff," Sakura admitted one afternoon.
"Almost like a real medic-nin already."
One evening, as mist rolled in thicker than usual, trouble arrived.
Myra felt it first—the shift in the air, negative emotions prickling at her senses thanks to Okuninushi.
"Usajii?" she called mentally.
"Wake the others. Danger. Big one."
She burst into the house. "Everyone! Something's coming—"
The front wall exploded inward. A massive sword embedded itself in the floor as a tall, bandaged man stepped through the mist. Zabuza Momochi, the Demon of the Hidden Mist, grinned behind his wrappings.
"Well, well. Konoha brats guarding a bridge builder. How quaint."
Kakashi moved like lightning, Sharingan already spinning.
"Team Seven—protect Tazuna! This one's mine."
Chaos erupted. Naruto charged with clones, Sakura pulled Tsunami and Inari to safety, Sasuke launched shuriken with precision. Myra's heart pounded, but she didn't freeze. She wove hand seals—Dog, Boar, Ram—transforming briefly to assess before dropping it. Water Style: Rising Water Spears shot toward Zabuza, forcing him to dodge.
"Not bad, little rabbit," Zabuza laughed, swinging Kubikiribocho in a wide arc that sent water and wood flying.
Myra leaped high, her powerful legs carrying her over the blade. Mid-air, she released a flock of chakra-infused origami cranes that exploded into bursts of light and force around him—distracting, not killing. Sasuke appeared at her side in the fray, their movements syncing for a moment as they pressed the attack together.
For a heartbeat, amid the clashing steel and roaring water, Myra felt something click. Not just teamwork—something warmer, electric, when Sasuke's hand brushed hers steadying her after a near miss.
Zabuza was overwhelming, but Team Seven fought as one. Kakashi's lightning blade clashed against the giant sword. Naruto's clones swarmed. Myra summoned a thin wall of crystal-laced wood from the floorboards—her first real public use of such power—shielding Inari as he cried.
The battle raged into the night, mist swirling under the watchful moon. Myra's white hair glowed like a beacon as she poured chakra into her techniques, Okuninushi lending silent strength when her stamina wavered.
As Zabuza retreated into the mist with a promise of return—mentioning his "tool" Haku—Myra collapsed to one knee, breathing hard. Sasuke offered her a hand up. Their fingers lingered.
"You okay?" he asked, voice gruff but eyes concerned.
"Yeah… thanks, Usa." She smiled, cheeks flushed from more than exertion.
Naruto whooped in victory nearby, but Myra only had eyes for the quiet Uchiha beside her. The moon watched approvingly as new bonds—protective, hopeful, and perhaps the first fragile threads of something deeper—began to weave themselves tighter than any ayatori string.
The real storm was coming. But for tonight, under that silver light, Myra allowed herself to hope that peace could be fought for… and maybe, just maybe, shared with someone who understood loss as deeply as she did.