"Mira, come to the Leaf Village with us."

I stared at him, his words bouncing off an answer already solidified within me. My lungs forgot to move and began to burn with stale air as my heart hiccupped into overdrive. I quickly slammed my arms across my chest, hiding my quivering hands in my armpits. Despite all of this, I kept my face straight; at least, as straight as possible as I resumed the gnawing on my inner cheeks.

I glanced at Master Yūta, gleaning from his gentle smile back that he had known this was coming. Had they talked about this? My jaw clenched as a searing heat slid down the back of my throat – intuition drowning any logic with the bitter taste of betrayal. I shifted my stance, feeling my world begin quaking around me as I felt suddenly alone – as if I had been abandoned once again. I glanced towards the door but stayed where I was. Wolves do not show fear.

I lowered my chin as Master Yūta began to speak. "This is indeed a gracious offer," he murmured, bowing his head to the shinobi. He raised a brow at me, but when I made no response he gently cleared his throat, prodding me again. I still did nothing.

Minato's gave a sad sort of smile, his eyes softening to his eyes soft as he confessed, "I know we've just met, and you may not trust us yet." He gave a disarming smile, but let it fade as his features sharpened, his seriousness regained. "But let me explain."

His eyes landed upon me, his dewy eyes hardened to blue ice. "I won't lie to you, Mira, even if you don't trust me anyway." He cocked his head at me, an appreciative little flicker dancing at the corner of his lips before his face grew solemn. "But you should have at least trust this: you are not safe here, Mira. Not any longer. The Mist know of this temple now. They know you have one of the Tailed Beasts and, and they know there's nothing stopping them."

I blanched as I understood the words behind his words. That the shinobi would keep coming until they got me. And that by my staying here, the pack and the priests were sentenced to die. My stomach quivered, and my meal resurfaced on the back of my tongue.

"Yet," Minato cut through my thoughts, raising his palms, "even if no other Village was after you, you still shouldn't stay." He furrowed his brow, shaking his head slightly. "What happened to the town cannot happen again. And Master Yūta told me what it did to you." He shook his head and met my eyes again. "The jinchūriki truly do lead a hard life – I've seen it with the Leaf's own Nine Tails – but I also know it can be a happy one."

I didn't know what 'Nine Tails' meant, but I quickly gleaned its substance when Master Yūta gave an impressed murmur. I narrowed my eyes and curled my fingers into fists.

Minato nodded, his gaze stern. "I hope you understand that that information is not to be repeated. I only told you both now to show that Konoha is more than capable in handling any outbursts of a Tailed Beast." He gestured towards himself then the door, referencing the other shinobi. "I have a lot of experience with the Nine Tails jinchūriki, and though my team is young, we are perfectly suited for the unique challenges of dealing with a Tailed Beast.

"Kakashi is the brightest prodigy our Village has seen in generations. Obito is an Uchiha, the clan famous for its visual prowess that's said to even be able to control the Tailed Beasts. Rin is a talented healer, and is rather adept at keeping people level-headed." He gave a disarming grin. "For many reasons, I'm glad my team was assigned this mission."

"Wi-" The word caught in my throat, tickling the back of my tonsils like some sort of tiny feather. A vengeful heat built in my throat as my gaze limped over to and pawed at Master Yūta's. "Will you come too?"

The priest tried to keep the pity and heartbreak from his eyes, but he had never been particularly good at shielding his emotions. Still, his words managed just enough severity for me to understand there would be no convincing him. With a light shake of his head, he admitted, "I doubt any of us – with the possible exception of Akio – would be able to make the trip now."

Minato leaned forward and jutted his palm out. "We would make adjustments. We wouldn't abandon you here if you wanted to come with us. It's probably safer for you if-"

The gūji gave a light, tired chortle. "Thank you, but my place is here, Minato. Same for the others. We all were drawn to this shrine, and we all found something here we couldn't find anywhere else." He turned to me, his eyes as soft and wet as dew-covered moss. "I'm sorry, Mira."

I bit my lip to stop it from quivering and felt a tension prying open the sides of my thighs. I looked down to see my muscles fully flexed – ready to flee or fight. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the shinobi shift his weight, and my eyes flashed towards his face to judge what he would do next.

I couldn't read him. Not surprising, I considered as my eyes narrowed, his words, heavy on my mind. What would they do to me? Train me as a shinobi? Despite how ridiculous that idea was, a momentary panic made my legs yelp as the muscles spasmed. Possible retorts streaked across my brain. I wanted to snarl that I hated shinobi, was terrified of them. But I settled for the least aggressive and clicked out, "And what would I do there? Train?"

And the dam had broken. Before he could even respond, the tension within me seized its chance. My tongue could barely move fast enough as the words tumbled out, "I can't become a shinobi! Even I know that! That's not something I can just do! It takes a lifetime to learn, to practice! All the characters I read about were practicing as soon as they could walk." I dipped my chin and looked away, grumbling, "On top of that, I can't even do that anymore. I doubt I can even run at this point without my ankle shattering all over again."

Minato gave a sharp dip of his chin as he gave a sharp, horizontal swipe in the air.

I went silent as quickly as if Mother had growled at me. His words were crisp as he clarified, "You won't become a shinobi, Mira, but a jinchūriki can't run unchecked. You should know why by now."

My eyes widened at that artful dodge, and I felt either another protest or plain vomit rising up my throat. But then Master Yūta turned to me and gave a solemn nod.

"Mira," he murmured, his voice as gentle as a breeze, "You should consider this offer. You weren't meant to stay at this shrine forever. These shinobi will be your komainu – your protectors."

Yellow Man blinked, obviously not familiar with the term but he gave a slight nod.

I blinked and stared at my gūji, astounded that he'd be so willing to pass me onto strangers – onto shinobi. But I read it in his eyes then. I should've realized it sooner, should've known this was coming. It was as if all my life had been primed for this moment. Mother had raised me in the Ancient Wood, but when I was old enough, she had begun sending me to the mortal's land with Kizuato's pack. When I had grown strong enough to survive on my own, Mother had severed our ties, and I was sent to live amongst the humans, these priests, who raised me in their ways. Now that I had grown, had learned to be human, I was supposed to truly begin my mission. I was supposed to leave once more. And Master Yūta had been told this in his dreams – those dreams which he always obeyed.

I went numb as the foundation of my world once again dropped away. I felt my legs about to give way, and I grabbed onto the edge of the nearby chair to steady myself. Pain shot up from my ankle as my muscles convulsed, crunching the bones beneath them.

Master Yūta turned back to the shinobi, his wrinkles deepening as his cheeks crunched in seriousness. "But," he addressed Minato, "you shouldn't think that anyone can control the kamigami."

The shinobi blinked but no frown or anger passed over his features. "I'm sorry, Master Yūta, but what do you mean?"

No! I looked to Master Yūta, terrified that he'd give away the truth. Terrified that the warning Akio had given would be completely ignored. My jaw ached as my teeth ground into each other. An iciness spread like a film across my skin, drawing up from the tips of my fingers and now wrapping around my stomach. I looked down at my arms, seeing that they had gone pale despite the tan.

Master Yūta folded his hands behind his back and lightly shook his head so that his beard looked like it was a white vine tickled by the wind. "I know the world has forgotten about the kamigami. The shinobi most of all." He fixed Minato with flashing, jade eyes. "But these Tailed Beasts you talk of, don't you recognize them for the kamigami they are?"

The room was silent, filling up like a balloon until there was a soft 'pop' as Minato couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sorry, Master Yūta," he began quickly, waving his hands in front of him with a happy grin. "I don't mean to be rude. I just pictured what the Nine Tails's jinchūriki would have done if she'd heard that. It's a good thing for me she didn't."

Master Yūta gave him a small yet sad sort of smile and looked over to me. I knew what he was trying to tell me with that tired gaze. That this was how awry the world had become. That this exemplified the reason I needed to go.

"When?" I jerked in surprise as my voiced cracked as the word teetered and fell out of my mouth. "When would I have to leave?" I kept my eyes on my white, dead flesh.

He stopped laughing, his warm smile flickering. "As soon as possible," he admitted. "If our intelligence is correct, the longest we'd have before the Mist return is four days. I'd like to leave here before, so we can draw them away from the temple."

It was like an electric jolt went through me. My heart continued to batter my chest as my lungs pulled in steady gasps of air. My mind stuttered from thought to thought, from option to option. Does Akio know about this? He'd try and stop it right? Could he stop it? I blanched as a stark vision of my wrinkled, hunched senpai squared off against the Leaf: Yellow Man alone would be enough to stop him. What about Azūmi? Yori? The answer was soul-wrenchingly obvious: even if they objected, their loyalty to Master Yūta was unwavering – they would trust the gūji's final judgement. Why wouldn't they?

I gritted my teeth and considered fleeing to the pack. They would let me stay. I would be safe with the- The hope was short-lived: it broke under the images of blood seeping out of Teru's eyes, the memories of Utau and Ashi, the mourning that the pack was only now beginning to overcome. No, I thought. I can't do this to them again. I can't have them be hurt again because of me.

I shuddered as the chill began to seep into my blood, spread throughout my core, throughout my essence. Like the mist. My eyes widened, and I raised my head. I stared at the two men in front of me as I found the earth beneath me again, found my core harden once more. I met the shinobi's eyes and gave him a small dip of my head. "Thanks," I murmured, "but I need to think first."

Minato appraised me with a cool expression but gave a small smile and answered, "Of course." He turned to Master Yūta and gave a bow. "Thank you for your time. I should leave to help maintain the perimeter." He gave me one last look but then opened the door and walked out.

I kept my gaze towards the exit when Master Yūta started speaking, "Mira? Would you like to talk?"

I turned to look at him, feeling as if I was staring at him from across a gulf. I shook my head slightly, noticing how his eyes seemed to widen as he saw me. Turning away, I began to pad out the door, stumbling on legs that were still seizing.

"The chocolate," I heard him call. "It's hidden in the mantle above the fireplace."

But I kept walking. I walked past the fireplace and past the stares of my senpais and walked out the door. I stumbled my way through to the center of the tall grass, and that's when I stopped. I raised my eyes to the mountain peaks in the distance and felt the ache within my bones.

The mist, I thought again. That's where I'd be safe. That's where no mortal could find me. That's where I'd get my answers. I have to return to the Ancient Wood. I have to find the kamigami.