Mito could see the life stretching ahead of her - she would wed Senju Hashirama, Shinobi no Kami, and have a hand in building an entirely new village and way of life; she would be respected and powerful, and she knew Hashirama - she even liked him - he would take her guidance and hope to please her.

It would be a good life, and one that fit the shape of Mito - princess, kunoichi, diplomat, fuuinjutsu mistress - quite nicely, and yet . . . somehow. . .

Mito turned towards the open ocean, feeling the wildness hidden just below the calm waves, feeling the power itching at her fingertips and running cold in her blood like the deepest, most mysterious waters of the sea - Mito took a step, reaching out her fingers and smiling as the waves surged in answer, and wondered . . . what sort of life she would shape herself to in testing and struggles, rather than one that would fit around her with ease.