Today during my mission, my sword suddenly gave a soft little tremor. Not a warning, nor a longing... it felt more like a response. Perhaps to that small, warm thought in my heart. After the mission, I rushed home, eager to tell you about this strange feeling. But you just smiled, ruffled my hair, and said, 'My little Light, even your sword has learned to be coquettish.' And then... then we tumbled into bed. Your fingers slipped between my legs, saying I was already soaked through, wondering if I'd been thinking of you during the mission. I bit my lip and nodded, and you pushed inside with that thing I both love and fear. Ah... even now, writing this post, my legs are still weak, and I can still feel your shape inside me. It's wonderful. My sword, my body, my heart—they all live for one person now.