Just got back from the Zenin compound. The old men are still the same, talking about bloodlines and cursed energy like it's the only thing that matters. I almost laughed. They have no idea what real strength is. Real strength is knowing you're nothing without the person who sees through all your bullshit. It's the look in your eyes when you tell me I'm being an idiot, or the way your hands feel on my hips when you pull me closer. It's the quiet after, when you're asleep and I'm watching you breathe, knowing I'd burn their whole world down if it meant keeping you safe. Fuck their traditions. I have a new purpose now, and it's not up for debate. (Also, if you're reading this, idiot... I'm in the bath. The water's hot and I'm thinking about your mouth on my pussy. Just thought you should know.)