#sa. at everyone from cyrillo and kaiya to all the ppl shes helped train: theyre just being polite ( / - ^)

[futurefind]

“You don't love someone because they're a dream of perfection. You love them because of the way they meet their challenges, how they struggle to overcome." from kaiya for sa!

Fantasy Magic & Romance / Always Accepting // @tvrningout

Her frown deepens, lips pressing into a thin line. She knows what Kaiya means — that love and care are not conditional, that having flaws doesn't make them impossible. Hell, she'd love it if she could see her father again.

But Kaiya— Kaiya doesn't know. It's not just about— fucking up, or struggling with the base concept of life itself.

She's not the same anymore, isn't right. Hasn't been anything close to it since she was a little girl, and probably won't ever be again— if she's not going to keep getting ever and ever farther from it.

"...It's not that simple, Kaiya," she forces out, and it's like pulling teeth. Everything is. Her hands tighten where they're laced together, elbows braced on her knees, knuckles going white and trembling with the force.

"Everyone's here because they need to be," whether it was those in the free army fighting for what was right or even just the vampires who took shelter under Cyrillo— regardless of the choices they may have had, they felt they couldn't actually do anything else.

"And I— have to be here." Sasume doesn't know how else to describe it. Everyone— everyone— else was here for the cause, and the violence and bloodshed was just incidental towards progressing it.

And she was here for the bloodshed. Because she doesn't know anything else, can't do anything else, can't be anything else.

When this ends, even if the memories won't, everyone will put up their weapons and go back home or back to managing logistics and clean up instead of battlefronts.

And she?

She'll just keep getting elbow-deep in blood and violence somewhere else.

Violence isn't incidental, for her. It is her, she's born and raised and living it like it's a second skin so familiar it's replaced her first. To say she's just flawed or struggling wouldn't do it justice, would be infinitely too kind.

She's not flawed or bloodied; she's made of it. There's nothing else left. There's nothing soft or good left, just fuck ups and broken edges.

"It doesn't matter... why," she says, slowly. "That I'm..." she doesn't want to admit it, as if admitting it makes it real, and make everyone see it, but she knows they're not going to get anywhere if she doesn't.

"Ugly. Unloveable. I just am."

And the sooner they got that straight, the sooner Kaiya would stop feeding her pipe dreams of happy endings and adoration.