I flew today. I also broke three ribs. The two events are not unrelated.

I finally figured out how to fly- years of, of study, of stabbing myself with needles, of having to remake seal patches because bloody ones have chakra spots and don't move evenly… of obsession. And. It was. Wonderful.

At first I didn't even think I had done anything. Our fort has several mountainside cliff-trails and hidden forest glades dedicated to training; I modified one for my training. It's near the cliffs, with a soft clay ground and tall, tall posts- taller than five men standing on each other's shoulders, and short stumps around the edges. I can scuttle up the posts very quickly, and I don't leave marks from my toe hooks anymore; I also don't leave chakra residue either. I learned to punch and kick mid-air there; I'm very glad I know the Kage Bunshin now- it was hard figuring out how to fight effectively just using straw dummies.

Every day, I practice a variety of things at my training grounds- flapping, landings, emergency drops. A while ago, I started practicing gliding- I'd climb to the top of one of the posts and glide down to one of the stumps; my toe hooks aren't actually for climbing. I have the least control of my chakra out of my sisters; Mama taught me how to focus my chakra by teaching me to sew. For my feet, focusing my tree-walking technique through needle-sharp claws on my toes is about as precise as I can get it. The hooks offer me more traction; the big one on the back of each leg is for fighting. Like a rooster's spur.

I was so stupid- I always forget that updrafts don't last very long. Still- I flew up up up, into the clouded sky, above the clouds; my mask pumping in air for my lungs, up through the cloud's wetness. I feel like I knew clouds were wet before, but- how can that be? I flew until the sun was setting in the sky- the clouds turned to orange and lemon and strawberry sherbet, wispy puffs of colored sweetness. It was cold, and clear, and bright. I'd never felt more alive, more- at peace. Home. In that place, more than any other- in that place, I felt home.

And then I blacked out.

…I have to do two things to make my suit and coat work properly- the first is that I have to ensure that every seal patch is correctly stitched, blood-free, and placed correctly. Blood actually has a unique way of fucking up my seals; there's a specific method of making the thread I use for my seal patches, and blood isn't part of it. The other thing I have to do is carefully control the amount of chakra that I'm molding; using the suit and coat requires a very specific amount- too much, and my feather-seals become erratic. Too little and they don't work. I have only so much chakra; molding it correctly is not an easy task. When I blacked out, it wasn't because of low blood-oxygen levels. It was pure, unflinching chakra exhaustion.

The last thing I actually saw before the blackness of unconsciousness claimed me was the grasping branches of trees coming for me. I have no idea how many I hit on the way down.

I think an ANBU-san took me to the hospital though.

That was sweet of them, but I'm sure I could have gotten there on my own. Eventually.