“LIGHTNING SEAR!”
Arashi flinched at the monstrous roar, more out of instinct than anything. Those who had faced her in battle claimed she lived up to her name. A storm in motion. Facing down the terrible foe before her, she wondered if they even knew what a storm was. This was thunder and lightning incarnate, and he was bearing down on her.
She couldn’t stop herself grinning like a mad animal.
Her Echo showed her the pulses of lightning aether long before they struck, the paths they would strike into the battered earth, the safe places to stand her ground and continue keeping Byakko’s attention focused on her. The great blade in her hand was quivering with ambient thunderous energy. So were her arms. So was her heart. That was what she told herself, after the battle, after the storm broke. She was thankful that the wailing winds stole away her laughter. Only Byakko could see the light in her eyes. Only he could understand the terrible joy of the clash. A joy he shared, lost in the aramitama. Fury given form, the heart of the most terrible of storms. Meeting its match in a tiny, scaled woman and her blade.
