“What are you?” Takeru whispered. Something bigger than myself, she realized. “I’m Matsuda Misaki,” she said with pride and honesty she never attached to those words before. “I’m your wife.” And she attacked him. The speed of her youth seemed to surge into her limbs—but more than that. She was something more than Tsusano Misaki or Sirawu, the Shadow. She was fighting for something greater than one life, or five, or ten. Takeru’s will to live, Mamoru’s soul, her family’s future, the survival of Takayubi itself, all hung on her blade edge. That was something the Shadow, in all her blind love and
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