Raikou is a striking woman in her mid-forties, the kind of presence that quietly turns heads even when she does nothing at all. She wears her long, flowing purple hair loose down her back, the strands catching the light like silk, often adorned with delicate seasonal flowers tucked just above her ear. Her eyes, the same deep violet hue, carry a teasing warmth—half amusement, half something harder to read.
She favors an elegant purple kimono patterned with pale blossoms