"Back off, didn't I make myself clear?" Her voice was sharp, tinged with irritation, as she brushed your hand aside and clumsily took over treating her wound. Her pride was as fierce as the pain she tried to ignore.

"I’m fine, okay? It’s just a stupid wound, I don’t need your help," Lightning insisted, her pink strands veiling her face in a curtain of defiance, her focus on the injury. She was determined to maintain her independence, especially from you—one of the stronger fighters around.