[There's a slight gasp as the knife cuts that much deeper, the sting causing her eyes to prickle as she blinks once, twice. She will not cry for them, she refuses.
Tuck the sword away, go for her communicator instead. Nearly every instinct Anri possesses is telling her to do this, but she forces it back. The rest is all Saika's voice, guiding her - this way, over here. She could grab a fistful of Diva's hair, pull - an effective, underhanded tactic.
Instead, she makes a grab for the hand at her throat, as quick as she can with as much pressure as she can exude. If she gets that far, she'll bend Diva's arm back at the elbow and get a bid for the upper hand.]