A disdainful gaze, as if looking down upon a bug.
“…Hanajima Sumire. You have quite the nerve.”
Isshin’s voice was cold enough to freeze soone instantly in place.
Sumire’s entire body was coiled up and tense as if she had expected that reaction all along, and that fact enraged Isshin even more.
“…What, did you beco mute during the ti we didn’t see each other? Co on, at least give a reply. You have a mouth, don’t you?”
“I-I… I…”
She tried to continue but stopped. Isshin’s grimace grew deeper at the sight.
Poke.
He lifted the index finger on his left hand and stabbed Sumire’s forehead with it.
“…Yeah, I bet you don’t have anything to say since you’re the sort of person who would betray her party mbers and run away to Korea.”
Sakura sneered as she watched the display as if tired of the whole song and dance.
“Pfft, there he goes again. I can't believe he’s pulling this crap in high school!”
“Oi! Isshin, cut it out! Don’t fight with a guest…”
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