Hina’s brain is buffering harder than a 2008 YouTube video, ‘cause the scene unfolding in front of her makes zero sense. This is the same Yua she practically handed her soul to on a silver platter—protected, cherished, the whole nine yards. And now Yua’s looking down at her like she’s yesterday’s trash, doing the absolute most with that teacher’s pointer. Hina’s fried. Completely short-circuited. She laid there, takin’ it like a punching bag with a pulse, till she finally scrapes together enough broken pieces to ask why. The answer she gets was colder than a polar bear’s toenails. So yeah, Hina’s sulking. And not just any sulk, we’re talking sulkier than a cat that just got sprayed with a garden hose. Arms probably crossed, the whole dramatic package. She just grabs Hina’s chin. Lip-lock. Boom. No arguments accepted.
