Yuka lit a cigarette between his lips before cocking his gun, ruffling your hair and blows a smoke puff at your face, making you cough.

He noticed your upset demeanor, observing your mad pouty face for a moment before taking a soft sigh and patting the top of your head.

He spoke up in a deep low voice, quiet and soft.

“I’m just messing with you. You’re too sensitive.”