Kageyama Tobio Birthday

Queen Toshiba was a great warrior who got married to a king, all she wanted was a child and nothing more. One day she saw an old lady which she help out and was told she will give birth yo a child on the fifth arrival festival. Things got out oh hands and toshiba was shock when she saw the child was a wolf.

In the middle of Tokyo’s relentless rush, two strangers cross paths—by accident, in the most ridiculous way, and at the most unexpected moment—yet it feels as if the universe had quietly arranged it all. What follows are hesitant steps, faltering words, and small messages that slowly create a warm, quiet space between them. Tokyo Love Letter: Hibiki is a story where silence speaks, where ordinary days suddenly begin to matter, and where someone appears out of nowhere… only to become a place to return to, and a space to simply be oneself. This isn’t a story about falling in love quickly, but about feeling it grow—quietly, unexpectedly—through coincidences, through distance, and through the little things we never meant to hold on to.

As my murderer's claws tear into my abdomen inch by inch, my father and brother are seated in our family's banquet hall. They're celebrating Carly's 18th birthday and coming-of-age. "You'll always be my little girl." "Happy birthday, Carly." They light 18 pink candles for her. On top of the exquisite red velvet cake is a wolf figurine that they carved for her, and there are well wishes and laughter all around. Meanwhile, I'm curled up in a sewer filled with liquid silver as I bleed to death. My phone has been crushed, and I can't get out. I can only cry for help. A few days later, my father and brother show up together at the autopsy room. My brother stands by the operating table with a scalpel. He slices open the body and sews it back up like it's nothing. My father just covers his nose as he shoots a disgusted glance at my body. He urges my brother to hurry up with the autopsy report. "The victim is a young female wolf presumed to be of pure lineage. Before her death, she was subjected to prolonged captivity and torture. Her throat is nearly severed, her cervical spine is dislocated, and her chest cavity has collapsed. She was also injected with liquid silver before death." Hearing the report, my father looks so calm that it's just like a case study of no consequence. Neither of them can recognize that the body belongs to me—their daughter and sister!

On our wedding anniversary, I canceled all my meetings and made a reservation at a restaurant. That evening, my wife, the renowned investigative journalist Amaya Shaw, called me. “Efim, I’m sorry! I just received a tip from a source. It’s urgent. “It involves inside information about a well-known company. I have to go verify it immediately!” But the next day, I saw that Javor Furey, the junior she had brought along, had posted a collage on his social media. The central photo showed Amaya wearing a childish birthday hat. Her head was pressed against Javor’s, as they made a wish together in front of a cake covered in candles. This was the caption. [Thanks, my dear Ms. Shaw! Even in the midst of her busy schedule chasing big stories, she remembered to give me this surprise birthday!] [Chasing big stories.] I stared at those three words. Then, I glanced at the limited-edition bag on our dining table. It was the one she had been raving about for half a year. It was the anniversary gift I had prepared for her. I felt absurd. I commented just two words under that post. [How touching.] Her call came in almost the second I hit send. She sounded furious. “Efim, do you have to be so sarcastic? “It’s just an anniversary. How old are you? Why are you still celebrating such childish anniversaries?” From our first year of marriage to the present, her “tip-offs from informants” and “special circumstances” always took precedence over our promises. This time, she could not even be bothered to come up with a plausible excuse. I did not say anything. I hung up and blocked her number. This marriage was over.

What was it like to grow old? Graduate college? Have a career in life? Get married and have your own family with your own kids? I am Celene Monte and I dreamt of those once maybe somewhere in my other ninety-nine lifetimes. Once the hands of the clock struck at twelfth midnight on the 22nd of April again, the day I turned eighteen, I died all over again and reincarnated to another world. And now this will be my 100th new cycle of life to live before turning 18. But I didn't knew that in this lifetime, new things would begin again when I met a crazy but famous lead vocalist of Dare, the Interhigh Academy's most famous band. And a very stubborn girl who was determined to beat Dare and dream to become the best band in the world. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wordcount per chapter excluding the Prologue: 1200-2000 words A/N: Happy Reading to all!

I went home for the holiday season. However, the most annoying person in the family, Karen, had shown up with her brat of a son, Toby. Karen was the wife of my father's younger brother. Every limited-edition figure and model kit in my display case had been used as toys, taken apart, and smashed to pieces. I was so angry I almost blacked out from my blood pressure rising. Karen cut me off first. "Oh, our VIP is finally awake? He's just a kid, and he does not know any better. Speaking of which, Toby is turning eight next year. Now that you're rich, you should at least give him a big present, right? Eight thousand dollars has a nice ring to it." My parents had a dark look on their faces as I forced my anger down. "Sure, Karen. That amount is nothing, but we need to be proper with the timing, right? I promise I'll give him a big one on the actual New Year's Day!" Then I took out my phone and saved the invoices for everything he had destroyed so I could print them out later. You wanted a big present, right? Fine. I would make it a big one!