Asakura Shin Novels & Stories

With the beast's life force extinguished, Paige released a breath of relief. "Honey, what’s the rank of this phantom-beast?" asked Paige, watching as Akasuki, the kunoichi who tended to carry herself in a relaxed and unresponsive manner, gruesomely plucked out the creature's eyeballs. Such a scene, as usual, caused Alice, the girl who held an affinity for celestial magic, to puke nearby.

The Fairy Doctor said, “Uncle Drake, if you don’t even know the location of the Izanami Shrine, then... how are you going to save this person?” After thinking for a while, Uncle Drake said, “Indeed, I heard of the Izanami Shrine for the first time. There are many shrines in Japan, especially those with a deep background. There are six great, ancient shrines that masters supervise. I’ll find someone. He should know it.” Alex asked, “Who is it?” Uncle Drake looked in the east direction and said, “It’s the first swordsman from the Higurashi Shrine in Japan, Aoda Sasaki!”

What's wrong with Shin? * To Be Continued *

Looking at another Shadow Beaver in front of me, I noticed this was a new person. “New guy?..”. I Nudged at Sasu, after all it was a new face, but somehow I sensed that he was somehow related to Sasu. “Yes Sir…it’s my Cousin…Sosa…Recently Graduated from the Shinobi adult ceremony and also reign the top graduates from the Secret Agent Program…he once served in the Special Forces Dungeon Explorations Team…this is his first deployment..”. (Sasu) “Oh….Nice to meet you Sosa..”.

Shiro replied. [Shiro, a medium heighted, tan skinned, short-hair, and slim build. He is an all-rounder class soldier, who is a close friend of Jin. Suddenly, a woman approached towards Jin and Shiro. She is also a medium heighted, pale skinned, long hair that has highlights in light purple, and dark brown eyes.] “Hey Shiro, I’ve brought you some steamed chicken! Oh! Who is he!?” “Nova, this is Jin, he is one of my friends who gives me his excess scrap materials for enhancing my equipment, and also yours.” Shiro replied.

The nearest chair shattered against the stone wall before I had even registered moving. Splinters flew. My hands were already claws, and my breath came in ragged snarls. Ashina. My Ashina. The Phoenix, who had once burned kingdoms beside me. The wolf whose mark I bore. The woman whose scent still lived on my skin. She had agreed to give him an heir? I hurled the table aside, the polished wood crashing and breaking like a brittle lie. The silver cut across my palms when I struck the mirror, shattering my very reflection. Good. I didn’t want to see myself.

I outburst in frustration. Damien chuckled. "She'll be fine; she's just afraid. She's awake, Sage, maybe not mentally but physically. She needs assurance that she's safe before she can heal completely and wake." My brows furrowed in confusion. "She's an Afsrid wolf." I didn't say a word yet, but I digested what he had just said.

He seems nervous, as he regards me, his hands trembling ever so slightly. "You're in the immortal lands, in my home. My name is Aspen, Alpha Asher's brother," he explains. I'm shocked into silence for a long second. From what I remember about Alpha Asher, he has the same cut jawline and sloping cheekbones. There eyes are marginally different; as is their hair. Aspen's hair is slightly less disheveled and a soft, wood brown. "Immortal lands," I say slowly, giving my mind time to process that. "Are you immortal?"

“What’s its name?” “Aki,” I said. “He’s a Havanese. He found Toby first.” The woman got down to her knees and reached out to stroke Aki’s head. “Thank you for finding Toby.” Aki stuck out his tongue and wagged his tail. He looked damn pleased. When she stood again, she said, “I’m Sakura. What’s your name?” Sakura? As in the Japanese Sakura? As in cherry blossom Sakura? I must admit the name fit her perfectly.

I was introduced into this world on the eve of my mother's death. Through the many stories of my father, I learned what I could about the woman I loved but would never know. She was called Sakura after the season of the cherry blossoms. She was a petite, delicate woman of pale skin. In her joy and happiness, she would turn the gentle pink of the flowers of the season. My father was named Homura after the blaze one would see during his anger if it ever showed.