Fubuki Novels & Stories

Picking up a stick on the floor, I gathered my hair together and tied it together to keep it out of my face. I waited for the right opening, waiting for one of them to lower their garred. Just one and the rest will follow. Listening carefully , watching them, one turned his attention away from me and there was my opening. Breaking out in a sprint towards the one who looked away they called out to him reaching for their guns but I was already in front of him hitting him with the yoko tobigeri (Side flying kick). That will keep him busy, with the force I approached him he should be down for a while in pain clutching his stomach.

The air in the living room had grown thick with tension, heavy like incense smoke during a forbidden ritual. Fugishigoro’s hands remained on Kyomi’s hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh beneath her tiny shorts as she straddled him. The Yokai Seduction card lay forgotten on the table, its provocative text now reality.

Resting on his hip was a single, long Nodachi a curved greatsword. "You bring the filth of the crust into the heavens, Anomalies," the Shogun’s voice resonated, smooth and perfectly synthesized, echoing off the invisible atmospheric dome above them. "You shattered the Marianas with brute force. You cracked my floorboards with reckless momentum. But you cannot outrun precision."

Every movement was etched in her mind—clear, broken down, analyzed. The first, Kenji, was fast—maybe too fast. Japanese, shorter stature, lightning footwork, razor-sharp control. He struck before others even read the cue. Exceptional reflexes, and he understood one crucial thing: he wasn't the lead—he was the shadow behind it.

Charlie nodded and asked, “And what are the origins of you four ninjas?” Aota replied truthfully, “We are all members of the Fujibayashi family. The Fujibayashi family is one of the major ninjutsu families in Japan.” Charlie was intrigued and he asked him with great interest, “Since your family is a relatively large ninjutsu family in Japan, then why should you be working for and taking orders from the Takahashi family then?”

You know those guys in your school? Not the normal ones, but the fuckboys? Yeah, those ones. If you don't know those guys, then you may just not know the meaning of the term fuckboy . Generally, a fuckboy is actually an attractive, funny guy. Usually you wouldn't want to admit it, but everyone knows it, even himself. A fuckboy has an unhealthy amount of confidence in himself which helps him to lead girls on just for hookups. He'll say that he's really into you but doesn't want to deal with an actual relationship. He thinks about himself and only himself all the time but is nice to most people.

Back when he was first learning Lucifer had told him that "Wind starts the weakest, but becomes one of the strongest." Sabu took a deep breath. Trails of winds surrounded his arms and legs. Another lesson he had recieved came to mind. '"Wind is kind of like a multiplier. The better you move, the better it can help you."' Zach's voice echoed in Sabu's mind. Sabu pulled out a wakizashi and shot toward Yukina while spinning. He slammed the small blade against hers, using the momentum of his movement to add weight. Yukina was knocked back. 'Not one, but two humans have managed to push me back.'

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Looking at the cartoon character kiddie size she was holding, K Whatever nodded, “Yeah, you’re design was also reasonable, unlike mine.” “Even I don’t understand Hanabi choosing that scythe.” Garfield shook his head. “So do you want to try that out? I hope you can master her scythe as soon as possible, hundreds of souls you still need to have.” K Whatever nodded, “Yeah, and not much time at that. I have to master this tonight.” “Great!” Garfield clapped his hand, “Well then, should we get started?” ~ KL •ARC 3• TSUBE

I walked towards him as he is seated majestically on his golden throne with his wizard Harrod standing next to him. Harrod makes all kinds of medicines and black magic for father. "Father, you sent for me." I say with a small bow. "Yes." He replies. "What is it father?." I asked politely. He faced Harrod and gestures at him to speak up. Harrod turned to me and bowed. " My prince, i'm afraid there's no cure for the king's deformed hand in this kingdom." He says. I glanced at father's left deformed arm and sighed. He always uses a golden glove to hide it.