Gojo Satoru Novels & Stories

He comments as he collects the daggers from him. Akio shrugs, his long shiny hair shifting with the motion. “That’s what makes me so hard to catch.” He grins and for a moment it’s almost like he’s a younger version of Gojo Sensei but with better hair, better genes, and a shittier sense of style. As Sensei dismisses him, he winks at me and gives William a thumbs-up. Leave it to Akio to support opposing sides at the same time.

"He's a siphoner, which means he can't do magic." Oh. So Jun knows. Right then, he wonders what the hell is he still doing there? He seems to be useless as it is. He has so many questions and he still wants answers. For one, what does Joaquin need from him? There was no way he’s standing in front of someone whose existence is ambiguous if it’s just for show. Joaquin purses his lips, and then he nods, "What's your name, witch?" "Hiro Kitagawa," he answers.

The soul eater sits on the floor, covered in blood and something else that I don't recognize until I open the door further and step in. Looking down, I see a disemboweled baby torn to shreds. It's in so many pieces that I can't even tell for sure what it is, except for the baby bottle half buried in the blood and intestines. Suddenly, the smell hits me and I have to bend over as I lose my supper. Sandwich spraying everywhere, even on the soul eater. She looks up at me and smiles while holding an arm bone and then begins gnawing on it.

"I'm sorry but I've been busy." Nico's gaze shifted to me and he looked back at Higan with a smile. "You finally brought someone? Is he the one keeping you busy?" "Hi," I greeted nervously. Nico leaned on the counter, his platinum blonde hair falling over his eyes slightly. "Hi. What's your name?" "Jamie." "Nice to meet you, Jamie. I'm glad that you're together with Hig. He sometimes wanders about like a lost soul with all his talk about not being able to love freely."

“Yeah… Don’t look him in the eye. You’ll get cursed.” “Cursed? I heard that people lose it and hang themselves after they reach home”, whisper the students at the high school where the boy was attending. “Again… another year without any peace”, says the boy to himself. The new semester had just begun and the boy had joined the ‘Sakurano High School’ a high school in Saitama, Tokyo, Japan. “Ah~… Look who’s here!” comes a voice from behind the boy. “Tch… Not again…” says the boy to himself silently and tries to ignore the people who were trying to pick on him.

The shock on my face must be visible because Joseph chuckles beside me. "It's more like a Gokaku-geiko. Well it also has elements of Waza and Kakari-geiko. They break and bend the laws on Kendo in this dojo," he says chuckling softly,"Don't underestimate Atlas Winters, Mr. Fairchild." "I never do, Just Joseph." We laugh and shortly ad Asano finally joins us. "Gentlemen." In unison, we stand and bow. "Sensei." "Sakamoto-Kun, I believe you're going to thoroughly enjoy what you're about to see."

Hiroshi can see the anger that is very visible in the face of his fiancée and he can't understand why does Melissa acts like that. "baby, what is taking you both so long? Eiji it's been a while, how have you been?" said Satoru who got tired of waiting inside the room and went out to see what is taking them so long. Eiji saw Satoru and greeted him back with a nod and hug like how they usually do. While Yuuta on the other hand kept on staring at Melissa who is also staring at him.

Kenji Sato stood at the head, 6'1" of lethal grace wrapped in a midnight-blue bespoke suit that clung like a lover's promise. Porcelain skin stretched over high cheekbones, jet-black hair slicked back to reveal obsidian eyes that locked onto mine with unnerving precision. A thin scar sliced his left jaw, a whisper of violence. His mouth curved in a half-smirk as he extended his hand. I took it, expecting firmness. Instead, his grip lingered—warm, unyielding, thumb brushing my knuckle in a graze that sent unwelcome heat coiling up my arm. "Ms. Whitaker," he said, faint Japanese accent wrapping each syllable like silk over steel. "Your reputation precedes you." His eyes didn't waver, dissectin

Kōjin: “You kept my daughter alive long enough to come home. The flames remember.” He bows (full ninety degrees). We bow back. The summer after graduation just caught fire in the best possible way. Seras Himuari Nakamura has a God father, a god-tier armor set, and a dragon boyfriend who’s currently speechless with awe. And the rest of us? We’re just along for the blaze. Japan’s never been ready for this crew. But the fire god is. And that’s more than enough. The Armor Chooses June 15, 2029 – Mount Atago, dawn

Confidential Operations HQ. Kimura had summoned three of the school’s most athletic forces to the meeting. Sato Rishi: Captain of the baseball team, grip strength 2.4x national average. Takahashi: Track ace, can finish a 100m dash before you finish blinking. Tanaka: Judo prodigy, rumored to have once thrown a teacher (accidentally). Kimura flipped open his tablet with flair, revealing graphs, charts, and a Venn diagram shaped like a fist. "Gentlemen, I require technical assistance for the upcoming physical exam."