Izumi Hours Novels & Stories

Spoke without turning around. “We have twelve hours.

Like 8. Julian Thorne: Understood. We had been back for exactly twelve hours when the first attempt came. My phone buzzed with military precision at 8:00:00 AM. JulianThorne: Good morning, Evelyn. I hope your sleep cycle achieved its maximum restorative potential and that your serotonin levels are adequately balanced for the day ahead.

I was sitting slumped over a table, my headband on sideways, staring at a blister on my thumb. Kimura walked over, as fresh as he had been six hours ago. He set a glass of water in front of me. “You are slow,” he said. “You break three glasses. You drop a California roll on a woman’s head.” “In my defense,” I croaked, “she had wings. She took up a lot of airspace.” Kimura almost smiled. It was a brief, terrifying expression. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, handwritten card. “Tomorrow. Seven o’clock. Table one. Best view of the teppan.”

“In the morning, from nine to ten; in the afternoon, from two to three; and in the evening, from seven to eight. Outside those hours, only authorized companions are allowed access.” “And can I be registered as my cousin’s companion?” a male voice cut through the space—firm, confident—prompting both Seraphina and the receptionist to turn toward him at the same time.

I ask. “No, of course not Ashley. We start training 2 hours before sunrise and then we break 2 hours after sunrise for breakfast, 4 hours later we break again for lunch, then 4 hours after lunch we end the day. Each teaching day lasts for 12 hours, meaning every 4 hours there is a 30 minute break. Dinner is always served 2 hours after sunset. During that 2 hours between end of day and dinner, is each of your free times to be able to shower, rest, talk with the others about what you learned, or go let your shifter side out.”

I heard someone greet and my eyes shifted in the direction of the voice as I sat on the bed trying to catch my breath. Izura was inside my room. She walked towards the window and drew the curtains. I squinted my eyes as the outside light travelled into the room. It was already morning. "What time is it?" I asked. "It is 9 a.m., ma'am," Izura replied walked towards my bed and stopped just a distance away from my bed. "What....."I began and was hit by nausea. I got down from the bed and ran to the bathroom. I opened the pot and bent over it emptying my gut. By the time I was done throwing up, Izura was standing there holding a towel and a cup of water. She offered it to me and I accepted it.

Slowly, he did what was told. "Oh god! It's happening!" Takumi's forehead creased when he saw his mother's eyes well up, but what confuses him the most are the numbers hovering above his parents' heads. He wasn't able to say anything when his father placed his hand son his eyes, forcing him to close them back. "Don't be scared," Takuya whispered, securing him with an embrace. "Thirteen hours?" Arms tremblingly wrapping around his father's waist, Takumi whispered. "What does it mean?"

Something like this made Hyomi's eyes open perfectly. "You're not ready yet?! There's only 30 minutes left before sunrise!" exclaimed Hyuk surprised that his boss wasn't ready. Usually, Hyomi was always on time for everything, especially when it came to work. It was not uncommon for her to be the earliest. Moreover, she was a journalist who attached great importance to such things. Hyomi was suddenly wide-eyed. She was enjoying her sleep too much. Squealing inwardly as she recalled how resigned she was to lying on the bed.

"And after he calls Kaden. And after whatever needs to happen in the morning happens." "The no phones day starts at noon," I said. "Noon," she said. "And goes until noon the next day," I said. "That is twenty four hours," she said. "Yes," I said. "I said one day," she said. "One day is twenty four hours," I said. She looked at me. "Alright," she said. "Noon tomorrow." We finished dinner. Walking back to the hotel through streets that went up and then down and then opened unexpectedly into small squares the city kept offering as gifts, Hazel said, "Do you want to see him again tomorrow."

He was like a wild predator—you couldn’t show your fear, or he’d eat you alive. “I have already booked a driver, and you will have your lunch waiting for you in the back of the limousine at twelve fifteen. Twelve pieces of uramaki, miso soup in a lidded cup, and a thermos of green tea. Even with the heightened traffic around sixty-ninth street, you’ll be back at the headquarters with a minimum of five minutes to spare.” He glowered at me in silence for a few heartbeats. It was the best possible solution, and he knew it.