Jin Sagami Novels & Stories

The Lorraine I know has a unique wheezing laugh. "Don't mind her." The bald man, I'm pretty sure he's the bassist/cellist/drummer Satoshi from Blacklist! he glanced at the form I had submitted online perhaps to confirm my claim. "Fukuda Kagami-san, correct?" "Yes, sir." I heard one of the contestants gasp. "That's-" "Ahem!" A chic man with silky long black hair, Renjiro, a bassist/screamer from the former heavy metal band, Ainz glanced in the contestants' direction.

" Takamatsu said as he forced himself up to give where he was a closer look. On standing up Takamatsu felt a stiffing pain as some memories he was not familiar with gushed into his brain... Name: Takamatsu Henjiro Tribe: Okorua furuhashi Age: 18 Gift: the perceive hearer Potent gift: immune to flame

Silence and emptiness had mended the crips of the birds. Ejima rested her hands on her sling as she roamed the narrow path. As a novice in the shrine, she was not allowed to wear a sword, but that does not mean she was harmless. She was a sling master and could cause twice the damage as any good sword. War was not something anyone in their right senses would wish for. She has not seen one herself but she’d heard too many scary tales from her husband to desire one. The hunger, the killings, and the tragedy. It was too heavy a mental picture to draw, let alone wishing for one. The gods forbid we have wars in this harvest period. Ejima prayed as she rounded the narrow path and into the village

I giggled at his stupidity as he walked past me and out to the car. “Well, I am glad to see that Dillion and you seem to get along because he is going to be staying with you in Rome.” I turned around and held my breath as I looked at Jensen standing at the bottom of the stairs. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt that showed off his abs and chest muscles perfectly. A pair of ripped black jeans with black converse high tops and a black leather jacket thrown over his shoulder. He was breathtaking and I could feel my lust for him rising more and more. I calmed myself and walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Aww. Are you jealous handsome?” His arms came around my waist and p

Samehada (Naruto) Among the seven swords on this list, perhaps Samehada is the sword you are most familiar with and you don't need to go into detail about its origins. Samehada or literally means "shark skin" is the main sword of Kisame, Itachi's partner in Akatsuki. This abnormally shaped sword was passed down from generation to generation since the first Mizukage Era. Kisame himself is not the rightful owner of this sword, but Samehada (as a soul sword) judges the ninja worthy of swinging it.

The cripple at first tried to shun Chôbei's questions; but at last, touched by the honesty and kindness of his speech, he replied- “Sir, my name is Takagi Umanosuké, and I am a native of Yamato;” and then he went on to narrate all the misfortunes which the wickedness of Banzayémon had brought about. “This is indeed a strange story,” said Chôbei who had listened with indignation. “This Banzayémon, before I knew the blackness of his heart, was once under my protection. But after he murdered Sanza, hard by here, he was pursued by these two apprentices of mine, and since that day he has been no more to my house.”

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His gaze briefly paused on her exquisite facial features before saying, "You're one of the elites from the Shinto Way challenging the Martial Arts Alliance, aren't you?" "You have good eyes. No wonder you're so bold," the woman scoffed. "I'm one of the Three Primary Disciples of Shinto Way, Mitsuki Fujiwara. I have defeated half of the so-called prodigies from your country's Martial Arts Alliance. I was going to defeat a few more, but your challenge has ruined my plans."

She stared at me, trying to figure me out. “I’ll go a step further—if you let me keep Jezebel, in three full moons I'll take Marianna as my mate. She is a beautiful girl. It would be my honor.” I added, and I meant it. Marianna with her fiery red hair, and freckled face, was very attractive.

“We had gym together. You laughed at my terrible volleyball skills.” That felt like a lifetime ago. “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be,” he said. “Just listen. I think whoever did this—whoever sent you that photo—is trying to get inside your head.” “How do you know about the photo?” His mouth pressed into a line. “Because I got one too. Last month. A picture of me… asleep.” My skin crawled. “What do they want?” I whispered. He stood. “Fear. Obedience. Maybe they want to see who cracks first. But Jasmine…” He paused. “You can’t show them fear. That’s how they win.”