Light Yagami Side Profile Novels & Stories

the boy thought to himself as he decided to approach Natsu. A boy with a goldish yellow hair who was taller than Natsu came towards him, he wore a green top and black trousers as he then introduced himself, "Hi, I'm Yami" the boy said as he approached Natsu. Natsu looked at him and saw the boy bring out his hands to shake him as he was introducing himself. Natsu felt suspicious but decided to go with the flow. "Oh I'm Natsu, it's nice to meet you" Natsu said as he shakes Yami's hand.

She spilled cola on Kenichi's guitar when he didn't return her interest. Agawa- From Iceland and a college student, his ash blonde hair is natural. He plays bass, doesn't like listening to those he doesn't respect. Only respects people who have decent skill in music. Is popular among the ladies and has a fan club. Hagihara- A bald and tall young man who wears tinted glasses, is he a fan of Satoshi or he simply just shy? He tends to wear all black and his deep voice can unnerve many but unlike his appearance, he's actually a kind fellow and is often cleaning up Akemi's messes and misunderstandings. A mediator.

Every second of every single day. My name is Yamamoto Aito and I am the most popular, most handsome guy in the school. I have platinum blonde hair which I'm too lazy to comb so it's always messy but people tell me it makes me look sexy. I have eyes like crystals. Brown but glassy. A slim pointed nose, pretty pink lips, and smooth clear pale skin. Not a single blemish could be seen. Thanks to my family's good genes.

But then, unexpectedly, she saw Gin standing before her, his presence a sudden comfort. Gin Hiroshi, Akira's childhood best friend, had been inseparable from her since their early days. Growing up together, they shared countless memories, and now, both sixteen years old, they attended different schools but maintained their strong bond. Gin's silky silver hair partially covered his eyes, and he harbored a secret affection for Akira. Despite his strong feelings, he concealed them, unwilling to risk their cherished friendship. His deep black-brown eyes shimmered like stars, complementing his slightly pointed nose and lips tinted with the color of a ripe apple. In many ways, he embodied a comple

"You're so shameless in front of me? Good! Very good!" Yang Xiao's face turned cold. He stared at Shinichi Miyamoto with a flash of cold light in his eyes and attacked him like a ghost.

Exiting the meeting room, exhaustion hits and I sigh in relief. Beside me, Miyama's practically in zombie mode. He’s shuffling his feet as we head through the lobby of YGM Company towards the entrance; the bags under his eyes not entirely hidden by the frame of his glasses. Chuckling softly, I put my arm around his shoulders drawing him closer and he sighs, settling into my touch. "Please tell me we can go home now..." He whimpers and I couldn't help but laugh.

I walked to the door and opened it with a casual smile. The delivery guy standing there was younger than usual — probably 23 or 24. He was tall, maybe 6’2”, with an athletic build, messy dark hair, strong arms, and a cute, slightly nervous face. His uniform shirt stretched across his chest, and his name tag read “Liam.” He was holding the sushi bag, but the second he saw me, his eyes went wide. He tried to stay professional, but his gaze immediately dropped to my deep cleavage, then lower to my bare thighs and the way the robe was barely covering my ass.

And there stands Miyamura… Oh. Wow. His existence frustrates me so much that I forget that this guy is actually…hot. Like really really hot. His hair is down. It’s a bit long, it brushes against his shoulders— his bangs rest against his forehead, falling into his eyes. His very pretty lilac-colored eyes. He’s wearing a pale blue sweatshirt and…sweatpants. Grey, loose sweatpants. Is he…? Yes, he is. He’s going commando.

The natural light streaming in from the window illuminated his office, adding a bit of life to the otherwise cold office. Today, Liam wore a rare captivating smile, paired with a dark, buttoned-up shirt, the sleeves casually rolled to the elbow. Despite his carefree appearance, he exuded poise and precision. He leaned forward to pick up a photo frame at the far end of his table, causing his black, slightly curly hair to frame his forehead, right above his bushy eyebrows. His tanned skin and polished demeanor added to his charm.

And warm. Christian wore a crisp black shirt, sleeves rolled up just enough to hint at forearms I’d spent too many nights thinking about, paired with dark grey pants. Liam, of course, looked like a GQ ad—charcoal suit, open collar, a watch that probably cost more than my bakery’s rent in New York. Showoff. Two men were already seated at the long low table. I recognized Renji from the hospital—still sharp-jawed and smirking, with that arrogant look in his eyes. The other was taller, older, he had a quiet presence that made you straighten your posture.