Remi Horimiya Novels & Stories

Harvey replied calmly, "I told you if I should cripple your hand before you surrender." "You idiot!" Haruka yelled as fear and terror twisted her face. Her makeup kept melting off her once beautiful face. "Do you even know who I am? I am Haruka Ito, the representative of the Far East Division of Hexagon Inc.! I am a member of the Five Royal Gates and daughter of the Way of Fire! I am Haru Miyamoto's lover, representative of the Island Nation's Martial Arts Alliance, Shinto Way prodigy, and the leader of the Six Schools. Even in Country A, I have countless people to back me up!

Hearing his words, she looked up with teary eyes, her voice filled with gratitude, "I will never forget this favour you've done for me.” In that tender moment, as Ahil meticulously wiped away Hiya's tears with the handkerchief, the air seemed to hold a subtle fragrance of care and understanding. His hazel brown eyes, framed by those enviable long lashes, bore into Hiya's, expressing an unspoken reassurance. His lightly brown hair, casually scattered on his forehead, complemented the overall charismatic aura that surrounded him.

"Shit! I hurt you!" ********

"Vicki!" I looked over to find Benjamin running towards me. The soul eater saw him as well and, giving a deep guttural scream, bounding off the wall to race towards him. Benjamin raised an arm holding out a pistol I had never known him to have. He immediately fired off rounds at it, but it was fast, paranormally fast. It dodged each bullet by bouncing off the walls and continued to race towards him. They slammed together toppling to the floor and grappling around on the ground. The gun went flying towards me almost as if it were offering itself to me. It was a fortuitous movement that would never happen again in a million years, and I was not about to take it for granted. I swooped down and

It’s weird, it’s like she took the darkness with her. Emerson and Brjent stare openly at me, Farkas seems just as blown away as I am by the strangeness of it all. “Who was that?” He asks no one in particular. “That was Nanako Jimmu, youngest daughter to the first emperor of Japan and a very deadly member from the Band of Blood. This changes the entire situation Santiago, this isn’t good, not at all.” Emerson says breathless.

They opened the doors and the young man appears, he is tall with long wavy reddish hair, his manly face with intense black eyes; although he is quite handsome his expressions are cold and dominant, his frown a little frowned and serious, his eyebrows of the same tone bushy but not exaggerated, what most captivated me was that red hair as intense as the fire or the sunset, I must admit that it is quite attractive that shade of hair so interesting, so much so that the maidens were more perplexed at his appearance, although personally Satoshi for me is more attractive, I'm just curious about the hair and his gestures so serious. He comes closer and closer to me, his look is so threatening that

" 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

Unsurprisingly, Zen finished Father Clarence’s quest first. However, Remi and Charlie were still far from reaching their quota. Akiko and Liu Feng did not mind helping Zen to gather a few more slimes when the teen said he wanted to collect a few more green goo for salve crafting practice.

"I don't know. You are different than I am. It took me a while to realize that not every method you learn from the book is gonna work." This is quite hard. Kurai is used to threatening people because he finds them untrustworthy, using violence as an answer but things don't always play out. When it comes to understanding his emotions, he knows nothing. "By the way, you saw Yuto's memory right? What exactly did you see?" Kurai finished his meal which led the shikigami to clear it off. "Not much except for the fact that he's not japanese nor chinese like we initially thought. He's korean." He said.

The flickering torches lining the chamber walls did little to ease the coldness in the air. The room—part occult sanctuary, part tomb of forgotten rituals—held centuries of whispers embedded into its stone. At the center, seated on a throne carved from black obsidian and bone, sat Solmyra, her hollow eyes fixed on the curling smoke that rose from a shallow bowl. Her silvered hair cascaded over her shoulders, glowing faintly under the runes etched into the ceiling above her. She looked tired, though the word didn’t quite suit her. She was not old in the traditional sense—Solmyra had long outlived the body she was born in.