Samurai Books Novels & Stories

Becker sighed and beckoned her to the visitor's bench. - Come here. Uncomfortable to communicate across the table. Samantha followed him and sat down beside him, looking blankly at the teacher. He hesitated a little and began to speak: - I was looking for a book about the legends of the Sioux Indian tribe. Have you never read these legends? Sammy shook her head, feeling strangely uneasy.

My breath caught as I fingered a book with black binding, the name Samoht faded on the spine. I kept searching, the books clearly in no alphabetical order. Tysen. Laurel. Prith. Mandrag. Names in the history of werewolf medicine that had changed–and saved–so many lives. My heart skipped. My finger fell onto a dark green book, the faintest “I” outlined on its spine. The next held an even more faint “II.” And beyond that, a “IV.” I couldn’t breathe, my lungs suddenly filled with centuries of dust and the weight of repressed knowledge. I coughed, trying to stifle my surprise; my shock; my satisfaction.

Roy nodded absentmindedly, vision frolicking over the shelves with beginners interest. "Want to check out some books? Let me help you." Jeremy swayed in the direction of a random shelf with a bar hanging―Japanese Fiction written in caps. Jeremy pulled out a white and black designed tiny, thin book from the compactly stocked shelf and waved it at Roy. Roy saw Jeremy coming over with a book and caught it's cover design. A simplistic art with profound hidden meaning. The name 'Birthday Girl' conveyed a sense of aesthetic complexity. "This is a thriller short story by Murakami Sensei. He is a widely known novelist across the globe. His every work is phenomenal." Jeremy said, voice dripping with

“She helped picked and recommended these books I’m bringing back for Lucio. He’s definitely going to love them and will not be sleeping early.” Damian shook her hand briefly because Sam then immediately pulled her hand away. The look he gave her made her want to walk out straight from the shop but she held herself. “Will you be taking the books with you, Ms. Samantha?” The staff who assisted her asked, interrupting their exchange to her relief. “This is the total of your purchases. Will it be cash or card?”

Azrael said something in Japanese language that no one understood but I knew because Azrael had said it a few times when he was reading me a book. My heart is in your world. It was reference from an old author called Ushio Sakamoto. The book was called ‘Hearts with no bound’. It was about a humanoid male doll whose creator’s dying wish was for the doll to find a purpose to his existence, simply put to find a human that made his core beat and protect that human. He found that emotion with a female human. It was a classic piece that I had Azrael read repeatedly to me because it was romantic but tragic that it made me cry each time.

Sam claimed, recommending me books that would have my undies soaked. "Me too."

The other two having joyfully accepted the offer, Banzayémon ran downstairs, and went up to the strange Samurai and saluted him, saying-- “I pray you to wait a moment, Sir Samurai. My name is Fuwa Banzayémon at your service. I am a Rônin, as I judge from your appearance that you are yourself. I hope you will not think me rude if I venture to ask you to honour me with your friendship, and to come into this tea-house to drink a cup of wine with me and two of my friends.” The strange Samurai, who was no other than Sanza, looking at the speaker through the interstices of his deep bamboo hat, and recognizing his enemy Banzayémon, gave a start of surprise, and, uncovering his head, said sternly--