Tokyo Revengers Brahman Uniform Novels & Stories

It was Setsuna, his childhood friend, and knight in charge of his protection. She was wearing a long, black kimono that stretched to her thighs with an armor plate covering her chest. Two arm guards of equally dark colors rested on her upper arms. A bluish-black obi was wrapped around her waist and held her assortment of Japanese-themed clothes together. Seeing her, it was like he was facing a samurai girl. Which he believed was what she tried to project herself to be. A samurai warrior. He gave a small smile to her but otherwise did not speak before facing the old woman again.

He felt like he was losing his mind. The four of them were the toughest opponents Tyr had previously faced. In particular, he and Dark Shura had been at odds for a very long time. Tyr had tried incredibly hard to get rid of them, only to see them coming back from the dead! All of them were resurrected! Like Sachin, all three of them were wearing ancient armor, with the only difference being the color. Sachin’s armor was black, Andraste was gold, Dark Shura was red, and the Reverend was silver.

I unbuttoned two buttons of my shirt, revealing a bit of my chest, and folded my sleeves. After setting my hair properly and wearing my sea blue coat I took a whole view of myself in the mirror. I was looking a bit different today in a more handsome way. But I was thinking to redo all of this again and get back to my previous look. I don't want Tess to flirt with me shamelessly and suffocate me to death. But I knew that I didn't have any time to change and do my hair once again.

He signaled for him to come over. Upon hearing that, Nina halted her movements. Her hand had frozen mid-wipe. "Isn't Calvin supposed to be the heir to Prosperous Group? Why is the heir turned into someone who goes by the last name Smith?" It was many people's first time seeing him, but they could tell that the future heir to Prosperous Group had an undeniable, commanding presence. Callum's youthful appearance belied the maturity and authority in his demeanor. I turned a deaf ear to Nina and looked around the room, noting that Calvin was still nowhere to be seen. It seemed like the show was about to kick off.

I smirk She swats my arm. "Just don't trip on your beauty." My hair has been woven into intricate braids, small silver chains threaded throughout. When I turn, they catch the torchlight like falling stars. Around my neck rests the crescent-moon pendant my grandmother once wore. I run my fingers over it absently, my heart heavy. She should have been here for this. Bran, of course, looks regal without even trying. His tunic is dark charcoal, the silver accents subtle but powerful, stitched into the collar and sleeves. Over it, he wears a fitted black leather vest, a nod to his warrior's roots. He moves like the embodiment of night and storm, like a force of nature wrapped in elegance.

He wore a tattered dark-green skirt tied with a long red sash with a pair of massive Japanese drums hung on his waist and held a small mace in each hand. The other one must be Hikaru. Wearing a leopard-pelted loincloth and carrying a long sack on his shoulders, he was green-skinned and had an equally fierce face and a single horn on his forehead. “Those are definitely Raijin and Fujin’s Braves,” Wilt said. “They looked just like their gods when I visited their shrine back in Japan.” “Get ready, people,” Chief Bess exclaimed. However, the Storm Brothers didn’t move a muscle.

Probably in his mid-twenties, maybe early thirties at most. And he was dressed in traditional attire. A Keikogi. Specifically, a black tailored hakama paired with a kendogi, the traditional upper garment worn in the Japanese martial art of Kendo. An obi was tied neatly around his small waist, completing the set. He wore a full-on martial arts outfit. I wasn't expecting that. "Kyoto," Mr. Reynor said smoothly, stepping forward to shake his hand. "I see you're still as vibrant as ever." Kyoto grinned, his smile warm and genuine. "You don't look bad yourself, Donovan."

The other young werewolves cheered as the echoes went through the trees. "Go, Sophia! Show them your stuff!" yelled Ash, one of her closest friends and also part of the pack, tall and powerful, his dark brown hair glinting in the moonlight. "Look out! Here I come!" she giggled, tripping him into a gentle tumble, landing lightly on her feet. "Good one!" Ash clapped, grinning from ear to ear. Just then, her best friend, Daniel, joined the training circle. He had sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes that sparked mischievously. "See that? I can do it better, I bet!" he teased jollily.

I knew he was a Reaver, it was very easy to tell. I looked over at the other man, who had fiery red hair that was a bit unruly, and bright bronze eyes to accent his also perfect jawline. He was gorgeous, and had the most perfect teeth that he was flashing in what looked like a genuine smile at me. He was also wearing a suit, but he had surrendered the jacket and was just wearing a black vest over a metallic bronze button down. The pants were the same shade of bronze and I swear they were glinting, even in the low lighting of the Tavern.

Raiden stared at Shuntha for a bit too long studying his face, as he moved along the bars. “I don’t know, have you seen my brother?” Shuntha slid down the bars and fell to the ground, Raiden noticed that the guardsmen roughed him up. He tore off what remained of his shirt, and his back bled from the scratches. “What do you know, Shuntha?” Raiden made his way to the wooden bench across from the cell. He started taking off his armor which is peculiar, to say the least, it resembled Roman armor with its silver breastplates and shin shields. A plump guard handed him a towel and a silver bowl full of water.