Yoshiwara Lament Novels & Stories

"C-Can we really do it, Haruto? We're talking about Yua, Sakura and Toshiro. We've been friends for years. Can we really ruin their lives?" "They took Aera's. Why can't we ruin theirs?" he asked. "If it were up to me, they would all be six feet under. Did they even feel any remorse? No. Toshiro was happy she died remember? He told you that you're better off without that whore. Sakura and Yua called her a pest. They threw dead flowers on her grave and said good riddance. How can we spare black hearted people like that? Not to forget what they did to Ryu yesterday"

I touched the pearl with my hands and smiled at the feel of it. "You look stunning." I heard him say, leaning down so that our face was at the same level. "You look good too," I said, with a smile. "We are running late." He said, bringing his hand to wrap around my wrist. "Of course," I said, turning around. "Lead the way." * * * "Wow," I said, when I looked at the huge chandelier hung on the wall, cascading down with shimmering light that sparkled the marble floor.

Judging based on how the event was unfolding now, it seemed like money couldn’t solve the problem as well. At that moment, Mr. Yamamoto felt an unpleasant sense of disappointment. He looked at Charlie with reddened eyes and coughed. “Mr. Wade, I repent my mistakes. Please. I beg you, spare me…Please don’t take away what little left of my dignity…You and I are both martial artists. I believe you’re able to understand my feelings…”

Only god knows if that’s the situation the alpha wants. Knowing him, it probably is. Yamato pulls at his tie, his neck feels a bit constricted. He pulls back his pheromones as he bows apologetically to the omegas. “I lost my temper and released my pheromones without regard for you, I apologize”. His shoulders stiffen in guilt. “Ah it’s okay— ”. “It’s fine, we’re— ”. “No, I should apologize. I should not have fallen for their provocations and lost my temper like that”. He bows lower. “I was wrong”.

After seeing his movements, the Shinkage Way experts showed horrible expressions. This man was completely disrespecting the Shinkage Way! Mitchell narrowed his eyes at the emotionless Harvey. “Mr. Yashiro, I think this man must be at his wits’ end!” he whispered quietly. “Even if he’s a God of War, he’s probably just showing off right now!”

Asahi threw a file containing documents on the table, and Lazarus grabbed it as he read the contents. "A what? An update? For fucking what?" "Didn't you remember your pledge back then?" Asahi sighed as he sat on the couch. "Pledge what?" Lazarus raised his brow. "Your pledge to Hajime Yamamoto's grave." Cedric added nonchalantly. "Oh," Lazarus laughed— "right." "We're still on it?" "Of course." Lazarus beamed. "You and you," Cedric pointed at Asahi and Lazarus before drinking the glass of whiskey— "fucking childish."

Previously, I felt betrayed and hurt. The man who I thought I owed my life had now turned out to be the one ruining it. That thought made the pain worse. "The beautiful love which I felt from you has completely disappeared, Jihun. It completely has!" He chuckled darkly hearing me and with a smirk he stated, " Most things that disappear are beautiful! " ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Please don't forget to drop a gem or a comment and let me know what you all think! S. Jones

Dead! I flick the Katana sending blood flying before I sheathe it again. “Baron to issho ni yaritai koto o yari, horitsu o uragiru yuki no aru subete no hit oni messeji o okurimshou. Kore o Onryo no shiwazada to tsugeru.” (Do what you want with Baron, send the message to all who dares betray the laws. Tell them this is the work of the Onryo.)

he said, letting the words fall like stones in still water, “I want to borrow a line from a certain idiot: ‘As long as you’re alive, there’s still a chance to change everything.’” Applause roared like a tide. And though most eyes were on the stage, only a few noticed when Kimura lifted a single fist toward the sky, just for a moment, as if answering something unseen. On his walk home, the wind was gentle, the road quiet. Then—thunk. Something smacked him on the head. “Oww—HEY!” He looked down. A rusty USB drive lay at his feet. Labelled, in fading ink: [Yamada’s Original Embezzlement Records. 1998]