Yu Shimamura Novels & Stories

The commentator's voice was soon heard as he professionally introduced the two fighters. "In one corner of the ring stood Yuka "The Samurai" Nakamura, a highly skilled martial artist hailing from Japan. She has trained extensively in karate and muay thai, and is known for her lightning-fast kicks and powerful punches. Yuka is also a master of grappling techniques, and can quickly take her opponents down to the mat.

Its color was silver. His lock screen was an image from the Japanese anime Death Note; in particular, the genius character Yagami Light and his shinigami (reaper) Ryuk. His wallpaper showed a handsome man in a suit standing in front of a sports car. With the car, Dion would get on famously with her pa, Kate thought, but not so much with the suit. Mr. Lapuz, like majority of Filipino dads, didn’t own a single suit in his wardrobe.

I uttered and tried moving my body but I still feel heavy. “You don’t have to move,” she said with an accent I just heard. “Tachibana Kimmy.” Her hand touches mine as she sits on the chair near my bed. “Yuroshiko—I mean it’s nice to meet you.” Her eyes are almond shaped but you can see how genetics changed it that much. Her skin looks fair and is as beautiful as I expected. She looks exactly the older version of the picture. “I’m glad I got a chance to meet you. This is one of the best days of my life. I’m Ciana La Suerte.”

"I don't get it... isn't that a good thing?" We could've been together the whole day. She clawed my back with her fingernails, pulling at my shirt. "That's not..." But I'm not complaining. "What is it? What happened for you to throw such a fit?" I'm honestly surprised at how long this has lasted. I mean... "It's NOT a fit! SHE was selected to do it instead!" She. Ah, Shinohara Tamami. Widely known as Hami. She seems to be doing well for herself compared to middle school.

He stood behind Minho, watching as his son destroyed the room, raging and cursing like a wild animal. Mr Shima was a tall, strict man. Even though he was over 40 years old, he looked like he was in his early 30s with rich brown hair, tanned skin and deep-set brown eyes. The Shimas were a family of assassins and Shima Haruto was the current heir who was a disappointment to the family. Especially after murdering people, getting caught and being wanted by the government. "Good evening, sir" Minho quickly greeted with a respectful bow.

On the other hand, the shameless Sotomayor seemed to enjoy destabilizing her "cousin." She opened her gray eyes, and Yukio glanced at a magazine, flipping the pages with his right hand while his left rested on Sotomayor's lap between her hands. In front of them, Secretary Hibara seemed to be asleep. "Wow! What a beautiful sunset!" She exclaimed, catching Yukio's attention. "Beautiful!" The brown-haired man looked towards the orange-painted horizon, feeling the slight squeeze of Sotomayor's hands. "Still scared?"

Is this how l am spending eighteen years of my life. "SAKURA?" Hmm now l am hearing voices hah. Calling my name. "Is that you Sakura." I look up to see one of the girls l worked with. "What are you doing here." I could not respond as l observed her way of dressing. She was wearing a yellow kimono. Her hair tied in a lovely semi circle hairpins pluck and. She had some makeup on. "You.." "I am Hozumi don't you remember." She smiled . "Hozumi?"

Kawamura, the president of Haruki Group, who was a round older than Colin but very meticulous. Eranthe walked with several other female secretaries, and nothing seemed strange. Moreover, Mr. Kawamura was not the type to overly flatter others in any situation. He acted appropriately, treating Eranthe just as a colleague. Even when seating, he would casually give up the position closest to Colin for Eranthe. Besides understanding their broken English, Eranthe had also studied Japanese business language in college. Additionally, she occasionally encountered international guests at the hotel where she worked. She could manage basic conversations in various languages but found it challenging when

- Laini Taylor, Strange the Dreamer * * * * Ren Shibasaki didn’t turn around from his position before the gravestone of Tatsuya Fujiyama even when the sound of light crunch of gravel beneath shoes reached his ears. He merely stood there, eyeing the words engraved in the gravestone, with his hands stuffed in his pockets even when he knew Yuri and Tohya were both standing behind him. It was when Yuri sighed when he finally turned around. “I hope that we aren’t intruding,” she said apologetically.