Uru whimpered, nudging her head against my cheek. I adjusted my position and let Uru climb into my lap; she began to lick my face.
I giggled. "I'm okay, see? No tears. I guess I'll trust Yoshi and the others. Storm said I should love them. Maybe they aren't so bad. If they all leave me, I’ll still have you right?" I asked the white wolf.
"WOOF!" She began to jump in my lap.
"Okay, okay. Yes. You'll stay. Ah, I have wolf slime on my face, ahh!" I giggled.
I tried not to consider the fact that I’d died and now potentially had a part of Storm Yuna inside me. At this very moment, I felt alive and renewed. I was experiencing the joy of having my own familiar, something I had convinced myself I would never get to feel.
I guess with all that had occurred, maybe everything had happened for a reason. I just had to take this new path and see where it led.
The path of Crimson Storm.
"Now that you're awake, you can leave."
My eyes darted to the men around the room, pausing on Akihiro and a white male named Quillian. They both had scowls on their faces and I was worried they would snap at my father any second.
After I showered, my mother and I had a talk. It wasn't anything major, just me giving her a brief explanation of what happened after I left the bar that fateful night. I left out the vision I’d had during my short death. Telling her wouldn't change anything and even though she was my mother, we hadn't developed a strong enough bond for me to share what I considered a precious secret.
When I was younger, I always envied those who had amazing relationships with their parents. I'd given up on my father long ago, but a part of me still longed for my mom’s affection and guidance. But those wishes were never granted and anything longer than a five minute conversation was just awkward.
Once I'd reassured her I was okay and we would figure this thing out, we'd moved to the living room where the others were. There was a long row of shoes by the front door; the men must have removed theirs as they came in. I appreciated that even those who weren’t Japanese knew to do so. When I was settled in the middle seat of the sofa and Uru was curled up on my left side with her head in my lap, the guys formally introduced themselves.
The stern sounding Voice One was Akihiro Tomashuna. He was a twenty-five-year-old combat instructor who trained shifters and humans across Homatomashi. He was the youngest certified trainer and was well ranked for his age. He was actually the second most requested instructor in the country.
He stood at 6'5” and had long gold and orange hair that was currently worn high in a ponytail, the same way it was that first night. The black ribbon had been changed out for a white one, but still had gold lettering that reminded me of ancient runes.
He wore a simple white shirt that did practically nothing to hide his chiseled frame. His biceps stretched out the thin cotton material and the lines of his pecs made him more of a distraction than anything. He wore black jeans and white socks. The entire time his arms were crossed and he looked like he'd kill someone, but my instincts told me otherwise.
Akihiro's eyes were a forest green and his skin was slightly lighter than Yoshi's and was evident that he must spend a lot of time outside. His lips were a darker shade of pink, and it looked like he applied lip balm to moisturize them.
Then there was Yoshimitsu Ohashi. He worked as an advisor, listening to the people's troubles and concerns and was trying to implement change across Homatomashi. He was what some of the townsfolk called a “peacemaker,” projecting a calm or relaxed persona most of the time.
He also stood at 6'5” and was still wearing his navy blue shirt and loose black pants. He had taken the white ribbon out of his hair, allowing the black tresses to fall down his back, revealing its true length. Based on my memory of his hair when it was worn up and comparing that to Akihiro's ponytail now, I could tell Yoshi's hair was the longer of the two.
Yoshi's enchanting sapphire eyes looked brighter in the well-lit room than they had in the guest room I'd been in. The bits of gold that swirled in his eyes were still there, but less visible now. I didn't know if it was caused by his magic or if he was born with them like that, but it was really cool to stare at. That probably made me look crazy, but it was a chance I was willing to take.
His pink lips were sensuous and his complexion was very smooth and gave him an overall look you'd expect to see in model magazines.
Voice Three belonged to a man named Malachi Jinn. He was twenty-six, 6'4,” and was half African and half Japanese. In Nokamato, it was rare to see people of races other than Japanese and Chinese, but Homatomashi welcomed all cultures and encouraged interracial dating and marriage.
He was one of Storm Yuna's top guards and trained as an athlete in our country, competing in events like the Olympic Games. He mainly participated in swimming races, but was also a well-known runner and had competed in previous competitions as an alternate when one of the athletes became ill or injured.
He had really short black hair that resembled a mini afro, but without the same texture. He described it as jerry curls, explaining his hair was just naturally curled that way, but when he stretched it out to show us the length if straightened, it was about as long as my index finger.
He had a slim build like Yoshi, but his biceps were solid like Akihiro’s. He had a broad torso, giving me the impression he did a lot of weight training in addition to his cardio workouts, but his overall figure fit him perfectly. He wore a black top, army jeans, and black socks.
His skin was like milk chocolate and his lips were coated with lip balm, making them shiny. What I loved the most about him were his vibrant blue eyes. They were a pale sky blue which was absolutely gorgeous, but unusual for an African to have.
When I asked him about it, feeling afraid to offend him, he laughed and said he got it from his mother just like the rest of his good looks. I knew right away he was the joker of the group and he seemed to be the least worried about the situation.
Voice Four was actually named Itsuki Watanabe. He was twenty-four, and 75% Chinese and 25% Japanese. He was just an inch shorter than Malachi, at 6’3”.
He lived in a different country till he was twenty and received a scholarship for magic casting and weapon enhancing, which he described as a skill where you'd infuse magic into weapons so the users could cast spells in the same elemental family. It was a rare skill normally found in merchant families, but he was lucky to have the trait. He was Storm's second guard and he and Malachi had normally been with Storm 24/7.
He had silky white hair with purple highlights that just reached his neck; it was currently spiked. Malachi had mentioned that Itsuki was the shy one of the group, and people never expected him to kick major ass which he was fully capable of. He wore traditional clothing similar to what James would wear for his training, but the way he wore it looked more casual than uniformed.
His facial features gave away his Chinese heritage, but he had hints of Japanese traits, like his complexion that was paler than that of his relatives as he explained. His eyes were dark purple and his lips looked a tad dry; I noticed he had a habit of biting his lip which he confessed he did when he was nervous.
The man I had called Voice Five was Haru Yuudai, a twenty-three-year-old who stood at 6’4”. He had a thick Japanese accent and told me he wasn't very fond of fighting. He was the 'healer' of the group and had been recruited by Storm herself. Haru didn't go into much details as to why he was enlisted, but my gut told me there was more to him than met the eye.