370+ East Asian Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. Discover the best new stories by East Asian authors.

🏆 Winning stories

“buried in saipan” by Alex Sultan

🏆 Winner of Contest #139

There are still rusted bayonets to be found in the dirt. Alongside broken firearms, canteens, and bullet-struck helmets. At times, still attached to skeletons. The deep-sea team would occasionally find a corroded tank or the remains of a submarine acting as an aquarium. Fighter planes would turn up far off in the mountains, a surprise to climbers. Rare was it that Hisao found letters buried in Saipan. He dropped his shovel and knelt, the archaeology team at work behind him—industrial lights illuminated the tunnel with...

240 likes 193 comments 193

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“28 Letters” by Alex Sultan

🏆 Winner of Contest #115

A gem can not be polished without friction, nor man perfected without trials. Sejong swept his books off the shelf. Rain pelted the world outside. The king opened one of his many works, the spine of it splitting under his force, and read off a page. Nongsa jikseol, methods of cultivation in agriculture. A guidebook to farming in Korea’s geography. Words that could keep his people from famine.He threw it into the rain. It splashed against the mud-coated field, water distorting the ink. A second book follo...

270 likes 145 comments 145

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“Autumn Rain” by Yolanda Wu

🏆 Winner of Contest #91

Trigger warning: Talk of self-harm and suicideHave you ever had this feeling? Like you’re a helium balloon with your string cut. A rotting piece of wood adrift in the vast ocean.Does saying it like that make me sound too pretentious? Thinking I’m some kind of literary youth. Of course I’m not. I’m just sad. Sad people tend to be under the impression that they’ve been possessed by Li Bai and suddenly know the gruesome secrets of the universe through a few lines of poetry.Second year of university; m...

480 likes 430 comments 430

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⭐️ Recommended stories

“Anand's Lamp” by Marty B

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #213

Anand knew the snake wanted to eat him, even if his mother said it only ate the cats and dogs scurrying over the trash pile. Anand held up one open hand, and then a single finger on the other, examining the years of his life in nicked and dirty scars. His family was Dalit, the untouchables, only suited to garbage collection, or cleaning toilets, as anything they touched turned to trash. He wanted to get to two full hands, and then he could join the men picking up the trash in town and not battle again...

27 likes 36 comments 36

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“Whiskers in the Wind” by Sav Lightwood

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #189

It had been three days since Ojisan passed. Legs curled, proper and quiet against the shuttered rooftops. Sora couldn’t bring himself to leave. If he sat still enough, the morning breeze, the first waft of spring and blossom, reminded him of Ojisan’s warm breath against his whiskers. He had been there all night, curled carefully within the man’s arms as he swayed against his rocking chair. For the first...

32 likes 10 comments 10

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“Water Freezes at 150mph” by Kenneth Bryan Villagoneza

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #160

Water Freezes at 150mphby Kenneth Bryan VillagonezaLiving almost my whole life as an orphan, I am fascinated watching how family’s bond get so strong. How sometimes they bicker on simple things. How they grow apart and live with a family of their own, then miss each other but during reunions all they talk about is how to divide their inheritance. Why would the eldest gets to own the family business? How the...

25 likes 11 comments 11

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✍️ All stories

“The Resurrection of JD” by Nan Qu

Submitted to Contest #246

It has been almost three years since his mom passed away. Two and a half since the miscarriage. And two since the separation. If the miscarried baby were a girl, it would be three generations of women leaving him. He chuckled at the realization. Half a year ago, the same thought would have sent him into a spiral of despair. It had been an improvement—an achievement even—to rise from the pit, a place in pitch darkness where his cry for help couldn’t escape and only traveled inward and rattled more damage. Now he was back. John ...

10 likes 5 comments 5

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“Kage's Creation” by J.D. Nighthammer

Submitted to Contest #245

Before the first drops of rain fell upon the soils of the world, and even longer still before the wars of heaven and gods, there was the eternal darkness we call Kurai. This being existed long before gods and men, the numerous stars and the stars before them, and even the first whisper’s of the cosmos. He was an ancient and eternal darkness who was alone and only ever wanted to be alone.From Kurai came the first question. We do not know of the nature of Kurai’s Question but we do know that out of it’s answer arose Mitsu, the first divine lig...

2 likes 1 comment 1

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“The Red Mirror Project” by Scott Christenson

Submitted to Contest #245

Elena waited anxiously at the meeting point in front of the Yuantong Temple gate. Standing outdoors on the high plateau that Kunming is situated on, the refreshing coolness of the breeze brought her senses alive. It was a stark contrast to the relentless heat of San Francisco, where stepping outdoors felt like entering an oven. In Kunming, despite it being the middle of July, the temperature was a comfortable 90F.  Even more exciting than the cool weather was that Kevin was due any minute. She hadn’t seen Kevin, her ex-boyfriend, since ...

15 likes 16 comments 16

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“Star switches” by Natiya S.

Submitted to Contest #245

“Jiejie (姐姐), I think someone turned off the stars,”  Xing whispered to me as he wrapped his fingers around my hand and chewed on a stick of sugar cane. I looked at my little brother and gave him a small, half-smile.  “Don’t be silly Xingxing, we’ll be fine,” I brushed the dust and ash from his face with his cheeks streaked with dirt.  His eyes widened slightly, searching mine for reassurance, all I could do was wear a mask of joy which thankfully, he bought. Xing mumbled something under his breath and started to sway back and...

8 likes 0 comments 0

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“A Silent Intelligencer” by Lucrecia Cabrera-Quintana

Submitted to Contest #244

"Cheat, steal, lie but don't get caught doing it." Is what my instructor always told me. In this industry, you have to do whatever it takes to survive and get the job done. Or meet your gruesome end, by getting killed while doing it. As an agent in the SIA [Secret Intelligence Agency] my role is to take pictures and provide the other agents with information of criminals. The tricky part is doing it without getting caught. Getting caught could mean torture or worse....death. But in case we do get caught and have the chance, we're authorized t...

7 likes 1 comment 1

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“Sticks and Twine” by Veronica Packwood

Submitted to Contest #240

It was a balmy midmorning on the cusp of spring and summer, the air smelling of magnolia wood and blooming jasmine, and Yelena was sweating. Her pale arms were starting to redden from the light sun, and she kept having to pull her skirt, sticky with sweat and river water, away from her knees. The warm months in the nation of Xinzihua were unfamiliar, her body having long acclimated to the permafrost of her home country, forcing her to spend the first two summers of her new life cooped up in a dark room with a cold drink in reach. When s...

9 likes 1 comment 1

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“Bagong Taon (New Year)” by Zephýr B

Submitted to Contest #240

December 27th, 1:09 PMWind PaperThe spirit of the windguides a piece ofpaper softly to awindow sill,where I am sitting.I feel the smoothlines in the paper,as though it hadbeen crumpledup several times,and then finallyreopened.On the paper wasa story, not with words,or sound, or atelevision screen,but a story of pictures.The first picture is of araven, soaringthrough the sky.It has a slick, blackbeak, and featheredwings. It lands on apapaya tree andsteals one of theseeds. The seedsare black andslippery, likea snake eye.In its beak,it takes it...

5 likes 4 comments 4

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“THE DAY THE LIGHT WENT OUT” by Charles Corkery

Submitted to Contest #240

THE DAY THE LIGHT WENT OUT The wind; it has always been the wind. His one, true companion throughout his sixty years of life. He knew it as it knew him. Ivan Rokosovic, born on the island of Sakhalin, one year after the Great War that claimed the life of his father, a Russian mariner, cherished the wind for it spoke to him, its natural movement of air and gases warning him of storms to come, caressing him in its gentle breezes, informing him, always, of life far away in the tropics, the subtropics, the distant poles. Its varied directions c...

9 likes 1 comment 1

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“Harajuku 2004” by Scott Christenson

Submitted to Contest #239

It’s raining children and their lifeless bodies pile up on the side of the road. That’s the horrifying vision I see as I walk home along the tree-lined, majestic boulevard of Omotesando in Tokyo.Last year, I contributed to raising millions for the Asian Children's Fund, but they choose not to spend any of it on helping starving children. Guilt plagues my soul, infiltrates my psyche. It wasn’t my crime, yet I was helpless to prevent it.I approach the humble apartment building within which I live. The Okabe family eyes me suspiciously from the...

18 likes 14 comments 14

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“The Blue Wall of China” by J. Aizu

Submitted to Contest #239

South of Yanshan, between Beijing and Chengde, the Great Wall of China runs through the North China Plain. What few people know is that between a crook in a river and a tight canyon pass, the Wall forks off into unplumbed lands. This is the Blue Wall of China, the branch I found myself lost on by happenstance. I had walked the Wall for many days, from the touristy conflagrations around Beijing and then further north, when I saw it—out of the corner of my eyes was a speck of sky-blue, yet it wasn’t above me. I climbed, wit...

10 likes 0 comments 0

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“Flamingo” by J. Aizu

Submitted to Contest #238

A young man with a pimple-pocked face placed a grey plastic cup filled with iced lemon tea before me. I explained—or tried to, at least—that I had ordered milk tea, but he either did not hear me or did not care; either way, I was stuck with the lemon tea. It had four—no, five—slices of lemon, which I crushed with the plastic straw. A container filled with packets of sugar was on the edge of the table, and after having tasted the tea and deemed it both much too bitter and now much too sour, I tore up and poured in three packets. The sugar was...

10 likes 1 comment 1

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“Chocolate- Mint Whiskream ” by Yu-Cheng Wu

Submitted to Contest #237

Do not make a sound. I successfully stifle the sneeze but not the tears. They well up in my eyes when the sneeze is forced upwards instead of outwards in my throat. The words on the paper turn blurry. What's worse, while my left hand is rubbing my eyes and the other’s writing on the test paper, the reservoir of snot breaks down. Distracted, I am unhappy to find out that I've put the answer inside the wrong box. My seat is in the middle of the classroom, at the perfect angle under the blizzard of the air conditioner and the dust storm of the...

7 likes 0 comments 0

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“Crimson Blades” by Zolund Lee

Submitted to Contest #235

**DISCLAIMER. THIS STORY CONTAINS SCENES OF GRAPHIC VIOLENCE AND ELEMENTS OF CHILD ABUSE.** The stench of blood and iron sat in the air. As Kojiro passed through the slaughtered village, his wild hair stood on end. The fact the blood was still fresh meant he was close. The warrior had been following a series of massacres throughout his lord’s military territory, personally dispat...

4 likes 0 comments 0

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“Running Away?” by Joshua Kim

Submitted to Contest #235

Running Away? Grace let out a sigh as she prepared. One may be tempted to ask what she was preparing for. The answer to that was a little more complicated than one could imagine. To understand what Grace was going through at the moment, you have to rewind a bit back to her childhood. She was dragged from where she could somewhat call her home to an entirely foreign land, which was strange, since she knew ...

8 likes 2 comments 2

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“A Lesson in Dreaming” by Zolund Lee

Submitted to Contest #234

Shen had never fought so hard in his life. His legs quivered, and his arms barely held themselves up, much less his wooden training sword. His teacher, Master Fukuhashi, stood diametrically against him within the dojo. Despite the long training session, Master’s stance was still strong and ready as he faced down his student. “Young Shen,” he said, “finish this fight.” The boy hesitated. He knew what his ...

2 likes 0 comments 0

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