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Discover weekly, the best short stories

Looking for a steady supply of east asian short stories? Every week thousands of writers submit stories to our writing contest.

430+ 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.

East asian Short Stories – Page 6 of 29

Crimson Blades

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 dispatched by the warlord to dispatch the threat. His hand tensed on his sword’s handle. All of the attacks had been against villages hosting the lord’s armies. Each t...

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Running Away?

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 that by her looks, she wasn’t in a foreign country, she was in where people would usually call ‘home.’ But for the past 10 or so years, s...

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A Lesson in Dreaming

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 teacher wanted him to do but not how to achieve that goal. He tried to analyze the situation, picturing the many different scenarios in hi...

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Punchy Nirvana Under The Tree

Submitted to Contest #233

A Punchy Biography. ---------------------------------------------------------------- "Once upon a time, in a little kingdom somewhere between the Ganges and the Yamuna rivers, I was born. Siddhartha Gautama, they called me. Yeah, I had a fancy name, but my old man wanted me to be a king or a great warrior or something. So, my crib was decked with gold, and my toys were probably worth more than your house. But you know what? I got sick of that shiny crap real quick. All right, so picture this: I'm Siddhartha Gautama, born into this pal...

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P.S. 1

Submitted to Contest #231

P.S. 1                                                 Salon Tango Mi Vida is buzzing when I walk in at 10:25 p.m.  Early, really, when you consider that the true maestros come well past midnight.  I have slipped away from the flat and taken a bus to the Teatro Colon.  Ev...

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The girl from yesterday

Submitted to Contest #231

Every year, in the third month of the Lunar year, Vietnamese flock to cemeteries in the occasion called “Thanh minh” period. Seldom do they leave modern life for traditional values like this occasion or Tet holidays. It is the day for people to remember their relatives living in the world of the dead. Everybody of every age visits graves. You can see old men with snow-white hair and bent back. You can also see naive kids who know nothing about the meaning of this day. The only thing they know is that they are visiting a surreal world which s...

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The Real Illness

Submitted to Contest #231

He lay inside the pink mosquito net on a rickety bed near the window, pale and thin. He would turn over to the window to welcome the new day. He would do it slowly afraid that the legs of the bed might give in. He did it every morning when the sun came out on the horizon. At night before sleeping, he would face away from the window. It had a benefit to him because when he coughed and needed to spit phlegm, he would just reach the tin can under his bed. It was better than to spit through the window and somebody would spot him. But the coughin...

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Barefoot

Submitted to Contest #230

On Skype, Mom’s eyes were closing, her drooping eyelids covered by silvery strands of loose hair.  She was slipping into a doze.   “Tell me about the Four-Cleanse, Mom.” I brought up the “Four-Cleanse,” and her eyes shot open in a blast of energy. Mom came back. “Ahh, I had just graduated, fresh from medical school. Who could imagine I got sent to the country, and for what? Walking barefoot on the field!  I was from Shanghai. ” Mom knitted her brows when barefoot was mentioned, as though walking barefoot wa...

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In The Snow.

Submitted to Contest #229

Suzuharu Yuto (スズハル ユウト), at 27 years old, was a man steeped in tradition, a vestige of a bygone era. With raven-black hair and a countenance that mirrored the classic ideals of Japanese beauty, he moved through life with a sense of purpose—his convictions rooted in the romantic notions of love that echoed through the pages of ancient poetry. Ehime Prefecture, with its serene landscapes and traditional charm, served as the perfect backdrop for Suzuharu's steadfast beliefs. In a world where love was often a fleeting whisper drowned by the c...

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Aka

Submitted to Contest #228

Oh. You’re awake. Bit sooner than expected but…oh well. Must have got the strength wrong. I’m not exactly experienced with using chloroform, only tried it twice so far, and once was on myself. Yeah, I know that sounds crazy but how else was I supposed to see if it worked? Amazed it did, to be honest. Thought it was just a movie thing. But it gave me the best sleep I’ve had in years. Kenji too. Doesn’t look like it did much for you, you were only out for about three hours. Your eyes look like shit. Crusty and bloodshot. Lucky for you, she won...

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Arranged

Submitted to Contest #228

ArrangedIt was 1974, and Priya was getting ready to get married to Rahul; a boy she barely knew. Her father and his uncle knew each other since childhood and worked at a factory together. The families were meeting together in their homes this weekend, and her mother asked Priya to cook the meal. It felt like an interview. She felt like her paneer tikka masala was going to be judged by her future mother-in-law, husband and future father-in-law as the last assessment before tying the knot. Priya’s mother, Darshana, prepped her for months ...

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Phoenix on wheels

Submitted to Contest #227

We put in blood, sweat, and tears for you to just give up now! It’s not about losing the match. You know I’ve never liked tennis! I muttered.  So what now? Don’t tell me you’re going to spend your time playing video games. A raspy and crickety train-like sound echoes behind me. At first, I think it is the rain.  A blur glides past like a lightning bolt.  The blur has bleached hair and his pants are drooped down below the waistline. He jumps, rotating 180 degrees in midair, his board glued to his feet, landing lightly...

7 likes 1 comment 1
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Jet Lag

Submitted to Contest #224

I lay in bed looking at the ceiling and sighed. I could not get to sleep. I knew jet lag was a thing but I had no idea how much it sucked until I had gotten to Tokyo. I sighed again and turned to the ceiling-to-floor windows that covered the wall next to my bed. The hotel room I was staying in was quite nice, almost like one of those gigolo penthouses you see in the movies but with everything in one room. The window outside showed skyscrapers that touched the moon and glowing neon lights that softly lit up my room in a blend of col...

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Bargirl

Submitted to Contest #224

Turning into Soi Cowboy is a full out assault on the senses. You leave the stink of noisy tuk-tuk traffic fumes and it’s replaced by hot oil cooking chili-flavoured street food. Its stirred together with beer and perfume with an undercurrent of sweat. The light of the coloured neon flickers across the bare skin of a host of girls. Rainbow tinged shoulders and stomachs and thighs. A thousand people chatter and the girls call out constantly.“You come with me? Show you good time.”Pay them any attention and they grab your hand, hit you...

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The Phoenix Tea

Submitted to Contest #223

The sound of rain hitting the tent perfectly mirrored the mood of a dejected-looking woman sitting inside it. It vibrated on the tent’s plastic material, mixing with the chatter and glass clinking of the other customers. The woman, whose name was Holly, gazed through the transparent plastic squares onto the flooded Busan street and imagined her own ambitions flowing away down the river of rainwater.A table full of men erupted in a roar of boisterous laughter, but it was the vibration of her phone that forced her out of her trance moment...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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