Senshi (A Katana Novel)

by Cole Gibsen

  But I didn’t get to finish. Even in my semiconscious state, I could hear the crash of the beam and feel myself being thrown from Kim’s arms.

  But instead of hitting the ground, I fell into darkness.

  23

  Japan, 1492

  Senshi looked at the dead man on the floor and pressed her palm to her nose. The smell of decay made her stomach clench and she struggled not to vomit. How long had he been dead? From the smell of him, she guessed at least a week.

  “Are you all right?” Yoshido’s lips twitched as he fought to keep from laughing.

  Senshi drew her shoulders back and dropped her hand from her nose. She could do this. She had to do this. Tilting her chin up, she stared Yoshido in the eyes. “I can do this. The corpse smells no worse than Zeami.”

  Yoshido chuckled. “Right.” He turned to leave but hesitated in the doorway. His eyes darted between her and the corpse. “I could stay if you like. I would not tell the others.”

  Senshi knew he’d only said it to be kind, but his words cut into her skin like needles. “How many of the other samurai have you offered to stay with when it was their turn to sleep with the dead?”

  His eyes dropped to the floor. “None.”

  “So why offer to stay with me? Do you think I will not be able to handle it? That I will be reduced to tears moments after you leave me?

  “No!” His eyes widened. “It is just—”

  “That I am a girl?” Senshi offered. “That I am smaller and weaker than the rest of my samurai brethren and therefore need to be coddled?”

  Yoshido opened his mouth, closed it, and then laughed. “Of course I don’t think that. You are one of the fiercest fighters I know. Have you considered that maybe it was I who longed for company?”

  She made a face. He could say whatever he wanted to spare her feelings, but she knew better. As the only girl in a clan full of boys and men, she had to fight double to earn their respect—which wasn’t much. Tonight she faced another test in her path to become a samurai. Tonight she would prove she did not fear death or the dead by spending the night with a corpse. She didn’t need Yoshido messing it up by treating her like a baby. She would prove to them she was worthy of becoming a samurai. “If you are so lonely, go to the pleasure district. I am sure you would find suitable company there.”

  Yoshido blinked before a smile crept onto his face. “Perhaps I will.”

  “Good.” But as soon as she said it, Senshi had the awful mental image of Yoshido in the arms of a courtesan, which caused something to shift uncomfortably in her chest. When she spoke, her words caught in her throat. “Now go.”

  Yoshido raised his hands in surrender. “As you please.” He bowed, his long black hair sliding across his shoulders like the folds of a silk kimono. When he straightened, he smiled at her, sending an odd mixture of sparks and chills down her spine. Strange.

  Senshi watched him back out of the room. After he slid the rice paper door shut, she released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Ancestors help her, he was infuriating.

  She sank to the floor and crossed her legs. The sooner she fell asleep, the sooner she’d wake up and this night would be over. She cast a look over at her companion, a lifeless middle-aged man with a long black beard that reached the middle of his bare chest. Death had turned his skin the same gray color as the skin of an onion. Aside from his smell, Senshi was pleased the corpse didn’t bother her. This was going to be an easy test. She eased herself to the ground, closed her eyes, and waited for sleep.

  “Senshi.”

  Senshi pushed off the floor and glanced around the room, searching for the source of the whisper. Her heart beat the pounding rhythm of a taiko war drum.

  “Seeeeeeenshi.”

  There it was again—her name—uttered in the faintest of whispers. Was the corpse speaking to her? She shook her head as if to dislodge the idea from her brain. That was impossible. But still, she eyed the dead body in front of her and took a cautious step back. “Who is there?” She was proud of herself for sounding more fearless than she felt.

  “It is I,” the voice whispered back. “The ghost of the dead farmer Hotaka.”

  She continued to stare at the unmoving corpse. Something strange was going on. The voice that spoke to her sounded muffled and far away, almost as if it came from outside the room. Senshi pivoted on her heel and that’s when she saw the shadow of a figure crouched outside of the door. The silhouette of a curtain of long hair gave away his identity.

  Senshi pressed her hand to her lips to smother the laugh. She knew she should be furious with him for not leaving when she’d told him to. But as much as she tried to muster any anger, it simply wouldn’t come. “Why have you come for me, oh spirit of the farmer Hotaka?”

  “To warn you,” the voice whispered through the walls.

  “Why?” She grinned and settled back onto the ground. “Am I in danger?”

  “No.” There was a pause. “You are the danger.”

  Her? Dangerous? Senshi didn’t know what game Yoshido was playing, but she decided to play along to prolong his presence. “That does not sound good. Who am I a danger to?”

  “There is a samurai. His name is Yoshido.”

  “Ah yes.” Senshi inched closer to the silhouette on the other side of the wall. “The irksome one. I have heard of him.”

  The voice sputtered a couple of times before continuing, making her laugh. “Yes, well, be cautious with him.”

  “I thought you said I was the dangerous one?”

  “You are,” he answered. “Be cautious of his heart. You hold it.”

  Senshi’s breath quickened and, for reasons she didn’t understand, she trembled. Suddenly, this wasn’t the game she’d thought it was. “I-I-do not understand.”

  The black outline of a hand appeared on the wall next to her face. When Yoshido spoke, he spoke clearly, no longer hiding his identity. “I love you, Senshi.”

  The room tilted on its side. “Is this part of the test?” It had to be. There was no way someone as handsome, as kind, and as good as Yoshido could love a girl from the pleasure district.

  He laughed. “That was not the reaction I was hoping for.”

  She shook her head. “You know where I come from, Yoshido. You know what I was.”

  “No.” Even from the other side of the rice paper wall, Senshi could see his muscles tense. “I know only what you are—a samurai.”

  Her breath hitched in her throat as she slowly raised her hand. Yoshido truly loved her? How had she not noticed? It was true that during the last year she’d been consumed by her samurai training, desperate to prove herself as a capable warrior, lest Lord Toyotomi change his mind about her. And if she’d been naive enough to ignore Yoshido’s feelings, had she also been burying her own? “Why are you telling me this now?”

  He shrugged. “I leave for a battle tomorrow. I might die. I thought you should know how I felt about you.”

  She placed her hand on top of his. The heat from his skin seemed to melt through the paper into hers. So this was what love felt like? She smiled. Yoshido would go off to battle, but he would return. She had no doubt. He was the greatest warrior she’d ever met. But he also carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  She traced the outline of his shoulders with her free hand. “Lord Toyotomi told me I have great ki power.”

  “I know,” Yoshido said.

  “I am going to be a great samurai.”

  “I know.”

  She stopped tracing his shadow and placed her hand flat on the wall. Yoshido copied her movement so that his heat melted into both of her hands. She shivered. “Soon, I am going to fight in great battles.”

  “I know.”

  Senshi thought back to the first time she’d seen Yoshido, the grief-stricken warrior under the cherry trees. She knew Yoshido h
ad been betrothed to another woman. And that his guilt over her death nearly killed him. She wouldn’t give her heart to a man haunted by another woman’s ghost. She lifted her chin and steeled herself for the words she was about to say.

  “So if I am going to love you, Yoshido, I am going to love you greater than any woman has ever loved a man. And you, in turn, will love me just as much.”

  There was nothing but silence from the other side of the wall. Senshi had a brief paralyzing moment where she wondered if she’d demanded too much of him. But even as the thought crossed her mind, the silhouette of Yoshido’s face darkened as he brought it so close to the wall Senshi wondered if she might feel his breath through the paper.

  “I know.”

  24

  When I opened my eyes, I was surprised to find myself in my own room. Even more surprising was finding Kim seated at the foot of my bed looking grim. For one fleeting moment I wondered if Kim breaking up with me followed by the ninja attack had only been a nightmare. But, after I glanced down at my bruised body and charred clothing, I’d realized the real nightmare had been waiting for me to wake.

  I pushed myself to a sitting position and immediately regretted it when my vision wavered. “Whoa.” I placed a hand against my head. Another concussion was the last thing I needed. I was struggling enough in school to add actual brain damage to my problems.

  Kim frowned but made no move to help me up. “You need to take it easy. You almost killed yourself trying to save everyone.”

  I dropped my hand. “And did I?”

  He nodded, a quick jut of the chin. “Yes. Everyone is fine.”

  The knot in my chest loosened and I sagged against my pillow. “Good.” At least something positive had come out of today. But through my relief, a new sensation had taken root inside me—a raw ache in my chest. I had ninja to worry about, I didn’t need the distraction of a broken heart.

  As if reading my thoughts, Kim shifted his gaze to my window. “I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for … any of this.”

  I almost laughed. Was that his idea of an explanation? Five hundred years and that was all I got? The first spark of anger warmed my stomach. I swung my legs to the floor and stood. I couldn’t just lay there like an invalid while my world fell apart. But, without a course of action, I could only pace the floor. “So what are you doing here? You knew I was going to be all right when you got me out of the building, so why wait for me to wake? Did you want me to gain consciousness just so you could break up with me all over again? Because you could have saved yourself the trip—I heard you the first time.”

  “No. That’s not—it’s just—” He swept a hand through his hair. “It’s not an easy thing to explain.” He met my eyes, his expression asking if I understood.

  I didn’t.

  “We spent a lifetime together, Kim. I loved you. I love you. I just can’t believe you would throw all of that away.”

  “I know.” He stood and walked toward me but stopped when I retreated to the back of my room. “It doesn’t make a lot of sense to me, either. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you. But something inside of me is telling me this is what I have to do. I have a debt to Chiyo.”

  I made a disgusted sound. “Chiyo is dead.”

  “Because of me!” He sucked in a breath and stared at my ceiling. After a moment, he lowered his face and looked at me. The expression he wore mirrored the grieving warrior I’d seen under the cherry trees so many years ago. When he answered, his voice was quiet. “She died because of me.”

  I thought about my sword taped to the back of my mirror and how much I’d like to grab it and smack the broadside of the blade against Kim’s thick skull. “Can you even hear yourself? Do you know how insane that is? You didn’t kill Chiyo. She was kidnapped by bandits. You had nothing to do with her death.”

  His jaw flexed. “As her betrothed, she was my responsibility. It was my duty to keep her safe. And I failed.”

  God, he was stubborn. Why couldn’t he see that we lived in the 21st century and didn’t have to abide by the old ways? But even before I asked the question, I knew the answer: Kim was, and always would be, a samurai before all else. And, as much as it broke my heart, the samurai in me was proud of him.

  “So that’s it? We’re over?” The pain of saying the words out loud ripped through my heart like the prongs of a sai. It hurt to breathe.

  Kim didn’t look so great either. His shoulders fell and every tendon in his jaw stretched taut. He took another step toward me and I took another step back.

  I couldn’t let him get close to me. Because if I did, I wasn’t sure I could stop myself from running into his arms and begging him not to leave me.

  And Rileigh Martin did not beg.

  “I don’t have a choice, Rileigh.” He took another step and this time the wall at my back ended my retreat. Son of hibachi. Kim stepped in front of me so I had to tilt my chin up to look at him unless I wanted my face crushed by his chest.

  My pulse beat frantically against my temples and my fingers itched to cling to the fabric of his T-shirt and fold myself against his body. I quickly balled them into fists at my side. “What do you want from me, Kim?” As much as I wanted to, I would not look away. This was one staring contest I would not lose.

  He brought his head down so I could feel his breath, hot against my skin.

  “I want you to be safe. The ninja have made it very clear they are not going to stop until you’re dead. And I know you are struggling with your ki.”

  A bitter-sounding laugh escaped my throat. “Please. I’m a big girl. You don’t have to pretend to care about me, anymore.”

  He slammed his hand against the wall, startling me. “I will always care.” His eyes bore into mine. “Please.” He leaned his head down and I had to press my face against the wall before the urge to kiss him overpowered me. Little bits of textured plaster bit into my cheek.

  “Sumi may have my vow, but you have my heart, Rileigh Martin. I will never stop loving you.”

  I shook my head as much as the wall allowed it. “You don’t treat someone you love like this, Kim. You don’t leave them for someone else.” I felt the first of many hot tears trail down my cheek. Damn. So much for holding it together.

  He placed a finger under my chin and tilted my face to his. His own eyes shimmered dangerously with tears. “I can’t stop being a samurai. It’s who I am.” He closed his eyes and brought his lips to mine.

  It was my undoing. Every word, every thought in my head vanished until all that existed was the kiss. Our last kiss. Before I’d realized what I was doing, my arms reached around his neck, pulling him closer to me. It was as if by sheer force I might somehow change his mind.

  But Kim pulled away with a gasp before I could. He backed away from me and looked around my room, his eyes wide, as if he were unsure of where he was. “I don’t—I wasn’t—” He pressed his palm to his temple and shook his head. “Everything is wrong.”

  “What is?” Sumi? Our kiss? I closer to him, aware of how cold and empty I felt without the heat of his body against mine.

  He looked at me. “Rileigh, I am so sorry.” He backed toward the door. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Where?”

  He blinked, as if he wasn’t quite sure. “Sumi,” he finally answered. “She needs me.”

  And just like that, all the anger and hurt lying dormant inside of me swelled, pushing against my skin and electrifying my fingertips. The hair on the back of my neck rose in response. The pictures I’d taken over the summer of Kim and me rattled off my dresser onto the floor. “Fine. Go.” I flexed my fingers, hoping to contain the power growing inside.

  “Rileigh?” Kim looked around my room from the tubes of lip gloss and mascara bouncing on the vanity to the stuffed animals performing flips off of my bed. “Are you okay?”

  Why did people always ask that when i
t was so obvious you weren’t? “Get out, Kim.” A tendril of ki burst from my body and rattled my door on its hinges.

  Kim stared at me for a moment longer. Finally, he nodded and turned to leave but paused at my door. “I can’t see you anymore.”

  “What?” The shock of his words intensified the buzzing inside of me. I pressed my teeth together to keep the stream of insults from tumbling out. I was better than that. “You’re a dick, Gimhae Kim,” I said using his real name. Okay, so maybe I wasn’t better than that. Sue me.

  Kim’s shoulders tightened, but he didn’t turn around. “When you’re around me, I get confused. And I can’t have that—especially when I have ninja to hunt.”

  “That will be kind of hard, considering I’ll be hunting the ninja with you. I’m their target, remember?”

  “I know.” He nodded. “And your safety is the most important thing in the world to me. But I have to hunt the ninja without you, Rileigh. I’m not leaving you alone—I’ll make sure the other samurai are watching—but I have to put distance between us. If you have an update, report it to the others. I can’t … ”

  “What, Kim?” I spit between clenched teeth. “You can’t what?”

  He was quiet for several heartbeats before answering, “You’re off the team—it’s for the best.” Before I could respond, he left my room and shut the door behind him.

  25

  Quentin pulled into his assigned parking spot in the school lot. He turned off the ignition but made no move to get out of the car. I could feel his eyes staring at me even though I hadn’t looked up from the latte in my hands. The post-breakup haze left me numb and empty. The heat the caramel macchiato lent to my fingers was the only sensation I’d felt in more than a week—since the night Kim had stolen into my room, kissed me, and told me he never wanted to see me again.

  “How are you holding up?” Q asked, his eyes full of concern. At the very least, Quentin’s migraines had become fewer, which meant he was acting like my friend again—and for that I was grateful.