Senshi (A Katana Novel)

by Cole Gibsen

  Prom. I’d forgotten all about it. It felt like a million years ago since I sat in my algebra class daydreaming about what dress I might wear and how I’d style my hair. I shook my head as if to dislodge the memory from my brain. It didn’t matter now. The only person who I could imagine dancing with had no idea who I was.

  I folded my arms. “I may not have plans, but you don’t look like you’re doing anything important right now, either. Why can’t you do it?”

  Dr. Wendell sighed. “Rileigh, I would if I could. But I’ve got a meeting with a few Network officials in New York and my flight leaves in a couple of hours. I still have to pack.”

  I turned away from him and flopped onto my bed. “Is this really necessary? Kim’s a big boy. Don’t you think he’ll be okay if he goes an entire day without someone checking in on him?”

  Dr. Wendell sat next to me. “We don’t know enough about Quentin’s powers and their effect on the human mind. Who’s to say Kim won’t recover some or all of his memories? This is why it’s imperative he be watched on a daily basis just as Sumi is under constant surveillance.”

  I buried my face in my pillow and groaned. I hadn’t seen Kim since the night he’d lost his memory. And for someone who lost the love of her life, I thought I’d been holding up remarkable well. I was eating, getting dressed, and fighting the occasional reincarnated warlord. But if I had to see Kim and that blank look in his eyes when he looked at me, I was convinced it would undo all the work I’d done trying to keep it together. “Do I have to?”

  “Please, Rileigh?” Dr. Wendell stood. “You won’t even have to talk to him. While the new dojo is being built, he’s teaching classes at the YMCA. He’ll be there or at his apartment. Just drive by if you must. Make sure everything looks on the up and up and head home. If you do this for me, I promise I won’t ask you again.”

  I sighed. If I was the only one available, what choice did I have? I opened my mouth to tell him exactly that when my mom appeared in my doorway. Her arms were folded across her chest and her lips pinched in a frown. Awesome. More good news.

  “You’re in some trouble, young lady.” She dropped her arms to the side and marched into my room shaking her head as she walked. “Why didn’t you tell me your prom was tonight?”

  Because Debbie would never believe I didn’t want to go. She’d assume I was pouting because I didn’t have a date and before I could say Calvin Klein, she’d be on the phone with one of her clients and I’d be escorted into a crepe-paper-

  covered gymnasium on the arm of an underwear model. Mortifying. “Mom, please. It’s not a big deal. I didn’t tell you because I’m not going. They’re short volunteers at the hospital and Dr. Wendell asked if I could go.”

  He nodded dumbly in agreement.

  She frowned at him. Yay! I wasn’t the only one in trouble. “You’re going to have to find someone else. Rileigh is going to prom.”

  I folded my arms. “No, I’m not.”

  Debbie directed her narrowed-eyed stare at me. “Then why is Q here to pick you up? He’s waiting in the living room.” She wagged a finger at me. “It’s a good thing I picked up that vintage Versace last time I was in LA. Otherwise, you’d have nothing to wear. Honestly.” She shook her head. “I’ll get the dress. Hurry up and do something with your hair, okay?” With that, she spun on her heels and strode from my room leaving me blinking in her wake.

  What the hell was going on? I jumped to my feet. “Q!”

  Dr. Wendell flinched and wiggled his pinky inside of his ear as if I deafened him. I didn’t care. I’d told Q a thousand times I wasn’t going to prom. And if he thought he could just show up and convince me, he had another thing coming. I charged from my room and found the guilty party smiling sheepishly on my couch.

  Q stood, the tails of his black tuxedo extended past his knees. He held up a pleated-gloved hand and took a step back. “Just calm down a second, Ri-Ri. Let me explain.”

  I placed my hands on my hips. “You don’t need to explain. You thought you’d waltz in here wearing a tuxedo and think that, even though I already told you a thousand times I wasn’t going, you could guilt me to go to prom with you?”

  “Yes and no.” He licked his lips. “I didn’t want you to go with me, exactly.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  He offered a weak smile. “It means that, no matter what happens, I need you to remember that I’m your best friend and everything I do, I do because I care about you and want you to be happy.”

  “And what the hell does that mean?”

  His eyes darted nervously toward the door. “It means I did something you’re not going to like so please, please, don’t kill me.”

  Oh God. My hands dropped to my sides. “What did you do?” I followed his eyes to the door. My muscles tightened reflexively as though a hundred ninja might burst through at any minute.

  “I’m going to go help your mom pick out your dress.” Before I could stop him, Q ran down the hall to Debbie’s bedroom calling her name.

  “Coward!” I shouted after him. I had half a mind to follow him when a knock at the door froze me in place. I turned slowly around. A tremor tickled down the length of my spine. I was afraid, though for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why I should be.

  The knocking grew louder, more urgent.

  I had to clear my throat before I could answer. “Coming.”

  I walked to the door, my pulse thundering inside my head with each step closer. When I reached the knob, I hesitated. It could be anyone. What if Quentin had somehow talked Carson into a pity date for the sake of prom? I shook my head. If that was the case, I’d send Carson right on home. I didn’t need pity or a date to prom. I survived the ninjapocalypse Sumi’d rained down on me. I’d survive this too … I hoped.

  I took a deep breath, steadied myself to send Carson packing, and threw open the door. The only problem was, Carson wasn’t on the other side.

  But a very pissed-off looking Gimhae Kim in a tuxedo was.

  I tried to form words, but the shock to my system choked the breath right out of me. It didn’t matter, though. Kim didn’t wait for an invitation. He pushed his way past me and spun a circle around the living room.

  “Where is he?” he growled.

  I blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of his words. “He?” What the hell was going on? “He who?”

  “The guy with the pointy hair.” He didn’t look at me but proceeded to walk into the kitchen and glance behind the counter. Anger rolled off of him in hot waves. “He has them!”

  Oh, Q. What did you do? I had to jump out of the way as Kim charged past me back into the living room and threw open the coat closet. I edged back into the living room, never taking my eyes off of him. “I’m sorry, what does he have exactly?”

  Q peeked his head out of Debbie’s room, but when he caught site of Kim sifting through the coats in the closet, he jerked back inside and shut the door. He was so dead.

  Kim slammed the closet door and jammed a hand through his hair in frustration. It was such a familiar move it made my heart ache to see it. “My clothes.” Kim turned and looked at me.

  Seeing him again, being this close to him, it scrambled my mind like eggs in a skillet. My pulse raced as my thoughts jumbled together. This was exactly the reason I’d been avoiding him for so long. “But you’re, um, wearing clothes.” I gestured to his tux.

  Kim looked down and met my eyes. An emotion I couldn’t quite decipher crossed his face, unraveling the angry lines from his brow. “These aren’t my clothes.” The edge was gone from his voice. “My clothes were stolen off a locker room bench while I showered. This”—he motioned to the suit—“was left behind along with a ransom note. It was either put on the tux, or leave the gym in a towel.”

  I could feel my cheeks flush as the not-so-unwelcome mental image played through my mind. I faked a cough. “I
’m almost afraid to ask. What did the note say?”

  “The note?” He shook his head. “It said to come to this address if I wanted to get my clothes back.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. Only Q could conjure up such a wild scheme. “And you listened to the note? Why not just go home a tuxedo richer? Those must have been some pretty special gym clothes if you decided to go through all this trouble.”

  Kim looked at me a long moment before a smile broke through the angry lines on his face. I felt the crack inside my heart widening. Damn. And I’d been doing so well up until now. God, I so did not need this.

  “It is ridiculous, isn’t it?” He shrugged and laughed softly. “But when someone steals your smelly gym clothes, replaces them with a tuxedo, and leaves you a ransom note, there is a level of curiosity that compels you forward.” He took a step toward me.

  I choked on the last of my laughter. Warning. Warning. Alarm sirens blared inside my head. He was too close. My muscles twitched, threatening to betray me by throwing myself in his arms. I couldn’t let that happen so I took a step back.

  “So.” He took another step forward. I took another step back until the back of my knees met the arm of the couch. Son of hibachi. “Now that I’m here, what do I have to do to get my clothes back?”

  “Wha—do?” A high-pitched giggled bubbled from my throat before I could clamp my hands over my mouth. Get it together, Rileigh! When I was sure I’d gotten myself under control, I dropped my hands and cleared my throat. “I wish I could help you, but I don’t have your clothes. I’m sorry.”

  Kim didn’t respond. He just kept staring at me with that damned smirk on his face.

  “And … ” I nodded to the door. “I guess you’ll be going now?”

  Before he could respond, the door to Debbie’s room opened and Q stuck his head out. “I have your clothes. The only way you’ll get them back is if you take this girl here to her senior prom. It starts in an hour. And I must warn you, she won’t want to go, so use of excessive force is permitted.” He smiled wickedly at me before ducking back inside the room.

  Ohmigod, I was so going to kill him! That was one of the perks of having a best friend who was a healer. I could keep doing it over and over again. My cheeks burned flame hot. “You don’t—it’s not—you don’t have to. I can force him to give you your clothes back now.”

  “Prom?” Kim’s folded his arms across his chest and smiled. “This has been the weirdest clothes-napping experience of my life.”

  I looked at him. “And you’ve a lot of experience with clothes-napping?”

  His smile wavered. “I don’t—I—maybe?” He shrugged. “I teach martial arts. Several months ago I took a pretty bad blow to the head. I have some pretty big holes in my memory.” He frowned. “It’s frustrating to say the least.”

  I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “But maybe that’s a good thing? For example, I could do without the memory of what’s happening to me right now. What if some of the memories you’re missing are bad or painful? Not having them could give you a chance to start fresh.”

  “I disagree.” He stared at me without blinking and I fought the urge to shrink from under the weight of his gaze. “That would never be better. The past shapes who you are. Without my memory, I don’t know who I really am. I feel empty. Something is missing … ” He looked away and I curled my fingers into my yoga pants to keep from reaching for him. I remembered how traumatized I’d felt when Kim had tried to tell me about my past life. I couldn’t—wouldn’t do it to him. And even if I did, who was to say he’d believe me?

  “It’s funny.” He lifted his eyes to mine. “But I have this feeling that I know you—that you’re important to me.”

  My legs trembled and I leaned against the arm of the couch to keep from falling over. Could it be possible he would eventually remember me? Remember us? It was almost too much to hope for and I dared not wish for it out of fear of being crushed under the weight of disappointment if it didn’t happen.

  “But that’s probably a long talk and we don’t have a lot of time.” Kim glanced at his watch. “We should probably get going, right?”

  As much as I hadn’t wanted to go to prom, there was a greater part of me that wasn’t ready to let Kim walk out my door. Especially not when he’d sparked a hope inside me that maybe he wasn’t as lost to me as I’d assumed. I glanced at my yoga pants and T-shirt. “I’m not dressed yet.”

  Kim blinked before his eyes glanced over my outfit. He laughed. “You’re so stunning, I didn’t even notice.”

  I fought off the smile that pulled at my lips. “You so did not just give me some cheesy pickup line.”

  “It’s not cheesy when it’s true.” He opened his mouth to say more, but stopped. Confused lines pinched the bridge of his nose. He folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head to the side. “I had the strangest feeling of déjà vu just now.”

  A lump wedged inside my throat. “Yeah?”

  He nodded. “You remind me of someone … ”

  I was too scared to move, too scared to breathe out of fear of breaking whatever spell had taken over the moment. “Who?”

  He shook his head before a wide grin took over his face. “I have no idea. Isn’t that crazy?” Before I could answer he continued, “I guess that doesn’t really matter does it? We’re late, I’m rambling, and you need to get ready.”

  Did I? Would I ever be ready? But I nodded because there were no words to say. I started to walk to my bedroom when he called out to me.

  “I feel kind of silly asking you this—as we’re about to go to prom and all—but can I get your name?”

  Now that was a loaded question. But there was no sense confusing the poor boy. I’d make things simple. I glanced over my shoulder. “Rileigh.”

  “Rileigh,” he repeated. Something broke inside of me. I never thought I’d hear him say my name ever again. “That’s really pretty. My name’s—”

  “Gimhae Kim,” I answered for him before I could stop myself. “But you prefer to be called Kim.”

  “Right.” He didn’t flinch or seem surprised at all that I knew his name. Instead, he smiled. “Go get dressed.”

  I nodded, but hesitated. I was afraid that if I lost sight of him for even a moment, he might disappear never to return.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, as if sensing my hesitation. “I promise that even if I got a whole truck full of smelly gym clothes, I’d stay right here, waiting, until you got back.”

  I smiled and continued to my bedroom.

  “Oh, and Rileigh?”

  I froze without turning. “Yes?”

  “I hope I remember you first.”

  Photo by Kyle Weber

  About the Author

  When Cole Gibsen isn’t writing she can be found shaking her booty in a zumba class, picking off her nail polish, or drinking straight from the jug (when no one is looking). Cole currently resides in the Greater St. Louis area with her husband, daughter, and one very cranky border collie.