Senshi (A Katana Novel) (28 page)

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Authors: Cole Gibsen

Tags: #teen fiction, #teen, #young adult, #youth fiction, #warrior, #reincarnation, #fiction, #samurai, #supernatrual, #young adult fiction, #kunoichi, #ninja, #Japan, #senior year

BOOK: Senshi (A Katana Novel)
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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.

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