Read Shinobi (A Katana Novel) Online

Authors: Cole Gibsen

Tags: #teen fiction, #young adult, #ya, #katana, #young adult novel, #ya fiction, #senshi, #young adult fiction, #teen novel, #ninja, #teen lit, #ya novel

Shinobi (A Katana Novel)

Woodbury, Minnesota

Copyright Information

Shinobi
© 2014 by Cole Gibsen.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any matter whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from Flux, except in the form of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

As the purchaser of this ebook, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. The text may not be otherwise reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, or recorded on any other storage device in any form or by any means.

Any unauthorized usage of the text without express written permission of the publisher is a violation of the author’s copyright and is illegal and punishable by law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover models used for illustrative purposes only and may not endorse or represent the book’s subject.

First e-book edition © 2014

E-book ISBN: 9780738740553

Book design by Bob Gaul
Cover design by Ellen Lawson
Cover images
©
iStockphoto.com/20694625/Igor Zhuravlov,
iStockphoto.com/14458776/lya Terentyev,
Shutterstock Inc./112652780/takayuki,
Shutterstock Inc./42996295/DigitalHand Studio
Photo composition by John Blumen

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Flux

Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd.

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Manufactured in the United States of America

Acknowledgments

A huge thank you to my tireless champion, the woman who dons a cape when no one is looking, my amazing agent Nicole Resciniti.

Thanks for the continued support from Brian Farrey-Latz, Rhiannon Nelson, Kathy Schneider, Mallory Hayes, and the rest of the amazing people at Flux.

To my crit partners Brad Cook, T. W. Fendley, Sarah Bromley, and Michelle McLean, thank you for your invaluable wisdom. Without you, my books simply wouldn’t be.

To my Southern Illinois Bookends, your support is in-valuable. If it weren’t for my Wednesday night lattes with you guys, I’d probably be fitted for a straitjacket already.

A special thanks to the beautiful and gracious Hasume-San, Umeka-San, and Tsutsujime-San. Thank you for always making my release parties memorable.

Thank you to all my amazing readers and fans. You’re the reason I do what I do. Thank you for your love and letters. There’s no feeling like knowing people love your characters as much as you do. Thanks for allowing them to spend time with you.

To Grandma and Grandpa. I’d hate to think

what my imagination would be like without all
the time I spent nurturing it in your backyard.

1

W
hen I was a samurai, rites of passage were performed in ceremonies of steel and blood. But here, in the twenty-first century, everything was done with paper—kind of anticlimactic if you thought about it. High school was officially over. From this day forward, I was an
adult.
If they weren’t going to cut our hands with ceremonial blades and make us sign our names in blood, the least they could have done was rig our diplomas to shoot confetti when we opened them. Something other than the standard, “Your childhood is over. Here’s a piece of paper.”

“Rileigh! Can you believe it?” a voice shouted through the sea of green caps and gowns. I closed the folder that held my diploma and looked up to find my best friend Quentin weaving through the various families and graduates milling about the lawn outside the gymnasium. His unzipped robe billowed around his suit like a cape as he pulled me into a hug. “It’s over!” He tore his graduation cap from his head and threw it in the air. “It’s finally over! Doesn’t it feel so … amazing?” He grinned widely.

“Sure does.” I forced a smile. But the truth was, as happy as I was to finally graduate high school, I couldn’t help but feel Gimhae Kim’s absence like a dull ache in my side. When I fantasized about this moment at the beginning of the year, Kim was waiting for me at the end of the ceremony, his arms open wide.

Q pulled away and held me at arm’s length. “You could have called him, you know.”

I dropped the forced smile. Leave it to Dr. Q to always know what was wrong. It was one of his more annoying traits. “Yeah, well, you could have called … ” I racked my mind for the perfect comeback but came up blank. When in doubt, there was always my old standby. “Your face.”

“Ouch. Get me to the hospital, I’ve just been burned.” He smirked and let go of my shoulders. “I know this is a touchy subject for you, I just don’t understand why you won’t return his calls. You love him, Rileigh. And even though he doesn’t remember you right now, you know he loves you too. Didn’t you two have fun at prom?”

“We did but … I don’t know.” I sighed and waved a hand in the air. “It’s not the same now that he doesn’t remember who I am—who
we
were. I miss Kim so much, but spending that night with him at prom, and seeing the way he looked at me—like he didn’t know me … I felt more alone with him than without. I know that probably sounds crazy.”

The humor left his face and he turned away. “And it’s all my fault.”

I immediately wished I could take back my words. I knew how guilty Quentin felt about accidentally erasing Kim’s memory. And on our graduation day, I didn’t want him to be anything but happy. I reached for him, but he sidestepped my hands. “Q, don’t blame yourself. If you hadn’t altered Sumi’s memory, we’d all be dead. You saved us.”

“At the cost of Kim’s identity.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could a deafening squeal threatened to burst my left ear drum.

“We did it!” Michelle, my friend and fellow past-life samurai, bounded in front of me. Her mess of red curls, unwill
ing to be restrained by her French braid, stuck out at odd
angles beneath her graduation cap. Before I could stop her, she grabbed my hands and spun us in a circle. “We graduated! It’s so exciting!”

After several seconds of spinning, she abruptly released me. I stumbled a couple of steps and sucked in several large breaths in an attempt to pull my stomach out of my knees.

“You’re not happy.” She looked to Q. “Why isn’t she happy?”

“Who’s not happy?” Braden asked. He and Drew, the
remaining members of our samurai team, walked over to us. Braden stopped next to Michelle and gave her a kiss on the cheek. His bare legs and flip-flops stood out among the heels and polished loafers around us.

Drew, who’d graduated several years ago, had watched
the ceremony from the bleachers—the seat beside him
noticeably empty. Like me, the smile on his face couldn’t quite mask the sorrow in his eyes.

“Rileigh’s not happy.” Michelle pointed to me.

Drew shot me an understanding look, and I responded with an appreciative smile. With Kim’s past-life memories gone, I’d lost a boyfriend, but Drew lost a brother. To make matters worse, Drew lived in the same apartment complex as Kim. I couldn’t imagine what it’d be like to see your past-life brother every day only to have him look at you like a stranger.

“What’s not to be happy about?” Braden cocked his head. “We just graduated and I’m naked. Could life get any better?”

“Wait, what?” I jerked back as Q burst into laughter.

Michelle rolled her eyes.

“What do you mean you’re
naked
?” I asked.

Braden’s lips quirked into a grin. “It means that the only thing separating me from this delightful spring breeze is thin silk.” He pulled at the robe and let it fall back against his chest.

“Um, ew.” I wrinkled my nose and took several steps
backward, wanting to place as much distance between him and me. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Drew bet me. He said he’d pay me twenty bucks if I went through the entire graduation ceremony with nothing under the robe.” He held his arms up in triumph. “Easiest money I ever made.”

Drew folded his arms. “Okay. But before I pay, how do I know you’re really naked? You could be sporting boxer shorts under there for all I know.”

“Don’t believe me? I’ll show you.” He grabbed the zipper at his neck and pulled it down several inches.

“No!” Quentin, Michelle, and I screamed in unison. I quickly spun on my feet to avoid seeing anything that might require an eye-bleaching. “Let me know when the coast is clear.” Facing the opposite way, I let my eyes wander through the throng of happy graduates with their families. A bizarre sense of nostalgia overcame me as I took in the people surrounding me. It was weird to think this would be the last time I saw some of them, maybe even the last time I set foot on school grounds.

An invisible ribbon laced around my chest and pulled tight. How strange to stand before a door, close it, and know it could never be reopened. I hoped with everything inside of me my relationship with Kim wasn’t a closed door—that despite the odds stacked against us, we’d find a way to get his memories back.

“Rileigh.” Michelle giggled. “It’s okay. You can turn around. I promise I’ll make Braden behave.”

He snorted. “You can try.”


Braden
.” I made sure the threat was evident in my voice
even if a smile pulled at my lips. “I swear if you unzip your
robe, I’ll axe-kick you right in the … ” But something caught my attention and my words trailed off. At the edge of my vision, behind a woman wearing a large purple hat, I thought I caught a glimpse of a face half-hidden behind shoulder-length blond hair, ducking behind a family posing for pictures.

No. It couldn’t be.

I stepped to the side and craned my neck for a better look. Unfortunately, the constantly moving crowd pressed closer to me, making it impossible to find him—if he’d been there at all.

“Rileigh?” Q asked. “What is it?”

“Probably nothing.” I didn’t turn around, too afraid I’d miss him. “I’ll be right back, I … want to say goodbye to my math teacher.”

“But you hate Mrs. Adkins.”

Without responding, I weaved through the crowd, dodging the flailing arms of excited parents and graduates. As I made my way farther, I caught a glimpse of a crisply ironed shirt collar, followed by the heel of a brightly polished shoe. These could have belonged to anyone, but the pounding of my pulse told me otherwise.

When I reached the edge of the crowd, I spotted him re-treating at a brisk pace halfway through the parking lot. I’d never catch up to him in time. And from this distance, it was impossible to make out his face. I’d have no way of knowing for sure who he was. Unless …

I glanced around to make sure no one was watching.
Lucky for me everyone was too busy laughing and taking photos to notice the girl standing at the edge of the parking lot, picking up a stone just large enough to fit inside her palm.

I muttered a quick prayer that karma would be forgiving if I nailed a perfect stranger in the noggin. If, however, the guy was who I thought he was, then he deserved what was coming his way. I lifted the rock over my head and chucked it.

“Son of a—!” the guy cried out after the rock bounced off his head. He whirled around and, even though he was several yards away, confirmed my worst fear. I could feel the heat from his glare through the dark sunglasses shielding his face. The same glare he’d given me a lifetime ago right before he killed my soul mate—my Yoshido—and forced me to drive a dagger into my gut to avoid being taken captive.

There was no mistaking it.

Whitley was back.

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