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  Relax, I’m A Ninja

  Kindle Edition

  Copyright 2014 Natalie Whipple

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means electronic, mechanical, printing, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author, except for use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Edited by Diane Dalton

  Cover Design by Melissa Williams Cover Design

  Cover image iStock

  Author Photo by Michelle D. Argyle

  For Nick, my very own nerdy ninja

  and other half

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Six Years Ago

  All I wanted was sleep, but my stomach groaned until I couldn’t take it anymore. It seemed like I could never get enough to eat. I pulled back my covers and tiptoed to the kitchen, being careful not to wake Mom. I jumped when I saw the figure at our table, but not because I was scared.

  “What are you doing home so early?” I asked my dad.

  He pulled off his ninja mask. “Get the first aid kit, son.”

  My eyes widened, but I did as I was told. I rushed over to him, catching a glimpse of his wound in the moonlight. Pus oozed from it. Lime-tinted pus that could only mean one thing. “Is that…?”

  “Yes.” Dad ripped off his sleeve. “Get a washcloth.”

  As I helped him dress the wound, my mind reeled over everything he wasn’t saying. Another ninja had attacked him—with the worst of poisons, no less. I couldn’t imagine the kind of ninja who’d stoop so low. “What happened?”

  He took a deep breath. “There is light and dark, good and evil, in this world. But remember this: light is not good and dark is not evil. You know the dark, but you must never learn the evil. Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  Years would pass before I truly understood the difference between darkness and evil. Not until I learned about them.

  1

  According to my father, the first rule of ninjutsu was KISS: keep it simple, stupid. Of course, he said it all ninja-like, but that was the gist. If you could walk down the street in normal clothes, there was no need for black garb. If you could finish a dude in two moves, you didn’t waste your time with three. That was why we ran a karate school: two ninjas hiding in the most obvious place.

  As owner of the Wado Karate Dojo, my dad, Ken Ito, could teach all he wanted without anyone guessing he could slink through the shadows better than Batman. What self-respecting ninja would teach scrawny kids karate by day? People forget ninjas aren’t the self-respecting types.

  When it came right down to it, the teaching gig was actually quite self-serving. Sure, little kids learned to defend themselves from bigger kids who thought they were better just because they were big. But we also had an easy place to train without causing suspicion and, if we needed it, direct access to new talent.

  I just never thought Dad would pick her.

  That day we meditated in the dojo’s smaller training space—the ninja room. Dad liked to clear his mind and body after teaching, so we breathed deep and kept the chatting to a minimum.

  “The Clan is like a windless night,” he said in his usual cryptic way.

  I took in another slow breath as I translated. “Are you saying you want to recruit again?”

  He grunted.

  It had been a long time since the Ito Clan recruited members. Dad used to recruit a couple every year, but that had stopped when I turned ten. I figured he thought we were big enough for a mercenary group. The more members, the higher the risk of exposure. “But why now, after so long?”

  He didn’t answer, which was his way of saying I didn’t need to know.

  I held in my groan. When you’ve watched your dad take out an attacker with one well-placed elbow to the face, respect for your elders becomes an understatement, even in a Japanese household. “Who?”

  “Amy Sato.”

  My eyes went wide. He couldn’t have been serious. “Are you sure?”

  “She has the instincts of a panther, Toshiro.”

  “But she’s so…timid.” What I really wanted to say was that Amy Sato was a huge cover risk. Not only did she take every class possible at our dojo, but she was my best friend Eddie’s lifetime crush. Having to get close to her, train with her, would be suspicious. But Dad must have thought of these things. He wasn’t the type to ignore details.

  “A mouse can infiltrate the strongest fortress,” my dad replied. “It would be nice to see her in the competition class.” The “competition class” was code for our nightly ninjutsu training session. Basically, he was saying, “Amy’s in whether you like it or not, and you’re telling her.”

  “Okay.” Arguing wouldn’t have helped, so I stood up and bowed. Not because he was my dad, but because he was my sensei. Then I bowed to the kamidana—the dojo’s resident spirit who lived in a simple shrine on the far wall. After slipping into my shoes, I left through the back door, where a narrow flight of stairs led to our modest San Francisco apartment. We had two bedrooms, one bath, and minimal furniture because Mom liked things uncluttered.

  “Tadaima!” I entered and took off my shoes, then put on my house slippers.

  “O kaeri!” my mom said from the kitchen. Part of me always felt guilty seeing her happy, naïve smile each night. She had no idea she was married to a ninja Clan Master.

  I breathed in the scent of dinner—the salty miso made my stomach grumble. Because I was a good son (that’s what Mom called me since I still listened to her), I went to the kitchen and gave her a side hug. Hisako Ito wasn’t your average Japanese woman—she was crazy. We had videos of her on wacky game shows from when they lived in Japan. Nothing like seeing your mom slog through a vat of gelatin, jump through fire rings, and scale a ten-story mountain of cheese for a few million yen. It wasn’t the same respect I had for my dad, but I definitely respected her.

  “You stink!” she said in Japanese, flipping the chicken with a pair of chopsticks. If there weren’t English speakers present, she didn’t bother to use the little she knew.

  “Mmm, teriyaki. What’s the special occasion?” I plucked out a piece. She slapped my hand, but I still ate it.

  “Eddie called. Your friends are coming over to play games; they can’t go hungry. Now go shower, you’re stinking up the house!” She smiled as she pushed me out of the kitchen.

  When I finished cleaning up, I opened the bathroom door and found Eddie and Stu sitting on the couch. I didn’t think they’d be here that fast. But that wasn’t what made me freeze. Amy sat in the recliner—and I was in a towel. Not that my body was embarrassing, but I usually wore baggy clothing to hide my strength.

  I gripped my towel. “Oh, Amy, I didn’t know you were coming.”

  “Eddie invited me. He said
you were starting a new campaign, and it sounded like fun.” She narrowed her eyes, taking me in with what might have been suspicion.

  “Dude, have you been working out or something?” Eddie asked.

  “Uh, yeah.” They knew I liked karate, but I purposely played down just how good I was. Dad even had me stay at brown belt, even though I was technically a third dan black belt. “Dad wants me to beef up for the next competition. I didn’t do well last time.”

  Amy nodded in agreement, since she always attended non-ninja competitions and had seen me take a spectacular (planned) dive last time. “Which was weird, since you beat Marty in practice. You looked top of your game, and then you choked?”

  I tried to keep my expression even. Marty was the only other ninja training in “competition class” with me. He was good, but I could beat him easily. Had she stayed late one day and seen us sparring?

  “I’ve always wanted to ask,” she continued. “Why is it that we’re the same belt, but you get to be in the competition class and I don’t?”

  Great, she was already picking apart my cover in front of my friends, though I had to admit I was starting to see why Dad wanted her. Amy was clearly observant. I almost invited her right there, but then Eddie and Stu exchanged glances that said, “Since when do they talk so much?”

  Inviting Amy would have to wait. I laughed, hoping to dissolve their curiosity. “You think my dad explains his class assignment decisions with me? I’m, uh, gonna get dressed.”

  I headed to my room, which was about two closets big and plastered with anime and video game posters. I liked things neat, so my bed was made and not a single piece of clothing sat on the beige carpet.

  After getting dressed, I found everyone crammed around our little table ready for dinner. With Amy around, I wasn’t looking forward to playing Dungeons & Dragons all of a sudden. It’s not that she wasn’t pretty or nice. As far as nerd girls went, she ranked in the top three for sure. Maybe recruiting her wouldn’t have bothered me if I didn’t know Eddie was in love with her. I wasn’t doing anything wrong, but it felt like I’d be betraying my best friend by spending so much time with her.

  “So, do you and Amy see each other at karate a lot?” Eddie asked as I took an empty seat. It was like he was reading my mind. He had gone as Gandalf for Halloween last week, but he looked a lot rounder than most depictions of the gray wizard and his staff was just for show. Or so I thought.

  “Not really,” I said, because Eddie would flip if he knew I spent more time with Amy than he did. Even if there was nothing between us to even call friendship.

  “Doesn’t sound like it,” Stu said. He was a funny-looking guy with blond hair, freckles, and a hundred and thirty pounds spread over six feet. He went as a Ring Wraith, and people did a double take to make sure he wasn’t the real thing.

  “Oh, I see him every day,” Amy said. “He’s just too cool to talk to me, even though he should be in my class like the other brown belts.”

  I forced my eyes not to bug out. What was with the sudden show of bitterness?

  Eddie tilted his head. “Is it because you’re the owner’s son?”

  I had to play it cool, even though it pissed me off to think they were questioning my abilities. My cover was everything, and I couldn’t risk even the smallest crack no matter how much I wanted to tell them I was the best fighter at the dojo. “I’ll be testing for black belt soon. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

  Amy pursed her lips, not buying it. Then out of nowhere she threw one of her chopsticks at me. I instinctively dodged it and then cursed myself.

  “Whoa, nice!” Stu laughed. “You’ll be black belt in no time.”

  I shrugged, unable to answer because I couldn’t get over the fact that Amy had decided to test my skills instead of accepting that I got special preference from my Dad. Did she really suspect I was better than I let on? She’d tear my cover apart if she kept pushing. Amy opened her mouth and I worried about what question I’d have to field next. Luckily, Mom came over and set down the little bowls of miso soup.

  “Itadakimasu!” we all said. Stu and Eddie had been over for dinner enough to know that was what we said, though not enough to say it right. It always sounded more like “eat the rocky moss.” Amy, on the other hand, knew exactly how things went because her parents were Japanese, too.

  “So good, Mrs. Ito,” Eddie said after his second plate of chicken.

  “No, no.” Mom never accepted a compliment, even though she loved to get them.

  “Where’s Todd?” I asked. The guy was usually late, but not this late.

  “His dad dragged him off to a basketball game or something. He said he’d try to get here after,” Stu said.

  “Can’t really start without him.” That was the one frustrating thing about D&D. If someone couldn’t make it, you couldn’t play. Eddie, our hardcore Dungeon Master, didn’t run the campaign with fewer than four heroes. We always had to pick up an extra person we didn’t know well. It was usually some guy from school, but I guess Eddie got gutsy and went for Amy.

  “He’ll show,” Eddie said.

  Todd didn’t show, even though it took us forever to make characters since Amy hadn’t played before. I tried to find a discreet way to ask her about competition class, but I couldn’t risk it. She’d already raised too many questions in front of my friends.

  It was approaching midnight, and I was bored out of mind. Stu tried calling Todd, but he didn’t answer. Amy decided to leave, probably because we were so boring.

  Eddie groaned. “That was my chance with her. Stupid basketball game.”

  “The game should be over by now,” I said.

  “Maybe he fell asleep?” Stu offered.

  Eddie shook his head. “That is unacceptable.”

  We had to come up with something entertaining to do, or at least more exciting than watching TV or letting Eddie go on about how Amy touched his wrist. No matter what it was, the first thing out of someone’s mouth would happen. Eddie started laughing. By the way his beady eyes glinted, I could tell he’d come up with some kind of a plan.

  “What?” Stu asked.

  “Wouldn’t it be awesome if Tosh spied on Courtney with his ninja powers? Then he could tell us what color bra she wears.”

  I gulped down the paranoia. Eddie couldn’t know I was a ninja just because of what Amy had said, could he? No. Ninjas were mainstream entertainment, that was all. And it was no secret that some forms of ninjutsu still existed, though most people assumed it stayed in karate studios and on movie screens. He had to be joking.

  “Dude, you should,” Stu said.

  “No way.” It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see Courtney Petersen in her bra, I just didn’t want to be that pathetic. In seventh grade I had been the stereotypical dork with a crush on the hot cheerleader. Spying on her would prove that I was still that dork. I liked to think I’d come a long way in four years, even though I still played D&D on Friday nights with my buddies. Now we had a girl with us, even if it was Amy. We were moving up.

  “C’mon, I dare you,” Eddie said.

  Ah, the dare. If I didn’t accept the challenge (not really a challenge since I could climb her drain pipe one-handed), they’d call me a chicken. I was no chicken. “Fine.”

  There wasn’t anything else to do. I figured I could climb up, take a quick peek through her window, and tell them what they wanted to hear. I could even lie if her blinds were closed, like they’d know. It would be easy.

  2

  It was darker than normal outside. Usually the fog seemed to carry light in it, even if you couldn’t see through it. But that night it was clear and moonless and black, almost making it harder to see because I wasn’t used to it. There were shadows everywhere, the kind that made me want to hide and sneak around.

  “What do you think Courtney wears to bed?” Stu asked as we walked.

  Eddie laughed. “Doesn’t matter, she looks hot in everything.”

  “Yeah.” I shoved my hands in
my jacket pockets. If I had to bet, I would have guessed something pink, probably girly, and yet sexy at the same time.

  I hated to admit I was kind of an expert on Courtney Petersen. It wasn’t like I’d had much choice in seventh grade. I was four-foot-eleven back then. There were exactly three girls my height or shorter at age twelve: Maddie Reynolds, Amy Sato, and Courtney Petersen. Of course my raging hormones would pick the blonde goddess.

  Back in the day, the guys and I would casually ride our bikes by her stately Victorian mansion. (I realized that was creepy about halfway through eighth grade.) That’s why I knew exactly how to get to her house in Pacific Heights, which wasn’t that far from our dojo.

  “You guys stay at the park, okay? I’ll find you when I’ve got the info,” I said to Eddie and Stu as we huddled in the cool November air. I couldn’t risk them seeing what I could really do.

  “I want to watch you hop the fence at least,” Stu said.

  I rolled my eyes. “All right, but then go to the park. No witnesses.”

  Stu and Eddie nodded, their faces pasted with goofy smiles. I couldn’t back out now, as much as I wanted to.

  So I tried to look normal as I pulled myself up and over Courtney’s dark wooden fence. But when I landed without a sound on the other side, I was free to be myself. Adrenaline pulsed through me. It had been a while since my dad had taken me on a mission. My ninja reflexes wanted to be used.

  Sticking to the darkest shadows, I pushed my back to the house. Nothing moved in their small, neat yard. Only a slight breeze rattled the trees. The lights weren’t on downstairs, but a yellow square lit part of the lawn from the second story.

  Once I found the perfect bush to crouch under, I made for it, timing my rustling with a gust of wind. I looked to the lighted window and smiled—it was open just a crack.

  I held my breath. Courtney’s perfect figure passed by the bay window, and she paused briefly to look out. Her hot pink bra straps shone under a black tank top. The light went out.