To my shame, I spent far longer simply staring at the woman before me than I probably should have. Despite the many physical similarities, looking at her was a study in contrast.

  We were the same height, had the same figure. Our faces had the same details. Our eyes were the exact same shape and shade of blue. Our cheeks were wide and sharp with identical contours. Our chins came to the exact same point. Put me in a wig and a black kimono and I doubted that anyone would be able to tell us apart. Physically, at least.

  But the similarities only served to accent how much was different.

  My hair was a bright, almost rose, red that I tended to keep in a tight bun so that it was out of my eyes as I went about my day. When I let it down, rare as that was, it hung to my mid back when wet, though it tended to shrink and turn into waves as it dried. My fur was a slightly browner red, auburn, dotted along my ears, tails and feet. Not a perfect match, but similar enough in color that it wasn’t seen as odd.

  Her hair was raven black, as was her fur, with the only real distinction between the two being the slightly lighter tufts inside her ears. However, her hair was much longer than mine, the tip of it stopping just short of her tails. And it was styled, our natural waves pronounced and dressed up into something approximating ringlets at the ends. I never had the time or funds for that degree of luxury, but she clearly did.

  And that was the smallest of the differences.

  My kimono was a traditional, and rather conservative, cut. Appropriately demure for a young woman. Hers was… not.

  Both of our sleeves were long and baggy as was appropriate for an unmarried woman, but the cut of her neckline was deep and wide, showing much of her bosom and two of the three stars on her collarbone. It was an inappropriate cut for a courtesan, let alone an unmarried lady. My obi was tied in the back as was proper, but hers was tied on the side in a flower like pattern which was completely contrary to every meaning that I had ever learned. I got stuck trying to interpret it for far longer than was appropriate, only stopping when she moved to close the door and briefly obscured the knot.

  Her obiage was showing, which would have been the scandal of the year back in Imardos, though given the black color of the kimono she might’ve been excused, since that implied she was lower status. A slit had been added to the lower kimono which let her take larger steps, but also let flashes of her bare legs flash whenever she moved.

  And beyond the dress was the accoutrements. I had never had the grace or privilege of being able to afford makeup, but she was wearing a smattering of black and reds, sharpening her eyes and lips but lacking the traditional whites that would be used for contrast.

  It was stark just how different those seemingly small changes made us seem. We had the same face, same body, but as we looked now no one would think us the same.

  It was in how we moved. Her face rested in a state of almost implied condescension as if she was looking down on the world around her constantly. And when she walked, especially in such an odd outfit, it was with a confidence and intentionality I never had.

  Her step was less about motion and more about making a statement. She didn’t walk, she strutted across the room, covering as much distance and flashing her legs with each stride. It wasn’t quite enough to appear wanton or depraved, but only so. And as she moved, her shoulders rolled and her kimono moved with it, shoulder straps threatening to fall and reveal far more, but never quite making that final slip. It was a stunning display of sensuality that would cause many elders to cry out in shock and many men to stare. A sensual and seductive display that continually promised more, but never gave.

  But it was just that, a display. A pretension that made several statements and drew eyes, but was, at least to me, clearly put on. I had no idea why someone would want to present themself as Rin did, but she certainly was making the effort to do so and all I could think about is how exhausting it must’ve been being constantly conscious about how you moved.

  I shook my head and brought myself back to the present. There were many questions I wanted to ask, but nothing those would be distractions to why I had done this and presumably could be done later. I smiled at her as she reached the table and motioned for her to sit. She did so, but in such a way that involved bending forward in a way that I’m sure would inspire many nosebleeds. Thankfully, I had never been particularly vain or self-obsessed, so much of the allure was lost on me and instead I focused on pouring her tea.

  “Thank you,” she said in smooth Tho-myon, leaning onto a suddenly appearing cushion with one arm while her legs splayed to her right. There was a shuffle, where she moved, making sure some of her leg peeked through the slit as she sat.

  I couldn’t imagine that pose particularly comfortable, but she didn’t seem to mind. Instead, I forced myself to smile and sat back into a seiza position. “Of course. Thank you for coming.”

  “This meeting has been a long time coming. It would be foolish for me not to be here,” she said, taking the tea bowl in hand and bringing it to her nose for a brief sniff. A faint smile crossed her lips and then she sipped.

  “Tastes just like the tea Mother used to make,” she said, her tone complimentary.

  I blinked before nodding. “I imagine it would have to, given that we are in my memory shrine.”

  Rin nodded and sipped before setting the tea bowl down and relaxing in such a way that framed her curves. I fought to keep my face neutral as questions that I had tried to set aside came back. Why was she acting like this? So deliberate with her motions. Was it an act for me? Or something she had and did for another reason? And if so, why? What could cause someone to act like… this? We were clearly so similar, where did the differences come from?

  “Upbringing,” she answered me aloud.

  I blinked rapidly, had she heard my thoughts? Even here?

  “Excuse me?” I tried innocently.

  She sighed and motioned at me languidly, “Your neutral expression is good, but you have the same twitch in your lip that I used to. Most commoners won’t notice it, but you’ll want to contain that before you interact with any nobles. Given how you’ve been looking at me and our obvious similarities, there are only so many questions you could’ve been contemplating.”

  That was a lot of information that invited so many additional questions. I dwelled on the way she had talked about nobles, as if it was something she did commonly. As an equal. Instead of an attendant to a court mage who might interact with the Court proper maybe once a season. What could…Focus. I needed to focus. How did I respond? There were several automatic replies that crossed my mind, but the proper terms of address were failing me. She was me, and thus my equal or at least peer, but the advice had been given as if she was my elder and superior… but friendly?

  “Thank you for the advice,” I eventually managed, carefully avoiding any vocabulary that would imply where we fell in rank with respect for each other.

  She laughed warmly, “Oh, please stop. If you keep sticking to stuffy formality, we won’t get anywhere.”

  I smiled politely as I tried to find the trap in those words. There would be an implied closeness in doing so, but wasn’t that already true? So many implications, possibilities. With a sigh, I pushed them all aside and let my shoulders relax.

  “There you go,” she said encouragingly.

  “You aren’t quite like what I expected,” I confessed.

  She laughed again, “I’d imagine not, given how you thought me an invader.”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  I felt myself blush at that, and after the instinctive urge to push it down, let it go. “It seemed prudent.”

  “Oh, I don’t fault you for your decision. In your position I would have done exactly the same thing. Although, I would’ve been a bit more proactive in attempting to excise you than you were. Not that there have been many opportunities.”

  “I had more pressing concerns,” I said a touch defensive.

  “An arguable but valid point. And now irrelevant. I have my memories and you’ve seen my face. The truth is there. I am you and you are me.”

  “But we know different things. Act and think differently,” I stated. If we were the same, then that shouldn’t happen. There was something missing.

  She conceded the point with a shrug. “Okay, we’re mostly the same. We started from the same point, we’re made of the same building blocks. But our journeys from that point are different.”

  “Upbringing?” I asked, remembering her earlier statement.

  She nodded, before pursing her lips. “There is an underlying assumption to that statement. Clarification will require me to go through the logic that brought me to it.”

  I consented with a nod.

  “To start, the facts that lead me to my assumption.

  “One: I don’t recall interacting with you before you died, but I do have memories from before that point. Two: The blessing of being Starborn is only supposed to give the gifts you might’ve had if the gods had never been locked out. Three: we are nearly identical in body, including Starmarks. Four: Death and her servants have demonstrated the ability to distort or manipulate time. Five: While I never knew my Father, your Mother is similar looking to the memories I have of mine and I also recall having a sister named Kyomi.

  “Conclusion and assumption one: I am you, or who you might have been had magic never been restrained.”

  That… was a rather large logical leap. Instinctively, I wanted to rebel or dismiss it completely, that would be counterproductive and I had asked and tried to analyze it. I had never heard of Starborn having their Starmarks in the same location. Similar, but never the same. The physical similarities were odd, as were the family connections. Once was a happenstance, twice was a coincidence. And the Gods had already shown how willing they were to exploit coincidence. It wasn’t conclusive, but I doubted it would be. Plus, now that she said it, it just felt right.

  “A large leap,” I eventually said.

  “Yet one we’re comfortable with.”

  I nodded.

  “With that in mind, the answer to the question ‘why are we so different?’ becomes very clear.”

  “Because you were born and raised as a Kumiho, with all of the powers and persecution it brings,” I said with another nod. “The fact that our logic seems to work so similarly could be a further argument for your assumption.”

  “Provided that isn’t a consequence of sharing a mind,” we said in unison.

  We paused and laughed at that. It was eerie how similar our laughter sounded.

  “I don’t understand,” I confessed eventually.

  “How being a Kumiho leads to this?” Rin asked, motioning at herself.

  “Specifically the mannerisms, but yes.”

  “The Hunger,” she said bluntly. “You’ve only had it for a few months. I’ve had it since my first moonblood. And unlike you, by then I had already grown inured to death.”

  I blinked again, “How? Wait, no. Self-defense?”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  The need for clarification must have been plain on my face, because she continued without prompting.

  “First time a man tried to kill me I was seven,” Rin replied dispassionately, “Called me an abomination and accused me of corrupting his child. I didn’t understand until he drew his sword on me. Thankfully, he was drunk and not particularly mobile. I managed to run away. However, when I told Mother, she became angry. Forced me from the house and to track him down to where he slept drunk in an alley. She told me that if we left him alive that he would continue to come after us. Worse, he might bring others.”

  I went still, knowing where this story was going and not wanting to hear the end.

  “With Kyomi at home that was an unacceptable risk. We buried a knife in his chest, took his coins so they thought it a simple robbery, and left.”

  Aghast, I could only think of one response. “That’s horrible.”

  Rin shrugged, “I suppose it might seem that way to you, but I wasn’t the one that deemed a seven winter child should die.” She paused to sip her tea again. “My only regret is that I didn’t realize what needed to be done before Mother told me.”

  “You were seven,” I managed, “In what world would, or even should, a seven winter child think that they should kill someone?”

  “Mine.”

  I didn’t have a response to that, so I deflected. “So, how did the Hunger lead to your mannerisms?”

  Rin was polite enough to accept the abrupt transition without comment. “The mannerisms started as a defense mechanism. Kumiho were hunted, which required us to move fairly frequently. And there was only one explanation that would allow us to move and explain why an unwed woman would have two children without raising too much suspicion..”

  There were plenty of stories of yujo, women who would exchange sexual services for goods and safety, traveling between villages and none of them flattering. Especially given the risk of any yujo being a changeling who wanted to devour your magical ability. Only the desperate became a yujo and only the depraved took their services.

  “And there are certain expectations for how those women look and behave,” I said slowly.

  “Quite,” Rin agreed.

  “And it changed from defense to?”

  A pained look crossed Rin’s face. No, not pain. Concern.

  “You don’t want to know,” she stated.

  She was trying to protect me again. But this related to the Hunger, which meant it probably related to Eninald. I had almost forgotten the anger that had brought me here, but it started to boil back to the surface. She didn’t get to play evasive with me, not with information that directly impacted my life.

  “But I do,” I stated evenly, “And I think I need to.”

  Rin sighed, “I suppose I should have seen this coming. I certainly wouldn’t have accepted that statement. Know that I was trying to protect you from this.”

  She sipped her tea as she collected herself, “Kumiho have three gifts that set them apart from your standard Kitsune. The first is in magics, a knack for withering magics which allow them to inhibit and cripple those they chose, be that pursuers or otherwise. The second is the Aura, or what you call an ‘enticement field’ designed to draw those to us, be that for protection or otherwise. The third…”

  Her hesitance here was telling, though not as much as her use of the word ‘otherwise’ twice. She didn’t want to talk about this, it made her uneasy. I carefully poured her some tea, trying to keep her comfortable. She took the tea bowl in hand and raised it carefully.

  “Thanks. The third is the Bead, or ball.”

  “Like Eninald?”

  She nodded, “Through intimacy we can steal from others. Knowledge, power. Life.”

  Oh no.

  “In doing so we take that power for ourselves, making us stronger.”

  “And the hunger?” I asked, knowing but not wanting to be correct.

  “Unlike magic, which you can chose to use or not with no pressure, these gifts want to be used. They want to lure people to you. They want to make them weak. They want to consume people entirely and make you stronger. They crave it. Hunger for it. And much like a sweet, once you’ve had a taste you want more.”

  My lips quivered. We were so similar, but so different. I had fought my hunger and she... I couldn’t finish the thought, but the words spilled from my mouth regardless. “So, you, you learned to be seductive....”

  “Yes,” Rin bluntly agreed, without a hint of guilt or shame in her voice. Clarity came in, she hadn’t been reluctant because of any moral compunctions with what she had done, but because she knew I wouldn’t be comfortable with this. But, I had asked for this, and she wasn’t going to shy from the truth now.

  “The reason I am the way I am is to make it more likely that I can isolate a man, or woman, and then kill them and take their knowledge for myself. And if we’re going to go along on this plan and do the Gods’ dirty work, I suggest you start doing the same. We’re going to need every advantage we can get if we want to survive.”