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mumbled.

At the words, several in the class cut their eyes in my direction. They were forbidden to outright stare, less they also end up being punished.

The instructor seemed to have an inspiration and looked around the room. “Jiaying!”

She was practicing with another student across the room and instantly froze. She stepped back and turned to face the instructor. “Yes, master.”

“Take this girl through the new forms. You’re free to issue motivation if she doesn’t do it perfectly.” He leaned forward. “And I’ll issue motivation to you if she doesn’t.”

“Yes, master.”

Jiaying stepped in front of me under the watchful eyes of the instructor. We each took the beginning forms. I had practiced with other students before, but only a few times with Jiaying. She was the best in our group. The instructors rarely issued motivation to her. All they had was praise. Most of our group hated her.

We were dressed in the same loose-fitting pants and shirt, and even in the same shade of pale gray. And as I readied for the first movement, I noticed even our black hair was cut the same length. It was almost like looking in a mirror.

“Wait!” she barked. I held my place. She leaned toward me and jerked me one way and then the other. “Like this,” she said loudly. And then she brought her face close, coming within a finger of my ear. She breathed, “It’s your monthly, isn’t it?”

She stepped back, and I tried to keep my face impassive. Was it that obvious? While I may have the chest of a boy, my insides were changing into a woman. The cramps had been especially bad this morning. So bad, my concentration had lapsed, and I missed some of the initial demonstration. I gave a tiny nod.

She nodded back. “We’ll go through this very slowly, so watch closely.”

And Jiaying began to move. Slowly, so slowly. I had to fight to move that slow. My muscles screamed at me to go faster, but I ignored them and followed Jiaying’s lead: turn, step, point, stab, block, slice—going through the entire routine. It was like watching another me—until we reached the end.

I blinked in surprise. I had made it all the way through.

“Again, faster,” she said.

And we did it again, it was still slower than I would have liked, but I made it through.

Three more times, we went through the routine. The instructor came back over and observed the last time. When we finished, he nodded in satisfaction. “Ten more times. Both of you.”

As the instructor turned away, Jiaying moved close to adjust my stance. “Next time, signal me,” she whispered. “I can show you an herb in the garden that will help.”

And when she stepped back, she did the oddest thing.

The side of her mouth curled up ever so slightly.

I couldn’t stop my own mouth from mirroring her.

I awoke slowly, feeling the presence of a comforting warmth beside me. My groggy brain was balking at the idea of actually letting me think. It almost felt bruised.

I slowly opened my eyes, expecting Zofie to be slumbering against me. Only it wasn’t. Fumiko lay curled up at my side sound asleep, her head resting on the edge of my shoulder, and her arm draped across my chest. I blinked, trying to clear the cobwebs and remember why she was there. Then it came to me—the skill transfer.

I rubbed my face, exhaustion washing over me. I was so tired. My arms and legs felt like I had run all night long, carrying a load of lead on my back. I desperately wanted to go back to sleep, but my thigh hurt too much from the teacher’s hits...

My eyes went wide. Fumiko had been the one hit, not me. I ran my hand down my leg and could feel the sore spots just under the skin. I shook my head. She had warned me about the after-effects, but I hadn’t thought they would be that strong. I think I had bruises.

I felt someone looking at me and glanced over at Cabrina. I found her sitting cross-legged on her pallet, watching me intently. “Did you have sex with her last night?”

I immediately sat up and regretted it—my head was pounding. “No, we did not!” I rubbed my aching temples. “Why in the world would you even ask that?”

“Well, you and Mistress Fumiko are lying on the same blanket. Isn’t that customary after having sex? My host is very inexperienced on human reproduction, and both of us are very curious.”

“No!” I shouted. “We were just... sleeping.”

Cabrina looked at me skeptically. “My host says it’s only done in private, and it’s typical for partners to deny it. Why is that? If you’re going to reproduce, why don’t you just do it!”

“We did not have sex!” I yelled.

My shout awoke Fumiko, who realized we were lying a little too close to each other. She refused to look at me and immediately got up. “I’m going to get breakfast for Zofie,” and grabbing her boots, she was out the door.

For myself, I kicked my blankets to one side and grabbed my sword. I pulled it and held it before me. It felt different—wrong, yet right. Remembering the routine from Fumiko’s memory. I tried to mimic it, only to find my body moved by itself, flowing effortlessly through the motions. I went through them again much faster and was amazed at what I could do. The blade almost sang as I went through the form. The technique had worked. All I had to do now was practice.

My mind drifted to the other parts of the memory. To me, it felt like it happened just hours ago, when for Fumiko, it was half her lifetime away. I understood why she had chosen that memory, being exactly what I needed to learn

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