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Jihoon stood so close his shoulder bumped hers, and Miyoung tried to scoot away.

“Don’t be a baby.” Jihoon stepped closer again.

“The umbrella is too small.”

“Which is why you should be grateful I’m sharing it,” Jihoon said.

“It’smyumbrella.”

“I thought it was a gift.” Jihoon blinked innocently, an exaggeration that made Miyoung want to laugh. So she frowned instead.

A breeze swept against the umbrella, pushing it back so the moon came into full view. The sight of it made Miyoung’s stomach clench. Her hunger was twice what it should be. A reminder that without her bead inside of her to hold the energy, she was losing strength too quickly.

She lowered her eyes to the shining asphalt.

“Does it affect you now?” Jihoon asked, and she knew he referred to the moon.

“I can always feel it.” Miyoung tried to ignore the pains running through her muscles like wild horses, a reminder that somethingwas missing inside. She shoved her hands into her jacket, tightening her fingers around the yeowu guseul. It warmed against her palm, a small comfort in the cold. “My mother says gumiho are always women because we gain our power from the moon.”

“And what is a man?” Jihoon asked.

“Dinner.” She chuckled as Jihoon stopped short, giving her a raised brow.

“Myth says men are the sun and the moon is his wife,” Mi-young said. “The moon and the sun both live in the sky but they are not together.”

“It’s just a fable.”

“I live in a world of fables.”

“But you live in the human world, too. You go to school. You do homework. You ride the bus.”

Miyoung heard a note of frustration in Jihoon’s voice, but couldn’t decipher why.

“My mother thinks it best I learn to naturally assimilate. What better crash course in the pitfalls of humanity than public school?”

Jihoon gave a hearty laugh, his dimples deepening. The sound of it warmed her.

“Well, it’s working. Hating school is as normal as you can get.”

“I don’t hate school.” Miyoung sighed. In fact, she loved it. Learning new things, being able to pretend she could have such basic problems as homework and tests. “But school comes with kids, a lot of them. And gumiho don’t do well in crowds.”

“Why?”

“In all the old folktales, we lived in mountains, feeding off travelers. There’s a reason for that.”

Jihoon nodded, and the lack of disgust on his face encouraged her.

“People don’t travel cross-country by foot anymore. So we need to be where the people live. But the more people we’re around, the more likely someone will figure us out.”

“Is that so bad?”

Of course he would ask, but not everyone was like Jihoon.

“My mother knew a gumiho once. She believed we could be honest with those we loved. Perhaps they only feared the myth of the gumiho because they’d only been shown the monstrous sides of us. After all, if they loved us when they thought we were human, shouldn’t they love us no matter what?”

“And?” Jihoon asked, leaning forward, curiosity clear on his face.

“Let’s just say it didn’t end well for that gumiho.” Miyoung didn’t feel like rehashing the doomed tale. “Crowds can become mobs very easily.”