Page 110 of Yumi and the Nightmare Painter

“Again,” Painter said, keeping his hand on the device, “Shard? Splinter? Virtuosity?”

“Still not getting into it,” Design said. “Regardless, I see no evidence of Connection to the past in your spiritweb. Nikaro, you—absolutely, assuredly, conclusively—havenotbeen time traveling. This is definite.”

“Do I have a Connection to another world?” Painter asked. “Can you read that?”

“Neither of you,” she said, “have been traveling to other worlds. You’re from this planet, both of you. I can seethateasily. Though…Yumi has fewer Connections to other people than I’d expect. That’s not related to her power; it feels more like…”

“Like I don’t know anyone?” she whispered.

“Yeah, that!” Design said. “Never seen a person with so few Connections. You’re a very private individual, I take it.”

“Yes,” she said, looking down.

“I wonder what that’s like,” Design said. “But I don’t wonder it enough to try it.”

“How did you see her Connections to others?” Painter said. “I thought you said you couldn’t read her well.”

“I could seethat,” Design said, rolling her eyes as if they were supposed to understand why. “She’s Connected toyou, obviously. I could see that without the device. And a few others. Then there are these thirteen odd lines…”

“Thirteen?” Yumi said, standing up from her stool.

“Yup!” Design said. “Connection lines are easy to see at times, but notoriously hard to read. I don’t know what these are Connected to. Didn’t look like family though. More a thematic Connection…”

“Yumi?” he asked.

“There are currently thirteen other yoki-hijo,” Yumi said. “Where? Where are they?”

“I can’t read that,” Design said.

“Then what good is this?” Yumi said, gesturing to the device.

“What good is… Yumi, do you understand what amiraclethis fabrial is? It’s reading things that until very recently you’d need a highly specialized individual who could—”

“Are they here?” Yumi asked. “This world. Nearby?”

“Definitely this world,” Design said. “That direction, somewhere.” She waved vaguely to the west, toward the near portion of the shroud where Painter patrolled. “But…” She sighed as Yumi dashed from the building.

Painter scrambled to follow, caught off guard. “Yumi?” he shouted, stumbling out onto the street. “Yumi. You promised the others you’d stay away from…”

She was running down the street and seemed not to be listening. He took off after her, catching up, then joined her as she eventually emerged from the outer ring of warehouses onto the road that circled Kilahito. She slowed here, walking up to the shroud—dangerously close.

“Yumi?” Painter said, approaching from behind, and reached out—but stopped just short of touching her.

Finally she sank to her knees and bowed her head. He walked around to her side and crouched there, worried.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I thought… Actually, I wasn’t thinking. Ifelt. That I wanted to see them. Be with them. It overcame me.” She looked at him. “I knew one of them, when I was a child. We were trained together. Did you know that?”

He shook his head.

“Then they took her, separated us,” Yumi whispered, “when we were growing to know each other too well. Wasn’t good for me, Liyun said, to form an attachment. In the years since, I’ve never met another one of them.”

“What, really?” he said. “Not even in passing?”

She shook her head.

“That feels tragic,” he said, settling down beside her and staring at the shroud. Black on black. He knew it was shifting and moving, but hefeltit more than hesawit.

“How did you deal with the loneliness?” she asked softly. “When you were younger?”

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