Page 43 of Yumi and the Nightmare Painter

“Do they…feed you?”

Why did she soundhopeful? “No,” he said. “You need to do that part on your own.”

“Well, as long as I don’t have to make it,” she said, hands on her hips as she surveyed the clothing she’d laid out.

“You’re just going to leave it there?” he asked.

She hesitated, then glanced at him. “Is there…another place where it should go?” She looked at the heaps of clothing.

“Closet,” he said, gesturing, “has hangers and a rod.”

“Oh!” She walked over. “How clever! Your people think of so many interesting things.”

“I…suspect your people have closets, Yumi,” he said.

She cocked her head. “I guess maybe they do. I’ve never been inside another person’s home.” She began hanging the clothes. “Is there money here somewhere I can use at the noodle shop?”

“In the can on the counter,” he said. “But Yumi, I don’t think you should go. So far we’ve been lucky. Akane hasn’t asked too many questions, and hasn’t noticed the oddities about you. But the longer you spend around people, the more dangerous it gets.”

“Dangerous?” she said. “Getting clothing? Eating dinner?”

“Someone’s bound to ask questions you can’t answer,” he said. “They might start poking around, getting suspicious. Eventually someone will find out I don’thavea sister. Then things start getting awkward.”

“This is why lies are bad,” she said, shutting the closet doors. “We should have told them the truth at the start.”

“Oh? And how did it go telling Liyun the truth? And telling the foreman about the nightmare? How well did that work?”

“These mistakes are due to our inadequacy,” she said. “We should try again, presenting Liyun with the truth in a more convincing way.”

“No,” he said. “She’ll just think we’ve decided to make her life terrible for some reason.”

Yumi averted her eyes.

“It could be even worse here, if you tell the truth,” he said. “They’ll demand proof you can’t provide. What if they think you’re insane? Or that you’ve killed me?”

She looked at her feet. “I thought…maybe the other painters could help me. Figure out what I’m supposed to do. It sounded…nice to talk to them.”

“That group?” Painter snorted. “They’re too exclusive for people like us, Yumi. You might be a novelty to them now, but they’ll drop you as soon as something more interesting comes along. Trust me.”

“Akane is nice. You said she was nice to you.”

“She was. At first.” He turned away, not wanting to think about those times.

Yumi was quiet for a moment, then retrieved the money and brushed past him, heading toward the stairs. “I want to do it anyway.”

A second later, he was yanked after her.Thataspect of this was extremely unfair. How was it that he got bullied by her when he was physical, but then he ended up being pulled along like a dog on a leash whenshewas the one with the body?

They met Akane below, now in a simpler outfit of slacks and a blouse. Not exactly what he’d call painting gear, but it was as dressed down as she got. Akane led Yumi around the corner to the Noodle Pupil, and Painter followed sullenly. He couldn’t have said what made him want to avoid this place. Perhaps it was the way that Akane had adopted Yumi so easily. Reminded him of how easily he’d been dropped.

Not that he could, in all honesty, blame them.

He felt better though when they stepped into the restaurant. The place was familiar, and even without a body he could smell the warm scents of broth and green onions. In here, the clatter of bowls and utensils felt somehowsofterthan it did in other restaurants.

Akane hung her oversized painter’s bag on the arm of the statue in the front of the shop, the one that (in case you’ve forgotten) contained the body of an exceedingly bored storyteller. At least the eggs were gone by that point.

Painter’s former friends sat at the rear, in their usual place. As he followed the two women over, he felt…annoyed. He’d wanted for solong to be invited to this table. To rejoin in this familiar laughter, as he had during school.

It turned out there was an easy way to get the others to let him back in: he just had to be invisible.

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