Page 44 of Yumi and the Nightmare Painter

Akane presented Yumi with a flourish. “Behold,” she said, “Nikaro’slittle sister.”

There were three others in the group: two girls, one guy. That meant Tojin was outnumbered three to one in the clique—unless you went by sheer muscle mass. Painter was reasonably certain Tojin outweighed the other three combined.

“No (lowly) way,” Tojin said, sitting backward on his chair as he usually did, sleeves rolled up as if they were too intimidated by his massive forearms and had shriveled out of respect. He was squeezing some kind of hand exercise device, ten reps in each hand before swapping, because of course he was.

“That’s Tojin,” Akane said, gesturing to him.

“Hey,” he replied, swapping hands.

“Tojin,” Painter said, leaning in toward Yumi, “is exactly what he appears to be. The type of guy who would roll up his sleeves and do exercises at the dinner table to get a better chance at showing off to the women. Henevermisses a chance to display his body to the girls.”

“This is Masaka,” Akane said, gesturing toward a girl all in black, huddled in her chair with her knees up, sketchpad in front of her. Masaka hated showing skin, and wore a scarf to hide even her neck. She peeked over the top of the sketchpad with narrowed eyes, dark beneath her bangs.

Yumi stepped back in shock. Masaka had that effect on people.

“Rumors in school were,” Painter whispered, “she had to becomea painter as part of a plea deal with the judge after stabbing someone during her lower school years. She doesn’t talk much. Too busy plotting.”

Masaka punctuated something on the page at that moment, then looked up again at Yumi—who took another unconscious step backward.

“Don’t let her stern demeanor get to you,” Akane said with her usual cheerfulness. “She’s a softy inside. Besides, staring only makes her angry. And finally, here is Izumakamo!”

A girl in trousers and a sweatshirt stood up, proffering her hand. Yumi stared at it.

“You take it,” Painter explained, “and bow. It’s a kind of greeting.”

Yumi hesitantly did as he said, taking Izzy’s hand and bowing as the other girl did likewise. Then Yumi glanced toward Painter, as if expecting an explanation of who this was, like he’d given for the other two.

“Just watch,” Painter said instead.

“Yumi…” Izzy said, thoughtful. Then she dug into a thick encyclopedia-style book, flipping pages quickly. “Starts with aY…two syllables… Birth year and month?”

“Say you’re year of the dragon,” Painter told her. “It would look strange if we’re the same age. And, let’s say, the month of rain. For fun.”

“Um…” Yumi said. “Year of the dragon. Month of rain?”

“Ah yes…” Izzy continued, flipping a few more pages. “Oh, here it is. Guri and Shishi’s wedding episode! The first wedding, I mean. You will have very good luck today, Yumi. Very good indeed. Great day for making promises.”

Yumi regarded the young woman, baffled. Nearby, Tojin snickered, swapping hands again with his exercise device.

“Don’t you laugh, Tojin,” Izzy said. “This is atotallylegitimate science.”

“Don’t worry about her, Yumi,” Akane said, leaning in and whispering. “She’s special.”

“My talentisspecial!” Izzy declared. “You wait and see. Soon people are going to catch on, andeveryonewill be getting their dramascope. I’ll be famous for inventing it, and you all won’t be able to make fun of me any longer. You’ll have to wait in line.”

“Wait in line,” Tojin said. “To make fun of you.”

“No. Um…”

“Presumably,” he said, flexing his hand, “because so many other people will want a chance to do so?”

“That isnotwhat I meant,” Izzy said. She then leaned toward Masaka and whispered conspiratorially, “When I’m rich and famous, want to be my bodyguard?”

Masaka shrugged.

“Great,” Izzy said. “Your first job will be to beat up Tojin when he tries to tell everyone he knew me before I was famous.”

“I’m…confused,” Yumi said.

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