Page 46 of Yumi and the Nightmare Painter

She glanced at him, then smiled. And suddenly he felt ashamed for his earlier joy at her discomfort. Perhaps he should have seen it before, but this was a person who somehow felt more isolated than he did.

He’d thought himself alone. He’d barely understood the word.

Her smile faltered, and she averted her eyes. “I wish I could believe you were right. But the spirit that came to me, Painter…it washurting. Itneededsomething. This isn’t a reward. It might not be a punishment or a test, but it’s no reward.”

“You could still enjoy it,” he said. “While you can.”

She glanced back at him. And instinctively, he reached his hand toward hers. She looked like she could use something to hold. But…then he stopped, because he couldn’t touch her even if he wanted to. He blushed, feeling foolish.

A bowl clattered to the floor.

They both jumped, turning toward Design—who had just left the kitchen. She didn’t seem to notice the bowl of soup she’d dropped; instead she stood there slack-jawed.

“Storms!” Design said, staringdirectlyat Painter. “Nikaro? Are youdead?”

It took Yumia moment to register what had happened.

This strange woman with the white hair and the outrageously full figure was looking at Painter. She’d called him by name.

She could see him.

Someone couldsee Painter.

“Design!” he said, leaping to his feet. “You canseeme?”

“Um…” Design said, glancing to the sides at the nearby patrons, who were staring at her because of the dropped bowl. “Nope. Nope, can’t see any ghosts here. Mortalshatetalk of ghosts.” She raised her eyes and spoke louder. “Just an accident with my clumsy, inefficient meat-fingers! I didnotsee a ghost. Everyone, enjoy the noodles!”

“Design!” Painter said, pained.

Design nodded toward the ground in an exaggerated way. Then she crouched to begin cleaning up the noodles. Painter rushed around the bar, and Yumi—feeling awkward—grabbed some bar cloths and did the same, kneeling down.

This left the three of them all out of sight but perfectly audible—except maybe Painter. This method seemedmoresuspicious to Yumi. But she didn’t know how normal people acted, so maybe she wasn’t the best judge.

“Painter!” Design said. “How did you die? Did you choke on an overly large noodle?”

“I don’t think I’m dead,” he said, whispering for some reason. “A couple days ago, I started waking up onherworld! I think it’s the star—like, I think I’m visiting it. Then when I fall asleep, I wake up back here—but I’m like a ghost, and somehow she’s here now.”

Design looked at Yumi, then stuck out her hand. “Hello! Would you like to shake meat-appendages?”

“Uh…” Yumi took the hand, then bowed. Strangely, Design didn’t bow back, but only waggled her hand a little.

“Nice to meet you,” Design said. “You’re not a ghost.”

“We haven’t been able to figure out what’s going on,” Painter said. “Or why I wear her body when I’m in her world, but she doesn’t wear mine when she’s here.”

“Uh, Painter?” Design said, nodding her head toward Yumi. “Yeah, that’s totally your body.”

“But…” he said. “It looks like her. Even to you, right?”

“Yup,” Design said. “But I can see the line of Connection from you to it. I’ve got this, um, strong Cognitive aspect? Hard to explain without numbers, and mortals get cross-eyed when I use those instead. I’m notreallyhere, like I’ve told you, so I can see Cognitive Shadows even when they don’t want to be seen. Also, your body is a girl’s body now.”

“What?” Painter said.

“Who are you?” Design said, ignoring Painter and looking at Yumi. “You’ve got astormingstrong Spiritual aspect, highly Invested in some strange way. Otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to rewrite his bodywith your soul and warp it to match your sense of self. Shrinking and reshaping the bones, stretching and shifting the muscles… Fun stuff.”

Painter’s face paled.

Yumi tried to take it in stride. “I…didn’t mean to do any of these things, honored hostess. It was done by the spirits because of some kind of desperate need.”

---