Page 53 of Yumi and the Nightmare Painter

Curious. Design hadn’t been surprised that Yumi could make this body look like hers. Yumi had rewritten Painter’s shape somehow—and the method apparently had to do with her calling as a yoki-hijo. Perhaps if Painter were more skilled, he’d be able to makeherbody look likehis?That would be a disaster of incredible magnitude, but perhaps it was what the spirits wanted?

She didn’t know. But shewouldfind out.

She finished her brushing, so frigid she felt like she’d never be warm again. This was her duty. She stepped toward the door, then paused. She was wearing only a single towel. But…well, itwasjust Painter. She pushed out into the main room, which was even colder than the bathroom. Her skin immediately puckered with goosebumps. She still half believed this place was the land of the dead and frozen spirits.

Painter stood near his heaps of clothing, and had changed. He wore stiff trousers, a simple shirt, and then a second shirt over that with long sleeves, untucked and unbuttoned. It looked…sloppy, but in a managed way? A little like him, actually.

“You were right,” he said, holding his hands to the sides. “I couldn’t touch them at first, but then I…I don’t know, I cleared my mind, then thought only about a specific article of clothing. When I reached for it that way, I could grab it. A copy of it, at least.”

“Its soul,” she said. “Youmeditated!”

“No!” he said defensively. “I was thinking about something. What I wanted to wear.”

“You cleared your mind first,” she said, pointing. “Youlearnedsomething!”

He shrugged indifferently, then noticed her picking through the clothing Akane had bought her, so he turned his back toward her to allow her to dress with some privacy.

“Today,” she said as she strapped on the bra, “you will teach me how to paint.”

“I’m not certain I want to,” he said, arms folded, facing away. “What I do is dangerous, Yumi.Especiallyif a stable nightmare is involved.”

“We already decided this,” she said, trying to dress as quickly as shecould, to get covered in something that would hopefully keep her warm. “The spirits might have sent me to stop the stable nightmare.”

“Wedidn’tdecide that,” he replied. “We discussed thepossibility. You can’t face a stable nightmare, Yumi. They require the expertise of extremely talented painters—far beyond my skill level, let alone that of a neophyte.”

“But we can’t let it roam. You’re the one who said that it will be out there hurting people.”

“Itmightbe,” Painter said. “Or it might not. It appeared close to becoming fully stable, but what do I know? I’ve never seen one like that before. It could take weeks to complete the process, particularly if it’s clever and careful. If that’s true, someone else is bound to discover it eventually. Then the experts will get called.”

“And if it kills someone first?” she asked.

He didn’t respond.

“I’m r-ready,” she said.

“Fine,” he said, turning around. “I’ll teach you, butonlyso you can defend yourself against…” He frowned, looking at her standing there in one of her dresses and tops, arms wrapped around herself. “Are your teeth chattering?”

“Is th-that what you c-call it?” she asked, her jaw trembling from the cold. “I’ve never been this c-cold before.”

“Never?” he asked, seeming surprised.

“No,” she said, shivering. “If you get c-cold, you just l-lie down. D-depending on how h-hot the floor is.”

Perhaps showering in that cold water hadn’t been the smartest idea. Her body wasnotdealing with it well.

“Here,” he said, walking to the wall. “See this dial? Turn it up to increase the heat in the room.”

“From the floor?” she asked, hopeful.

“Uh, no,” he said, pointing at the top of the wall. “Vents from a small hion heater.”

Pity. But she shook her head, and would have done so even if it had heated the floor. “No.”

“No?” he said. “I canseeyou shivering, Yumi.”

“I g-got used to this place after a l-little while before,” she said. “Besides, it is d-dangerous for me to get t-too comfortable in your w-world. I will instead accept w-what the spirits have g-given me.”

Painter gaped at her as if she’d sprouted leaves and started flying like a tree. “You,” he said, “areso(lowly) strange.” He inspected the dial on the wall, then stuck his finger at it, fiddling. Soon after, a hum came from the vent.

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