Page 73 of Yumi and the Nightmare Painter

“Don’t you think I would have wanted to have thechoice?” Yumi asked through Painter.

“You have the choice,” Liyun said. “You always have. Forgive me for not pointing you toward it, as it would have destroyed you.”

She left then.

“I (lowly)hatethat woman,” Painter muttered.

“Please don’t say that,” Yumi whispered.

“You defend her?” Painter said, standing. “After what she did to you?”

“She’s my…” She couldn’t form the word. “She raised me. The best she knew how. And she is right; I’m still a servant of the people and the spirits. So nothing changes.”

“Nothing?” he said.

“Very little of importance.”

“Your happiness is nothing ‘little,’ Yumi.”

“You think I’m happier?” she said. “Look at me and tell me I’mhappierthis way, Painter.”

He met her eyes, then glanced away. “Well,” he finally said, “I think youwillbe happier, once this difficult time passes. I think the spiritsbelieve that too. Have you thought that maybethisis why they wrapped us up in this? So you could learn to be free?”

“Haveyouthought that maybe they approached me instead of any other yoki-hijo,” she said, “becauseIwas trained to be absolutely obedient to their will? Apparently that’s rarer than I thought.”

She stalked out the door that Liyun had left open. He followed behind, fortunately—because otherwise she’d have been yanked right back toward him.

At the cool spring, she tossed off her clothing and strode straight into the water, then dove underneath and let the soft coolness enwrap her. She turned over and floated to the surface, staring up into the sky filled with twirling plants, kept from drifting too far by the attentive crows and flyers. So far beyond reach that they might as well have been on another planet.

Painter stepped into the water himself, but didn’t start washing. Instead he turned over and floated as well, quiet, drifting next to her.

Yumi squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to let him hear her sniffling. If he did hear, he didn’t say anything.

“I’m glad,” she whispered at last, “to know. Even if it hurts to realize how I’ve been lied to. Even if I’m not happier rightnow. I’m glad to know. So thank you. For pushing for the truth.”

“I didn’t do it to find the truth,” he whispered back. “I was annoyed and reckless.”

“That’s what you needed to be,” she said. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe the spirits wanted this for me.”

She had trouble imagining that to be true. Likely thousands of yoki-hijo had lived following the traditions she had. If the spirits had disliked this style of treating their servants, then surely they’d havedone something about it long ago. The shifts in how her kind were treated seemed more cultural than doctrinal.

Though that raised an ugly question: Did the spirits care at all? She’d talked to them, interacted with them, petitioned them. They didn’t think like people did. Didn’t understand as people did. So why would they care whether she ate her own food or was served by someone else?

Before, her trust in the system had prevented these kinds of questions. Now no such barrier remained. Could she visit Torio City? Could she know her family? Have friends? Could she have something that resembled a normal life?

What evenwasa normal life?

“What is it like?” she asked softly. “Being able to decide for yourself what to do each day?”

“You’ve tasted it a little in my world. It’s like that.”

“It must be overwhelming,” she whispered, “to simply…be able to do anything. To be able to make friends with whoever you want. Pick your profession. I can barely select a broth for noodles. You’re so good at all of that, Painter. How?”

“It’s…not as easy for me as you think, Yumi.”

She turned her head in the water and looked toward him floating there, staring at the sky. What did he think when he saw the plants up there, so high? When he watched the flocks of butterflies scatter as crows soared past, sending individual plants spinning? Did he see freedom, or something else?

“Just because youcantalk to anyone,” Painter said, “doesn’t mean you will know what to say.”

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