Page 74 of Yumi and the Nightmare Painter

“Is that why things are so strange between you and the other painters?You all have so many things youcouldsay, that you don’t knowwhatto say?”

“Something like that.”

“You could make other friends,” she said.

“I’ve never really known how,” he said, his voice low as he drifted. “Itshouldbe easy. Everyone else makes it seem that way. But…if that’s the case…why didn’t it work for me?”

“You didn’t try hard enough, maybe?” she said.

“That’s what my parents say,” he said. “That I should just go…try. ‘Just go talk to someone!’ they’d say. So I would. I’d gather my courage, stumble over, and say the wrong things. I’d feel like an awkward fool, and people would laugh at me. After that my parents would say, ‘Well, you shouldn’t have done itthatway, son.’ But whatisthe way?”

He turned his head to look toward her. “I know it sounds ridiculous to you. I had all the opportunities. My life was easy, liberated. But…I always felt like I was standing on the other side of a large glass window. I could see the world passing beyond it, could even pretend I was part of it. But that barrier was still there. Separating me from everyone else.” He looked away. “That sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”

“No…” She closed her eyes. “I understand invisible walls, Painter.”

She let her hand float outward, near his. She could feel him doing the same, reaching toward her, then stopping. And she wondered. She could touch the water, float in it, because she felt sheshould. She could pick up clothing for a similar reason.

Was there a version of this, a way of thinking, where she could touch him? She let her fingers brush his.

It didn’t work—instead of feeling his fingers, she felt that shiver, that burst of warmth travel up through her arm and strike her to thecore. She gasped, splashing upright at the shock of it. Then she sank down so only her head showed. He sputtered and turned toward her, water streaming across his face.

“Painter,” she said, eager. “Let’s break the rules. Even Liyun agrees…I can do that! Let’stryit.”

“Isn’t that what I’ve been doing?” he said, wiping his face.

“Let’s do somethingmore,” she said, her eyes wide. “Let’s do something crazy. Something unexpected.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know! You choose. You’re the one with free will.”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“I might have it too,” she admitted, “but mine is provisional. Come on. What are we going to do?”

He studied her for a moment, then blushed deeply. What was that about?

Oh.

“Seriously?” she said, splashing him. “That’swhere your mind went?”

“You’re surprised?” he said, gesturing. “Really?” He shook his head, then began soaping up to start the actual bathing part of, well, bathing.

She considered, and soon felt foolish for her sudden impulse to violate rules. What would she have done if she’d been alone? Run through the town insulting people? Stare at each and every person instead of lowering her eyes? A part of her was tickled at the thought.

“What if,” Painter said, “we figured out what those scholars are doing in that tent of theirs?”

“What?” Yumi rose and took some soap. “By asking them?”

“Um, no, Yumi.” He smiled. “We would not ask.”

“What would we do, then?”

“Sneak into their tent,” he said, making sneaking motions with his fingers. “See what we can learn about their equipment. Maybe sabotage it.”

She felt her jaw drop, gritty soap powder trickling through her fingers.

He noticed, pausing, and looked toward her. “What?”

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