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my blessing.” Being weird was apparently her primary burden, though he wasn’t certain what was blessed about it. As they passed a shop selling many varieties of hion viewers, with actors moving across the windows in unison, she paused. “I thought yoki-hijo didn’t gawk,” he noted. “Oh, sorry,” she said softly, glancing ... |
stable nightmare?” “No,” Painter snapped. “I fought it off, thank you very much.” “He used his powers,” she said, “to drive it away.” The foreman squinted his eyes. “Nikaro. Used those half-rate paintings of his to drive away a stable nightmare?” “That’s what he said.” Yumi looked to Painter, who nodded firmly. The for... |
“What if the spirits sent me here to help you with this nightmare? What do we do?” “I’m thinking about it, okay?” Painter snapped. By the time they neared the apartment building though, he still didn’t have any good answers. Maybe…the nightmare would get noticed by someone else? But if it had gone this long without bei... |
attempt to help, albeit in a small way, was physically overwhelming. This place was just so strange. That sky felt like it would swallow her, but that was somehow the least of it. She’d seen enormous vehicles—carrying tons of people—moving through the nearby streets. These buildings towered around her, stacks of stones... |
door so he could follow her. Then all her attention was captured by the place inside those doors: a vast open room full of displays and statues wearing clothing. Hundreds of skirts hanging in artfully arranged racks. Shirts piled high in cubbies on the walls. Shoes in a thousand different varieties, raised up on tables... |
commanding primal spirits. “Ah,” Akane said, stepping back to join her. “Someone has remarkably good taste. What’s your size? I’ll go get one off the racks.” “No!” Yumi said, taking her by the arm. “I can’t, honored Akane. It’s too…daring.” Akane glanced toward the dress, then back at Yumi, who blushed. (Perhaps Akane ... |
of rooms apparently for trying on clothing. Painter sat outside as she stepped into one, though she didn’t have any clothing to try on yet—Akane was still gathering it. “What,” Yumi hissed at Painter through the open door, “is a ‘bra’?” “Undergarment,” he said. “For women.” He hesitated, then gestured toward his chest.... |
there were straps and a clip and…well, it took some work. She did pause while putting it on, marveling at the stretchiness of some of the cloth. How did they make it do that? She got the thing on finally, though she had to put it on backward to get the clip fastened, then twist it around and fit herself into it. It fel... |
seemed approving as well. Behind the two of them, Painter stood up straight, gawking at her. He probably thought she looked silly, as he knew the type of clothing she should be wearing. “That is wonderful,” Akane said. “We’re getting that one for sure. But here, try on the others! You have to see this pink one…” Akane ... |
it,” she said, hands on her hips as she surveyed the clothing she’d laid out. “You’re just going to leave it there?” he asked. She hesitated, then glanced at him. “Is there…another place where it should go?” She looked at the heaps of clothing. “Closet,” he said, gesturing, “has hangers and a rod.” “Oh!” She walked ove... |
He couldn’t have said what made him want to avoid this place. Perhaps it was the way that Akane had adopted Yumi so easily. Reminded him of how easily he’d been dropped. Not that he could, in all honesty, blame them. He felt better though when they stepped into the restaurant. The place was familiar, and even without a... |
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 ex... |
in. These weren’t his friends anymore. This feeling he felt? It was false. He turned to go as the food arrived, brought by one of Design’s assistants. Two bowls for Tojin—no noodles, just extra eggs and pork—and a small one for Masaka. There was nothing for Painter here. Why had he yearned so long to come back to this?... |
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 was hurting. It needed something. Th... |
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 not really here, like I’ve told you, so I can see Cognitive Shadows even when they don... |
endearing.” She set the bowl down and leaned forward. People on this planet…really liked their low-cut tops, didn’t they? “Eat,” Design said, pointing. Yumi started eating. It was a stronger flavor than she was used to—in fact, it was also a stranger flavor than she was used to. Spices she’d never tasted mixed in her m... |
elbows on the bar. “I’ve told basically everyone. They ignore me. If I were a more vengeful bit of God, I’d be offended. Fortunately, I’m eccentric instead. It’s endearing.” “She always says strange things like that,” Painter said, still addressing Yumi. “How was I to know she was being truthful rather than crazy?” Des... |
stuff you get on a planet when a god has been killed. “It’s what we came here to learn about. Well, what Hoid came here to learn about. But he turned into a statue the moment we arrived, and I was left to experiment at being a small business owner running one of the most notoriously difficult varieties of startup. Here... |
long as you’re in my body, you do as well!” He sighed, sitting on the cushioned altar thing. “We are going to fix this, whatever it is,” Yumi said, doing her best to summon Liyun’s force of will and sternness. “You will travel to my world, and you will learn the art of stacking. When we’re in your world, instead of ind... |
probably having trouble deciding what to say. We utterly failed at our duties yesterday. She will be humiliated. The thought of it twists my insides.” “You worry about her?” Painter said. “What about me?” “You are nothing,” Yumi said, her voice stern. “The yoki-hijo is nothing. When she arrives to speak with us—which s... |
Painter finally stood, and wasn’t chastised this time. The attendants continued dressing him, their heads down, seeming humiliated by proxy. He didn’t know much about them, having barely spoken to them despite all they’d done for him. The younger of the two was probably several years his senior, with an extremely pale ... |
of the heat comes from the ground,” Yumi said, frowning. “It’s not that much cooler in the trees. Besides, this is the place of ritual. You’d have the people of the town move all the rocks just for your convenience? That would be a shameful act.” Of course it would be. His gloves arrived, and he pulled them on—feeling ... |
she’d been as a young girl, always demanding explanations before doing as she was told. And yet…that tone in the spirit’s voice when it had spoken to her before beginning their swap—something was terribly wrong, or was going to go terribly wrong, and she had to stop it. Possibly through Painter. The spirits depended on... |
the more you know them. But beyond the obvious details like learning their favorite foods, we internalize the way that they react. The way that they express worry. For some, it’s the archetypal furrowed brow. For others it’s the way they linger, the way they won’t meet your eyes. It’s more than eyes, more than posture,... |
this day right. No more wasting time as she had the last time she’d been in his world. Painter yelped as she got far enough away that he was towed off the plush altar and to his feet. She glanced at him, but he just crossed the room and groggily waved for her to continue. She nodded, then shut the door and turned on th... |
said. “You meditated!” “No!” he said defensively. “I was thinking about something. What I wanted to wear.” “You cleared your mind first,” she said, pointing. “You learned something!” He shrugged indifferently, then noticed her picking through the clothing Akane had bought her, so he turned his back toward her to allow ... |
the vent. “Ha!” he said. “I made the viewer turn on last time, so I thought I might be able to do this too. I can feel the hion lines. I couldn’t move the dial, but I can tweak them somehow, make them activate…” A knock on the door interrupted further conversation. Timid, Yumi answered—worried she’d have to lie again. ... |
witness, the foreman will have to accept that it’s real. That will prove I wasn’t lying to him, and he’ll be forced to revoke my suspension and send for help.” “An excellent plan,” Yumi said, nodding as she walked up beside the trunk as well. “There’s something odd about that nightmare, Yumi,” Painter said softly. “Whe... |
and sustain the plants.” She tried to imagine that. There were places here other than Kilahito? How did one reach them? It seemed like everything out there was pure darkness. Yumi put aside her questions as Painter began coaching her through painting bamboo. She still didn’t understand why painting had anything to do w... |
I’ve shown you. Draw a thousand of them until you can do it by rote.” She nodded and began, though her fledgling efforts were pathetically out of proportion. How had he made it seem so easy? Well, she could absolutely do this a thousand times. That sounded like the perfect way to learn. She took the role of a dutiful s... |
break or something?” “Only if you offer it, Master Teacher,” she said, touching her forehead to the ground. He snorted. “Master? Do I look like a master of anything?” “You fill the role nonetheless,” she said, still bowed. “So, wait,” he said. “You’d have simply kept going? Until what? Until you collapsed?” “If it is r... |
which seemed to have found a sharpening stone. The bite of the rain, suddenly hungry. She closed the window and returned to her practice—six hundred and thirty-seven more bamboo paintings to go. If she had looked closer, or if she’d called to Painter, perhaps they would have noticed a living darkness in the alley—one t... |
clothing, Yumi’s instruction was humiliating. One week, and still she didn’t trust him to do anything without direct, condescending instruction. “Close your eyes,” she said, leaning forward to glare at him. “Now.” He sighed and complied. “Now, pick up a stone.” He selected one. Most were new today, having been replaced... |
kneepads on, he’d burned himself multiple times—and picked up a stone. He tried making a stack. The stones were unstable, so he tried again, this time aligning the centers of gravity. He eventually got it. At her prompting, he added another stone. And it stayed on. “Oh no,” he said under his breath. “What?” she asked. ... |
catch the taste of success herself, and was somewhat less demanding. Instead of looming over him and snapping out instructions, she spent more time showing him examples. Sadly, she couldn’t manage to build anything higher than a handful of stones before what she’d stacked started disintegrating to smoke. Her incorporea... |
instructions rather than doing what she loved—she could have been constructing stone towers all the while. It felt more tragic if both of them had been having such a bad time. He tried to see the stones as she did for his next few constructions, but that was less effective and he felt himself backsliding. He didn’t hav... |
flowery of forms, “you are welcome to our humble town.” Painter frowned. Those were the kind of linguistic forms they used in the historical dramas to address a king. It left little ambiguity about how scholars were regarded. Behind the four scholars, a group of younger men in smaller hats—simple black caps—opened the ... |
lives trapped by the invisible walls of expectation and responsibility? But it was an honor. Would it be so bad if no one had to bear that honor? The spirits are in pain, she thought. They want me to do something to save them. “I’ll bet,” she said, turning toward Painter, “this is why the spirits asked me for help. It’... |
what I’ve seen, Painter, annoying people is basically a religion to you.” She did feel mischievous saying such things to him, and it would have been proper for her to stop. But…why was he so amusing to tease? If he’d bowed his head, she would likely have felt guilty. Instead he raised his hands toward the heavens and s... |
for the tests. Yumi, trust me. If you don’t relax now and then, you’re going to stress yourself to the point that your mind rots. You need a break.” “Gotta rest the muscles between reps,” Tojin said. “Oh, great,” Painter said (lowly), stepping up behind her. “I’d almost managed to forget about the weightlifting metapho... |
that made them mysterious. She was fascinated by the ways that normal people conversed, and joked, and talked over each other, and laughed, and…and it was like a performance, each of them with memorized lines. How did they know when to speak or when to stop? When to tell a joke and when to share some fact? To try to ma... |
nose. Tojin appeared embarrassed. He was…shy? Really? Why would a shy person make such a display of himself, if not for battle? “It’s not for anything like that,” he said. “I just like to make the best of myself that I can. See how much I can do. Reach my limits, then pass them.” “To accomplish what?” Yumi asked. “That... |
He might not be the best, but he’s trying to learn stacking. And he picked it up quickly. Perhaps, though, she could see why he had some hard feelings for this group, if their first reaction to this news wasn’t concern, but dismissiveness. “Enough, enough,” Izzy said, holding up some paper with words written all over i... |
what she’d been about, instead staring at that strange sight. A glowing rope, whose ends vanished into nothing. “Your spiritweb,” Design was saying, “knows what body is yours. It remains Connected to it, you see. You form Connections like that with everyone—and to a lesser extent everything—you’ve known. Nifty, eh!” “A... |
anything about that world in the sky?” Painter asked. “Before coming here?” “Afraid we didn’t stop there,” she replied. “Heat from the ground, you say?” “Yes, and plants that fly!” Painter added. “Neat!” Design said. “Well, I might be able to confirm it to be sure. Your spiritweb’s Connection to your world will be fain... |
“Yumi,” he said. “Look at what you’ve been doing in my world. Feeding yourself, moving around freely. The spirits gave that to you. They aren’t going to care if I eat on my own.” She settled down nearby and held her head, not looking at him. That…really was a stronger reaction than he’d anticipated. Maybe…maybe he shou... |
fine. She has to do what I say.” “I’m. Trying. Not. To scream. Right now,” Yumi said between gasps. “Just. Leave. Me.” Well, all right. Her world. Her rules. Or something. He finished his meal, then threw open the door and nodded to the befuddled attendants standing outside. “Let’s go.” They held up their fans and hurr... |
let me do so. Liyun has to let us do so, even when she disagrees. Otherwise they’re not decisions. Otherwise, what she says about us being the ultimate decider? That is an untruth.” He glanced at Yumi. “And I know how you feel about those.” Finally, she sighed and pulled off her bulky nightgown—he had no idea how they ... |
then looked flabbergasted at Yumi, who had tied hers into a basic knot like she often did. She shrugged. “At least,” she said to him, “I didn’t dismiss the people who could have done this correctly for me.” A valid point. A short time later, the attendants dropped them off at the orchard shrine, where trees drifted and... |
quick painting of that—her lips, eyes, the shape of her teardrop face. All done with quick flourishes of the brush to evoke the correct image. An artistic shorthand that had become a form unto itself. She took this in stride. It was the kind of teasing he’d learned didn’t bother her—or, well, it bothered her in the rig... |
is concerned doesn’t mean I’m going to let you slacken under my tutelage!” He groaned, but went ahead and got to it, working hard on his stacks beneath the light of that strange sun. Why didn’t it burn out? What truly kept feeding it? After a solid few hours, the attendants brought him lunch. He again didn’t let Chaeyu... |
“Leave your clothing outside, Chosen,” she said, “so we can care for it.” She bowed and walked off. Hwanji, however, lingered. Painter hesitated in his doorway. He’d hardly spoken to the attendants, and to his embarrassment, he realized he barely knew them one from another—and any differentiation he could make was due ... |
by far. A schism in the religion. A couple hundred years old. Painter nearly laughed. He would have, if not for the horrified—betrayed—expression on Yumi’s face. How could it be that nobody had ever told her? She lives her life in ritual, he thought. Who is there to tell her? Who is there to even (lowly) talk to her? H... |
higher in the sky as hotspots on the ground went from warm to scalding. The plants spun like children playing in a rare spring rainfall. She watched them soar, and she envied their liberty. Even cultivated crops were granted more independence than she. As soon as she thought that, she quashed it. Crushing her longing, ... |
“I shall meet you at the place of ritual, where I shall wait upon your needs for the day, Chosen.” “Wait,” Yumi said through Painter. “That’s it? That’s the end? All you’re going to say?” “It is not uncommon,” Liyun said as she slipped on her clogs, “for a younger person to seek to stride past their boundaries. I had h... |
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. Y... |
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... |
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?” “Painter,” she said. “That would be illegal!” “You wanted to do something transgressive!” “Like getting dressed... |
a lifetime of training in proper behavior? She squeezed her eyes closed and followed him, cracking one eye, then the other. Painter hadn’t noticed her worry—he’d moved over to one of the larger trees and was pushing it with his finger, making it drift around on its chain. “How do these trees float again?” he said. “On ... |
silken, shimmering, and way too revealing of his figure. Underneath that was the wrap around his chest, and that was it. She silently prayed he wouldn’t go any further. “This,” he said, “is remarkably similar to what men wear around here.” “Except not,” she said. “Their outfits are completely different.” “Close enough.... |
in this place,” he whispered, “I’ll never know. But we…” He trailed off as he saw Yumi, her heart thundering like the ritual drum, her nerves dancers contorting before the spirits, her eyes the blazing bonfires of a night festival. “You all right?” he asked her. “That was the worst thing I’ve ever done!” she said, thro... |
cloth wall. It, with equal determination, pushed right back. Yumi glared at the cloth, rubbing her nose. Maybe she wasn’t showing it enough respect. She bowed to the wall as best she could from her narrow perch. “O wall of cloth,” she said, “grant me the honor of—” “What are you doing?” Painter hissed at her from behin... |
it.” “Have you seen her stacks?” said Sunjun. “The only thing she’ll be summoning in this town is an apology.” “You try starting it, Honam,” the leader said. “Once it’s primed, it will keep itself going. Should be enough energy in this town for that. As long as we don’t turn it off, we’ll be good.” “We don’t even know ... |
with some equipment, then pulled out a box with a trailing wire that he plugged into the larger machine. Yumi felt a coldness come over her. An actual physical coldness, not just a fear. The machine had stolen warmth from her. Sunjun turned the box, and the needle on a dial atop it swung toward Yumi. She scuttled away,... |
The obvious one really, considering the circumstances. He held out his hand to her. With his other hand he grabbed the chain holding the tree in place, then he mouthed one sentence. We go up. “Painter, that’s a very bad idea!” But the scholars were flooding out of the tent, and she didn’t have time to come up with some... |
tasting of something bright and clean. That’s why they rise, he thought. The air is humid up this high, evaporated by the hot stone below. So the plants rise to reach it… In that moment he envied this world that had light in the sky, as fragmented sunlight caught the dew and made each and every plant seem like it was w... |
gotten their machine working at last.” “Have they?” he said. “How unfortunate.” He rose and followed Liyun, Yumi trailing along behind him as if trying to hide in his shadow. Her expression kept alternating between ashamed and elated—the result of some strange emotional short circuit where both of her blinkers turned o... |
She was right. He took a few deep breaths, then started over. Hours passed, but most of the townspeople didn’t leave. They seemed to sense something was happening here as Painter managed a stack of ten, then a stack of nine, then a stack of twelve all in a row. Leaving those three in a line, he started into a fourth on... |
are there?” the scholar shouted back. “Sixteen at most! We currently have only fourteen. How long did the people of this town wait between visits of the yoki-hijo? Months? Years? These machines can be placed in every town and village, working all day.” Liyun didn’t reply. “You will see!” the scholar said. “We’ll remain... |
She believed it for the briefest moment, then saw his smirk. That earned him another pillow, this one straight through the head. On the viewer, Sir Ashinata and Lady Hinobi broke apart. This was a “historical” drama, according to Painter. Which meant they were pretending to be from another time, before things like show... |
in each body made for an odd schedule in some ways, but at least she could catch a drama each day. This one could turn out to be happy. Couldn’t it? Painter walked to the viewer to turn it off—he liked experimenting with what he could accomplish while a spirit. Yumi trailed over to the window to look out at the pure bl... |
for that nightmare.” He walked over. “You don’t even believe this is the reason we’re linked. You think it’s that machine and the scholars.” “Yes,” she admitted. By now they’d seen that it could legitimately draw its own spirits, without help from a yoki-hijo. It merely did so very slowly, at a rate of one or so a day.... |
probably be okay if she happened to be seen. Someone else would be patrolling his beat until his suspension was up. However, he said that the area was wide, and painters often moved between sections as they patrolled, chasing leads. As long as she didn’t encounter any painters up close who could identify her as Nikaro’... |
darkness. And on many of those whitewashed portions were paintings. Large murals painted with the ink of a nightmare painter—monochromatic, but incredibly detailed in contrast and subtlety of shade. “What are those?” she asked. “Painters put them up when they feel like it,” he said. “One section per painter.” “Where’s ... |
and watch for signs only near the rim of the city, because nightmares have to pass through there to get farther inward. If this nightmare always entered through my section of the perimeter, it could move through the entire city unchallenged.” A disturbing thought indeed. He waved her along with him into the alley, thou... |
and day out. Foreman Sukishi didn’t like that. He never liked me. I wasn’t…well regarded in school, as I told you. So he’s thought the worst of me. And he always assumed I was doing bamboo because I wasn’t actually finding nightmares.” They reached the second story of the fire escape, near the sign of the nightmare. An... |
being attacked by one of these things. Maybe I don’t have all the answers, maybe there are holes in our understanding, but I know they’re a threat.” She nodded to him, took a deep breath, and started to climb up to see what was in that window. Painter, however, waved for her to halt. “My turn to be the ghost,” he said.... |
skies. With those leglike tendrils stretched out fully, it would easily be fifteen feet across. Yumi froze, a powerful anxiety seizing her in its grip. She wanted to bolt, to scramble down the steps, to run until her strength gave out. But she couldn’t move. Something buried deep inside her recognized that monstrous fi... |
with them so they didn’t assault someone else. Still, a loud noise could disorient and frighten off a nightmare, and was a last resort for a painter who was out of supplies or otherwise indisposed. Not that this was her line of thinking. Her line of thinking amounted to: “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!” There are things a classro... |
a new recruit! Please pay us no mind.” Akane seized Yumi by the arm and towed her down the steps, past a befuddled Tojin. Seriously, where did they find clothes that fit him? Did they just stitch two regular shirts together? Painter sighed, following the group. Yumi looked back at him, her eyes wide, panicked. He shrug... |
have to worry about his former friends anymore. There was a freedom in watching that door shut, entirely, forever. Sure, it hurt. Like acupuncture gone wrong, all over his body, spiking him through the nerves and into his heart. At least it was over. At least he knew. Akane got Yumi seated and ordered her some warm bro... |
“Wait,” Design said. “Weren’t you complaining the other day, down here, about how intense she is?” “Yeah.” He smiled. “You can’t like it and hate it all at once.” “Your friend is right,” he said. “You do have some inaccurate ideas about mortals.” “It’s endearing and amusing.” He basked in that heat one last time. “I lo... |
badly.” Yumi cocked her head. “He lied,” Izzy said. “Back in school, he told us he’d gotten in. Tryouts were a year into our two years of training. He told us he’d been selected—and he managed to convince our professors somehow, although they should have known who got in and who didn’t. Nikaro left class half the day t... |
They don’t skulk and hide once they’ve formed. They start murdering.” “It’s proof,” Tojin said. “He said he saw one…what? Two weeks ago?” “Twenty-seven days,” Yumi whispered. “Right,” Tojin said, with a nod. “Over two weeks. It would have attacked by now.” “He goes out at night, doesn’t he?” Izzy said. “He tells you th... |
the bottom. She’d promised not to open it. But what was a promise made to someone like him? She ripped it open. And found wonder inside. Gorgeous paintings of startling skill. She gasped, putting a hand to her lips. Dozens and dozens of amazing pieces, incredible in their variety. Streets that seemed to come alive. Peo... |
I’m so bad at art that I can’t even see why I got rejected. It crushed me, Yumi. It destroyed me. “I went to the others. I knew I needed to tell them. I knew it. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Everything would have been different if I’d simply said it. But I had just been ripped apart, and I saw the hope in their eyes, and I ... |
took you a couple weeks!” She looked up to him, and her heart broke to see the tears on his cheeks. Phantom, ghostly tears. She reached up and hesitated right before touching him, then put a finger to the tear—wetting her finger. He glanced away. “Well,” he said, wiping his eyes, “this is who those spirits stuck you wi... |
can hold six horses. And on planets that are literally illuminated by free-flowing lines of light in the sky. Because carnivals don’t need electricity, Investiture, or other forms of power. The people are the energy of a carnival. Excitement bleeds. It flows like rivers. Ask any carnie, and they’ll agree that there is ... |
head. “Games?” he said. “You play them?” “Like an instrument?” He stopped in place, staring at her. “Your (lowly) life was so ridiculous, Yumi. You’ve never played a game before?” She shook her head, so he waved for her to walk up to one of the stalls with a line. That way the carnie would be focused on the customers, ... |
Painter walking backward directly in front of her—occasionally passing right through people. If they thought a lone painter talking to herself was odd…well, they thought painters were odd anyway. So who cared? “Where do we start?” she asked. “With the food,” he said, dancing to her right and pointing to a stall with fr... |
balloon popping game.” “That one is random,” she said. “You can’t win it except by accident.” She narrowed her eyes, throwing another ball. It bounced off the boxes. “And that is bad?” he asked. “I must be presented with a challenge of skill and not fortune, Painter.” “Well then, try the coin toss,” he said, as she thr... |
the dragon to a little girl who had been standing nearby gaping at it. “Farewell, Liyun Noodleface,” Yumi said, waving as the little girl hopped off with the giant plush over her head. At Painter’s curious look, Yumi shrugged. “I think I’m a little too new to owning things to have an enormous pink dragon.” He smiled, t... |
me how to have fun.” “I like explaining things,” he said, causing her to look at him again. “Yumi, I’m a painter. Do you remember why I said I loved it?” “To share it,” she whispered. “To see the delight of your creations with your friends…” Painter gestured as they continued upward, high enough that the chaos of the c... |
that everything you eat, even the air you breathe, becomes part of you. The axi that make up the matter you take in come to make up you instead. I, however, find that the moments we take into our souls as memories are far more important than what we eat. We need those moments as surely as the air, and they linger. Pote... |
stood up holding the painting, letting it air-dry. Her eyes large, like pools of ink awaiting a brush. She smiled again, a different smile. Not joyful. Melancholic. “This,” she said to him, “is for you. To remember me when I am gone. What did you call it?” “A memento,” he whispered. “To remember the day.” “Valuable bec... |
more real than the previous one she’d seen. Its darkness had coalesced, hardened, its skin spines, and those eyes—voids of anger. It towered over them, and when it stepped the nails on its feet tore gouges in the pavement. “Run,” Painter said. “Yumi, RUN!” His voice sliced through her terror, and she recovered enough t... |
result of their chase. She did as Painter had said, running down her own alley and ducking around the rear of a building, breathing heavily. There, she stood trembling, spine pressed to the bricks, sweating and taut—every muscle like a rope trying to haul a tree from the sky. She knew she needed to keep moving. She nee... |
was in danger. “Bring your ink!” she said, then tore out of Tojin’s grip and went scrambling back down the alleyway. She didn’t see his bemused expression, nor the roll of Akane’s eyes. Because of course they didn’t recognize the danger. They’d done this hundreds of times. A nightmare, to them, was nothing terrifying. ... |
your soul forcibly consumed—trust me. With numb fingers, she placed the stone. The monster didn’t appear frightened, but it leaned forward, no longer feeding. It stared at the stones with bone-white pits for eyes. Something in it seemed to…remember. A second later a scream made it spin. Tojin had finally ambled out of ... |
him as he walked. The ink wasn’t real, Yumi thought. The brush should have vanished too, shouldn’t it? But no. At that moment, Yumi understood. The brush was an extension of Painter. It belonged to him. As natural as his own heart. Lying there—watching him drive the thing back by force of skill, art, and sheer will—Yum... |
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