Page 47 of Yumi and the Nightmare Painter
“Yeah,” Design said. “Um, that’s some seriously hard work you did. Bet you’re hungry.”
“Ravenous,” Yumi admitted. “Though not so bad today as the last time I came to your world.”
“Should get easier each time,” Design said. “The body will fight you less and waste less energy trying to snap back to looking like him. Still, I should feed you. It’s, like, my job. I’memployed!” She popped up from behind the bar and shooed Yumi back to a stool, though they’d barely cleaned up half the mess. Design did the rest quickly and efficiently, while Painter stood morosely nearby.
“I don’twantto be a girl,” he said.
“Oh hush,” Design said, quickly mopping the floor. “I’ve been pretending to be one for years now, so I’m an authority—and it’s really quite nice. Except for the sexism. But it’s hard to blame that on being a woman instead of on, you know,morons.” She paused, then smiled at Painter. “Don’t look so glum. Your body will probably snap back to your shape once she’s no longer attached to it.”
“Probably?” he asked.
“Definitely probably.” She handed him the mop, which slipped through his incorporeal fingers as soon as she let go of it. Which caused her to snicker. “What?” she asked at his offended expression. “Just doing some tests.”
She gathered the bucket and mop and stalked into the kitchen again.Painter rounded the bar, then slumped down next to Yumi. She, in turn, glanced around the room—but no one seemed to be paying much attention to them. Akane was gazing toward Yumi as if to check on her, so Yumi gave her what was hopefully an “I’m good” gesture.
“Why is no one bothered,” Yumi whispered, “by the things Design is saying and doing? Ghosts? Dropping a mop? Talking to the air?”
“This place is mostly full of longtimers,” Painter explained, his voice sullen. “They’re…accustomed to Design. She acts like this even on normal days.”
“I ignore social boundaries,” Design said, bustling out of the kitchen with a bowl of soup for Yumi. “It’s 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 astrangerflavor than she was used to. Spices she’d never tasted mixed in her mouth, making it wake up from a long slumber. The first spoonful was a lot. The second was satisfying. The third…divine.
“Usually,” Painter said, “you use the maipon sticks to eat the noodles.”
Yumi glanced at the sticks, which she’d seen her attendants use to feed her. She’d never held any herself. So she stuck with the spoon.
“I still don’t understand,” Painter said to Design, “why you can see me.”
“It’s technical,” Design said. “It’s mostly because I’m not actually human, but an immortal essence of pure Investiture with an imitation human fleshy-type shell stapled on.”
Yumi paused, her spoon trailing noodles halfway to her mouth. She tried to parse that sentence—which was difficult—but came to the obvious conclusion.
“Are you…a spirit?” she asked.
“Depends,” Design said, “on what definition of the word you’re using. What is a spirit to you, Yumi?”
“They’re the soul of my world,” Yumi explained between bites. “They rise up from the ground at my summons if I—as the intercessor between the divine and the mortal—please them with my stacks of stone, arranged to their liking. In return, they will do as I ask and take shapes of power and utility, serving for a time to bless the lives of my people.”
“Stacks of stone, eh?” Design said.
“Arranged in patterns,” Yumi replied. “For reasons beyond the knowledge of mortals, the spirits love to see order made from chaos. There are other ways, but stacks of stones have proven among the most attractive to the spirits.”
“It’s the mixing of math and art,” Design said. “Plus the human aspect—the concentration, the satisfaction, the emotion. This entire region is littered with Splinters that Virtuosity left behind. Regardless, it seems that, yay, I can answer you. Yes! I’m absolutely a spirit. Basically the same thing.”
Yumi had suspected, but still she found the idea daunting. She reverently put down her spoon, and after a moment of trying to decide what to do, she started one of the prayers.
“Stop that,” Design said, smacking her on the head with a spoon. “I’m not an honorspren. What’s wrong with you?”
“I…” Yumi said (highly), “should show you devotion.”
“I’m not one ofyourspirits,” Design said. “Besides, I’m on vacation. No worshipping the bits of God when they’re on vacation. It’s a rule I just made up.”
Well, that was going to be difficult, but itwasYumi’s duty to do asthe spirits asked, so…she hesitantly picked up her spoon and continued eating. As she did though, she shot a glare at Painter.
