Page 32 of Yumi and the Nightmare Painter
“Nothinghappenedto me,” she said. “This is who I am. The person Ihavetobe. If I grow lax, then people die, Painter. Do you understand that? Farming among my peopleendswithout the yoki-hijo. If I am not my best self, then people willstarve. Forgive me if it’s a littlestressful, therefore, that I can’t do my duty without the cooperation of a liar who finds all this funny!”
He glanced away, looking ashamed. As he should have been. This was the way she’d been trained—with relentless conditioning toward solemnity. With unyielding strictness. Until the desire for levity and individuality had been drained from her like pus from a boil.
It had worked for her. She’d turned out fine. Rather, she’d turned out to be what she had to be.
It would work for him. She merely had to remain stern. For his good and the good of the spirits as well.
“We wait, then,” he finally said.
“We meditate,” she said, kneeling.
He knelt beside her. “Meditate, eh? So…we just kneel here and think?”
“No thinking,” she said, spreading her hands to the sides and tipping her head toward the sky. “Meditation is the opposite of thinking.”
“Uh…I can force myself to be calm. Will that work?”
She glanced at him, and he seemed genuinely confused. Did…she really have to explain something so simple?
“It is more than calmness,” she clarified. “It is an utter rejection of all emotion, sensation, and individuality. You often start by fixating on something rhythmic, like your breathing or the deliberate stretching and relaxing of a muscle. Some find it helpful to vocalize a tone or a mantra. The goal is to empty your mind of all thought—abandoning even the initial focus that started the meditation.”
“What’s the point of that?”
She cocked her head, baffled. “To center yourself in the cosmere,” she said. “To wash your mind as you wash your body. To expel emotional refuse, as your body does with physical excrement. To be clean, down to your soul, and to renew. You’ve never done it before?”
He shook his head.
Nowonderhe was so…well, him. How backward must his society be to know nothing about a need so fundamental?
She started him out—as you might with a child—with a focus on breathing. She centered herself, let herself simply exist. The familiar sense of drifting enveloped her, followed by the sensation of…nothing.
Complete emptiness. Being. Nothing else. She was as the rocks, the trees in the air. The…
He was there next to her.
She couldfeelhim. Now that she was centered, she sensed himpullingon her. She cracked an eye; his own eyes were closed, but he was smiling, his mouth twitching.
“You’re thinking about something,” she said to him.
“I can’t helpthinking,” he complained. “I don’t want to stop, regardless. I like thinking about things.”
“You will control even those enjoyable thoughts better,” she said, “when you are experienced at meditation.”
“There’s more to life than control.”
“Try it,” she said, centering herself again. “Practice. You’ll see. The best artists can focus far better on their art after training to meditate. Control leads to focus and focus to accomplishment.”
“Depends on what you want to accomplish.”
The two continued to kneel, and nowYumifound it difficult to stop thinking. About him. Not that there was anything specifically appealing about Painter. It was just that she’d never imagined kneeling in a shrine beside someone. It was…a thing that married couples did.
Not an experience for her. To marry would be to defy the spirits and the gift they’d granted. To have a love, to have a family, would be to turn her back on her duty. She was a precious resource, andabsolutededication was required.
Yet strangely, many of her world’s favorite stories involved a yoki-hijo falling in love. Liyun had rightly tried to keep them from her, but Yumi had heard the tales from Samjae—a yoki-hijo she’d been friends with when they were young—who had relayed them with a gleeful air of transgression.
Samjae said transgressive stories were the best. Because forbidden love somehow tasted the sweetest.
“Nice,” Painter said, shaking the shrine as he stood up. Yumi started, thinking he’d somehow sensed her thoughts. But he was referencing Liyun approaching up the path. “This means we’re done, right?”
