Yumi and the Nightmare Painter(120)

The others settled in, chatting in groups, some sitting with their backs to the wall of warehouse buildings around the city. Painter turned his eyes to the shroud and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

A full hour with all of them gathered there, grumbles increasing. His anxiety rising. What if he’d picked the wrong location? What if the others got bored and left right before the attack happened?

What if…

While Tojin placated one of the leaders among the other groups. Akane walked up, hands clasped behind her back. She looked tired.

“Nikaro,” she said, “is your sister safe? Please tell me she’s staying, for once, in your room.”

“She’s…not going to be painting. I will explain eventually, but you don’t need to worry about her.” I’ll do enough of that for all of us.

Telling the truth was one thing. Explaining what had been happening with him and Yumi…well, that would have to wait. Akane glanced out at the shroud, concern written across her face. Then she looked back at him. “Tell me again what we’re waiting for?”

“They’ll come,” Painter promised her before she could continue. “A hundred nightmares. It’s going to happen.”

“It’s all right if it doesn’t, you know.”

“You all put your reputations on the line for this,” Painter said. He’d noticed the glares from some painters as they realized he was involved. The others had left his name out of the recruitment efforts. Wisely.

She shrugged. “Like Tojin said. We might get embarrassed for a little while. Nothing we can’t live down.”

“Akane,” he said, “I know it sounds strange, but I did speak to a nightmare. I…I can’t explain it all. I promise though, this is really going to happen.”

“And…if it doesn’t, Nikaro?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” he said, his voice strained. “Not again.”

“I’m not saying you would,” she whispered. “But Nikaro, what if…maybe you imagined it. What if you…need help? Because sometimes, things you want to be real feel real?”

“I—”

“Please,” Akane said. “Consider it.”

He forced himself to. For her; for the effort they’d given him. He closed his eyes, and actually wondered. The things he’d experienced seemed so incredible, even outlandish. There was an easy explanation.

He’d wanted so badly to be someone special. He’d viewed himself, all these months, as a lone warrior wandering the night, looking for people to save. Could he have just…made it all up? Formed everything out of the shroud? Or even worse, simply imagined it?

He rebelled against the thought, but a calmer part of him—the part that had survived the shame of his previous lies—stood fast. Willing to examine this. If it was true, if he’d devised all of this, then Akane was right. He needed help. It wasn’t a lie, or even a moral failing, to admit that.

“If it turns out,” he said, opening his eyes, “that nothing comes of this…then yes, Akane. I’ll get help.”

She nodded toward the others. “Why don’t I tell them this was a drill of sorts? Us trying to figure out how quickly we could gather a force to protect the city in an emergency.”

“No,” Painter said, taking her arm. “Don’t lie to them. If you decide you need to dismiss them…tell them the truth. That you were humoring me. In remembrance of our former friendship.”

She hugged him then.

“I’m truly sorry,” he whispered, holding to her. “About everything I’ve done. Said. And the things I haven’t said most of all.”

“We know,” she said, pulling back. “I can’t speak for the others, but I forgive you, Nikaro. I know you didn’t want to hurt us.”

He smiled.

“Uh, guys?” Masaka said, hurrying over. “Have you ever seen it do that before?”

Painter turned.

The shroud was undulating. Agitating, frothing.

“Grab your things!” Painter shouted. “They’re coming!”

People scrambled to their feet, gaping. Stunned.

As the nightmares began to emerge.



* * *




Yumi knew, as she approached Torio City, that she needed to let the tree land.

She couldn’t defeat the machine while dealing with the nightmares who were still down there hunting her. She needed to confront them first. Instinct propelled her, but also good logic. Because she remembered something Design had told her.

Her tree floated down, unraveling as it lowered. As she landed, she stepped free, allowing it to vanish fully. Four ghastly figures stood before her, blocking the way into Torio City. All around was eternal night, barren stone veiled by a pervasive black smoke.

The four nightmares came for her and slammed their claws into her. Seeking to draw out her strength, to sap it, to freeze her.

But she was stronger than they were.

You could consume them.

As they tried to pull her strength away, she simply…refused.

“I am the one who the spirits chose,” she said, feeling their claws pass through her harmlessly. “I am the thing you had to lock up.”

They stumbled back from her, shrinking. As nightmares sometimes do when no longer feared.