Yumi and the Nightmare Painter(41)

Akane glanced toward the dress, then back at Yumi, who blushed. (Perhaps Akane was thinking that wearing a sweater as a skirt was the actual daring maneuver.)

“Look,” Akane said, patting her hand. “I won’t force you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. But you’re in the city now, Yumi. There’s no better time to try out something new—be a little daring, so to speak. It might not seem so to you, but that dress is actually pretty conservative here.”

Yumi refrained from eyeing Akane’s own skirt, which appeared about one yawn-and-stretch away from flipping up and turning into a belt instead. Perhaps…the other one was conservative. And the spirits hadn’t punished her for the lies she’d been forced to tell…so maybe they knew she’d have to do things differently here. To accomplish their designs?

That was her excuse, at least. In truth, looking up at that dress—and realizing she could simply choose to wear it—awakened something in her. This inclination hadn’t been sleeping deeply, hadn’t been hidden far underneath the surface. It had been lurking, even back in her world. Liyun would have called it dangerous.

Liyun wasn’t here.

“Let’s try it,” Yumi whispered, clinging to Akane.

“Great! What’s your size?”

Yumi felt herself blushing. “I…don’t know. I’ve never been shopping before.”

“What?”

“I just always wore what was given to me.”

“Siblings?” she said (lowly). “You’re the youngest then? That’s rough, always wearing hand-me-downs. I know how it feels. So this is your first time?”

Yumi nodded.

“No wonder you look like a moth in a light bulb factory,” Akane said. “How about this: you point out a few other mannequins with a style you like, and I’ll gather together a selection of similar things, then bring them to your changing room to try on. That way you don’t have to pick from hundreds of options, only a dozen or so.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Yumi said (highly). “Thank you, Akane. You are an honor to your family, your lineage, and the spirits themselves.”

“And you,” Akane said, “are an absolute charm bracelet of a person.”

Akane led her to a servant who worked at the place, and there they took some very personal measurements of Yumi. Akane seemed to think this would embarrass her, but standing there and being prodded was the first thing Yumi found familiar about this entire experience. Despite not being particularly fond of doing it in front of Painter.

“Don’t suppose you know your bra size?” Akane asked after that part was done.

“Uh…” Would saying she didn’t know what that was make her seem too odd? She didn’t want to act too strange, lest people realize she was literally an alien. “No?”

The next measurements were even more personal. But Yumi suffered it, and soon found herself deposited in a small hallway with a set 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.

“Oh,” she said. “Why not a bosom band?”

“That…might be a better question for Akane than me.”

“I suppose,” she said, “that you find all of this a frivolous distraction.”

He shrugged, looking out toward where Akane passed by, now leading two different shop servants. “You need clothes, Yumi. And I don’t know anyone better to help you get them than Akane.”

“She’s very pretty,” Yumi said.

“Prettiest in our class at school,” he agreed.

“Tell me what you like about her, other than the fact that she’s pretty.”

He paused, and took an embarrassing—for him—amount of time to reply. “She has great fashion sense.”

“That’s basically another way of saying she’s pretty.”

“Why do you care?” he snapped.

“Well, I’ve already noticed that she’s a tender and helpful person,” Yumi said. “I was simply curious if that is why you’re so infatuated with her.”

“I’m not infatuated,” Painter said, and sounded serious, not defensive. “I just have a lot of time to think. Maybe too much time to think. And dream.” He shook his head as Akane passed back the other way, the two servants laden with clothing, and…was that a third hurrying along after them?

Hadn’t she said she was only going to get a few outfits for Yumi to try on?

“She was nice to me,” Painter finally said. “Even though I was from a small town. When we first met in class three years ago, a few of the others made fun of me. Akane instead asked what made me want to be a painter…”

When he didn’t continue, Yumi asked, “You had a choice?” It sounded stupid when she said it. It seemed obvious in retrospect that he’d chosen to become a painter. Yet few people in Torio actually got to decide what they did. You generally just inherited your family’s trade. Unless you were a yoki-hijo.