Yumi and the Nightmare Painter(42)

“It’s how we do things here,” he said.

“And you became a painter of nightmares?” she said. “Why?”

Before he could answer, Akane came striding back—four servants in tow, all laden with clothing. Yumi was accepting the first armload, listening to Akane’s instructions, before she realized that Painter could have simply answered her. No one could hear him but her, so why fall silent when others were near?

Soon Yumi was closed in her little room, surrounded by too many options. She began by peeling off the layers she’d chosen to wear, finding her skin sweaty underneath. She hadn’t really been paying attention, but it felt nice to be out of that clothing—it had actually been too warm. Perhaps she was adjusting to this semifrozen land.

The first undergarment made sense, but the bra…well, that was formidable. She could see how it was to be worn, but 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 felt kind of constrictive, and it outlined her form instead of flattening it as was normal. She supposed that was how Akane and the others made their figures look so…prominent. Why would they want to be more conspicuous?

The bra seemed a purely vain thing, and she almost took it off to go without. But then she turned, and cocked her head. Then she tried jumping. And…

That felt nice. Not that it was comfortable really, but it certainly prevented discomfort.

“Yumi?” Akane asked from outside. “You okay?”

“This bra,” she said, jumping again, “is incredible.”

“Never had one that fits right, eh?” Akane asked. “You’d be surprised the difference it makes.”

It was her intention to try on the pretty dress last, but…well, her curiosity got the better of her. She pulled it on, then looked at herself in the changing mirror. It was beautiful, like clouds above a deep blue sky—like the wind itself given shape and sent to embrace her.

But there was a magnetism to it beyond its overt beauty. It transformed her into someone else. Someone who could make a choice. It was the first time in her entire life that she’d made a decision just for herself.

Akane had brought her a small bag of toiletries, and inside was a brush. Yumi stroked her hair with this a few times, getting rid of the frazzles, then stood and stared at the mythical being in the mirror, feeling a disconnect, trying to accept that it was her.

“Well?” Akane called. “Come on! Let me see!”

Yumi blushed immediately, putting her hands to her bare shoulders. The previous layers had been too hot, but this was undoubtedly too cold. “I don’t know if I can,” she called out. “My shoulders are naked!”

“Ah!” Akane said. “Well, you’re lucky. Because I thought of that. Look at the first hook on your right for the matching top.”

Yumi looked and saw a short buttoning top. You might call it a dress cardigan, but it was a bit fancier than that—a little more stiff (of a denim blend) and shorter, not even reaching to her navel. It reminded Yumi a little of the top part of the tobok she wore among her people, only with shorter sleeves.

She removed it from its hanger and hesitantly pulled it on. It matched the dress nicely. The fit was close, and she sported a distinctly feminine silhouette. She tried not to be embarrassed about that as she opened the door.

Akane beamed at her. That gave Yumi a surge of confidence, like a flower rising high into the sky. One of the attendants had stayed, and this woman nodded thoughtfully and 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 stepped in and dug through the dresses to find a specific choice. Yumi raised her chin and met Painter’s eyes. He was still staring at her. Well, for once she didn’t care if she looked improper. The spirits had demanded a lot of her these last few days.

It was blasphemous, but she had decided it was time for her to demand something in return. She wanted possessions for the first time in her life. So it was that an hour later, she trotted out of the store wearing the blue dress and clutching a package containing two other outfits of slightly different styles. Hers. Actually hers. Granted, she wouldn’t be able to bring them back to her land, where her life—once this was over—would go back to the way it always was.

For now, she got to live a dream. That almost made all of this chaos worth it. And as she walked home with Akane, she noticed something else. No one was staring at her anymore.

Painter had been right, she realized with amazement. No one here knew what she was. No one here cared. Now that she wasn’t dressed in such ridiculous clothing, now that she fit in, she was just…normal.

It was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her.

“All right,” Akane said, stopping outside the apartment building. “I need to get ready for work. The foreman throws a fit if I go painting in a miniskirt. You have food? Upstairs?”