spirit-of-the-void

[spirit-of-the-void]

Mononoke Fic: The Saturated Iris

Read on AO3: HERE

-Chapter 11-

Act 2, Part 11:

The Mountain Pass

-Six Months Later-

Clouds of white, crystalline air formed in front of your face on the train platform, the air just outside the terminal cold and frigid enough to keep most sane humans away from travelling. A few lone bodies scattered around in little huddles, most of them families heading home in groups of three or four, accompanied by the usual lone traveler standing off by themselves like you. Usually you wouldn’t be caught dead out in this climate—you didn’t do well in the cold, minus the occasional vacation meant purely for spending time in onsen or resorts. Which is technically what this was, giving reason to why you were standing out in the blistering wind, face scrunched and body layered with a kimono and two coats, scarf and boots included. You were far from the coast now, at least a few days traveling into the central land and damn well missing the temps of the beach, Mai’s estate and the nice, almost spring-like warmth that kept things from getting too chilly. But this was meant to be a good thing, a break to give you some ample time to rest and recuperate, not that you were feeling particularly cheerful about it at that moment. You just had to survive the train ride, then it was onsen, warm bed rolls and good food for a few days.

A sigh left your lips at that almost repeated mantra, regretting putting your hair up as it was leaving your ears rather cold and exposed. As it was, the gloves on your hands were making it difficult to retrieve the bit of parchment folded in one pocket of your jacket, fingers fumbling slightly to open it as train smoke approached from the distance. It was from Mai, you knew that. She had slipped it into your hands before heading off from the estate, along with the beaded bracelet she had made you to wear for good luck. You both had a matching piece—hers with strands of your hair woven in, yours with strands of hers. Even the beads were symbolic, colored in matching patterns to each other's eye color and hair color. So now it felt like a little piece of your friend rattled on your wrist as you opened her letter again, reading it to pass the time and eliminate some of the wisps of loneliness left over from traveling alone. It didn’t used to bother you before, but things had changed in recent memory that you didn’t feel like acknowledging. 

Dearest Y/N,

I hope you have fun on your trip! Mother and Father were very gracious in paying for it, so you should have a delightful time up at the mountain resort, I made sure of that. It’s the least they could do considering all the hard work you put in to help fix the Inn, and for getting hurt that badly. Father is quite contrite, my mother is keeping him on a short leash so it’s not like he has much of a choice. Regardless, Ren also says he wants you to have a good time on the trip! I think he sent a care package to the resort that will be waiting for you, which is so sweet of him. He really wants your approval! It’s cute, but don’t worry too much about us okay? You need time to rest, relax, and have a good time. I know you’ve been really struggling in the past few months, so take this time to breathe, okay? When you come back, we will start planning the wedding and getting things in order! 

We love you!

Mai

Ahhh yes. The fiancé, Ren. You chuckled to yourself at the thought, tucking the letter away once more just as the train started to enter the platform, bringing with it smoke and loud noises. Mai had, in fact, picked her betrothed, right out of left field just as you had expected her to. Despite all the trouble of gathering possible choices for her in the hotel that faithful week, Mai had picked not a damn one of them, not that they would have willingly married her after dealing with the Mononoke in her family’s establishment. No, Mai had been courting with Ren for weeks at that point, the eldest son of an up and coming merchant group that was spreading across the coast. They seemed to specialize in fabrics and textiles, not a bad business to be in considering how high the demand was for it. Regardless of that, Mai was head over heels for the boy, and he worshipped the ground she walked on—which was perfect, in your opinion, so you had no idea why he felt the need to earn your approval when the base requirement was already met. Mai was happy, and the two had presented the proposal to her father with nary a complaint from him. After all the madness, Michael was probably just relieved she had found a well off husband in the first place.

You were glad things had worked out for her, especially after all the terrible happenings within the hotel. Mai deserved a good life, a kind husband, and to live in comfort. A smile lingered on your face at the thought, albeit wistful as you watched people trickle out of the train out onto the awaiting platform. She had done so much to be your rock in the past six months, so it was only appropriate to be happy for her on this occasion, despite how loneliness lingered like a ghost in your gut. Was this how your mother felt when Lady Tomoko and Michael were to be married, when she had drifted to the temple of priestess’ to find a new life? Directionless, uncertain, like a strange gap had formed between her and her lifelong friend. A sigh left your lungs at the thought, head shaking as if to physically remove it as you stepped onto the awaiting train, bag in hand and body begging for warmth after standing in the cold for a half hour at least.

The conductor punched your ticket shortly after finding a seat, the train blessedly warm compared to the outside and the windows frosted due to the temperature difference. You politely took your ticket back, settling your bag in an overhead compartment before making yourself comfortable. Scarf off, gloves off, upper jacket removed before you started sweating. You were somewhat relieved to see that the train was barely occupied for this journey up the mountain, watching the few groups filter on and steer comfortably clear from you sitting on your own. Being social was not on your agenda at that moment, especially considering how your mood flickered back and forth between apprehensive and content, like a pendulum making its way in a smooth, indecisive arc. You were grateful for this trip, but unsure how traveling alone was going to add to your already lingering feelings of depression and unrest. Honestly, you did better when training and keeping yourself occupied instead, the time spent working on your ability usage and endurance at least making you feel accomplished in those efforts. There was a restlessness that came now, in doing something for leisure. Alone.

Himari’s memories lingered even now, accompanied by the usual guilt and regret as you recalled the nightmares of the hotel. And the Medicine Seller, who had vanished shortly after the incident came to a close. Your chest ached at the thought, eyes squeezing shut and the bramble patch growing there digging in even harder than usual. You were unhappy with the entire experience, and would be lying if you said the abrupt departure of the Medicine Seller had not stung terribly in its wake. Mai had been, understandably, pissed—you lost count of the number of times she had angrily ranted, berated, and complained about his rude behavior. But you knew she was mad on your behalf, since clearly it had bothered you in a way nothing had before. At first, you couldn’t figure out why it had been so damaging, your brain stuck in a way that it had not experienced since your mother’s passing. Between the parallels in the incident to her death, the grief of knowing Himari and feeling as if you’d failed her, and waking to the Medicine Seller simply gone, you had been a complete mess.

To be entirely frank, your feelings were hurt. Maybe all that happened within the hotel was simply just another day to him, but it held meaning for you. It happened, it mattered, and after? After came the worst of your struggles, and some stupid, stubborn, idiotic part of you desperately longed for him to have been there for it. In simplest terms, you missed him. Yes, foolishly, but it wasn’t like you could control what your brain wanted, and the sensations that had passed between you and the Medicine Seller whilst dealing with the Mononoke. Mai had been able to tell you were unhappy, of course she could, and had spent a great deal of time trying to get you to open up about your emotions after realizing that whoops, yelling about the Medicine Seller wasn’t helping. She had, to some extent, understood what you were going through—matters like this weren’t exactly unfamiliar territory for her as they were you, and she passed no judgement about what you expressed those first few months. You felt like a child who had made assumptions, getting caught up in something and setting expectations that reasonably would have never been met.

Mai didn’t agree. She had observed how you both acted around each other, and claimed you definitely weren’t imagining things. Not that it mattered.

You tried not to think about it anymore as you stared out the frosted window by your seat, seeing nothing. Idly you traced a little star in the fogged up glass, feeling the chill seep into one finger even as the image started to fog over once more. The train was beginning to move rather quickly, as there were not many passengers boarding at that station in the first place, wincing at the shrill whistle from somewhere ahead and the clang of metal wheels below. The cart lurched ever so slightly before the ride smoothed out, a sigh leaving your lungs as you leaned back, eyes closed and prepared to nod off for the next hour spent weaving through the mountain pass. It was too hard to see out the windows to enjoy any scenery, and you weren’t particularly excited by snow anymore.

”Tickets please…!” Came from cars further back, as the conductor made his way through to the next few train cars. You tried to ignore it as the sound grew quieter and quieter, the doors closing behind him and muffling each shout. 

Thank the gods this car was quiet. Previous parts of the journey had involved crying children, and the occasional preaching Christian man standing and shouting scripture from the back of the train. Out here in the wilderness, things were a bit more peaceful. The train’s energy was mild, calm and underwhelming. The occasional pluck of guitar strings, gentle humming like someone was singing somewhere far in the distance. And, of course, the energy of fire and coal from above, hissing and sending electricity into the air as the train chugged onward. 

You did eventually start to nod off, head resting gently on a makeshift barrier made of your coat against the window so you wouldn’t rattle too much. You woke up somewhere around the next stop before the trip would progress uninterrupted, the train coming to a stop and hissing out steam that made your brain stir back into reality. The conductor wasn’t helping, as his voice was loud and grating in the return to your cart, there to greet the few people that boarded the train. You paid no mind to any of them, eyes flickering back shut the moment shoes started hitting the stairs up into the train car. Any other day, you would have been nosy, but at that rate you were trying to take Mai’s advice to simply rest, mind your own business, and breathe. No more thinking about training, the Medicine Seller, or Himari. Easier said than done, but you were trying to find contentment in listening to hushed voices in the train car, letting them drown out like the humming that came from the mingled energy of its passengers.

Everything seemed quiet and simple for a few moments as newcomers were situated, both hands resting on your lap and head finding a comfortable position against the window and your makeshift pillow. You thought that would be the end of it, thought the train would start chugging again, and you would get some time to snooze before hitting the resort. That would have been simple and easy, wouldn’t it? Not that you were ever affording such luxuries before, not in your many years on this wretched planet. 

You felt it immediately when someone sat beside you on the train, in one open seat left near the aisle to your left. Something had clanked heavily above at first, making you flinch but still not open your eyes, determined to ignore it until a warm body joined that row. Now you knew damn well this cart had been empty save for a couple people, which meant there were several open lanes with perfectly good seats a stranger could have taken up. To purposely sit next to a stranger with that many options was either rude, creepy, or ignorant. And you didn’t particularly like any of those three options. Especially if it was a man, gods above there was no energy left to deal with some unsettling jerk left in your body, not when you were supposed to be resting. The thought alone was enough to make your throat go dry, struggling to keep disgust off your face in the attempt to still look as if you were sleeping.

However, something had caught your attention. Something familiar. 

The train started moving the moment you started registering the newcomer’s energy, almost against your will. Lilting and soft at first, with no physical contact to strengthen the connection. Your senses had sharpened enough to catch it without effort now, ears catching the notes of a flute, woodwinds, the tune so familiar it sent your heart directly into your stomach. You went from feigned calm to heart racing in seconds, nostrils catching the honeyed scent of something sweet, flowery, in your next breath. No. There was no way, no way in all the heavens and Earth that he was on this god damn train. You had to be imagining things, had to be out of your whole mind and now hallucinating those little details. This was clearly the hysteria that had been dogging your feet since the hotel, finally catching up and sending you into some strange, spiritually induced  psychosis that was conjuring up delusions to make up for how uncertain you felt on this trip.

At least that was what you told yourself. Not that you could ignore confirming these suspicions, not when someone had just conveniently sat next to you on the train.

Your eyes slowly opened, seeing the frosted window first as your eyes turned to look at the stranger next to you, expecting nothing. Expecting to see just some random, ignorant person idly staring forward and sitting with not a care in the world. Imagine your surprise when that familiar, brightly colored kimono caught your eyes, widening in shock as they traveled up, taking in the sleeves, the hair, the eye color. The markings under each eye, that dark purple upper lip curved into a pleasant little smile, and the Medicine Seller’s hands resting politely in his lap. You felt your lungs practically leap up into your throat, your body instinctively standing as if a ghost had just manifested next to you on this god forsaken train. Only then did his yellow eyes flicker to the side to stare at you, completely unreadable as he met your startled expression with utter calm, as if he hadn’t just been gone for months, as if it was just another perfectly normal day of the week.

”Fancy meeting you here,” His voice was just as you remembered it. Calm, bemused, a low purr of sound that sent your heart racing like a startled, caged bird. “Little priestess.”

How were you supposed to react? To feel? To think? Your head spun in a strange mixture of shock and anger, relief and confusion as you stared at him like he had spoken in tongues. Passengers were looking at you in concern now, as you were standing and pressed hard against the train wall like a lunatic, staring down at him with eyes that probably came across as absolutely insane. Making a scene, you needed to calm down, needed to reasonably process—

Harder to do that than one would think. Your mouth opened against your will, brain spinning as you managed to sputter out in a stream of consciousness, “Y-you—what are you doing here…?! How are you here…?!“

There was so much you wanted to say, but couldn’t find the words to articulate it. Your cheeks were flushing now, eyes fighting tears as you stared down at him with a mix of indignation and anger. There was no room for the part of you that was relieved, that was so happy to see him that you felt like bursting into a pile of confetti at his feet. Instinctively, you reached into your pocket and gripped the bracelet Mai had given you for support, rolling the grey and brown beads in your palm as if they might somehow massage away the conflict, the confusion and pain. 

The Medicine Seller turned his head back forward at your response, expression unreadable as his lips twitched ever so slightly in something akin to amusement, “I could ask the same of you. Weren’t you just on the coast?”

You wanted to strangle him. As such you couldn’t stop from reaching a hand down and suddenly gripping him by the neck of his kimono, the surprise in those yellow eyes very satisfying as you yanked him up to be at your face level. He was not going to play this nonchalant little game of ignoring your questions, not after all the nonsense you endured. This close, he could see how utterly serious you were, eyes like fire and mouth a firm, unhappy line. To hell with the people watching like it was a theatre show, you had things to say.

”Do you have any idea how long it’s been…?” You hissed, malcontent clear in your tone as those wide yellow eyes did not waver from your own. Nor did he try to pull away, merely letting you do as you wished as your quietly furious tirade continued. “You don’t get to do that, you don’t get to just vanish for six fucking months then come back like nothing happened…!” 

You could not cry. Not in front of him, nor the onlookers. It was the only goal your brain could grip onto, like a lifeline that held you above a sea of chaos. Through the storm, you realized what his presence meant, the implications it held. If he was here on this train, chances were a Mononoke was involved, as he was most certainly tasked with destroying it. The thought alone made you internally groan and curse, realizing your little vacation was about to be utterly destroyed by whatever bullshit he sought out.

To the Medicine Seller’s credit, he didn’t flinch in the face of your aggression, nor did he make any attempts to get out of your shaking grasp. There were wheels turning in that head, you could practically see them working.

”…You are upset,” His words were less of a question, more of an acknowledgment as those calm yellow eyes stayed locked on your own. “I must admit that I was not aware of how much time had passed.” 

People were really staring now. You had to breathe, had to regain control of yourself before your abilities started unintentionally flaring. 

You sucked in several gusts of air, slowly releasing his kimono and sitting back down like a petulant child. What was more frustrating in this scenario was his obvious inability to understand why you were pissed in the first place, and to be entirely honest you were struggling to find the willpower to explain to him exactly what was eating at the bramble patch in your chest.

Your teeth grit hard, head turning away from him as he settled into his seat once again. Silence passed between you both for a few moments as things calmed somewhat, and the onlookers lost interest. It was hard to read him again after all the time passed, and somehow that was making you feel worse, like he had reached into your heart and started ripping out little hidden threads that took literal months to put back. 

“…It’s not about that,” You finally managed to grind out in a low hiss, careful now to keep this exchange private from the nosy people dotting seats in the train car. “You left. I woke up and you were gone, not even bothering to say goodbye.”

And…what? What exactly did you hope to accomplish by telling him that? It wasn’t like you were acquainted past those three days of interaction, and he had never made any indication that he intended to stick around. It was you making assumptions based on what stupid, foolish things you had been feeling in the chaos of that hotel, and the lingering pain that remained upon waking and healing. Just the thought alone was enough to make you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as if it would stave off the stress headache building somewhere around your temple. This was idiotic, and you were only accomplishing embarrassment and shame by speaking these things aloud to someone who most certainly didn’t think as highly about the situation as you had. 

“Forget it,” You cut off whatever the Medicine Seller was opening his mouth to say, ignoring his surprised expression as you leaned your head on the window again. “I want nothing to do with whatever nonsense you’re here for, okay? Leave me be.”

It was petty and petulant, you knew that as soon as the words exited your lips. But there was hurt living in your body now, accompanied with a shame he had planted there the day he left. Foolish or not, you couldn’t put yourself through yet another scenario of this, nor the memories of another dead human being only to be left to deal with them alone for another how many months. Even if your feelings came from a place of nativity, his clear carelessness with them was not something you wanted to be open to again. Childish? Perhaps, but at that rate the wounds were freshly open, and you were terrified. He had an effect on you that was hard to ignore, and the longer you indulged it, the worse off you would be in the end.

He crossed your path again, but you were going to hope and pray whatever he was hunting was not at the end of it.

The Medicine Seller was quiet after your little remarks, sitting back in his seat and staring forward with a frown tilting his lips downward. Damn you for feeling bad about being blunt, maybe a little mean. But gods, the months after waking up in that hotel were monstrous. You had been badly injured, spent weeks recuperating through nightmares about Himari’s life, and her resulting death. It was hard to explain to others what it was like to carry the lingering memories and feelings of another, and even harder to shake them on your own. Mai and Lady Tomoko had done their best, but you had literally shredded yourself body and soul to aid him in killing the Mononoke—the very least he could have given you was a goodbye, some closure, anything.

You tried your best to ignore him, staring out the window near your face and trying to count backwards in an attempt to keep yourself from crying. You loathed shedding tears when angry, although you would be stupid to think that what curled in your gut was simply anger. No, you knew well enough that there was hurt in the mix, loneliness, and longing. It made you even more unhappy with yourself, feeling as if all those months trying to come back from things had been unceremoniously stripped away. Laid bare and open, bringing with it the panic and uncertainty that had plagued you for months. You longed to be off the train, back at the manor curled up in bed again, listening to the wind chimes sway in the ocean breeze. It felt safer there, calmer. But Mai was soon to be wed, and you couldn’t just spend your days training, sleeping, and contributing nothing.

The train car remained quiet for a while. You didn’t know whether or not the Medicine Seller would heed your request, nor what was going on inside his head. Stubbornly, you had no intention of bridging any gaps despite how much a part of you longed to talk to him again.

There was a foolish, frustrating relief that came when he finally spoke, breaking the silence quietly enough that the others on the train would not be able to hear, “I am glad to see you look well again. You seem fully recovered now, stronger.”

You wanted to groan, wanted to sink into the seat and vanish. Why couldn’t it be easier to shake the bitterness, the hurt? It felt so miserable to keep sulking, to keep holding onto that pain like a slighted child. But you struggled, feeling uncertain and agitated as your fingers plucked at threads on your jacket sleeve.

”…I managed on my own,” You replied flatly, tone betraying just the slightest hint of your malcontent as you still refused to meet his gaze. “Not that it matters.” 

That was most certainly a rude response, one that you didn’t particularly like saying. Regret rippled through you an instant later when his silence followed, your head feeling his yellow-eyed gaze lingering on you as if he was trying to decipher your intentions with no real luck. 

You finally turned to look at him, meeting his gaze with some reluctance and trying to read his expression. Those painted on brows were knitted in some confusion, eyes serious and mouth obviously unhappy despite the painted on smirk he always wore. It took a few moments to realize he must have been happy to see you on the train in the first place, if his mannerisms before were of any indication. The Medicine Seller had never betrayed a hint of discomfort or uncertainty in the past, and had not been bothered by the maliciousness of the men in the hotel. But…you being upset had given him clear pause, and there was indication that he had no earthly idea how to backpedal through this situation. 

Gods, you hated how nice it was to see him. Even through the reluctance, the anger, the frustration. He was just as beautiful as ever, like an ethereal creature sitting next to you in the train car, feeling completely unreal in a way you couldn’t describe. Inhuman, you reminded yourself, trying to work through the lingering hurt and communicate as was necessary. Giving him snapped half-answers and obviously snubbing each remark was only going to make things worse.

A sigh left your lips, face feeling red hot with a mixture of embarrassment and uncertainty, despite how you tried to write it off as damage from the cold. Your eyes flickered away from his, staring forward as the train chugged forward with rattles and rumbles below.

”…The fact that you left without bothering to say anything was really, really hurtful,” You explained, voice low and measured as your eyes continued staring at nothing ahead of them. “I know it’s harder for you to understand, but—“

Your words cut off sharply when the train suddenly jolted, sending you and the other passengers flying forward slightly at the change in momentum. The Medicine Seller’s arm shot out to catch you before hitting the chair backing, the screech of train brakes so loud that a baby started crying in the back of the train car, your hands covering your ears to block the sound. All at once things rattled and shook to an abrupt stop, leaving the passengers inside confused and alarmed as they rose from their seats, shouting for the conductor as one was bleeding from the temple from impacting their head in the stop. You could feel your own spinning at the sudden chaos, instinctively looking at the Medicine Seller as if seeking confirmation that this situation was somehow of his doing, or that of the Mononoke. 

He gave none. Merely rising to his feet and reaching into the above compartment for that wooden box, as if knowing something you didn’t. A couple conductors ran past as he did so, the Medicine Seller merely stepping out of the way nonplussed as they practically leapt out of the train car.

What the hell was going on? You could hear whistles being blown outside, shouting voices rising somewhere where the head of the train rested further on the track. A few passengers started opening windows to stick their heads out and get a better look, so you opted to do the same, wincing at the rush of cold air on your hot cheeks as you thrust your upper half outside to get a better look at what had stopped the train.

Snow. An avalanche, to be exact. Your eyes widened at the sight of what had to be tons of snow piled over the track, having slid down the mountain side some time recently if all the powder still in the air was of any indication. So much of it that it clung to the mountain side in one slanted heap, reaching well down into a ravine that continued on the other side of the path. A couple trees stuck out of the mess like pillars, most likely having been torn down with the oncoming snow and ripped into the pile like a filthy, white mound of debris. The train had just barely managed to stop in time to avoid hitting it, the nose of the machine just inches away from where the first slope of the pile began, enough that the heat coming off the boilers melted it ever so slightly. Gods above, it was a nightmare scenario—you could see the snow stretching far down the track, enough so that it covered the next tunnel that was meant to be entered further down the line.

You stared for a few moments in shock before realizing the passengers were starting to get off the train now, voices raised in concern as one of the conductors began blowing a whistle and shouting for people to disembark. The Medicine Seller stood off to the side with you still in the row, his wooden box taking up enough space to make your eye twitch in pure irritation, wishing to death that you had stuck to your guns and declined this trip in the first place. Of course an avalanche would block the railroad, of course you had to get off the train now and into the bloody cold air in the middle of winter. Right about then you were ready to curl up in a hole and accept hibernation to avoid standing out there again, but it didn’t feel like there was much of a choice, not with how the ball was rolling now. Sulkiness replaced the irritation within seconds, a glum frown making its home on your face as all the worst case scenarios started piling on top of one another like building blocks. 

You ignored the Medicine Seller as he stepped, finally, into the aisle, gesturing for you to go ahead of him with a sly little smirk on his lips. Defaulting to his usual form, it would seem. Somehow that was even more irritating, his neutral state hiding whatever thoughts were rattling around his head like a smoke screen. 

“After you,” His voice was silky, ever patient, ever calm. “Priestess.”

You were starting to get cranky at that little nickname, even when it made your stomach do summersaults like an absolutely unhinged moron. It added some extra stomp to your step as you maneuvered out of your seat, hastily snatching the carry on from above and making your way off the train in a cloud of annoyance. 

As expected, it was even colder up the mountain. Your face scrunched on instinct as it was whipped by a gust of almost painfully icy wind, stinging the eyes and leaving your ears bright red as they were exposed due to your pinned up locks. There was visible reluctance in your step as you started down the train steps, taking a hand without thinking at the bottom to steady yourself, expecting the conductor to be standing there to make sure no one took a tumble. To your surprise, a rather comfortably dressed businessman was there instead, your eyes blinking rapidly to clear the tears caused by the cold air and staring at him in confusion. He was pretty unremarkable as far as men went, his hair black and pulled into a short ponytail at the nape of his neck with some kind of beaded chord. By Mai’s standards, he was handsome–sharp jaw, sharp eyes, but a calm smile with nice teeth. Clear complexion as well, not a blemish on his rather neutral skin color, and judging by the look of his clothing he had to be traveling for some sort of business related reason. Not that you knew a lot about that aside from your own travel needs, but he had an air of importance.

You merely offered a small nod of thanks at his aid, stepping to the side and trying to ignore the way his eyes traveled over your form, the way his lips curled into an obvious attempt at a charming smile. Not your business, not your responsibility, but…you couldn’t help but note that you didn’t get much of his energy in that small hand touch. Maybe due to how loud the cold was, or due to how many people flanked the side of the train at that moment.

The Medicine Seller was your shadow, as always. How he was managing to walk in the snow in those geta sandals, you would never know. The thick powder had to be several inches deep, coming well up to your lower ankle and filtering cold through the barrier of boot that awaited it. You shivered at the sensation, rather grumpy as you flung the second jacket back over your shoulders, accompanied by a scarf now as the wind threatened to blow you clear off the mountain side. The Medicine Seller’s eyes flickered to you occasionally as he surveyed the small group, and you wondered if he could tell how unhappy you were with the whole situation, how malcontent. This trip was meant to be an escape, a relaxing vacation, and right about then? It was starting to become torture.

You were trying not to be self-pitying, but it was difficult.

“We apologize for the inconvenience…!” The conductor that had punched your ticket started shouting, his voice an echo through the surrounding mountains as he addressed the small group. “At this time, we cannot pass through the tunnel to continue our journey! Until the path is clear, we must ask you to find lodging in the nearby town for your own safety, as the locomotive sits in a position where another landslide could send it toppling down the mountain!”

Several voices of complaint raised in an angry, unhappy chorus to the conductor, speaking the words you couldn’t find the heart to say. Others were also on their way to the resort you were destined for, and there were promises of phone lines to contact the front desk at the local onsen in the area. There were almost sworn declarations of recompensation for any money spent, but at that point you hardly cared. The situation was messy, and the longer people argued the longer they would be in the cold.

Many started trudging to the gated path into town within seconds of the shouting, lugging their personal items begrudgingly behind them. Others needed to yell needlessly for a few more minutes to feel better, and you weren’t one of them. Your lungs vastly protested the inhalation of cold air as you started walking as well, feeling rather pitiful as the scarf flapped wildly out behind you like an angry tail. The trek to town wasn’t necessarily long, but in this weather? Torture. You didn’t even bother to check if the Medicine Seller was following you, knowing damn well he would be easily strolling through the snow with that box on his back, and those geta sandals on his feet. 

Within minutes you could feel his strides catch up with your own, bringing the sound of his silly little wood flutes and not much else. Careful and measured in his approach, damn near silent in how loud the weather was. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, knowing damn well he brought all the problems in whichever direction he went. Which was, unfortunately, your direction.

“You do not enjoy the cold, do you?” The Medicine Seller questioned once he was walking in step with you,  his brightly-colored kimono waving wildly out behind him like flowing butterfly wings. You could see his gaze flicker sideways to your direction, lashes slightly lowered and purple upper lip tilted into a smirk. “I don’t think I’ve seen you so unsocial.” 

That did make you roll your eyes, the immature aggravation from earlier bubbling up rather expeditiously now that the weather was a factor.

“I’m not used to the cold,” You managed to reply in a muffled voice, the scarf keeping your voice subdued. “And the whole ‘still being mad at you’ thing isn’t really helping.”

The fact that he smirked at that only made you feel more sullen, the snow tugging at your boots like sand and threatening to rip them off at any moment. Walking in waist high water had been preferable to this, even if it had been freezing as well. Something about the constant knee-high lifting of both legs was exhausting, and the merciless wind was making your nose and ears sting like tiny little razors were slashing past. Which, unfortunately, the snow might as well have been exactly that, with how fast it whipped around in the blistering gusts. It made it all too easy to start feeling sorry for yourself, lamenting your woeful fate while dreaming about the resort’s onsen, good food and a warm bed. The lodgings in this tiny town might not exactly hold a candle to such a lovely vacation spot, but gods above you hoped at the very least a hot bath was waiting for you at the end of the trail.

The Medicine Seller seemed entirely unbothered by the weather, staring forward with steady, yellow eyes as his white, red-tipped hair waved wildly about behind him. No flush to his skin, his red and crimson markings completely pristine and untouched. He appeared deep in thought at your little remark about being mad at him, most likely weighing what to say in response, or perhaps trying to deduce why you were mad. Which was foolish, since you had laid it out pretty clearly on the train. Human ways must have been mystifying to him the more you put stock into it, not that it was your problem. If he wanted to interact with normal people carelessly, then you were allowed to be upset about it, especially considering all the aid you provided during the hotel stay. You were allowed to make space, you were allowed to not want that level of hurt again. That was normal, reasonable even, and you clung to that reminder over and over again as silence started stretching into the wilderness, bringing your irritation and exhaustion with it. 

Besides, the town was starting to appear at the end of the trail. Great smoke plumes from fireplaces were rising into the sky, whipped into a frenzy by the wind and snow as they disappeared into nothingness. You could smell wood and coal burning, and the unmistakable warm scent of onsen in the woods. It was enough to quicken your pace in anticipation, body starting to sweat under all those layers and unfortunately adding to your discomfort. All you needed was to get into a warm room and strip off the damp underclothes, then the bliss of a bath could finally find your freezing toes and fingers. It was all that drove you forward, stubbornly trying to get ahead of the Medicine Seller even as he matched your pace with no struggle, no strain.

The town was quaint, pretty in a homey kind of way. Traditional in every sense, the main onsen hotel in the area sending enticing clouds of steam into the frosty air in great gusts, like a hand beckoning you out of the cold into promised warmth. To your disappointment, however, there was already a line forming at the entrance, a rather frazzled looking hotel manager standing in the doorway in his Yukata and a pipe still sizzling in one hand. Already you could hear one of the train employees explaining the situation to him, but that didn’t really ease the already unhappy passengers standing in the cold, especially not when the hotel owner looked a tad bit annoyed at mentions of “compensation complications”. You didn’t care what it cost at that point, simply aching to get out of the cold weather and into safety. Already your face was numb from the freezing wind, eyes burning so much you feared your resulting tears would start freezing to each cheek.

The Medicine Seller, unfortunately, stopped where you did, watching them start letting in the train passengers in small groups as his eyelashes lowered into a bemused sort of look. This gave you pause, now giving the inn a dubious stare as you wondered if it, in fact, housed a mononoke inside. Gods damn him, this is exactly what you had been worried about in the first place. Wherever he went, the bullshit went with him—and you doubted he needed your help with this new, shiny bout of nonsense, and you had no intention of giving it. His smug aura was enough to make you want to turn and leave this particular hotel, maybe going to the other somewhere up the hill. There were signs, so you knew it was there.

“You seem flustered, priestess,” The Medicine Seller observed as you looked between the hotel and the signs at the end of another path, this one leading into the woods. “One would think you’re trying to avoid something, or perhaps someone.”

You glared at him, his particular tone and that cheeky little smile doing nothing but grating on your already raw nerves. 

“Cut the bullshit,” Your voice was like razor blades, sharp and merciless as he merely turned his head away like a cat ignoring its master’s calls. “You know damn well there’s a mononoke here, otherwise you wouldn’t be in this town to begin with. So where is it? The hotel?”

One index finger rose to his lower lip, the dark-colored nail tapping there in light contemplation and bemusement as the Medicine Seller released a low hum and looked up at the sky. You grit your teeth in annoyance, feeling your cheeks flush even further at the realization that he was most certainly teasing you, and now was not the time for him to be playing games like that. Not that you had been the most cordial or kind, but was it really necessary for him to keep poking at the metaphorical bear? You were having a hard enough time trying to tap dance around this nightmare scenario and all its poorly placed land mines, and his smarmy attitude wasn’t needed in the slightest. Most men would hesitate to make an angry woman even more mad, but you doubted the Medicine Seller feared death the same way they did.

“I’m afraid I don’t know where the mononoke is yet,” He finally replied to your question, tone lilting in a way that made you resist an aggravated huff. The swordsman smiled pleasantly despite your obviously sour mood, adding in quite unhelpfully. “Certainly you would have sensed it already, if it was here.”

You were aghast at his somewhat haughty suggestion, resisting the urge to point a finger in his face simply due to how cold the air was. 

As it was, you did take a step closer to him, indignation in your tone as it hissed out, “This isn’t helping…! I thought it was your job to know these things…!” 

Not exactly true, but the way he danced a ring around revealing important information was even more frustrating after his rude departure all those months ago. Infuriating, actually, to the point you feared crying simply from getting too mad. You needed to calm down, taking deep, measured breaths to try and regather patience, struggling to find those crumbs through the mounting problems clinging to your back.

The Medicine Seller chuckled lightly at that, the bastard turning his head back toward you and stepping forward in the same instant. You blinked at his sudden motion, squeaking in surprise when his clawed hand grasped your jaw similarly to how it had in the water the day the mononoke died, pulling you close enough to be encompassed by his breaths. Unlike yours, they did not change color in the cold. Your face flushed for different reasons now, heart sporadically picking up rhythm like it was trying to claw out of your ribcage just to get at him. 

His smile bore those sharp, familiar canines, eyes half lidded as he took in your wide eyes, flushed cheeks and lips, chilled from the cold. 

“Perhaps, perhaps not,” His reply was purposely low and measured, yellow gaze locked on your own as he purred. “I am not the type to miss out on the thrill of hunting my quarry, you must understand that by now, don't you Priestess ?”

You weren’t sure if he was talking about the mononoke anymore, feeling rather like a deer caught in the eyes of a predator. Not necessarily in a bad way, much to your annoyance—damn your knees for getting weak over such a remark, over the way his lips pursed into an almost elated, anticipating smirk. Images flashed through your head of when the mononoke attacked at the hotel, feeling his fingers trace your bruised arm, of how his mouth felt pressing to your own and the sensation of breathing his air. It was enough to make your head spin pitifully, irritatingly. You didn’t know how to handle this feeling, how the Medicine Seller somehow reached right into your chest and started plucking at deep, unfamiliar parts of yourself. A stranger stood there now, staring up at him unable to speak, to move, to breathe as longing curled into a ball within your gut. 

The Medicine Seller slid a thumb over your parted lower lip, eyes turning before his head did to look at the hotel entrance nearby. You came to the startled realization that the group standing outside was now gone, leaving the hotel owner shouting unrecognizable words at you before the haze snapped, letting you understand him.

“Oy!” His voice carried over the wind and snow, loud and grating as he snapped at your duo. “I told you, we’re out of lodging…! Try the place up the hill and stop neckin’ on my property…!”

Fuck. A groan left you against your will, body almost jolting back from the Medicine Seller’s hands as you stared glumly at the mountain path. 

“Oh my, it appears they have no rooms left,” The Medicine Seller remarked in a tone that made you want to grab him by the lapels again, his footfalls following you as the reluctant trek to the next lodging began. “I suppose that does leave us staying in the same place.”

Damn that smug, almost triumphant voice of his.

You could have smacked him, voice coming out somewhat shaky despite your best efforts, “As if that stopped you before…!”

For that, he didn’t have much of a good response. Simply smiling like a cat with a bowl of cream in front of it, happily following you silently through the steadily rising snow towards what you saw to be written on the signs-- Kurai Ryokan .

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66166489/chapters/175611851 Like what you see? Buy me a kofi: https://ko-fi.com/spiritofthevoid Yes, we are in fact BACK bitches

[spirit-of-the-void]

Mononoke Fic: The Saturated Iris

Read on AO3: HERE

-Chapter 10_

Act 1 END: Part 10

Truth

There was no room to react as an oarfish slammed through one of the outer walls beside the office door, crashing through the room like an angry battering ram as water gushed in after like a dam breaking. Mai screamed as her father’s desk shoved you, her, and the Medicine Seller back, a choked gasp releasing from her father as he was bowled into the water with an unceremonious splash. The oarfish’s tail was like a blade thrashing through the room, slicing at the walls, the beams above, the furniture as it bucked and weaved, screaming like a human would through its unhinged jaw. It was a horrific display of both power and suffering, its dead-eyed stare locking on where you and Mai sat in the rising water, unable to look away from its haunting form above. Even after all these years, the changing shape of spirits still left you in terrified awe, especially in creatures like this. So much malice, so much pain, coalesced into this misshapen monster that sought only to hurt, to kill everyone in that room to soothe its aching stomach. You realized then with some horror why its energy kept sounding like a strange, ominous rumbling, vibrating the walls and filling your head with its deep, base hum.

It was hungry. The mononoke, the hotel. All of it.

The Medicine Seller was quick to react now that the thing was in the room. A gasp left you and Mai as he practically hurled you both out of the water by your scruffs, shoved towards the door as water continued flowing higher and faster down the hall. You could hear screams and shouts from somewhere further beyond from the other guests, but they hardly mattered at the moment. You had to leap back against the wall with your friend as another oarfish shot past down the hallway, its scales scraping and tearing at the wallpaper as it went. The hotel shook as if an earthquake threatened to tear it down, the beams bowing and water sloshing high up along the doorframes and halls. It was strong, getting even stronger still as it started the process of manifestation, loud, ominous wails coming from the direction you knew the east wing to be located, doors flying open and décor slipping off the walls as the hotel practically warped with the spiritual energy flooding it. 

The Medicine Seller practically threw Michael out of his office, quick enough to avoid one of the beams above crashing down upon them with the loudest collision you had ever heard. Wood splintered from the shattered desk in the room, flying out in a spray that imbedded into the wallpaper just outside the open door. Michael ducked for cover faster than you thought possible, avoiding any injury as the Medicine Seller jumped up to grab a beam in the hallway ceiling with one hand, swinging up just as the debris came flying out and tore the bottom half of his arm sleeves. A narrow escape, but a graceful one at that, his body spinning in mid air and landing into the water with a pronounced splash and a muffled clack of his geta sandals. 

“ It’s trying to manifest…!” He hissed, yellow eyes burning as they turned to lock with your own. “ It must be in the East wing…!” 

He was right, you could feel it. Several hallways down, several doors deep, where the maw waited just underneath a secondary lounge floor. It sent shivers through the hotel foundation as wood protested against the obvious weight placed on its beams and boards, further beyond where creatures burst through and filled the hallways like overflowing sardine cans. 

Mai was clinging to your right arm, her face a frozen mask of fear and nails digging into your skin as if it were a lifeline, “ Y-Y/N…” 

It’s dangerous, you could practically hear her unspoken plea, despite no sound living her parted lips. The bruising she was pressing against was a grim reminder of the damage still done to your body, of how close you came to truly hurting yourself once already. Still not fully healed, not fully recovered, not ready to face a damn thing. But that didn’t mean you had any choice in the matter, not with the mononoke’s truth being the last piece needed to finally take it down, not when things were so dire. You could see it written on the Medicine Seller’s face as you locked eyes with him, the desperation, the rising urgency, the clear determination to end things once and for all before anyone else died. His sword chattered excitedly in his left hand, still eagerly waiting its final call to herald its unsheathing, eyes spinning wildly and bell jingling loud and pronounced through the hallways. Now was, appropriately, the time to sink or swim—and you had no intention of sinking, not when your only remaining family was in danger.

Even if it was just for Mai and the Medicine Seller, you would happily do what was needed. Your body could take it. 

“We need to go, now,” You said with a firm tone, hands raising to pin your braid more firmly against your head. “Medicine Seller, I’m going to need a clear path if I’m going to dig deep into this thing's head, okay?” 

He nodded at your request, grip tightening on his sword hilt as he shoved through the water to your side. Those yellow eyes were intense in the darkness of the hallway, barely visible as the lanterns hanging on the wall struggled to stay lit in the wind and threatening tide rising below. 

“We move together,” The Medicine Seller firmly replied, reaching out with the sword and using it to tilt up your chin. The little face chattered crazily as it touched your skin, its vibrations making your throat feel strange even as your pulse went absolutely insane to match. “My goal will be to get you out of there alive, and yours is to get the mononoke’s truth.”

You were resisting the urge to give him a somewhat childish salute, if only to break the buzzing sensation that was rattling around in your skull from the way he lifted your chin like that. Woof.

“I’ll be careful,” You promised instead, smiling in a way that felt way more optimistic than you felt and giving the sword hilt, Kon, if you remembered correctly, a cheeky little kiss on its mane of hair. There was an audible sound from it that you could have sworn was it gasping in excitement, the Medicine Seller’s eyes widening at the action as you turned to address Mai. “You should probably get your father to the higher levels of the hotel, along with the other guests before the water rises too much.”

Your friend looked ready to protest, ready to deny that suggestion right then and there. But there was conflict in her grey eyes, her body drenched from head to toe. You could see strands of hair sticking wetly to her cheeks, buns ready to fall loose under the weight of water sopping to them. She was scared, that much was clear, and her need to keep you safe was fighting that fear tooth and nail. You needed her to understand that when the worst came to pass in the east wing, she couldn’t be there in the line of fire, in danger when you were trying to get the necessary information to save them. Her purpose was elsewhere in the hotel, with her parents and the rest of the guests, keeping them away from where things were about to get dicey. Even Michael, still standing on the opposite end of the hallway, looked ready to bolt at a moment’s notice, certainly in no position to take charge after being so thoroughly rattled by the oarfish still slamming around in his office.

“I…I can’t let you go alone…” Mai meekly replied, her voice shaking and barely audible in the howling hallway wind. “Y-you’re already hurt, you…you…”

“I’m fine,” You finished her sentence, stepping forward and giving her a quick squeeze with both arms as some means of reassurance. She returned the gesture hard, hugging you so tight you had to hide a grunt from how it compressed your bruises. Contradictory, but she didn’t need to know. “The Medicine Seller will make sure I get out safe, okay?” 

Mai leaned back with some reluctance, eyes looking utterly tortured at your words as she looked between you and the Medicine Seller, someone you had arguably not known long enough to confirm that or not. The passage of time felt different in this strange, liminal space the mononoke had placed you in, and like it or not he was the only chance anyone had at putting things back to normal. Not that she had much room to argue anyway, not with the water well past your knees now, sloshing back and forth with that strange, oily sheen on top. If it reached the lanterns, things would become too dark to see, and that was a possibility you didn’t dare consider in this narrow, uncomfortable hallway as oarfish swam about the hotel. 

Mai’s lips pressed into a hard, unhappy line, her eyes flickering back to the Medicine Seller as he met her gaze without flinching. 

“...Fine,” She relented, tone deeply uncertain as she turned to where her father cowered in the hallway, commands shockingly firm as she shouted at him. “We need to go, now…!” 

You could tell that there was a lot she was leaving unspoken, in this instance leaving all her expectations on the Medicine Seller to meet. Her little act of defiance, practically dragging Michael by the arm past the swordsman in question and leveling daggers on his measured, calm expression. You could practically feel the silent warnings burning from her grey pupils, lingering in the air as she and her father sloshed to the sliding door that led out of the hallway. Neither said a word, but you could somewhat sense the acknowledgement that passed between the two, his gaze landing back on your own as your friend passed through with some difficulty, leaving the door ajar behind her.

She would make it to the lobby on her own, you knew that. It didn’t stop the flicker of worry from taking root in your chest, but you couldn’t focus on that now. 

“Let’s go,” You instead turned to the Medicine Seller again, wiping some strands of hair from your forehead and grimacing at the rising water. “I know the way, I can feel it.”

The Medicine Seller quickly tucked the sword back into the waist of his kimono, clearly ignoring how it happily chattered and rattled with excitement. You didn’t miss the look he gave with those yellow eyes of his, meeting yours across the mere foot of space separating your bodies in the hallway, an air of anticipation swirling around him so profoundly that it was almost tangible. Your fingers twitched in the water, aching to reach out and touch the threads of his energy that were vibrating along your ear canal, bringing with it the promise of battle that boiled from deep within his body. 

“Lead the way, Priestess.” He said simply, tone a low purr of sound that somehow carried louder than all the noise rattling through the halls of the hotel. 

You certainly weren’t going to ignore a request like that. A solid breath of air left your lungs along with the solidifying of your resolve, the hot burn of your ability starting its slow coil in your stomach. There would be time to worry about everything later, and the possible outcome of these actions when the time came to pass for it—even now,  you had no idea what the Medicine Seller would do with his sword, how he would fight the creature, or how dangerous it would be. But he had set the scales of who would carry what weight. You had yours, he had his, and the intricacies of both those duties were to be determined as you went, dangerous or not. 

Your teeth instinctively ground together as you started shoving through the water, ignoring how it made your leg muscles ache and praying it didn’t move any higher. The hotel rumbled and groaned with its own swaying, another beam falling at the end of the hall where Mai had passed through. The smell of the sea was profoundly strong in your nostrils, eyes burning with its presence as wind whipped its spray through the air like salty mist. You ignored it as you turned through an opposite hallway, the one leading away from the lobby and towards the east wing and its adjoining stairwells. It was definitely new construction, although looking a bit rough now with the sloshing water and damaged walls. Scrapes and gashes tore the wallpaper in uneven patches, water trickling down from the ceiling and electric light fixtures swaying uselessly above, still no power to allow them to glow. It was dark enough to make your stomach swirl with unease, only a couple of hasty emergency lanterns still lit and flickering with fire light. 

The Medicine Seller followed at your back as doors passed by, some shut, some open as furniture floated helplessly by, so much property damage that a hysterical laugh almost bubbled out of your lips. Destroyed rooms, destroyed hotel, after all that money and nonsense causing this situation to begin with. The rising water would have been funny if it wasn’t already lapping at your lower abdomen, inching towards your waist like a hungry beast trying to digest you in its stomach fluids. Walking grew more and more difficult, but you continued to press on, careful to keep your arms and sleeves out of the water so it wouldn’t weigh you down even more. It helped to know the Medicine Seller was behind you, watching for obstacles, one hand occasionally helping guide you forward with small, encouraging presses against your back.

“Where are all the oarfish…?” You whispered as he helped you step over a beam blocking the path, a grunt leaving your lips as you sloshed back down on the other side. “I haven’t seen one since we left the office.”

The Medicine Seller was far more graceful than you getting through, agile as he stepped up on the beam, then the wall with his other foot, then back into the water once more. He frowned, yellow eyes travelling around to take in his surroundings and ponder the situation.

“They may all be gathering at the east wing,” He remarked, wincing as he looked down at his poor sword hilt now starting to touch the water’s surface. “The water will only keep rising if we do not hurry, which will make it harder to slay.”

You didn’t want to imagine what would happen if the water raised to the ceiling. Drowning was not an appealing way to die, especially not in freezing cold sea water in the middle of some pocket dimension made by a hellish spirit monster. Even being waist deep in it was bad enough, your teeth chattering slightly and skin prickling with goosebumps up your arms. Nothing sounded better than a hot cup of tea at that moment, or a hearty bowl of soup while being wrapped in a thick quilt. Wistfully thinking in such dire circumstances, but you tried not to dwell on it, trudging through the inky water and hoping to quickly reach the main area of the east wing, where the maw waited beneath the floor, and the oarfish definitely gathered in another attempt to manifest. 

It wouldn’t be far now. Not with the hotel’s layout, and the number of steps you remembered from the hut in the woods, to where the maw lay somewhat near the cliff’s edge. The only problem would be slightly sloping down to reach it, a set of four stairs and a hallway curve bringing the water well to your waist, damn near close to your chest. A gasp instinctively left you at the cold, eyes practically watering with how it prickled across your body like tiny little knives stabbing, digging, pressing in. The Medicine Seller’s height had to be a blessing at that moment, because between that and his sandals, the water was still just about at his waist when you both entered that final corridor, his expression betraying no hint of discomfort or chill as the water soaked into the layers of his kimono. 

Slow and steady. You could hear them now, the oarfish swimming and whipping about the room beyond. Two double doors waited at the end of this hall, the area widening considerably compared to the previous areas of the hotel. Twin pillars flanked the entry way, stock still and halfway submerged in water as it seeped from the ceiling above, dripping from an electric chandelier and seeping down the recently papered walls. There you could hear the rumbling, moaning, and humming of the mononoke, the sound so loud that you almost wanted to cover your ears in an attempt to give yourself some relief. Its energy was like static in the air, your arm hairs raised, stomach churning with anxiety and spiritual energy almost defensively spiking as it sensed the threat beyond those doors. You stopped there, mere strides away from the easy wing lobby, teeth grit and face paling as you tried to get ahold of all the swirling sensations combating your body at once. Cold, hot, frightened, determined. 

The Medicine Seller was your shadow. A comforting presence, a steady one. Like slow, gentle music against a tidal wave of ripping, tearing noise. One of his hands rested against your back as you froze, warmth that you wanted to sink into like a comfortable bed as it contrasted the chills running along every nerve in your body. 

“We move together,” The swordsman repeated, his tone calm and sure, far more than you could ever match as his yellow eyes stared at that door without wavering. “Your willingness to aid me in this task is a feat that is not lost, know this. I will make sure you get out of there alive.”

Alive, yes, but in one piece? Not even he could make claims to that. But missing a few chunks or not, you were determined to see this through to the end, if only to prove that you could. Dancing in temples or houses to cleanse them of unhappy spirits was like parlor tricks compared to this, simple and easy. Entertaining men was even less fulfilling, and part of you wondered that if this was possible, what else was keeping you from reaching a higher potential? 

You shook off that passing thought, turning your head to stare at the Medicine Seller and attempting to steel your resolve, “Right. Okay. Here’s to hoping we both don’t drown.”

You didn’t know if someone, or something, like the Medicine Seller could even drown in the first place. But he gave no indication to the contrary, mouth curving up slightly into a pleasant little smile that contrasted starkly with the danger of the situation. Unbothered, for now at least—you tried to take that as a good sign, or at least a comforting one. 

It was the little flame of reassurance you protectively held in your chest, hopefully safe from the wind and water as you and the Medicine Seller started for those double doors. Sloshing through waist high, freezing water, feet careful not to step on any debris hidden beneath the oily surface. You tried to ignore the few times it felt like something slithered past your legs, eyes staying locked on the target and head spinning with possible scenarios once within. Your goal was the biggest of the oarfish, the main body of the mononoke. The rest were just manifested offshoots, the one with all the proper information would be the one located at the center of the swarm, with the white, dead eyes and the large maw of teeth. Like the hole it was born from, casting its hungry net around the hotel and hoping to consume all within. 

The doors yielded easier than expected as you slid them open, your hands on one side and the Medicine Seller on the other. Together you pushed through the entrance, water sloshing hard from the source within the room and almost pushing you back a foot or two from the sheer force of its weight. Your eyes widened once the main room became visible, struggling to take in all the details at once with how much spiritual energy was assaulting your senses. Not just your ears, it was coming from all sides, all angles, all avenues. 

The east wing lobby was large, open. The ceiling was higher than the lobby in the main entry, inspired by roman architecture with large marble pillars lining all the way to where the doorway to rooms appeared at the other end. Above you could see windows lining a balcony lounge on the right side, with stairs leading to it, but they had long since been shattered by the oarfish. The room was full to bursting with the creatures, swirling about the air close to the ceiling, and then those actually swimming in the water below, twitching and thrashing. There, you could see it—the maw, open and menacing. It looked like the floorboards around it had warped from its energy, peeled back like curved, spindly claws in a perfect outline all around its edges. Jagged like teeth, the water swirling up from the depths below and bringing with it all manner of things. Debris, trash, little shoes that made your heart feel like it was going to plunge into your stomach, all it swaying back and forth, up and down like waves were pulling and pushing the liquid from below.

They didn’t try to fill it in. They just built the foundation over it, and placed floor boards like nothing was there. Even without the threat of a mononoke, the sheer stupidity of that choice made your teeth gnash hard enough to crack. 

Chaos reigned in the room standing before you, all things in motion, water an uneasy swirl that splashed angrily about the room as the biggest of the oarfish started rising out of the maw, its scales scraping with such an ungodly screech that you did finally cover your ears. It coiled and twisted out of the hole like a snake, moaning in a way that rattled your lungs like a deep bass. You could see its dark red of its dorsal fin, the almost feather-like strands coming from its head as those dead-white eyes flickered about from the hazy flesh of its lids. Its teeth opened to reveal the maw of its throat waiting just beyond, those hollow, pitiful sounds still coming from within in a strange chorus of hunger, pain, and rage that made your head spin with its memories, of feeling her mother grab the back of that yukata and tossing her into the abyss. She was just a tired, hungry, child. Morphed into something horrific by the passage of time, and the actions of humans who should have known better. 

Another rumble shook the hotel as she slithered fully into the room, a low, bass hum crackling through the air and vibrating along each of those marble pillars in a frequency barely caught by human ears. You looked at the Medicine Seller for a brief moment as the oarfish started stirring about the room, angry cries rising and energy dramatically spiking as the water rose another inch. No more time to think, just time to act. 

He met your gaze only briefly before he was in motion, and that was enough to send the room into a frenzy so profound, you didn’t know how he kept up. 

The Medicine Seller was out of the water in seconds, leaping up to a beam above and grasping it with one hand so he could swing a wide arc around the room with his other. Ofuda sailed through the air in perfect synchronization, lining the pillars, the walls that were still above the liquid below, and the balcony. The oarfish started screaming in rage, thrashing about in the water so violently that it sent tidal waves through the lobby, furniture flying against the walls and narrowly past your body. Adrenaline surged, hot and fast through your veins, chest pounding with your heartbeat as your own feet began to move. That silent bell had been rung, and you didn’t have the luxury of sitting and watching him fight, not anymore. The main oarfish was gliding through the chaos like an eel, eyes spinning wildly about as it followed the Medicine Seller’s movements hungrily, like he was a colorful little snack  she was waiting to snap her teeth into.

You allowed some spiritual energy to trickle into your legs, painful and hot. A sharp inhalation of air swirled cold, salty air through your lungs, body leaping in two bounds onto a chair, a table then up to where one of the smaller oarfish was swimming near the host body. It writhed when you gripped it with one hand, desperately trying to swing yourself closer up to the target without eviscerating your hands on the smaller one’s scales. Easier said than done when attached to a somewhat dog-sized eel that was trying to buck you off, but you managed to use some of that dancing strength to your advantage. 

Your body twisted in the air, feet shoving off from a nearby pillar as more ofuda flew past to a nearby wall—the fish you were attached to was making an attempt to slam you back into the floor, each buck of its body sloshing your lower half back into the cold, dark water. A snarl of frustration left your lips at the loss of grip, another of the oarfish slithering past fast enough to slice at your hip with a deep, crimson gush of blood. The pain, however, was paltry compared to that of your ability. A flash of cold against the heat, then barely registered liquid seeping down your hip and leg. There was crashing from the other side of the room as you tried to ignore the damage, fixated on the oarfish at the center of the madness and trying to wrangle your ride closer to it, which was a task more simple in theory than in practice.

Suddenly, an oarfish went flying by from some impact you didn’t get to witness, a hand gripping your own just as the other slipped off of the bucking creature fighting you every step of the way.

A gasp left your lips as you looked up, seeing the Medicine Seller hanging from one beam above, having moved while you were concentrating on the others. Water dripped from his soaked kimono, teeth bared and yellow eyes ablaze with equal parts excitement and cold, hard determination. He effortlessly yanked you out of the water, away from the oarfish you were still trying to maneuver, up and to the side in one fair arc. Water swung wide from your body as you did, eyes locking on his for just a moment as you realized he was throwing you to the oarfish you had been seeking, the necessary target. You felt it the moment his hand released your own, barely catching the sight of him nailing an approaching smaller monster with the heels of his sandal. Your focus had to shift, and it didn’t have much time to do so. 

You twisted in the air far more gracefully than possible, pain searing from the slice in your side, but ignored as you locked eyes with the main host in the center of the room. Already the threads of its energy drifted around that grotesque body, easy to grab now and propel yourself forward before it could run. You expected it to do so, to see you coming and realize your intentions, to make tracks before you could put an end to all it hoped to accomplish. Being under your control had to be painful, to relieve the past and all those traumatic memories on a replay until you got what you wanted. To die again was not a feat you wished on anyone, especially not a child, but its nature was so far gone now that there was nothing left but to take action. Just like with your mother.

But it didn’t run.

You gasped when water started dramatically rising below, shoving up from the gaping maw like a water spout. The oarfish turned its mighty head, eyes locked on you and jaws opening in a scream so loud it rang in the air, making the marble crack and light bulbs shatter on each of the fixtures around the room. Your face scrunched in a flinch, feeling the pain of it sear your ears but unable to stop your momentum as the creature practically thrust the side of its head into your stomach, its scales cold and slimy the moment they touched your hands. Its momentum swung you wide, higher, up towards the ceiling as the great creature straightened its body, eyes closing and threads of its energy practically sucking you within. No longer reaching like before, no longer forcing yourself inside. 

Instead, it was like a mighty hand grabbed your own, pulling your consciousness down into the depths below so unexpectedly that you had no hope of fighting it. And down, down you fell into that darkness, as if the hole at the room’s center was consuming you like the child that had been thrown down all those years ago.

~~~

It was cold. 

You could feel your eyes open into a dark space, wind howling from broken window panes somewhere just beyond from where you could see. No longer were you in the water-soaked hotel clinging to an oarfish, now laying with your face pressed to a filthy tatami mat, head spinning with confusion. You sat up quickly, expecting the burn of pain from your wound but looking down to see your clothes were now dry, unbroken, pristine. There was additional misunderstanding as you realized it was, in fact, your adult body, not that of the child like the previous vision. Your feet were now bare, hair dry and still in its braid, and you were half sitting up in a small, unfamiliar room. 

Looking around only proved your suspicions. It  was night time, cold and dark. A small table sat in the corner off to the side, some dingy little sitting pillows pitifully strewn about the piece of furniture for what looked like lounging or meals. Wind howled through the night, accompanied by the creaking of trees as they bent and swayed under the weight of blustering air, cracking like they threatened to fall at any moment. The walls were moldy, rotted, and there appeared to be no sign of decoration, no paintings on the wall paper and only filthy candle holders covered in wax attached to the occasional wood beam.

You weren’t alone.

Your body froze at the sight of a child sitting crisscross near the only door, playing idly with a plushie of a rabbit that looked handmade from a flour sack. She didn’t seem to notice you there, or at least wasn’t acknowledging it. Her face had dingy little smears of dirt on it, hair a somewhat ratty bun held with a simple hair stick, one that looked whittled by hand. Her yukata wasn’t in the best shape, a dark color you couldn’t identify in the dimly lit room, and her feet were bare despite the obviously cold air blowing in from the barred windows flanking the other side of the room. So small, so thin…you could tell this child had not eaten in a long time, gaunt and sickly looking as her tiny hands plucked at a thread on her toy, teeth gnawing at her lower lip as a nervous gesture. One she must have done often, as there was previous scabbing from her cutting her skin open there. 

You fully sat up as you took her in, motions slow and purposeful as you sat in a similar position to her own. The tatami mat was slightly damp under your hand, slimy and freezing to the touch. You resisted the urge to jerk away from it, to rise so its chilled moisture did not continue to stain your palms with its dirt and grime. But the little girl was looking at you now, those eyes equal parts familiar, strange, and innocent. She looked away when your gaze met hers, almost embarrassed as she amassed all her attention to that little stuffed bunny, fidgeting with it nervously with her little, pale fingers.

Her mouth opened the moment you settled, voice soft and curious in the way you remembered from the dream vision mere hours ago, “Hi.”

You blinked in surprise, hands settling into your lap and unease still coiling in your gut. It was an uncomfortable feeling, to face the reality of knowing what you sought to destroy was just a kid at its core.

“...Hi,” Your reply was slow, cautious as you took a few deep breaths to steady yourself, a reminder of what you came for. “Who are you?”

The child looked up at your question, and you felt your heart sink a little at the sight. One eye was slightly blackened, swollen from a previous blow, presumably from her father. Despite that, she had pretty little lashes, and light brown pupils that met yours with all the childlike innocence she could possibly possess, but enough wisdom to remind you of what had brought you here in the first place.

“I know you,” She softly replied, ignoring your question and pointing one of her plushie's arms in your direction. “You had a scary mommy too, didn’t you?”

Ouch. You flinched at her words, feeling that familiar prickle of grief and guilt return to your chest and start plucking at the memories rooted there. It would make sense that the spirit, and therefore the hotel it haunted, would be able to absorb and hear the words you spoke within its wall. It wasn’t like you hadn’t already been connected to the mononoke either, so there would be some overlap in exchanged memories and thoughts.

You humored its curiosity, nodding slightly and replying in a measured tone, “I…yes. Sort of,” Your vision tilted away briefly, staring at the table in the corner with its tipped over cups, and ring-like stains from past drinks. “She wasn’t all bad, not until the end.”

The child frowned a bit at that, looking a bit nervous and awkward as she settled the rabbit in her lap again. She looked…tired. So tired, for someone so young. 

“My mommy killed me,” She spoke matter-of-factly, like it was nothing, like it wasn’t one of the most heartbreaking things a child could ever endure. “I know why she did it, I’m not mad at her. I was just…hungry.”

Hunger, burning and deep in her stomach. You knew what it felt like when inside her head, that painful ache that clawed at her little stomach like brambles and threatened to rip apart her insides.  In the dream, she barely remembered her last meal—it must have been rice, you were almost sure of that, as she could remember a small red bowl and a smattering of pickled plums, being full for maybe a few hours more than usual. 

You nodded in understanding of her statement, leaning forward so you could crawl closer to her along the cold, wet mats. She did not move away at your approach, eyes lifting again to watch your body settle into a sitting position only a few inches away from her own, so close the folds of your pants touched the fabric of her own. You could see now that freckles were scattered across her cheeks like brown sugar, her fingertips and toes blue from how chilly the room was. Close enough to hear her stomach growl painfully loud, and see her face wince hard at the pain that must have plagued her year after year, only sated by the offering from the previous family that owned the land. 

She was just a child. Too young to understand what had happened, and too young to stop herself from becoming something terrible. The instinct to eat was such a baseline need for humans, one that could not be ignored. And when that hunger returned from the neglected maw hidden under the east wing, her soul had warped beyond comprehension—did she even know what she had become, what she was doing to other people? It was hard to tell in the cold, dark room she sat in now, idly playing with the long ears of her rabbit and ignoring her aching stomach.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, reaching out slowly and taking one of her icy little hands in your own. She looked up in surprise, and you realized her eyes were no longer brown. White glaze covered her pupils now, hazy like the oarfish as she stared at you. “You endured so much, and I know…I know you have to be suffering, aren’t you?”

The little girl nodded slowly, hesitantly at your words. You could see tears pooling at the corners of her eyes, black like tar as they trickled out down her cheeks like ink. 

“It hurts all the time,” She replied softly, rubbing at her stomach with one hand as the rabbit in her lap slumped forward. “No matter how much I eat, the pain doesn’t go away. I can’t stop.”

You doubted the conscious spirit itself was much in control of the situation anymore. Now it was pure, mutated instinct, her will slipping further and further away the more her human shape did. You could feel your own living warmth seeping into her fingers as you squeezed them, her eyes staring down at it with a wistfulness no child should ever have to possess. 

She looked so, so tired.

“I didn’t mean to do bad things,” Her voice was soft, broken, like she was in trouble and waiting to be scolded. “I don’t want to do bad things anymore.”

You squeezed her hand tighter, leaning forward and wiping some of her tears away with your sleeve. Like your mother had for you, when you were young. 

“I know,” Your voice was low, calm, reassuring as you tilted her head back up, so you could stare into those glassy, white eyes with pronounced seriousness. “And I want to set you free. I just…need your name, little one.”

There was a long pause where the wind continued to whip and wail outside, trees bending and swaying like an alluring dance deep in the night air. You were starting to hear a man yell in another part of the little house, the sound muffled and unintelligible as if he were speaking backwards, accompanied by the sound of glass shattering from a thrown object. The child closed her eyes as if in contemplation, flinching at the sound of heavy feet stomping about, a woman softly weeping where both of you could not see. Their arguing seeped through the paper walls with ease, vibrating the floors with the sounds of anger, grief, and suffering as a small child cowered alone in the cold, in the dark. Waiting as usual for them to be done, her hands held in a stranger’s as she felt the first bit of warmth and comfort given in many, many years. Perhaps even before her death as well, when things were darker still, and she had no one there to protect her when her parents became a whirlwind of violence and abuse.

She sniffled softly, fat, inky tears pattering down onto your hands from where her head bowed down above. You could feel the threads of her spiritual energy now, draping around the room like spider silk and covering every inch of the walls, doors, and ceiling. Cold yet bright with a mix of anger, frustration, hunger and sorrow as they wrapped around your hands, your feet, your neck. You did not flinch, did not stiffen at the sensation of them enveloping you, leaning down to rest your face against the child’s hair in a comforting embrace. Feeling the hard life she endured, days of hunger and pain at the hands of parents who were in no condition to ever be good to her.

“Will it hurt?” She whispered to you, voice a sob that tore through your heart like it was tissue paper.

You softly squeezed her little hands in your own, not wanting to lie to her as her parents continued their unintelligible argument in another room. 

“I don’t know entirely,” You admitted, head raising slightly to look down at her with a soft smile. “But I know the Medicine Seller will be able to set you free.” 

You wondered what he was doing now, as you sank into this encounter with the mononoke. Was he still fighting in the conscious world, somehow keeping you alive? There was no way to tell what you would return to, but that was a problem that would need to be tackled in the moment it happened. The child was your only focus now, her head raising once more to stare at you with eyes swimming with tears. But there was hopefulness there now, mingling with despair so old it was fathomless like the sea. 

“Thank you.” The little one wiped her nose a bit with the back of her sleeve, leaning up a bit as the stuffed rabbit tumbled onto the floor between you. 

The threads of her energy were vibrating now, burning where they touched your skin. You could feel them tighten as the shouting got louder, louder still, and you realized with some surprise there was another voice there, underneath the others. Barely audible, barely understandable, but familiar. Distant shouting, echoing through the woods eerily over the howl of wind, and the cracking of struggling trees. Someone was shouting your name, and the threads that tightened over your body started to pull you back. 

A gasp left your lungs as the child cupped a hand over your ear, letting out a soft whisper just for you to hear it, mixed with the chaos of the fighting parents and someone trying to yank you back.

“My name is…Himari. Himari Abe.”

The threads tying you to the mononoke snapped.

All at once you were falling, falling away from that little room in the woods, away from the girl sitting there as more shouts echoed in its wake. A scream caught in your throat as you plummeted into the endless dark, eyes squeezing shut as nothingness enveloped your form like an unwelcome embrace. To have a tether removed too quickly was a pain you remembered well, and as you fell, sensation started to return, one at a time as tears pattered upwards from your eyes, still burning with the visage of that abused child sitting on half rotten tatami mats. It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t want to hurt anyone, didn’t want to become a monster—she was just a wronged child who wanted a hot meal, to be held by her mother and loved in peace. All those years the Inoue family had fed her, she had no malicious intent. Spirits were shaped by their surroundings, warped by changing times and changing energies. She had no control over what she became, and that ripped you apart inside like nothing else.

~~~

Pain returned with that ever agonizing guilt, body plunging back into that cold, dark water with a shock to every nerve, every part of you recoiling like it was a physical blow. You reared back from the screaming form of the oarfish in the pitch black water, realizing with some horror that you had become fully submerged in the time spent speaking to Himari within her thoughts, her memories. Icy from head to toe now, disoriented in the pitch black liquid with scales still freezing under your hands. You were free floating, unable to determine which way was up and which was down, fighting an instinctive gasp for air that would have sent water pouring into both lungs. You sought to find the surface, but quickly found out that the ceiling was where the water ended, no air bubble, no space to surface. Previous horror scenarios became reality as your eyes stared up at the light fixture floating above, furniture pressed up to the ceiling just as eagerly floating in an attempt to find the surface. No air, no time, no way to speak into the eerie quiet of the room.

You fought the bubbling panic for a moment, hands instinctively covering your mouth as your lungs started burning for oxygen. The oarfish stared at you with its dead-white eyes from the darkness, moaning sounds that echoed painfully through the haze of water, coiling up and around you and baring its teeth into the void. You could hear and feel its smaller versions swimming around you in the distance, but they hardly mattered as you brain swam with horror, eyes fixated on the oarfish as worst case scenarios started replicating by the second. You were going to drown, there in the east wing lobby, right above the maw that ate Himari all those years ago. The water stinging your eyes with its salt, chest starting to painfully twitch and burn as it begged you to breathe in to, to move, to do anything. The pain was there after using your ability, heavy and tangible, each limb feeling like lead as you struggled to kick your feet. Blood was leaking from your nose, creating a cloud of red that seeped into the water through the haze of darkness, and the glowing white of the mononoke’s eyes watching you start to die. 

I’m sorry, Himari. 

I don’t know what to do, I can’t—

A hand suddenly gripped your shoulder from behind, there in the dark water of the lobby.

You were spun around to see the Medicine Seller there behind you, a welcome relief in this nightmare of a scenario as he yanked you away from the oarfish, teeth bared and yellow eyes a blaze in the abyss surrounding you both. His white, red-tipped hair was floating about his head almost beautifully, kimono sleeves reminding you of flowing, colorful wings as he drew you against his person. He could see the blood leaking into the water from your side and face, how you struggled for air, eyes filled with panic and horror as you started to kick and thrash from the lack of air in your lungs. Great bursts were releasing from your lips now as it sought to remove the stagnant breaths from your body, sending clusters of bubbles up to the ceiling to gather together and disappear into nothingness. 

You were fighting now not to breathe in water, black splotches starting to appear around the edges of your vision as the lack of oxygen grew stronger and stronger. The Medicine Seller’s eyes widened slightly at the sight, but there was determination there in his eyes as the flickered to the ceiling, where no air pocket remained, and back to where you were fighting for your life in his grasp. 

Honestly, you didn’t know what you expected him to do. Perhaps work some magic, yank you out of the room to somewhere with air and hope that you made it before passing out. There was also the possibility of letting you go unconscious while he fought the mononoke, but you weren’t able to tell him its truth, not with no more oxygen left in your chest and water surrounding you on all sides. It was hard not to panic with that realization, tears in your eyes mingling with the water, fear clear in your irises as you met the Medicine Seller’s gaze. You didn’t want to drown, there as the oarfish circled you both, howling and wailing into the freezing waters and your body sinking below into the maw.

But the Medicine Seller, as always, surprised you.

He didn’t waste any time yanking your thrashing body against his own, one hand firmly gripping you by the chin as you fought to not breathe in water. You were trying not to scream as the pain doubled, eyes squeezing shut on instinct as his head leaned in close to yours, his other clawed hand carefully cupping you by the back of the neck through your floating mane of hair. Then, you felt it—warmth against your lips, soft but demanding as it pressed to your own. You gasped then, the last air bubbles in your lungs releasing as the Medicine Seller squeezed your jaw, forcing your mouth to open as his own molded to yours. Your head spun with equal parts confusion, shock, surprise as your gaze opened again, staring at his face as those half-lidded, yellow irises locked back. Air travelled from his lungs to your own, a sudden relief that could have made you weep as it entered your body and chased some of the ache away. Warm and tangible, somehow pure despite how long he must have been holding his breath. Somehow, you realized, he must not have needed to breathe.

Seconds passed there in the dark waters of the east wing, the Medicine Seller’s lips to your own, his air entering your lungs until you were able to push more of the dark spots away. His firm grip on your face did not leave until you had pressed out more bubbles, then took in one last gulp of air from his warm, unyielding lips. In that moment, closer to him than ever, you could feel a thread of his energy lingering around him and the sword at his hip, burning bright and fierce like a fire in the woods. Or perhaps, more aptly, like an angler fish in the bottom of the sea, trying to lure in prey with its bright, dangling light. 

There. You realized with a rush of clarity. That’s how you could tell him the mononoke’s truth.

He seemed ready to pull away, to find some means of getting you both to an air pocket before you started drowning again. But both your hands shot out to his face in that instant, cupping both cheeks and sliding your thumbs over the red and blue marks on his cheeks. Those pale yellow eyes widened in surprise as you pulled him in deeper, lips still flush with his own, your spiritual energy painfully flaring one last time to grab at the threat coiling through him and giving it a firm yank . You could feel his responding gasp at the unexplained sensation, his nails digging into your shoulders and the sword, Kon, letting out a surprised shriek in the water at his side. There his life force burned in around yours, coiling in shock, but allowing the connection nonetheless, yielding and gentle as you outstretched your ability until finding just where to send the information he needed.

Her name.

Her name was Himari Abe…!

There. You heard it the moment he gathered her name, his yellow eyes blazing with shock and realization as his sword’s teeth clanged shut with a hard crack, the sound vibrating through the water like a warning bell. The final piece of the puzzle, the mononoke’s truth clear and simple now as you leaned back from his face, releasing the connection and slumping back in exhaustion. Using your ability once was bad enough, but that second time was enough to really threaten you with fainting. Your head swam as if filling with water, eyes struggling to remain open and focus on any given thing. Rolling, spinning, tumbling, tumbling. It felt like you were going to fall into a pit again, body limp in the water and legs feeling completely numb. If the Medicine Seller expected you to swim to safety while he fought, he would soon discover that wasn’t entirely possible, and the possibility of drowning was becoming a real issue, especially if you went unconscious in the middle of the water. 

The Medicine Seller was, luckily, not a fool. You wanted to apologize for burdening him at that moment, ears ringing so loudly you struggled to hear as his arms wrapped around your waist once more. You felt the shift in momentum as he snarled something under the water, muffled and barely audible over the roaring, the music, the chaos. Rumbling started to fill the space as the oarfish released a mighty wail into the water, writhing as it reared its head back and started to streak up towards the ceiling as if seeking to escape. It sensed the danger the moment it was present, oblivious to you, oblivious to everything around it as it crackled through the ceiling like a battering ram. There was a single floor above the lobby, some of the fancier suites for big groups of important clients. She wasted no time slithering within, her silver tail disappearing through the hole as the black spots started dancing around the edges of your eyes once more, from exhaustion and a mix of no breathing this time. 

You felt the Medicine Seller yank you upwards, faster and stronger than any human could as things faded out, just for a few seconds. Cold filled you, battling the burn encompassing each limb like a bizarre, painful frostbite.  There was silence in the time that passed, one you were grateful for, before things slipped back into consciousness like a warped record, your mouth opening in a shrill gasp that immediately brought with it great, painful coughs that sprayed water and blood out onto the hardwood floor under you. You heaved for a moment, emptying bile from your stomach after how many days of fighting it, shivering, soaked and confused as to where you were, and how you got there. 

You had faded for a minute at most maybe, judging by how cold you still were, head spinning so hard that your body refused to rise for a long moment of just…laying there. Staring hazily at topped furniture, sound fading in and out like water was lapping at both ears, lungs pushing air frantically in and out as it remembered how very close you came to drowning. Too close. Holding your breath for that long made your airways feel like utter dirt, each breath achingly expanding and releasing as your ability struggled to wane, confused by all the alarms going off from several different organs. Not exactly your best work, nor the safest, but by the gods you were still alive.

You weren’t in the east wing lobby anymore, that much was clear. The Medicine Seller had brought you to the floor above, where the water had not quite reached yet. 

Where had he gone? You could faintly hear the oarfish screaming from above, the sound of wood splintering and cracking with various impacts echoing out through the hotel. The occasional clash of metal made you wonder if he managed to finally, blessedly, unsheathe his sword, and was fighting the beast while you lay there useless. Energy crackled in the atmosphere all around, like lightning that you could feel raising the goosebumps on your skin, your own spiritual power swaying and rolling in your chest in unrest as it sought to find the other’s source. You blearily ignored it, thankful for once that you could just lie down on a half-broken tatami mat, hair still partially draped into the water near your head. It was still rising, only slower now that the oarfish wasn’t in it. It lapped gently at your head, cool and almost comforting now on the hot, feverish skin that flushed across both cheeks. 

More screams echoed from above as you fought another wave of exhaustion, one hand clutching at your chest and the other at your stomach. Maybe it was better that things played out this way, that you wouldn’t have to watch the Medicine Seller destroy the oarfish after meeting Himari and getting to talk to her. Despite the curiosity swirling in your skull about what he was doing, and how he was doing it, at the end of the day all you could hope was that it wouldn’t hurt Himari too badly. You wanted her suffering to end, you wanted her to be at peace. Then maybe all of the effort that went into it would mean more than rescuing a few stuffy, uncaring businessmen, and the people who disrespected her grave unintentionally in the first place. 

You slipped in and out of consciousness for a few more long, agonizing moments as your heart struggled to calm its rhythm. Sound and light flickered in and out, mimicking the swaying water, each bit of rest a short reprieve ripped away when you managed to come to, wondering what was going on, wondering if there was any way you could aid in the battle happening above. Had only seconds and minutes been passing? Or was it hours in reality, with no real way to tell if the Medicine Seller had succeeded or not?

The answer eventually came, but now how you expected it. 

Your eyes snapped open at a peculiar sound from the sky above, like glass shattering into a thousand crystalline pieces that would rain down like confetti. The moment the oarfish, Himari, was destroyed rang out in one final burst of sound, one that you most certainly did not miss. Her energy vanished from the world like a light being snuffed out, the rumbling hum of her hunger fading like a vanished crescendo and the crackling, cold energy warming to a mellow, summer’s day. Tears sprang to your eyes almost on instinct as all that chaos, all that pain withered and disappeared as quickly as it once manifested, the hotel falling into a hushed silence that almost mourned the loss of a small child’s soul. Peace, one you hope echoed to Himari’s soul in whatever place it would finally end up in. You hoped desperately that it was good, kind, and gentle. 

You didn’t know what had happened, or how. But once she was gone, things began to quickly shift.

The hotel warped and waned like a visage in the desert, your eyes struggling to adjust and body feeling unstable on the floor underneath it. You gasped as gravity felt like it was about to flip upside down, clutching at your head almost defensively as things started to move, boards groaning, walls rattling, floor scraping as if it was attempting to crawl from the foundation. The peace that remained for but a moment shattered quickly as reality struggled to right itself, a feat you didn’t know would be possible considering all the damage still remaining. Even so, you could feel the water rapidly retreating, and the sound of the storm began to sound like hollow streaming as things all around twisted and bent, bowing in accommodation to the spiritual weight.

You didn’t hear someone approaching your crumpled form through the madness, but arms were there, yanking you off the floor and leaping into the hole to the lobby in one fell swoop. A gasp left your lips at the rush of air past, eyes managing to flicker open a few times and seeing a long mane of bright red hair flowing out behind the person carrying you. Confusion filled your head, aiding the bought of vertigo in making the room spin—you didn’t recognize this stranger cradling you against his chest, landing gracefully on the hardwood floor below and bracing himself over you protectively as the hotel walls bent and swayed, the curled floor slanting back down over the hole. Furniture clattered back in place like puzzle pieces, water hissing as it vanished from every inch of the space as if it had never been there at all. 

You didn’t get to see much, eyes squeezing shut at the noise and the unfamiliar man bowing down to make sure you were untouched by any of the chaos. The changes, sadly, did not affect your bodily damage and wounds, but part of you was glad that the hotel would at least come out of this in one piece after all that damage. The rest of you was still bewildered, one hand frozen on the bare chest of a stranger protecting you, the other limply tucked against your side as if that would somehow protect you if more danger arrived. 

This man was new, but his scent was familiar. Soft, sweet like flowers and honey. 

His head rested almost comfortingly on your own, his breaths stirring your hair and his body like a warm compress. You could feel his heart beating this close, fast and excited from the rush of battle mere moments prior. His spiritual aura was so profound that it felt like a blanket of warmth and energy laying over you both, enough so that you could almost taste it on your tongue. Sweet, inhuman, strong. He didn’t flinch as wind whipped around the lobby you lied in, his body like a wall of stone that kept anything at everything from causing more damage during the hotel’s metamorphosis. Only once the final board was back in place, the hotel no longer half broken and shattered did he lean back from where he rested atop your form, leaving you to blink up at him in a mixture of confusion and awe.

He was certainly beautiful, this stranger. His hair, which had previously been flowing out bright red and glowing, reverted into a calm, dark color that settled across his back in waves. The whites of his eyes were black, the pupils a bright, eerie white that stared down at you, unflinching, unwavering. Red, patterned marks covered him from head to toe, not quite the same as the Medicine Seller, with a darker, more natural complexion. His kimono was different as well, pure white with ribbons tied to one leg and arm, with half his chest bare and visible to your eyes. For a few moments, all you could do was stare at him in bewilderment, sitting up only partially as he knelt down in front of your battered form, silent and watching you with a familiar yet new kind of scrutiny. 

That blue painted, curved upper lip was definitely something you recognized.

You managed to swallow, wincing as you sat up entirely and looked up at his blank expression with a hesitant one of your own. Your hands shook where they braced you from behind, not from fear, but from the exhaustion that still made its home in every muscle, every limb. 

“M…Medicine Seller…?” Your voice came out confused and clearly exhausted, almost raw from exertion. It came out as a question, one seeking confirmation.

The stranger smiled at that, a subtle curve of his lips and a softening of those strange, eerie eyes. You could see Kon tucked into the red bands around his waist, its eyes still, no longer chattering how it did before as its master leaned forward, one hand slipping under your chin to tilt it upwards. A breath caught in your throat at the motion, eyes widening as he put himself an inch away from your face, his breaths so close you could feel them fanning your lips. Wow, that vertigo really amped up at the worst of times, didn’t it? You felt downright woozy as you stared up at this strange, beautiful man holding your head in his hands, silent yet familiar. His energy was like gentle, chiming flutes that you could finally hear clearly now, all the other noise gone and leaving a silence that stretched far and wide through the hotel, looking as pristine as the day you had stepped inside with Mai. 

His voice came out as an ethereal purr, reverberating and otherworldly, yet a voice you recognized none the less. He lifted himself up just enough to press a kiss to your hair, now dry, the motion reminiscent of how you had kissed the head of his sword earlier. 

“ Well done,” The Medicine Seller murmured, both hands cupping your cheeks and thumbs smoothing ever so carefully across your flushed cheekbones. “ Little priestess.”

Damn you for feeling so happy at his praise, relief and a bizarre mixture of exhaustion, sorrow, and hysteria mixing in your gut like a cauldron of bubbling liquids. Tears slid down your cheeks almost against your will, the unspoken grief from everything that had happened overflowing now that the danger was finally, blessedly, gone. But that meant Himari was gone too, and in the end all you could do was mourn for the life she lost, and all that endured suffering that now lived in your gut like a ghost of what she once felt. An apt recompense, even if it would linger for a long, long time. 

Your eyes shut for the briefest moment as the Medicine Seller’s fingers stroked the tears away from your skin with gentle motions, opening again in surprise when his energy shifted like a flipping hourglass. One minute, his new form had been there looming over you, then your eyes reopened to see the Medicine Seller’s normal visage standing there, those yellow eyes meeting yours with something akin to relief and worry. You were sure there was a proper word for it, but honestly there was no room left in your head to think about anything anymore. Everything was so confusing that you were sure it would feel like a dream once you were well again, however long that would take. In an instant he had gone from an entirely new body to his usual self, and there was just not enough energy in the world left to process just how the hell he had managed such a thing. 

You couldn’t stop your head from falling forward, plopping onto the Medicine Seller’s shoulder as he grunted softly in surprise. Despite that, he made no move to leave, merely settling down with you sitting between his legs, one hand resting on the back of your head and calmly stroking. Good, you felt like that was a nice reward for all the pain your body was enduring.

“Gods above,” You managed to croak out, voice half muffled by his dry kimono and eyes firmly closed in relief. “I just realized…you’re never going to explain your other form to me either. There’s no point in asking, you’ll give me some vague answer no matter what.”

A surprised laugh bubbled out of the Medicine Seller, surprising you thoroughly as it rang out through the room. He had a cute laugh, you couldn’t remember ever hearing it before then. 

His dark nails tap danced softly along the back of your neck, his voice most certainly amused as he replied, “Quite presumptuous of you, priestess. I would be delighted to tell you about my Shingi, perhaps when you’re not quite so battered.”

That sounded like a flimsy excuse to not explain right at that second, but you were in no position to argue when you still felt like a ragdoll leaning against him like that. Besides, he had technically saved your life on many occasions, so being snippy felt a tad bit inappropriate at the given time. You instead grunted in response, ignoring his charming little chuckle as it rumbled near your right ear.  Being held felt nice, which was a blessing considering how not nice things had been the last three days. Gods above, you were just grateful to be warm and dry finally, sitting on the hard wood of the now pristine east end lobby as what appeared to be sunlight started peeking gently through the storm shutters above. You could have wept at the feeling of it, allowing your hands to grip hard onto the front of the Medicine Seller’s kimono as a long, slow breath left each lung in exhaustion. Mai’s parents owed you a vacation, some compensation, literally anything to make up for this.

Sounds of shuffling came from the nearby door leading to the rooms above, drawing you and the Medicine Seller into a sitting position as he frowned and looked at the opening entry way in annoyance. You followed his gaze, seeing a yawning, unfamiliar hotel guest shuffle out, still rubbing sleep out of their eyes.

“O–oh…” There was discomfort as he noticed you and the Medicine Seller kneeling on the floor, a frown crossing the man’s lips as he looked between you both. “Wh…what’s going on…?”

The other guests—you had almost forgotten about the people that had vanished, the ones who weren’t there in the flooded halls. And yet there you were, sitting on the floor, covered in blood and bruises, hair a mess and in the arms of a man you were most certainly not married to. Not that it mattered. 

You exchanged a look with the Medicine Seller, who immediately stood and lifted your injured body up in one fell swoop. The stranger stepped back in confusion, sputtering as your duo made a swift retreat towards the normal wing, thoroughly ignored as you realized that everyone must be back now, which meant things might get a bit chaotic really quickly. You knew not how ti in me had warped while inside the oarfish’s domain, nor if the missing people would be aware that anything happened at all—it appeared, just based on the one man, that they wouldn’t know a damn thing. It would have been funny in another circumstance, if you weren’t so exhausted. But even then, a snort managed to weasel its way out of your mouth, the sound muffled by a single head turn against the Medicine Seller’s shoulder.

“I can walk,” You tried to protest, voice unable to hide your slight hysteria as he quickly made his way to the main lobby, ignoring the shuffling of people in rooms, of quiet yawns and half-murmured morning greetings. No one, luckily, was on route to your destination. “Mai…Mai will worry if she sees you carrying me.”

The Medicine Seller clicked his tongue at that, geta sandals clacking quickly on the hardwood as he replied, “You are one of the most foolish humans I have ever met. Do you not feel the injury on your ankle, or are you, perhaps, stubborn?”

Ankle injury? You peeped over to where your legs dangled uselessly across his other arm, eyes widening at the huge, obviously bruising and cut on your left leg, the fabric practically shredded from what must have been an oarfish going at you on the dismount to the second floor. 

Ah. That must have been what he was talking about.

You leaned back again, making a popping sound with your lips that conveyed a strange mix of resignation and defeat, “To be entirely honest? My legs are a bit numb right now.”

You swear he sighed at that, an exasperated sound that ghosted under your right ear.  You had to admit that asking to walk with numb legs had been a foolish choice, but there had to be points in trying.

He ignored your obviously moronic request, movements quick and precise as you were whisked towards the lobby. Just like that first night, raised, muffled voices met your ears in that final stretch, an odd source of dejavu adding to your already addled head. It felt strange to be walking through the downstairs area this time, the lights above now flickering on and alive with electricity. Whatever fire had been in the emergency lanterns and candles were long gone, almost as if they had not been lit in the first place. You weren’t sure how to process the lack of damage left behind by the mononoke, feeling an odd sense of grief now that things were just as they were, like the struggles that took place had no meaning. As if Himari had not been here at all, just another little soul lost to time with no one ever remembering her save from you and the Medicine Seller. 

It added an extra layer of ache to your already sore chest. You would just have to make room for it right next to your mother’s bramble patch, where hopefully something beautiful would bloom there in the hurt. 

The lobby was chaotic when you entered, only of a different variety this time compared to the night everything went horribly. The Medicine Seller stepped into a crowd of crying, chattering humans, your eyes widening at the sight of confused faces and those sobbing with relief. The businessmen hugged their obviously tired, unaware wives, questions going unanswered as many of them simply let the exhaustion win now that things were said and done. Lady Ana was in the arms of her rather disheveled husband, her hair a mess and lips agape with blubbering sobs as he tried helplessly to comfort her, looking to Michael for answers even as the man sat on a nearby lounge with a cold glass against his temple. He sure looked haggard, his clothes a mess, a couple bruises lining his wrists from only the gods knew what. You paid him little mind as your vision scanned across the space, taking in all the construction workers watching the scene with confused eyes, the recently-awoken family members, the pristine lobby that had once been filled with cold, dark water.

Everyone looked…normal. Minus the battered people involved in the haunting, but the ones who had been missing simply looked like they had gone to bed and woken up the next morning.

“Y/N….!” 

Mai’s familiar wail drew your attention to the main desk, where she and Lady Tomoko were staring at you in the Medicine Seller’s arms with echoed expressions of worry and relief. She sprinted across the room, pushing through the crowd with her mother hot on her heels before finally reaching your duo, flinging her arms around you both and almost toppling over the Medicine Seller. You heard him grunt in surprise, his yellow eyes wide as Mai squeezed you both in her embrace, sobbing loudly and leaning her face against yours like she was trying to make sure you were still real, still solid. Lady Tomoko was already in mom mode, you could tell. Scanning over your injuries, tearing off a piece of her kimono for a bandage and barking orders at confused servants, who went running to do as she asked. She immediately started cleaning your ankle, eyes concerned, fingers gentle as she probed the bruising and ignored the clamoring of voices behind her demanding answers.

“I’m so glad you’re alive…!” Mai hiccupped loudly, leaning back enough to anxiously stroke back your hair, tilting your head back to get a better eyeful of the bruising you had from the neck down. “Gods, look at you…! We need to get you examined, we need—one of you get a doctor, damn it…!” 

You almost laughed at her already barking orders along with her mother, but your head was starting to feel foggy now that the adrenaline was fading. You didn’t want to go unconscious again, but it was hard to keep your head up, the room so loud with renewed energy that there was nowhere to place your focus. 

“I’m okay…” You mumbled, trying to sound reassuring but failing miserably. People were shouting questions in the background, and it was probably hard to hear you over how damn loud they were. 

You could feel the Medicine Seller’s eyes looking down at you, his heartbeat under one ear as things started to become muffled and hazy. Blood was starting to trickle from your nose again, Mai’s shout sounding very far away as careful hands dabbed at it with a handkerchief, no more room for embarrassment in your head now that your body was done. Given up, tired, waving that little white flag and calling for the end of the race. This would be some good incentive in the future to polish up your endurance, to get better at using your strange ability, but at that moment you could scarcely care, not with how much everything hurt. Like running the longest marathon of your life, you could no longer find any more energy to stay awake, slumping despite all the people in the room demanding answers, despite how embarrassing it would be later. The Medicine Seller’s heartbeat was just rhythmic and comforting enough to lull you away, and you were struggling to fight it any longer.

You just barely managed to register Lady Tomoko’s arms slipping under your person, lifting you away from the Medicine Seller as they exchanged who held you. There was some protest, at least you tried, weakly mumbling his name and trying to reach back for the familiar feeling of his kimono, seeking that warmth even as you started sinking into the dark once again. Nothing met your fingertips despite that attempt, and all at once you were back in the arms of your mother. Lady Tomoko was just too close to the woman who had held you as a child, rocked you, comforted you when crying. To be back in her arms was a transformative experience, especially in the haze of vertigo spinning your cranium like a boat at sea. That scent, that warmth, a gently cooed voice as you were rushed to a room to be laid in bed, people rushing to make sure you were alright. You felt smaller than you had in a very long time, mind awash in confusion and exhaustion as everything merged into one big blur, one that you would have to start picking apart once consciousness returned again. And when that happened, you would hopefully share a meal with the Medicine Seller under better circumstances, and figure out what the hell he meant by calling his other form Shingi earlier.

Little did you know, when your eyes would open once more, the Medicine Seller would be gone from the hotel. That last visage of his yellow eyes meeting yours burning in your mind, head swimming with a thousand things that had nowhere to go other than out, a time of grief and absence felt in the time you spend healing from all the damage caused by the Mononoke. And even further still, the burn of ache that came from the Medicine Seller vanishing, the space he left behind in the wake of those three, awful days by the sea.

No goodbye, no note, and no promise to see you again. 

Read on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66166489/chapters/174669671 Like what you see? Buy me a kofi: https://ko-fi.com/spiritofthevoid Enjoy the extra chapter, Im sick as a dog with food poisoning and i need joy in my life. Act 2 starts monday, lads

[spirit-of-the-void]

Mononoke Fic: The Saturated Iris

Read on AO3: HERE

-Chapter 9-

Act 1: Part 9

The Pit

In the end, Michael never came to Mai’s room. 

You suspected after hours of rest and no clear sign of him coming that the only solution was to seek the man out, and perhaps drag him kicking and screaming into a conversation so some of this nonsense could be sorted. There were new elements to it now due to your romp inside the mind of a mononoke, and it would need discussing more than ever, preferably with Michael included to shed some light on the topics at hand. You were beginning to feel frustrated by his obvious avoidance of a situation he should be fully invested in fixing, especially considering how many of his investors were now trapped in the hotel. Not to mention the obviously withheld information that kept being mentioned, both by Mai and Daichi before he was unfortunately killed. Part of you wondered where his body was taken for the time being, but on the long list of nonsense to deal with, that would unfortunately have to remain at the bottom for the sake of all other humans involved. Danger still lived in the hotel walls, and if you weren’t careful another life would be taken sooner rather than later. 

This thought had to be held in focus, especially as you and Mai prepared to go look for her father in the hotel. The Medicine Seller was oddly patient in letting your duo put on new shoes, discuss strategy, and put down rules for how far you were allowed to take your ability. Gods above, you felt like a sulky child being scolded after misbehaving, although it was obviously coming from a place of worry from your friend. You reluctantly took the lecture without complaining, mumbled agreements about not pushing your body too hard, and tried not to think about the circumstance surrounding the Medicine Seller telling you the damn same thing. Only Mai wasn’t a pretty, mysterious swordsman with strange tattoos, and this particular version of events didn’t leave you sweating and questioning your own sanity.

 That was something that would require examination at a later date, preferably when everyone’s lives weren’t at risk. That compromise seemed logical, but it was feeling rather difficult to heed when the Medicine Seller’s eyes kept following you around the room, and his smug little smirk was back in place right where it usually was. He kept delicately tracing the ofuda -covered sword at his hip, and you were having some less than pure thoughts about it. 

How fun that now of all times, your brain decided that it needed to be a fucking idiot. 

You decided to pretend that such a thing wasn’t the case, opting to pull your hair back into a loose braid and telling yourself that this day wouldn’t end with you riding on the back of an oarfish again. Mai was more than happy to lead the charge out of her room, you following close behind with the Medicine Seller at the caboose. As per usual, he was your quiet shadow, observing and waiting for the moment he should step in and handle the mononoke, taking in information with each passing second to try and find the creature’s truth and reason—its form was Ikuchi , if you remembered correctly. A familiar term, one you hear often when discussing monsters and spirits of the ocean. It made sense, but you weren’t sure what the relevance held when it came to defeating the spirit itself. 

“Father is probably in his office,” Mai was saying as she quickly led you down the back stairs to a lower floor of the Inn, lantern in hand and a frown on her face. “He likes to go there when Mother is mad at him, and something tells me she’s pretty mad at him right about now.”

The Medicine Seller ran a hand along the beautiful, ornate wallpaper lining the walls further within, his expression slightly bemused in a way you were growing accustomed to. Even here, his little scales balanced on railings, the flood, on wall sconces, silent observers keeping track of the mononoke’s whereabouts. 

“Why is that?” He inquired to Mai, yellow eyes flickering to your direction despite addressing her statement. You tried to appear as nonchalant as possible under his scrutiny, a blank slate. Easier said than done. 

Mai released a long suffering sigh at the question, most likely remembering that the Medicine Seller was not privy to all the drama that often plagued her family. Michael was a determined man, on surface level a very good husband. But his inability to respect tradition and embrace the customs of cultures aside from his own often came across snooty and disrespectful, a long-running conflict between himself and Lady Tomoko. She had her own superstitions, own beliefs, and it would be a cold day in hell before she succumbed to traditional Christian beliefs instead of what had been passed down through her family for generations. 

You could recall several instances of her and your mother complaining about it while drinking in the manor garden, and how vehemently Lady Tomoko’s friend would tell her to keep holding onto those long standing traditions. Michael could, and would, adjust if needed, if he was so keen. Sadly, most men were stubborn to a fault, and that was an aspect of the European man that had not changed even since your mother’s death.

“Mother was aware of the stories Daichi was telling,” Mai explained with some reluctance, taking out a ring of keys from her pocket as you entered an area of the hotel with wooden doors, not paper. “She wanted a cleansing done on the place, said something about Father and the construction crew building the east wing in an area they shouldn’t have.”

Now that was something interesting. You and the Medicine Seller exchanged another glance, your feet carrying you closer up to Mai’s side as something clicked in your brain, something from the rattling memories still taking up space and refusing to leave. It was that tingling sensation you got when something was of relevance, important, the music clinging on like a vice and practically turning your head in a direction.

A great maw, a tear in the Earth.

“This area,” You spoke purposefully, tone low and measured, “It didn’t happen to have a weird, open hole, did it?”

Mai stopped in place, turning to stare at you with wide, surprised eyes. She of all people should know better than to question just how you got such information, but the shock was there none the less. It had caught the Medicine Seller’s attention as well, his gaze flickering between you and your friend as he pursed his lips, looking rather intrigued by this new revelation. You could remember it from your dream, clear and precise as if you had been there the day of the incident. Even thinking about it sent chills up your spine, the neck of your clothes feeling too tight as if that woman’s hand had grabbed it again, dangling your small body over the edge of the hole. 

“I…yeah,” Mai replied, quickly shaking off the surprise as if she suddenly recalled your abilities, fiddling with one of the keys in her hand and looking troubled. “Though I never saw it in person. Not many of us go behind the building, and it was never mentioned until construction started for the west wing. I think it was behind a fence for a while.”

As she spoke, you could recall its location on the property. The east wing, near the cliff edge. Originally there had been a winding bamboo fence there to keep children from wandering too close to the cliff, and a stone garden in front with running water that would gently trickle down the mountain. There was a building there now, new rooms and fresh additions that ended right where the fence met the cliff. You remembered in the dream that just beyond the hole was the tree line, then the ocean from that.

“A maw in the Earth,” You recalled aloud, voice low and ominous as you stared down at the bruises on one hand, feeling shaken. “I saw it while I was sleeping, in a dream…it was long, large, and jagged…if you listened carefully, the sound of crashing waves echoed up from below.”

Mai’s eyes widened a bit, mouth falling open as she replied softly, “Yeah…Mother said it reminded her of putting a shell to her ear, insisted to Father that it was sacred ground and needed to be ‘maintained’ as the previous owner had instructed.”

And yet now it was covered by a brand new building, neglected and forgotten. Had construction workers attempted to fill it in, or had the foundation and boards simply been placed over that gaping maw, people trudging over it happily unaware of what lay underneath? You shuddered at the thought, feeling sick to your stomach as you recalled the little girl staring down into the abyss, her fear, her confusion. Every time you tried to dredge the memory back to the forefront of your mind, it brought an intense vertigo that threatened to bring you to your knees, one hand pressing to your lips and the other bracing on the wall for support. Rumbled warnings of dark music still danced on the edge of your consciousness, adding to the discomfort and doubling it just for fun.

“Are you alright…?” Mai asked worriedly, putting a hand on your shoulder and rubbing as if that would somehow help. “Maybe you should go back to the room and rest some more…?”

Like hell you would do such a thing. Things were growing more dire with every passing second, there was no time for you to rest and get to full strength.

The Medicine Seller tapped his fingers lightly on one arm, looking lost in thought as he took in everything you had said. Puzzle pieces strewn about, none entirely locked together yet as your little trio tried to solve the mystery.

“In this dream, was there anything else of note that could contribute to the mononoke’s malice?” He inquired.

He knew the right questions to ask. A shudder traveled up your body remembering the hole, the fall, the scream that tore out of lips that were not your own. How could a mother do something like that to such a young child, to their own flesh and blood? It boiled within you, knowing that such a heinous act had been committed on someone so small, so innocent. The circumstances around it were hazy and unknown to be sure, but nothing could justify throwing a kid into a pit and letting them fall to their death. It was unsettling to think of her body still down below, either lost to the waves and tossed about the ocean or lying on one of many craggy platforms before it reached the bottom. It made you think of the vision under the water in the lobby, tiny, dirty legs standing there and arms holding a little stuffed toy like a lifeline. If anything had the right to warp into a mononoke, it would be that poor girl tossed into the darkness by her mother.

“I was seeing through the eyes of a child,” You managed to respond to him after a couple seconds of nauseated remembrance, rubbing at the back of your neck where sweat was uncomfortably beading. “I watched her mother lift her by the neck and…and throw her into the pit. It’s the same girl I saw under the water in the lobby as well, I’m sure of it.”

Mai flinched in your peripheral vision, looking horrified by this revelation and taking a step back. The Medicine Seller, however, appeared intrigued, eyes flickering up to your face as he raised one hand to his mouth, thinking harder than ever before as more information started weaving this convoluted picture together. At his side, the sword rattled excitedly, as if coaxing him on to keep pursuing this target. Was that a good sign, or was the strange little object spurned on by anything that could even hint towards the necessary information?

“Interesting,” The Medicine Seller murmured, eyelids lowering as he pressed the side of his index finger to his purple upper lip. “Suffice to say we may have found our culprit. But why target these people within the hotel who have no connection to her death? And how would one go about discovering this child’s name if there are no records of her or her family?”

It was strange to think that despite seeing through the eyes of this child, you could not recall her name. Never spoken from her mother’s lips, never mentioned when she was thinking about her family life. If you had to guess, that had to be the truth of the mononoke –her form, the Ikuchi , her real name, its truth. After that was the reason that the Medicine Seller had mentioned, but what that exactly was still didn’t feel clear.

Mai looked extremely troubled by all this, one hand to her mouth and tears in her eyes as she leaned against the wood of a nearby wall, “Wait…so you’re telling me the parents in that little shack, before the Inoue family—they murdered a little girl on the property? Of our hotel?”

Yeah, that had to be upsetting information. Humans could be cruel at best, downright monstrous at worst. 

You placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, scooting closer and letting out a soft murmur of, “I’m so sorry, Mai. When you brought me here to do a cleansing, I had no idea it would be this bad.”

The girl, the maw in the earth, the new East Wing. They all had to be connected to the haunting within the hotel, and the motivations of the spirit in question. How all those elements contributed to the eleven,  technically twelve, people being tormented in the hotel remained to be seen. The benefactors, hotel owners, and Mai made sense—all of them had contributed to the west wing being built, or were directly connected to the family who owned the estate now. But the covering of the hole was only a portion of the issue, especially considering how long ago the child must have passed away in the first place. Why was the maw so relevant to all of this? By this point, the girl could have moved on, left the hole, the memories within it behind. There had to be a grudge of some kind still keeping her here, if not the energy of the hole itself. 

You recalled stories from the priestesses that trained you talking about how some tunnels in the Earth could simulate the feeling of being reborn, and the energies of spirits could end up looping through these spaces as an attempt to move on. Over and over, through the caves and out whatever opening the natural air of the Earth took them. This could be one such sacred area, but it didn’t explain why you had been sucked into this situation as well. The Medicine Seller could be explained as the outlier by way of his own meddling, so you tried not to count that. But you truly did not intend to get wrapped up in this, and the cleansing had not even been attempted yet. The mononoke had been clearly warped by some sort of grudge, but not the one that had placed her in that crevice—if it had, then someone would have encountered the haunting by now, and the mononoke would have long since been manifested in this world. 

So, something recent had to have angered the spirit. But what? The east wing?

You shook your head, trying to get everything screwed back on properly through the haze of someone else’s memories, “We’re still missing a piece. You mentioned that the previous land owner did something to ‘maintain’ the sacred part of the property—maybe if we figure out that process, we can discover what angered the mononoke to begin with.”

Mai sniffed softly at your words, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes with one yukata sleeve and trying to gather herself a bit more. She was kind hearted to her core, and you knew things like this would linger with her for a long, long time if not careful, especially considering it was done on her family’s land.

“Father’s study is at the end of the hall,” She mumbled, lowering her arm and anxiously fiddling with the lantern in her free hand. “He won’t be happy when you try to talk to him about this, you know that. He thinks he can hang up a few crosses, pray, and fix it.”

The Medicine Seller’s lips quirked up at that, eyelids lowering as if her remark was a challenge he was eager to meet.

“The information he holds is the last piece to us finding the mononoke’s reason,” He hummed, yellow gaze shifting to where you stood firm at Mai’s left, still trying to comfort her. You froze in place under his scrutiny, spine straightening when the man continued on. “As for its truth…I must again rely on you, little priestess, to get me that information.”

Mai bristled at that like an angry cat, as if she could feel it the moment your resolve solidified into pure, raw determination. She knew damn well you wouldn’t refuse a request like that, and her responding anger was certainly something to be feared. You could feel it the moment it filled her like an overflowing glass, sending ripples of angry, screeching viola notes up through your fingers to your already unhappy eardrums. One hand wretched away instantly in discomfort, rising to cover that ear on complete instinct and rubbing the abused area as if it would somehow alleviate the inner suffering. 

“Are you kidding me?” She snapped, pointing a finger in his face and stepping forward in warning. The Medicine Seller, to his credit, did not step back, merely looking away from Mai and maintaining his bemused little smile while she yelled. “ Y/N could have died earlier from that little stunt you encouraged her to take…! She’s still not one hundred percent yet! Even thinking of trying again would be completely—”

Your heavy sigh cut off her tirade, both turning to look at you as both arms folded over your chest, “Mai, stop yelling at him. This isn’t exactly a situation where we have any other choice.”

There was no telling what would happen if the spirit kept getting stronger, kept killing hotel guests, kept consuming. If there was one thing you learned from training as a priestess, it was that the dead do not belong in the human realm, especially not those who harbored deep, angry grudges that would warp them from spirits to monsters. The two realms would, obviously, have spills and overlap at times, nothing in this universe was perfect. But when the ghosts of human beings started becoming warped, distorted, dangerous to the living? It was a problem that required fast solutions. In most cases, purification or exorcism did have its uses, but a mononoke was clearly the next step above that, stronger than even charms or prayer. Letting it linger wasn’t safe, and judging by the concerned look the Medicine Seller wore, he knew that too.

“If the mononoke is not destroyed,” He spoke low and measured at Mai’s outburst, a stark and serious contrast to the usual aura that surrounded him. Even Mai froze at this shift in tone, paling visibly as he continued. “It will manifest fully in this world, and then even I will not be able to kill it.”

His words hung ominous and dark in the dimly illuminated hallway, your heartbeat the only sound aside from the pounding rain somewhere beyond the walls. What was unspoken only pressed down heavier, both you and Mai knowing there was no real way to get that child’s name—nothing in record books, unknown and lost to time and several years having passed by. You were the only solution to that problem, and the longer it took to get that much needed information, the danger would continue to grow and flourish, eventually devouring the hotel and everyone within. Including her, you, and her parents. The stakes had never been higher, and despite Mai’s resentment at having to admit defeat, you were the most qualified person for the job, having the ability to reach into a spirit and tug at its memories like piano wire until just the right note is hit. 

“I’ll take care of it,” You spoke plain and simple, ignoring Mai’s dismayed look out of the corner of your vision. She said nothing, so your declaration continued steadfast. “The next time it manifests, I will get its truth for you to the best of my ability. Just promise to me that in the event that something happens to me, you’ll get Mai out of danger.”

Now that got Mai’s mouth to pop open, indignant sputtering filling the air as the Medicine Seller narrowed his eyes at your words.

“This will be a team effort,” He responded somberly to the implications left unsaid, hand tightening on his sword hilt and eyes meeting yours, unwavering in the dark. “Let us all make an effort to come out of this unscathed, shall we?”

Ah, that little look in your direction clearly said no to any self-sacrificing maneuvers. Those words he uttered earlier, while his lips were at your ear were clearly meant, not just meaningless honey coming from the lips of something equally as sweet. Your eyes widened a bit in surprise, you and Mai exchanging a brief glance as the Medicine Seller pushed past you both in the hallway, leaving his scent to linger in the air that remained. It was so strange, you were having a hard time understanding how he viewed human life—sometimes the Medicine Seller felt so disconnected from all that you observed and witnessed, like there was a wall between himself and you. The petty struggles of humanity seemed to pale when faced with whatever world he surrounded himself in, slaying these monstrous creatures and then…what? What did he do aside from that? Who was the Medicine Seller when he wasn’t traveling around, destroying things that should not be in the human realm? And even beyond that—was it done to protect humans, or done simply as a job that needed doing?

You didn’t dare ask in the darkness of that hallway, even as the curiosity felt as if it would swallow you whole. Instead, you tamped down all those burning questions, following as Mai trailed behind him, her father’s office key in hand and worry in her grey eyes. There was no time left to keep contemplating and discussing things, actions had to be taken and solutions found. Right at that moment, Michael was the only lead to be had into what could have angered this Mononoke, and you were eager to see how the Medicine Seller would fish that information out of him. Mai’s father most certainly wouldn’t talk to you, he didn’t have an ounce of security or respect for the daughter of his biggest hater. As for Mai herself, he would withhold any truth in the known world if it meant keeping the power he held over her, maintaining that perfect little bird cage and throwing away the keep that locked it. 

The Medicine Seller was polite enough to stand by while Mai unlocked the door, the mechanism so loud in the quiet of the hallway. The door creaking open certainly didn’t help as she pushed it open, peeking inside with a troubled look on her face. 

You could already see Michael sitting within, hands clasped at his desk and eyes squeezed shut as he most likely prayed, silent and somber. He was a mess, to be entirely honest—hair disheveled, stubble on his face unshaven, dark circles under his eyes. No fancy suit adorned him now, just a somewhat wrinkled white button up and slacks, body looking just as haggard as his face. The sound of the door opening jolted him out of whatever was privately happening in that head of his, eyes shooting open and chair clattering back when he violently stood, perhaps expecting something more vicious to be standing in the doorway. Instead, Mai remained poised and frozen in place, startled by his reaction and still holding that lantern in her free hand. You doubted her father had ever been this frazzled before, this obviously close to breaking. It had to be jarring, and a part of you held sympathy for her having to deal with all this. Another part was planted by your mother, and that little seedling reveled in seeing such a peacock of a man reduced to such a pathetic state. 

“Father,” Mai spoke softly, uncertain as she pushed open the door the rest of the way and stepped inside, “We need to talk to you about what’s going on.”

Michael blanched visibly at that, eyes immediately betraying his annoyance and nervousness at the topic at hand. A heavy sigh left him, flopping back into the chair and running fingers through his hair until it stood up in thick, uneven tufts. He must have been doing that a lot recently, judging by the state it was in upon entering the room.

“You know better than to enter my office without knocking, Mai,” The man grumbled, but it didn’t hold much weight considering the circumstances.  He fiddled anxiously with the cuffs on his shirt, avoiding the three gazes staring him down as he added. “I will not have this conversation with others in the room, tell them to leave.”

Ah. He definitely still didn’t like you. Somehow that made you equal parts happy and pissed off, mouth a pressed line of the resulting agitation and arms folding across your chest. Michael purposely didn’t look at you in particular, a bead of sweat on his brow that started traveling to his cheek bone.

Do I look like my mother when I glare at him like that?

Mai’s eyes narrowed, tone coming out terse and unrelenting as she slammed the door behind you and the Medicine Seller. Michael jumped, you winced, and the third party involved merely stepped to the side to allow Mai stomping room.

“Well that’s too bad…!” She snapped at her father, pointing a finger in his face and leaning over the front of his desk, “Because I’m sick of you dodging questions and lying to everyone when clearly we’re all in danger…! Maybe if you took some time to stop  praying, and start accepting reality this could all be cleared up much faster…!” 

Going right for the throat, it would seem. You so did love watching Mai dress down a man with her words, feeling rather good-natured about it all as you stepped back with a smile. Sure, he wouldn’t talk to you, but Mai was going to make damn sure he answered the Medicine Seller’s questions at the very least. 

Michael’s face hardened at her accusations, a muscle ticking in his jaw so visibly you thought his teeth might shatter from the clenching alone. As it was, her father was not happy with being yelled at by a woman, and especially not his child, someone he considered firmly under his authority and control. It was unfortunate that circumstances did not weigh in his favor at that moment, and whatever would have been considered socially acceptable no longer applied.

Regardless, he still leaned forward with both hands braced on the desk top, face a mask of anger that sent red flushing from his ears to both cheeks. Sweating profusely now, facing down three people he most certainly didn’t want to talk to, with all efforts exhausted and his attempts at avoiding the discussion no longer usable. 

“How dare you speak to your father like that…!” He snapped at Mai, growing more and more terse by the second as he rose to his feet, as if to strike her. “You are my daughter, and I won’t—!” 

“Sit your ass back down…!” You practically snarled, cutting the man off mid rant when his arm raised to definitely strike at your best friend. Tempers flared, hot and scalding, burning its way up to your throat as you took a very measured step forward, forcing his wide-eyed attention to land on the one person in the room he dared not look at. “Try that again, and I’ll personally make sure you end up in an oarfish's stomach, Michael.”

Oh, you could tell when your voice sounded too much like your mother’s. That viscous hiss, filled with venom as it spat out his name was enough to make Mai’s father sit down again, anger replaced by pale-faced horror and remembrance of your parent’s ferocity. He recalled each time she dressed him down, scolded him, shouted at him for his wrongdoings and supported Lady Tomoko endlessly, you knew that for sure by the way his eyes flickered away, down to the floor where less shame could be visible to all present. She was at the front lines every time he was a bad husband, a bad father, a bad businessman. If Lady Tomoko wasn’t there to keep her working in the house, he would have thrown her out day one considering her obvious hating of his guts, but after fifteen plus years of forced domesticity and sharing of a household? Yeah, it would be scary standing in that vulnerable position again, staring at her visage in the form of one angry daughter. 

You didn’t miss how the Medicine Seller’s eyes widened in polite surprise at your fierce outburst, his lips tilting up in an almost delighted sort of way, as if your anger exhilarated him. You tried not to notice, standing shoulder to shoulder with Mai now like one very protective guard dog. 

“Let’s start with some general inquiries then, shall we?” The Medicine Seller’s voice came calm and smooth, a stark contrast to the obvious animosity burning in the room like a boiler overheating. He stepped up at your left, eyes locking on Michael’s stiff form at the desk as he continued. “A little birdy informed us that there used to be a gaping hole in the yard where a new wing now sits, and there was a means of maintaining it that you, presumably, ignored?”

Michael’s head snapped up to glare at the Medicine Seller, your eyes catching how he gripped the edge of the desk hard enough for his knuckles to go white. Anger, frustration, anxiety—all three flashed across his face in rapid succession, unable to settle on just one as the question lingered in the open air uncomfortably. 

“Just who the hell do you think you are, coming into my office and speaking to me like that…?!” The hotel owner snipped, but the bead of sweat dripping from the left side of his brow betrayed his clear stress at the situation. “None of this concerns you! What I build on my land after purchasing it has nothing to do with the superstitions of a dying old man once the papers have my name on them…!”

He must have been talking about the previous head of the Inoue family. You recalled reading about him in the files earlier, how he and his children wanted to sell the land so he was closer to family living in the city. Though the very mention of superstitions had the hairs of your arm standing on end, a terrible creeping sensation slithering up your spine like a snake as images of the great, gaping maw kept returning as if flashing urgent signs to be looked at. It was a feeling similar to the times you had found that someone had desecrated a shrine, or committed vile acts on sacred Earth—wrong had been done despite clear warnings, and the little gold cross hanging on Michael’s neck was starting to feel like an annoying little dog collar, one that warned that his inaction would get others killed if not careful. The hotel owner’s stubborn streak was on display for all to see, and the Medicine Seller was most certainly starting to take note as his yellow eyes narrowed in clear displeasure, lips tilted down and clawed fingers twitching at one side. Oh boy, you had never really seen him mad before, had you? Something indicated that you might just get to see his temper in that office, pointed at a man that clearly didn’t want to cooperate. 

The sword clattered eagerly at the Medicine Seller’s side, its eyes darting between him and Michael as if watching the world’s most interesting stage play. You found yourself oddly distracted by the little thing, watching it as its master leaned forward, placing two splayed hands on Michael’s desk and putting his face within inches of the man in question.

“You seem oblivious to the problems facing you and your establishment at the moment,” He spoke so calmly despite the obvious annoyance on his face, the red tips of his hair swaying slightly as air traveled through the room like a warning, as if the very hotel breathed with it. “Your lack of understanding is going to get everyone, including yourself, killed.” 

He pulled the sword out of his kimono, pointing its dangling mane right in Michael’s face as it chattered excitedly in response. Mai’s father leaned far back at the sight of it, expression scrunching in equal parts confusion, revulsion, and fear. Clearly, he had not seen anything like it yet in his time living with Lady Tomoko, especially not when it seemed to move and animate of its own volition. You would have laughed at the absurdity of it all if not for how dire things felt, your ears ringing with the growing sounds coming from all around the hotel, and the rising sense of danger that accompanied it. Michael’s own energy was abrasive, familiar but uncomfortable. Especially when he was angry, it rubbed against your brain like sandpaper in the worst way, bringing with it an irritation you knew had been grown by your mother’s own hand. He was, at his worst, a total bastard.

You were tempted to step forward and cut him off again before he started yelling more at the Medicine Seller, but were instead surprised to find he didn’t need the help. The sword was shoved forward, jamming against the underside of Michael’s chin as those yellow eyes burned like coals at the hotel owner, filled with emotions you were struggling to identify.

“I am the only one in this hotel that can slay the mononoke threatening it,” The Medicine Seller hissed, gaze unwavering as Michael’s eyes flickered up to meet it. “To do so, I require its Form, Truth, and Reason —three things I cannot gather unless you and the others involved cooperate and give me necessary information.”

Michael looked like a balloon ready to pop, teeth grinding so hard in anger you wondered if they would start cracking, “ That makes no sense…! If you could just slay the thing with your so-called sword, then why not just do it already…?!”

Michael clearly wasn’t a good listener. You could only imagine what kind of frustration had to come with completely explaining the rules and requirements for an action, only to still have it questioned as if he hadn’t spoken at all. But the Medicine Seller’s patience resembled that of a saint, his expression not faltering, no sigh emerging from his chest and lacking in any additional frustration as he continued staring down at what was clearly an infuriating human being. He instead tilted the sword, flipping it around in his hand and narrowing missing the chance to clip Michael’s chin with it, the hilt now length wise in his grasp for display. You couldn’t help but admire the way it was crafted, the color, the adornments, its face staring between all the involved parties in the room like an excitable child. It was then you noticed a little bell sticking out from its hair, explaining while it jingled slightly with each movement, kind of like the scales that the Medicine Seller had placed around the hotel. 

The Medicine Seller, ever patient, continued explaining, his voice firm and filled with authority in the face of a man who had no choice but to listen, “My sword, Kon, is one of the 8 swords representing Yin and Yang, created in the realm of Shuga and entrusted to us sixty four guardians— it is the only weapon capable of slaying the Ikuchi mononoke…!”

Kon? Sixty four guardians? This had not been explained to you or Mai before in the slightest, the two of you sharing a confused glance before looking back at the Medicine Seller and Michael’s interaction. You couldn’t tell if Michael was buying any of that, not with how pale and sweaty he had already appeared and the way he pushed back in his chair hard enough you thought it might snap under the pressure.

“This Sacred Sword requires the Form, Truth, and Reason of the spirit killing your patrons…!” The Medicine Seller hissed, leaning forward again so he could jam the sword hilt into Michael’s throat, the hotel owner choking and gasping in shock at his actions. “You hold the information needed to find its reason, so it would be in your best interest to start talking before anyone else gets hurt…!” 

Oh, he was mad. You could hear it now in his voice, the way it lilted and rose, accompanied by a growled edge that had your stomach doing flips like an acrobat. That saint-like patience was clearly wearing thin, and the clear threat in his voice was enough to make Michael visibly swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing with the motion right above that sword hilt pressing into his flesh. For a moment, his gaze flickered to Mai as if pleading for her help, her support, anything in the clear face of adversity. But at that moment? She was not his ally in the slightest, not after watching Daichi die, not after watching you get hurt, her mother placed in clear danger. You saw her jaw stiffen from the corner of your eyes, her arms crossing firmly across her chest and resolve steel despite his silent pleading, her patience far thinner than yours or the Medicine Seller’s. Michael should have known she had quite the temper in the face of such obvious stupidity, and the safety of others came before his hurt pride.

You could feel energy rising in the room the longer Michael waited. His, the Medicine Seller, Mai’s, your own. But the clear rumbling of the hotel was growing louder now, as if rising from the depths of the sea. The tension coming from within that office did not bode well in terms of stirring up the hotel’s activity, your heart beginning to pound hard in fast in your chest and your breath starting to form clouds in the quickly cooling air. You could feel it, the spirit coiling from somewhere deep below, where you knew that gaping maw waiting as it had the day that child had been tossed below by her mother. 

“We need to hurry…!” You gasped, lurching forward to grasp at one of the arm folds of the Medicine Seller’s kimono. “It’s coming…!” 

As if to confirm your words, you all heard it at once—the chiming of bells in the hallways beyond, coming closer, closer, even closer still. Mai paled in fear at the rapidly approaching sound, whimpering and stepping closer to you as tears started forming in her eyes. The walls were starting to vibrate now, that rumble growing more pronounced as water started dripping carefully, quietly from the ceiling beams above, staining Michael’s paperwork in little drops that bleed the paper’s ink.

The Medicine Seller snarled in a way you did not expect, baring his unusually sharp teeth and placing one hard sandal on the table with a pronounced clack. The motion sent Micheal leaning back further, only now pressed by the hilt at his throat hard enough to bruise. 

“ We’re running out of time…!” The Medicine Seller snapped at the coughing hotel owner, the sound of bells growing louder and louder. “ What did the previous owner tell you…?!”

Closer. Closer.

I can hear its scales scraping against the walls further down. 

Michael could no longer deny that danger was coming his way. He swallowed hard again, eyes wild in a way you had not seen since the day your mother died as he cried pitifully, “H-he said the hole needed offerings…! Offerings every year, the same amount each t-time! Ten of some kind of food, into the hole to–to feed it…!” 

Ten offerings? Your eyes widened as you thought back to the child standing before the pit, her stomach aching, thinking of going into the town for food. Images began to manifest behind your eyes like a slideshow, showing missing pieces one after the other as all the information you had gathered began to weave and merge. The maw, the hungry child, her death at the bottom of the pit—her malice did not come from her mother’s actions, she knew why she had been tossed into the dark that day. If there was no child to take care of, her mother could take necessary steps to leave her abusive husband, or perhaps maybe she was too broken to be a mother anymore after all that they both endured. A piss poor excuse for what had been done, but the little girl had not begrudged them. No, it was her lingering hunger that had not faded even in death that kept her tied to that hole, begging for offers to try and sate and ache that would never go away. 

Year after year, time after time the Inoue family must have heeded her request, and in turn created a sacred cycle that bound itself to the land. Ten offerings, your mind whispered, for the ten years she spent on Earth. She didn’t feel that old when you had seen her before, but malnutrition must have made the girl smaller than she actually was. Every year, the Inoue family offered ten pieces of some sort of food to sate her, the cycle repeating through several decades of their family. Ten apples, ten riceballs, ten carrots, ten bowls of rice. Over and over, a different food each year. And now…a full year had passed with no offering, the long held tradition viciously broken and a hotel wing built over where her meals had been dropped, deep below in the cavernous maw of the sea at the mountain base. You realized with some horror now why there had been eleven claimed guests involved in this tragedy, and what the spirit’s new intentions entailed.

Ten humans to be consumed. One extra for the year lost. Eleven in total. 

You saw the Medicine Seller’s eyes widen at his words, the same realization clicking within his brain as all the pieces started to connect. In the next instant, his sword’s teeth clanged together hard at the revealed Reason of the Mononoke, ringing out far and wide through the hotel’s rooms as water started to pour from the roof above, and a horrible screaming echoed out from the hallway just outside from Michael’s office.

Read Chapter 9 on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66166489/chapters/174502706

Like what you see? Consider buying me a kofi: https://ko-fi.com/spiritofthevoid

Let's keep this ball rolling, shall we? See yall maybe friday (gods willing)

[spirit-of-the-void]

Oh yeah, this goes without saying but in case anyone asks.

I fucking hate AI. I LOATHE AI. I would sooner sit on a hot fucking grill than use it, I will go down swinging before I’m forced to accept it.

If I can write 90 wpm with carpal tunnel and 20 plus years of trauma with a pharmacy of meds keeping me upright? No excuses for the rest of y’all. Killing your brain with that shit

Also, I LIKE using m-dashes. They change the flow of a sentence in a way I ENJOY. Fuck off.

[spirit-of-the-void]

Mononoke Fic: The Saturated Iris

Read on AO3: HERE ~Chapter 8~ Act 1: Part 8:

Into the Abyss

Wind was blowing hard through the trees, branches swaying and crackling softly against the usual hum of ocean water down below. The air smelled like sea salt, reminding you of the fish monger that set up shop on the pier. His stall was always so stinky, but you liked to run along the dirt paths that lead to where dark pebbles lined the beach, listening to the strange man sing songs about the rolling waves as he hacked off the tails of fish. You thought about it now as you held your mother’s hand, eyes staring forward and occasionally down to make sure you didn’t trip. She always got upset when you did, and you didn’t want to make her upset. Stay quiet, be a good girl, walk fast enough to keep up and don’t fall down. 

The woods were not a kind place, she always told you, and would gobble up such a small child eagerly if given the chance. You took those warnings to heart, staring down at your dirty feet and counting each step like a silent game in your head, wincing when sharp stones or sticks prickled the tender skin of each heel and dug into little toes. Your mother hadn’t made you shoes in a while, had she? That was okay, you didn’t mind waiting until she was feeling better again.

Why did she want to go walking at night anyway? Your father had been angry earlier, so maybe that was the reason she tugged you through the underbrush, her head staring forward with dull eyes and mouth a firm frown that twisted your stomach anxiously. She was angry again, maybe not at you, maybe just angry at the world. Maybe she was mad that you mentioned being hungry again, since that seemed to set the tension off in the first place. There was a bruise where your father had struck her earlier, still fresh and bleeding from one scratch. Sometimes your mother would step in and prevent him from doing the same to you, but sometimes she was too tired—dead eyed, your father would call her, as she sat in the corner of the room and stared at nothing, perceived nothing, did nothing. You didn’t mind, you knew she went through a lot. Besides, tonight he didn’t try to hurt you at all, so it was fine that she was too tired to help. All she had done was slowly stand, take your hand, and pull you away from the house into the woods, leaving the smell of alcohol and your father’s sweat behind.

“Mommy, where are we going?” You had asked her, voice quiet and sweet, hand still clinging on two of her fingers like a lifeline. “My tummy hurts. Can we get something to eat?”

She didn’t say anything back, pulling you along without looking down at all. As if you weren’t there, just another ghost lost in the darkness and locked onto her form. You didn’t voice any complaints, happily following along, happy to just be there with her where father couldn’t be angry or shout. The moon was so pretty overhead, illuminating her in its pale glow even as thunder rumbled on the horizon, bringing with it a sticky humidity to the air that made your clothes feel stuffy and damp. A storm was coming, you didn’t like storms. They always brought damage to the cabin, and that made your father even more unhappy. If you weren’t careful, the flooding would come down the mountain and sweep everything away again.

Ah, your mother stopped walking. You grunted softly at the sudden stop, blinking as you stared around the clearing just slightly down the path from your cabin. It was strange, seeing the location your mother warned you about up close.

Never venture close to the pit, little one. It will swallow you whole.

A gaping crack in the Earth, how far down it went indiscernible to even the most keen eyes. Dark and craggly, moaning air up from its source below with the accompanying scent of the ocean, strong and potent. The first time you had seen it was when your mother had shown it to you, whispering about how she could hear the tossing of waves down, down below. It must have connected to underground caves near the cliff base down on the shore, where waves hit the mountain side in great, mighty swells. If something fell in, eventually it would fall to where ocean water cut through the stone underneath, into the sharp rocks like teeth aching to swallow whatever was offered. It scared you as a little thing, and continued to scare you now. You were still just a kid, after all—a scary mouth like that would happily eat you as a snack, at least according to your mother, and until now she had been steadfast in telling you to stay away.

Now your feet were nearly at the edge, toes hesitantly rubbing against one leg and body feeling strangely heavy at the sight of nothingness below. Your mother was silent, one hand still holding yours, her eyes locked on the darkness that howled before you with cold, unfeeling eyes.

Dead eyes. 

“Mommy?”

She had let go of your hand. You could feel her grab hold of your yukata collar, gripping hard enough to tug the fabric back around your neck. It hurt. You could feel a cry of confusion swelling in your throat, eyes stinging with tears as your little feet lifted from the dirt and dangled for but a moment. The maw loomed ever closer, several feet wide, several feet long. Large enough to eat a full cart of produce from the village, hungry enough to take even more if allowed. You didn’t have long to think about it as your little feet kicked, body turning and trying to wretch out of your mother’s grasp. Confusion, fear, horror. They mingled within even as your stomach ached painfully with hunger, akin to the hole she was holding you over—when was the last time you ate? You wanted to eat something good, anything, before the hole took you first, wanted to know what it felt like to be full once again, when times weren’t so dire and your father wasn’t so angry.

This gaping, angry maw in the Earth would eat its fill before you did. 

Your mother’s hand released your Yukata. 

Down.

Down.

Down. 

And then—

You jolted upright in Mai’s bed, letting out a gasp of alarm and staring wildly around the dimly lit room. 

How much time had passed was unknown to you, especially considering the outside showed no signs of changing and the storm continued to pound against the hotel. The same scenario you had been in before sleeping, it would seem, only now things had most certainly changed. The room was dark, barely illuminated by a lantern hanging from its hook on the ceiling, casting dancing, pale orange patterns onto the tatami mats and walls. You could see Mai curled up on a bed roll nearby, looking oddly akin to a little cat with her legs and arms tucked in such an uncomfortable way. Despite that, she was snoring, face scrunched up in that familiar frown and lips slightly pursed. It was a rare occurrence to see her hair so messy, half undone from its bun and strands pillowing around her head. She must have been very mad for a while to sleep that hard, as her tirade at the Medicine Seller seemed quite heated before you had fallen into the abyss of unconsciousness.

Your body felt better despite the circumstances, although the stiffness in your joints seemed reluctant to leave. What pain had previously inhabited your lungs was long gone, and the taste of blood was a distant memory as you stared down at your palms, examining the swirling bruises and wincing slightly when your fingers resisted a brief flex to test your level of discomfort. Pain was a familiar companion, and whatever the Medicine Seller had given you had got it down to a more reasonable level. You sighed quietly, almost inaudibly into the dark, looking around briefly to look for the man in question once you realized how quiet the room had become. It was hard to see anything considering you were fresh out of sleep, staring into a practically dark space and rubbing one eye as if it would will the black spots in your vision to fade away. It was helping, but not enough to make things easier to perceive. 

But it was hard to miss the Medicine Seller’s visage. 

To be entirely honest, the first thing that registered in your mind was your own clothing, hanging from thin twine along one of the walls to drip dry after sloshing around in all that water earlier. Alongside it were Mai’s pretty robes, pants, and a familiar kimono of bright, unmistakable color patterns, quietly drying in the dim lantern light. You blinked, following the natural progression of your eyesight to the opposite side of the room from Mai, feeling your heart racing unusually hard at the silhouette of a figure sitting criss-cross near where the room divided from tatami to hardwood. Your mind was struggling for a moment to comprehend what it was looking at, so accustomed to having seen the Medicine Seller in his flamboyant colored kimono, adorned with various little things in several, visible layers and stylized to its full potential.

It was jarring to see him sitting calmly by the door, hair a wavy ponytail over one shoulder and body now adorned in a simple, dark blue yukata. You could see him staring impatiently at his clothes hanging on the wall, head leaning against one arm as it braced against his leg. He hadn’t seemed to notice you being awake yet, appearing fairly sullen by his new attire and utterly out of place. Some strange part of you wanted to laugh at the sight of his new fit, the way its sleeves draped down from each arm, but you were more in awe than anything else. It was like seeing a fae in normal clothing, bizarre and jarring. 

But he somehow wore it more beautifully than any human had before, the yukata folds loosely showing where the red marks on his body swirled down to his chest. It felt scandalous to see his bare skin, pale and adorned with mysterious crimson patterns in places that had never once shown before. Even his bandana was draped up with the clothes, allowing his full head of hair to flow unperturbed over one shoulder. You did manage to realize water would have, should have, washed any paint away had it existed—so somehow all those markings, colors, and dyes were permanent. It made not a lick of sense to you, especially considering their even lining and perfectly symmetrical form. Tattoos, maybe? 

He looked irritated, sullen. Perhaps because he assumed no one was watching, having not heard you jolt awake earlier through the thunder and lightning. Or perhaps he was simply lost in thought, staring at his clothes and feeling a bit naked without them?

Mai got him out of his clothes before I did—what a shame.

Hey now, those weren’t thoughts meant for polite society. And certainly not while sitting in a room with him, staring at his chest like some scandalized young woman. 

You swallowed audibly, trying to force yourself to stop being an absolute fool. There were bigger fish to fry aside from your obvious insanity, and those took priority over the Medicine Seller in domestic clothes. Breathe in, breathe out. Have a damn normal thought, thank you very much.

“...I see Mai won,” Your soft voice immediately drew his yellow eyes to your person, darting to the side as he realized you were conscious once more. You could just recall their conversation before going unconscious, tone only slightly betraying your amusement. “You’re looking a bit damp there, pretty boy.”

The Medicine Seller did roll his eyes at that, not even subtle this time. It was cute of him to appear so grumpy, his dark purple upper lip tilted down in a frown that somehow won out over the natural smirk of his markings. 

“Simply put,” He growled softly, lip curling enough for you to see the sharp fangs of his lower and upper teeth. “It was easier to abide by Lady Mai’s demands rather than risk any more conflict. A smart man knows when he is defeated.”

Now that did make you laugh, your face immediately wincing at the motion as it ghosted some pain back through each lung. Worth it though—just imagining Mai forcing him to slog out of his wet layers was enough to put a smile on anyone’s face, especially when the outcome was this rewarding.

The Medicine Seller finally turned to fully face you, his annoyed expression softening slightly as you swung both legs over the edge of the bed to see how sore they were. More neutral now, despite the circumstances. Those yellow eyes tracked each limb like a hawk, almost unsettlingly so as you tested both the left and right joint, grunting quietly as to not wake the still-snoring Mai from her much needed rest. You appreciated her for putting you back in a new set of men’s clothes, blue in color this time. Sleeping in those layers had been nice considering the cold, which you noticed the moment clouds of crystal started appearing from each breath into the still, unsettling air. Christ, it was like winter in the hotel now. It was both a blessing and a curse, as the chill would help with any lingering pain, but the numb sensation in your fingers would only cause problems if left unaddressed. You shuddered softly at the thought, the motion accompanied by a loud rumble of thunder from above and more sheets of hard, unrelenting rain slamming against the roof as if demanding entry within. 

You rubbed your hands together to warm them, legs pulling up from the floor to mimic his criss-cross pose on the bed, “It’s freezing in here. How long was I out this time?”

The Medicine Seller let out a low hum, tilting his head back so he could look at the scales still lining the room, still and silent, “No more than four hours. If the sun were present, it would be evening now.”

That made sense. Not that it was a good thing in the slightest. 

A sigh left your lips, filling the air in front of you with a soft cloud that quickly dispersed, “I see. I…”

Your voice trailed off as you remembered the incident from earlier, the glass embedded in the Medicine Seller’s arm, the blood. Crimson and thick, dripping down from each of those sharp finger nails. A chill of realization ran up your spine at the implication of how injured he must have been, taking the brunt of your impact and shielding you from falling debris. Gods, how could you have forgotten that? Anyone’s bones could have broken from such an encounter, sprained if they were lucky. Hell, the bruising alone would be enough to put the common man down for weeks in recovery, and on top of all that the Medicine Seller had carried you upstairs possibly sporting injuries none of you had seen. There wasn’t exactly a doctor or physician of any kind there to take care of anyone, and you doubted his little concoctions could just mystically heal broken bones. Would he tell anyone if he was hurt, if something was wrong? Maybe that was partly why he didn’t want to remove his kimono?

Maybe you were overthinking, maybe it was irrational. But he never explained a damn thing about himself, so that seed of worry easily took root in the garden of your chest, and flourished without any additional help. Without thinking you pushed off of the bed, feet padding quietly on the hardwood as you approached him, determination in every step. He blinked at the sound of your approach, turning to look up at you with a rather perplexed expression as you sat down comfortably inches from where his legs crossed. The motion certainly wasn’t a comfortable one, your body most definitely protested—but you ignored it, deeply troubled by the notion of him having hurt himself on your behalf. You didn’t like it. There was no real way to cope with the way it stirred up trouble in your cranium, swirling like storm clouds that threatened rain.

“You were hurt earlier,” Your tone remained quiet as Mai grunted in her sleep, rolling over so her back faced you both. One of your hands reached out to where his arm braced on the ground, hesitating to touch him as you softly requested. “Can I see it?”

The room suddenly felt so, so quiet in comparison to before. You could practically feel his warmth this close, and those pale yellow eyes hovered on your face for a moment as he tried to read your expression. Something about the way his lids lowered like that made your heart feel a thousand times heavier, the white of his lashes almost dreamy the way they flickered with each blink. His expression was somehow even more unreadable now, in this dark room, him leaning slightly forward toward you and the yukata folds hanging off of his chest. You were trying very, very hard not to look in that general direction, but staring at his eyes seemed even more daunting.

Regardless of your obvious worry, the Medicine Seller was obedient to your request, slowly raising his arm and allowing your hand to wrap gingerly around his wrist. There his pulse thrummed steady and warm beneath the unusually pale skin, strangely matched to the pace of your own as it took off like a race horse. You released a breath you didn’t know was stuck in your lungs, heart pounding as you carefully pushed back his sleeve to reveal pale, unmarred skin. No scars, no scratches, no blood. Just his usual, bizarre complexion, flesh almost creamy and bare where the swirling patterns ended at his elbows. He was very patient in letting you stare in disbelief, turning his arm over once, twice, three times looking for any sign of injury. But all the damage that had been there was now gone, and you were filled with a strange mixture of relief, confusion, and worry at such a revelation. Did he heal fast, like you did? Or had you imagined all that damage in the haze of using your ability, and now it all felt like some distant dream conjured up by the restless visions rattling around in your skull?

“It’s…gone…” Your voice came out soft, almost wispy, hand almost instinctively sliding up the ridges of his bicep to reveal more of the patterned, crimson markings that adorned his form. “I could have sworn you had slammed into the floor, that you were bleeding…gods, you really do have a lot of those tattoos—”

The Medicine Seller let out another quiet, bemused hum, and you suddenly realized how close you had gotten while examining, on your knees now and craning closer as your hands traced one of those red, swirling lines. You could see his yellow eyed gaze lazily watching you from the side, lips curled into a smirk that sent electricity through your gut like a live wire. Against your will, both cheeks flushed warm in sharp contrast to the cold in the room, and you sat back on your feet like a chastised child, despite him having not said anything at all. Wow, you had gotten carried away, touching a man like that in a dark room while your friend slept. This would throw most into a tizzy if it had been witnessed, especially when done by a young, unmarried woman. And to think of all the times you had chastised Mai for being that bold, openly flirting with men when they visited the manor and making a lot of rather uncomfortable trouble while helping her father negotiate with buyers and businessmen. 

“S-sorry,” You managed to stammer an apology, trying not to remember the feeling of his biceps under your hands as you let them fall into your lap again. “I was just…surprised. I was worried that you were badly injured from the fall…”

The Medicine Seller’s eyes softened slightly at your words, though you definitely didn’t miss the flicker of surprise in his expression as that arm you were manhandling rested back at one side. The way his fingers flexed softly, almost indiscernible made your stomach clench like a fist. 

“You’ll find I am much more resilient than the average human,” His reply was measured, calm and low in the dark. “Although I did bleed briefly, injuries like that do not linger on my flesh.”

You didn’t expect for him to reach out the way he did after speaking, his same hand grasping gently at where your right hand rested in your lap. You held a breath as it was lifted for the Medicine Seller’s scrutiny, his eyes darkening just slightly at the sight of bruises on each palm. Even in the dim light they appeared painful and grisly, marking the skin in a way that made you feel oddly self-conscious compared to his perfect, almost porcelain flesh. He was resplendent in so many ways, perfect like a doll and bouncing back to normal in mere hours with not a single blemish on his arm. Yet you were somehow the more breakable one, easily shattered and unwoven by even the slightest use of an ability that not even you knew how it came about.

“Your ability hurts you,” The Medicine Seller observed, tracing one sharp, black nail down your palm and sending a bolt of electricity up your spine. It took all your willpower not to squeak like some timid mouse, your other hand gripping the fabric of your pants like a lifeline. “It damages your body in a way I have yet to observe in another. Yet you push it regardless, almost to the point of self sacrifice.”

It wasn’t an accusation, merely a stated fact that rolled off his tongue like an observation of the weather. You felt your breath trickle out of each lung slowly, measured and uncertain at his words. There was a strange, unmistakable intimacy in the way he handled you, firm yet gentle, both yielding and unyielding. Desperation coiled in your gut, an unexpected guest to the party you had not encountered in such a way before.

I can’t think. 

“I…I suppose I just want to be useful…” You struggled to articulate, eyes locked on where his skin made contact with your own. 

A gentle glide of his thumb up from your palm to where your pulse thrummed wildly under the skin of your wrist. The Medicine Seller could most certainly feel it, smoothing his thumb over the bluish hue there and tilting his head slightly at the ramped up pace. His lips were so distracting this close, his eyes on you, hands on you. When had someone last touched you in such a way? Surely never, never like this. Never in a way that made you painfully ache, heart thudding uncontrollably fast and breaths catching in your throat—did he even notice the affect that he had on you? He must have, but you were struggling to find the indication that would confirm it as truth. 

Your next response faltered in the haze surrounding your brain, a bit unsteady as you added almost breathily, “I don’t…I don’t want to sit idly by while people get hurt.”

Was he scolding you? It was so hard to tell by the look on his face, the cadence of his tone. All those wanton little thoughts you had been ignoring for the better part of two days felt incredibly loud while the Medicine Seller’s hands were on you, gently touching, gently exploring just as you had to his arm. Your head spun the higher he went, tracing the bruised skin with pronounced carefulness all the way to where it met the crook of your elbow, a quiet exhalation leaving his lungs. You saw fascination in those yellow eyes, elation, an unspoken excitement as his thumb pressed to where blood pulsed in a vein there, covered by the dark stain of bruising from previously using your abilities. Dizzying warmth flooded your lower half, echoed by virtigo in your head at how he handled you, how he stared at your skin. There was a moment you swore unconsciousness might overtake you again by way of excitement and confusion alone, watching the way his lips slightly pursed and his head tilted almost undetectably at the amped up speed of your pulse. 

“I can feel it at times, when you touch my skin,” The Medicine Seller murmured, seemingly indifferent to the way your face flushed red in the dim light, the light hitch of breath that just barely managed to escape from your throat. “Like electricity, almost static from your fingertips. Such a familiar sensation, tangible, warm…volatile.”

He was speaking words, and you were struggling to comprehend through your own heartbeat drumming in both ears. You would be a liar if you even tried to claim a man ever handled you like this in the past, as your patience for most of the opposite gender was short and always worn thin. But this…something about the Medicine Seller felt like a match, and you a powder keg ready to burst into flames at the first spark. It was funny before when you haughtily tried to ignore the little prickles of interest, attraction, and curiosity making their home in that thing you called a brain, but it was hopelessly difficult to ignore yearning when it was right at your front door. It was almost like the Medicine Seller’s voice was trying to coax that power you held within like a wellspring, bubbling forth till it started warming your chest and throat. 

His hand was inching further up your arm, and he was leaning in, breaths fanning against the side of your head like a warm caress. Any normal, sane person would have pulled away, but instinct had always been your driving force, and it held you in his net like a moth to a flame. Being close to him felt as easy as breathing, to be touched by his hands like pure energy fluttering against your skin. Those nails slightly tracing, pressing, squeezing enough for you to feel it, but gentle enough not to hurt. You could imagine what it would feel like for the Medicine Seller to sink his sharp canines in your throat, the burn of pain, the trick of blood from your neck to collar bone in stark, pure crimson. A dizzying thought, one that had you fighting the urge to bare your neck in submission, to lean into the Medicine Seller and simply let him do as he wished. 

You wanted to plunge inside him and drown. Hopelessly. And that wasn’t a feeling that had ever existed within your body before.

Your voice came out breathy and low, yet still feeling so damn loud in the quiet of the small room you shared with one sleeping Mai, “I…that’s…”

You had no earthly idea what thought was attempting to vocalize itself, not with his face so close to your own. Like a siren luring you in, his canines in your peripheral vision as his lips tilted into a coy smile. 

“You should take better care of yourself, little priestess,” He hummed, the sound a purr of air near your ear, and the natural vibration of his energy carrying like a traditional flute through the background noise. Somehow more tangible than the darkness of the hotel, and the eerie howling it continued to carry through the never ending night you both endured. “I will not have you perishing under my watch, is that understood?”

Wow, how were you supposed to respond to that? He didn’t previously know the extent to which your abilities did damage to that fragile human body, so this was definitely a warning to stop putting yourself directly in the line of danger. One that you were ready and willing to heed, provided the circumstances were flexible and kind. Which, let’s be honest, they never were. Besides, his method of delivering said information wasn’t exactly selling it in the way he had probably hoped. Instead, you felt like a foggy-headed lunatic ready to lay it all on the line just for another moment touching him, which would be a tidbit of information both you and your broken common sense would have to unpack later. Much, much later. 

You had opened your mouth to respond to that haughty little request when a stirring at the other end of the room caught both your attention and the Medicine Seller’s. You swear he sighed, those pretty yellow eyes rolling once before they cast themselves in Mai’s direction without turning his head. You half expected him to immediately pull away at the sight of her groggily sitting up, but instead the bizarre man took his damn good natured time leaning away, both hands tracing back down the path they originally took up your arm. You could have melted into a stupid little puddle in front of him, but instead tried to compose yourself as Mai rubbed at her eyes, blearily turning her head to your direction and obviously still fighting the blanket of sleep based on the look she wore. Despite that, Mai had most definitely seen the retreat of the Medicine Seller’s hands from your person, just as those black nailed hands lifted from your palms and his spine straightened back to his proper kneeling stance.

Like a kid getting caught stealing candy, that’s what this felt like. You hoped to god she didn’t see how brightly colored your cheeks were, and instead focused on the perfect, almost lazy composure of the Medicine Seller. Damn him for looking so casual, so unaffected. Annoying.

“Y/N…?” Mai at the very least sounded simply confused and exhausted, pushing the blanket off her legs so she could scoot herself closer. You sighed in relief at the lack of anger in her eyes, reaching out and taking her hand as she settled feet from you and the Medicine Seller with slightly bloodshot eyes. “How are you feeling…? You okay…?”

Her worry was touching and calming all at once, like a blanket of security in what was unfamiliar territory for you at best, and downright terrifying at worst. You never did things like this, never felt so profoundly, never wanted in a way that clouded reason. There was no room to tackle it, to examine, to think. So you started compartmentalizing, and Mai’s presence certainly gave aid to that process.

”I feel a lot better,” You replied, taking her hand in your own as the Medicine Seller stood from the floor in one graceful movement, padding over to where his kimono hung mostly dry. “Promise, I’m just a little sore at this point.”

Mai frowned at your attempt to downplay things, but it wasn’t exactly a lie. Things had been dire in previous hours, but she knew you healed fast, and bounced back even faster. And besides, whatever the Medicine Seller had given you did wonders for your aching joints and lungs, leaving you room to breathe and move with an ease that surprised even yourself. You wiggled your fingers in Mai’s grasp as if to prove your point, the motion unaccompanied by pain or stiffness. If you played your cards right, which was admittedly unlikely, you could be free of the bruising by the next day, back in full working order. Only an idiot would continue pushing themselves after coughing up blood, and despite your obviously moronic nature considering the interaction had with the Medicine Seller moments prior, you weren’t willing to keep pressing your luck in such an obviously dangerous way. Things had to be careful moving forward, and you didn’t want to put Mai in any more hard spots that involved being your maid, nurse, or caretaker. She didn’t mind, she never would, but that didn’t mean you would continue taking advantage of that kindness, not while you had choices in the matter.

You let out a soft sigh, opening your mouth to continue talking since Mai was choosing the road of dubious silence. But you heard Mai squeak in alarm, and she dove forward in the next instant to cover your eyes with both hands.

”Hey!” She sputtered, and you felt her tug you and herself now facing away from the where the Medicine Seller had gone to retrieve his kimono, “Don’t you know better than to undress in front of two young women..?!”

Ohhh boy. Now was not a good time to try and look at the Medicine Seller undressing, Mai would never let you live it down. But the curiosity and disappointment burned bright and hot in your chest, eyes blinking almost instinctively against the barrier of Mai’s hands as if it would somehow clear your vision. 

You heard him let out a click of his tongue lightly at Mai’s shouted words, his tone incredibly droll as he replied, “Such conflicting information. You were the one threatening me with violence earlier had I not removed my ‘sopping wet kimono’.”

Mai continued sputtering like an angry cat, bristling in equal parts indignation and anger. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes in exasperation, feeling like she was back in Mai mom mode in some feeble attempt to protect your mythical chastity, which was completely unnecessary considering the type of dancing you did on a regular basis. Men bare chested and almost nude were nothing new, and up until recently you had been rather accustomed to being in their presence without becoming flustered. Apparently the Medicine Seller was a rare exception, one that sent your heart racing like a bird’s fluttering wings at the idea of him undressing in the same room you sat in. Not that you wanted to ogle like some silly, lovestruck teen, but all of this felt rather unnecessary, and you were getting rather irritated at Mai babying you in situations like this.

You sighed heavily, unceremoniously yanking her hands down from your eyes and turning their glare on Mai, who was still purposely keeping her back turned.

”Mai, it literally doesn’t matter,” You huffed, rubbing the red spot her palms made on the upper part of your cheek, “We’re all adults in a haunted hotel, it’s fine. Besides, if anyone should be averting their eyes from bare men it’s you, little miss soon to be engaged…!”

Mai pouted slightly at that, instead placing both hands on her own eyes to cover them despite her obvious annoyance at your tone. You knew she meant well, but gods alive there was no time to be playing chaste, young lady at that moment. Instead, all focus needed to be drawn back to the issue at hand, not that you were one to talk considering the amount of time wasted mere moments ago touching on a man you had no right to be touching on. 

You turned to say something to the Medicine Seller, not willing to admit that it was a cheeky little excuse to catch a glimpse at a little more skin. If he was shameless enough to undress in the room, you would be equally shameless in staring at what he had to offer. Besides, you weren’t lying when saying the male form was one you had seen on many occasions—this circumstance was just a tad bit different, a little more scandalized, and definitely more of a foolish impulse on your end. Maybe those sedatives were still swimming around in your body? Or maybe you were just a god damn idiot.

Although he was already pulling the kimono on when you finally got a chance to look, there was a brief window of time that allowed you an eyeful of his back, eyes widening slightly at what met your gaze. 

His skin was as pure as fresh snow, pale and almost creamy in a way that was completely unblemished. Perfect, pristine, sublime. Strong shoulders that were always hidden by that layered, beautiful kimono, speaking of the strength you had previously seen him wield while holding back a writing oarfish. But his skin…it almost felt forbidden to see how almost elegant it appeared, like staring at something not meant for human eyes. Soft and almost feminine in the way his markings coiled into shifting, indiscernible shapes, ones you just couldn’t make sense of.  It was an odd contrast to the bunching muscles of his back as he lifted the fabric back over his shoulders, covering up swirling, red and blue markings that continued down past where you could see, concealing them in one swift movement. You released a breath you didn’t know was being held the moment he was covered, his outfit almost completely returned in a matter of seconds. Clearly you had missed the initial removal of that dark blue yukata and the accompanying pants, and your cranium tried to maintain that as a good thing, and not a missed chance to stare at his bare body. Like a moron.

I’m not depraved. I’m not. I need to breathe. 

The Medicine Seller turned his head ever so slightly to gaze at you over one shoulder, his hands swift in reapplying his adornments where you couldn’t see his front. You definitely didn’t miss how his yellow pupils met your own, nor the coy curve of his purple upper lip at having caught you staring.

Okay, maybe I am a little depraved.

Read on AO3: HERE Like what you see? Buy me a kofi uwu: HERE Happy thursday, have an extra chapter this week since yall have been wonderful <3 comments are, as always, hella appreciated!

[spirit-of-the-void]

Mononoke Fic: The Saturated Iris

Read on AO3: HERE

~Chapter 7~

Act 1:

Part Seven: Form, Truth, and Reason.

You could hear it, coming from the lobby. Shouting, screaming, something crashing onto the floor with a hard thud and continued rumbling that followed. Your feet felt like they were on fire, calve muscles screaming with the strain of running towards the commotion, lungs pumping out air with renewed fervor. The stairs down to the lobby were fast approaching, the art-covered doors on all sides a blur of color and shapes as you streaked past, the Medicine Seller’s hand still clinging to your sleeve like an anchor point, keeping you a few steps behind even if not by choice. You could see the wooden box on his back, lantern in one hand, his light, wavy hair flowing wildly out behind him and only contained by that dark blue bandana. His kimono sleeves whipped with each motion, practically in a dance with your own as you made a sharp turn at a sudden corridor at the end of the hall, the Medicine Seller quickly wrapping his arm around your waist to brace you so as to not make sudden impact with the wall. You gasped at the unexpected motion, cushioned against his side as he sprinted for the now visible lobby landing, his eyes wide with excitement and feet precise in each and every step.

You expected him to let you go, but instead his arm anchored harder around your waist. Another surprised gasp left your lungs as he leapt for the balcony railing in one fell swoop, geta sandals perfectly balanced on the thin bar and body coiling to jump down to the desk below. You sucked in a rather shaky breath, body held in mid air for a moment before gravity started pulling you both below, the Medicine Seller rather graceful in keeping you carefully attached at the hip as you descended down to the main floor. His sandal clacked hard on the hardwood of the desktop, sending papers and what appeared to be little knickknacks flying off before he expertly continued his momentum down to the ground in one more step. Ever so careful to take all the impact, ever gentle as he finally allowed your feet to make contact with the rug surrounding the main area of the lobby. Your clothing and hair settled with it, heart practically in your throat and mind in a whirlwind of confusion, shock, and adrenaline at having been jerked around through the hallways that fast. It didn’t help that you were now at the epicenter of all the sound, head jerking up in realization as wind whipped around the room, stirring everything up once more and leaving you feeling like the wind tunnel hand returned.

In the middle of the room stood the cook, several long strides between him and your duo. An empty bottle of booze lay smashed on the floor, another half drank in his hand as he swayed and groaned, his hair a disheveled mess on his head and clothing askew. The acrid smell of liquor hit your nose even from that distance, along with the briny scent of the sea, so strong that you could have been standing in wave pools with sand between your toes. A humming sound circled him like a whirlpool, bringing the room’s air with it like a tornado manifesting. You sucked in a sharp breath in shock, feeling the Medicine Seller tug you to the right a bit to put some more distance between you and the man. He could feel it too, that sensation of energy in the floor. One quick glance downward confirmed water was starting to seep from the wooden beams like water spouts, pooling and trickling into the lobby until an inch of water was already at your feet. 

It was almost oily on top, the sheen flickering with the light of the lantern the Medicine Seller had left on the desk, you hadn’t even realized until it sent shimmering patterns across the water’s surface. Iridescent, pinks and blues, yellows and greens. It seemed to move and sway like a living thing, swirling around the cook, Daichi, sobbing loudly as he swung an arm around and threw the second bottle past you and the Medicine seller with a hard crack. You watched the water rise again around his ankles, rumbling filling the room and sending several items tumbling from shelves, falling into the water and sending splashes all around before sinking to the floor. You paled slightly at the feeling of liquid sloshing at your ankles, hungry to go higher, to swallow you whole as the sound of distant wailing grew closer and closer, aching to be in the room where Daichi had his meltdown. The wind whipped at him like slashes, tossing his already messy hair back and forth, almost toppling the already unstable, drunken man.

You saw the Medicine Seller’s eyes flicker across the room, taking it all in, memorizing every detail as he ripped the ofuda off his sword hilt. You watched its wild eyes light up in delight at the man at the epicenter of clear supernatural activity, mouth open and mane of hair whipping around in the wind. 

“Daichi…!” You shouted to the man, trying to take a step forward as your eyes flickered above, watching as water started pouring in thick, black rivets from the ceiling, adding to the already threatening pool below. “You need to calm down…! It’s—”

Daichi whipped around to stare at you, eyes glassy and wild as his hands twitched at both sides, as if longing to claw at the air. 

“ I told them…!” He wailed, voice slurred and hard to understand over the mess of sound assaulting your ears. “ I-I told them, and—they didn’t listen…!” 

Told them what? You grit your teeth as the water made its way past your knees, inching towards waist height now. Your senses were alight from all directions, yanking your mind back and forth, side to side in an attempt to draw attention to any one point. Instinctively your hands flew up to cover your ears, eyes squeezing shut as images came to mind, faint whisps of feeling coming from the water, from Daichi himself.

Whispers sometimes come up from the grease drain.

Up from the sinks too.

I can hear it. It’s hungry, it’s angry. 

I told them. I told them and they didn’t listen.

You were trapped in the swirl of shouts and wails, failing to notice Michael and Mai rushing from the downstairs entrance to the lobby from the direction of her father’s office, staring at horror at the scene in front of them. As soon as the cook spotted them his eyes practically bulged out of his head, rage flashing across his mouth in the shape of a vicious snarl even as the horror lingered where his pupils became a pinpoint on their faces. He was terrified, angry, and volatile. You could feel each note plucking, ripping, and tearing at your head, the resounding spiritual energy in your chest echoing it back like warning drums. Or maybe that was your heart beating, loud and fast where it rested in its rightful place within, fueled by adrenaline and the chaos inside this room. The Medicine Seller raised his sword hilt as if to shield you both, anticipating something that you were already beginning to feel, coiling both above and below as a high pitched ring started to fill the room.

“ I told you…!” Daichi roared at Michael, who stepped in front of Mai to protect her even as his face went sheet white. “ Crazy you called me…! Crazy when I know what you did, what you covered…! You ran my drainage pipes to that awful thing, and now—!” 

You and the Medicine Seller shared a brief look of confusion, quickly returning back to Daichi as he started sobbing pitifully, hands gripping fistfuls of his own hair, tears becoming one with the water below.

Michael swallowed visibly at his accusations, bracing himself on the doorframe as the rising tide sloshed around his and Mai’s waists, “I—I didn’t, that’s not—”

Cracking, splintering sounds trickled down from above, your eyes darting to where the beams holding up the ceiling bowed and warped unnaturally under immense weight. Black, thick fluid oozed across its surface, filling it all like an inky ebony tarp as the deep red snout of the first oarfish began to push, wiggle, and force itself through. You could hear it groaning deep from within, its eyes glassy and white as it stared down at Daichi, hatred and malice there in the depths of its hollow stare. You realized that grease was dripping from its open maw, pattering down on the cook as he turned his eyes upward as well, mouth open wide in a silent scream as he saw the creature hovering above. 

Garbage started spewing out of the fish’s mouth onto him, in a thick, putrid stream as more and more oarfish started to emerge, darting out into the room like silver arrows and leaving sharp slashes in table tops, the floor, and walls. You heard Mai scream in alarm, The Medicine Seller shooting forward like it was a bell heralding the call of battle, his eyes locked on where the mononoke was staring down at Daichi, eyes unflinching as he howled and cried from underneath more and more trash, tar, and bile. You gasped as if in a trance, watching the Medicine Seller leap to the nearest table, throwing a circle of ofuda around the room in a perfect arch. His eyes were so focused, so clear and calm that you found your heartbeat calming, palms burning hot and electric as the giant oarfish emerged from the ceiling, done with its vile discharge and circling above like a slithering serpent. 

You moved without thinking, as always. Difficult as that was in waist high water, you found spiritual energy guiding each step, feeling somehow weightless as you leapt onto the closest couch, one foot braced on the back and eyes locked on the target above.

The Medicine Seller shot a glance in your direction even as he moved to the next wall, trying to lock the creature in a spiritual box of ofuda as he shouted over the noise, “ I cannot draw my sword until I know its form, truth, and reason…! Can you—”

I can.

Your senses were sharp, mind locked on its task despite the confusing nature of the Medicine Seller’s request. You had no idea exactly what all those things meant, but if there was one thing your ability allowed for, it was getting into the heads and memories of the deceased. And if those were necessary for ending all of this, you would happily take the pain left over at the end. Fleeting and temporary, whereas this was more than an opportune time to get killed, which wasn’t optimal for anyone involved. 

Your pant legs were quickly hiked up to your knees, draw strings yanked taunt and tied in place to keep them from sliding back down. Mai’s eyes were on you, and you swore her cry of alarm and warning had briefly made itself known over the chaos, but you paid it no mind, trying to channel as much of that deep, strange power within so that it went coursing hot and alive through each vein. Burning, throbbing, agony. Your mouth opened in an unwilling snarl of pain, black tears tracking down your flushed cheeks and hands twitching into claws at your sides. Breathe, think, and breathe again. You could do this, you could make sure this situation comes to an end sooner rather than later. Your gaze widened, taking in every scale of the creature, watching its energy pulse and move on the surface of the water through that inky sheen, and where that energy coiled and sprung as if each of the creature’s breaths kept it alive.

“ Y/N…!” Mai screamed at your left, but you ignored it. 

Teeth grit, legs bent to spring—movement. Fast and hard, more than you expected even from your human legs. The surge of your ability gave added heft to the leap, sending you up high enough to grab onto one of the oarfish’s fins, even as it tried to dart hard and fast towards Michael and Mai. It screamed the moment you made contact, veering hard and quick towards a wall in a flurry of its serpentine body to try and make you a smear on the wallpaper. You managed to swing yourself around with its momentum, both legs wrapping around its undercarriage and one burning hand thrusting itself hard to its scales. Hot, scorching, aching, pain. You were holding onto the creature for dear life as it thrashed and swayed, letting out guttural screams loud enough to shatter the glass windows all around the lobby. Still you stayed, concentrating, ignoring when it slammed you against tables, the floor, chairs. You had something to look for, and were determined to find it.

The Medicine Seller threw more ofuda around the room as the creature tried to buck you off and escape, his yellow eyes sharp as they followed each movement it took you. He was fading into the background as your hand sunk into this creature like the very tar it conjured, scales warping and bowing under your digging nails and its life energy thrashing where you sought to touch it, even once with your fingertips. Searching, sinking, plucking at silvery-gold threads that continued to try and evade detection, almost slippery and gossamer the more you tried to access them. 

A brush. A vision, brief and unstable.

A little shack in the woods. A window is broken.

Someone is shouting inside.

A hole in the ground. No, not a hole—a maw, long, rigged, a crack in the Earth.

I can hear the ocean inside, like putting your ear to a sea shell.

Mommy? Where are we going?

The oarfish let out a sound that resembled a half-sobbed scream, body twisting around so hard and fast that it practically ripped your hand out from its scales. You gasped at the motion, eyes squeezing shut as one leg slipped, then another, and suddenly you were no longer attached anymore. The threat of impact would be hard and fast, and your eyes squeezed shut to brace for it as your stomach heaved and rolled, as if aching with hunger of all things. The remaining emotions were still there in your body, clinging like a chill that not even fire would shake. Enough so that your body went limp on its way to crashing down to the floor, like a ragdoll and completely spent from the expulsion of energy that had gathered all that information at once.

You felt arms hook around your waist before the floor came, sending you both flying back and crashing into the water near one of the back walls. Debris cracked and shattered under the impact, water arcing in a great wave that splashed up toward the ceiling even as your vision was obscured by the inky black under the surface. Pain flashed across each limb, jarring and almost icy amidst the familiar burn of your ability, both a reprieve and an added curse as you and the body at your back hit the ground hard enough to shatter the spine of even the strongest man, sending alarm ringing through your head and sheer panic as you sought to gather yourself, your surroundings, whoever had taken the blow. For a moment, all you could do was hold your breath, still cradled against a warm, sturdy chest, still aching and nauseous from using your ability. One of the stranger's arm wrapped around your mid abdomen, the other braced across your chest as you floated for but a moment, the water gently swaying and swirling back and forth, like being under the ocean. The roaring in your ears was somehow even louder under the water, and you managed to open your eyes if only for a moment to try and see what was in front of you.

Someone was standing there. In the darkness, hair flowing back and forth, face blurry and hard to make out in the swirling dark that surrounded their tiny, frail body. Holding a plush of some kind in one arm, looking as if it was made from a leftover flour sack and buttons. Two bright, white eyes stared at your clear and precise through the strange haze that made their face impossible to see, dead-eyed and cold as they raised a hand to their stomach, mouth moving and words coming much later as if delayed, echoing across some wide, open expanse that you couldn't perceive.

I was hungry. I was hungry, and you did not feed me.

Your stomach ached as if echoing the sentiment, burning and twisting as if you had not consumed food in several weeks or more. The sensation was jarring, painful, causing your mouth to open in a silent scream under the water and water to come rushing in despite your best efforts. Your body heaved as if about to vomit, like it was trying to dislodge the remaining threads connecting you to this creature so the pain would end, so you wouldn't have to feel its suffering anymore.

As quickly as the image appeared, it was gone. Your body lurched as the water did, coiling and pulling back out of the room and back up into the ceiling from whence it came. You shrieked at the sensation of it pulling both you and the body at your back up with it, before gravity won the battle and sent you both tumbling back to the hardwood. Someone braced over you as debris came raining down from all the commotion, bottles of sake smashing on one side and shards of wood clattering down on the other. You could still smell the sea brine, mingled now with the soft, sweet scent of a familiar form hovering over yours, kimono half draped sopping wet across your back and his chin resting against your hair. The Medicine Seller—he had grabbed you when the oarfish had bucked hard enough, sending you both into the outer wall. You should have known that, should have guessed by the half snarled grunt of strain that had left him when his back hit the water, the way his claws had dug into your clothing and held on like a vise.

Panic filled you briefly, knowing you had collided with furniture and at least a half dozen other things before cracking hard into the ground. That was more than enough speed to kill a human being, breaking their back like a twig. But he was still there, braced above your form with one arm bent to the ground before your eyes, and the other pressed firmly to ground on your right to brace his body enough not to crush your own. Your eyes widened at the sight of glass embedded in one side of his left arm, trickling blood faintly onto the quickly drying floor in a steady stream. Vivid, dark red, your eyes locked on it in a frozen state of disbelief  as the last bits of broken décor and belongings hit the floor. He…he was hurt. He could be hurt. Why did you ever think otherwise? Why, in all this time, did it feel like the Medicine Seller was just some invincible thing, incapable of taking damage? Flesh, blood, and bone are all the same—especially for you, and just so for him.

“Y…you’re bleeding…” Your voice came out shaking, tinier than you expected before your stomach lurched, one hand flying to your mouth as if it could physically stop the bile. 

The Medicine Seller didn’t acknowledge what you said, instead realizing you were most likely on the verge of being quite sick. He quickly pushed off from the ground, kimono still dripping sea water onto the floor as he brought himself and you into a sitting position. Your vision was growing blurry as the fatigue started catching up, arms and legs like lead weights, sluggish as you were pulled upright. Your head sagged forward, threatening to pull you with it, but the Medicine Seller’s arms caught you before it could come to pass, his breaths gracing your left ear and his expression unreadable from the position you were now in. Exhausted. You were wasted by that little stunt, struggling to stay awake, struggling not to puke. But you had seen something in those flashes, something worth telling him about. Your tongue felt glued to your mouth despite that burning need to share that which you had witnessed, throat dry as if you had chugged salt water. Maybe that was the case when you had screamed, and the thought alone was enough to make your stomach do kick flips as it threatened to lose the bile that was currently begging for freedom.

“ Y/N…!” Mai’s cry cut through the white noise a bit as she came running over, leaving her father pale and shaken in the doorway. She practically slid to her knees by your side, helping the Medicine Seller keep you upright from the other side and looking over you like a worried, sobbing hen. 

The Medicine Seller still held the sword hilt in one hand, dripping water onto the hardwood as he tucked it into the waistband of his kimono. It chattered excitedly, eyes spinning in either direction as he raised the free hand to his face. Staring at the oily residue left behind, yellow pupils locked on the viscous fluid with something akin to satisfaction. You could practically feel the energy coursing through him, akin to the swirling water that had just filled the room as he turned the sword outward, facing where the oarfish had just vanished into the ceiling without a trace as the blustering wind started to die down, sending his hair waving about his face and remaining debris fluttering about the soaked room. 

“I have acquired its form…!” He hissed, clawed fingers curling slightly as the iridescent sheen reflected in the light of a toppled lantern, “ This ayakashi, before becoming a mononoke was— I kuchi …!” 

You felt it the moment energy came to a snapping point in the room, right to the sword in his palm. Its teeth snapped shut at the revelation, the sound echoing through every corridor of the hotel, proud and triumphant as you realized what he had meant earlier, and the weight of this revelation now. Just like your mother had before, a spirit had returned as something new, something warped and dangerous. The form it took on as it became a mononoke had relevance, importance to what the Medicine Seller was doing. Your mother had become an Ubume, a restless spirit that was said to have died either during childbirth or while pregnant, but that didn’t make sense at all—after you, she was told she was incapable of having any more children due to the damage done to her womb, so she didn’t die while carrying a child. But…maybe that was more symbolic to the effect your existence had, and how much she suffered growing you those nine long months. 

That’s what the Medicine Seller meant by the form your mother had taken. And just as she had warped into something unrecognizable, whoever this spirit was had taken the twisted shape of an Ikuchi, a serpent-like sea monster that usually inhabited the open seas. Again, you struggled to understand, but maybe that was due to how heavy your head felt. And how dizzy you were becoming.

I can’t throw up in front of this man.

Your attention swung back to them in the few seconds it took to form that thought, catching Mai’s incredulous voice on your right as she snapped at the Medicine Seller, “What are you talking about…?! Y/N is hurt, and you’re just—!”

“Mai…” You tried to meekly interject, but you were starting to list forward again, and both caught your momentum with a hand to your chest, respectively.

The Medicine Seller flickered his yellow eyes in her direction, and out of the corner of your eye you could see his lips tilted downward despite the makeup keeping that Cheshire smirk intact. There was a scratch on one of his cheeks, a fleck of red where a shard of wood or glass must have graced him, but not enough to truly bleed.

“To defeat the mononoke, I require its form, truth, and reason,” He replied to Mai, tone low and stern in a way that surprised even you. So used to hearing him laid back and bemused, not accustomed to this level of seriousness from the man despite how hard he fought to protect everyone from the creatures. “Without those things, it will continue to manifest in this world, until it is eventually unstoppable.”

Yeah, that didn’t bode well. And it was enough to shut up Mai, who quickly closed her mouth and looked like a frightened deer at the very notion, the situation all at once feeling a whole lot more dire. You could have laughed at the irony of it all, but instead started coughing, falling forward and fighting the urge to wretch as the two’s attention shifted back in an instant. Mai gasped, and you found yourself confused at what she was reacting too until the taste of something metallic settled on your tongue, and your blurry vision opened to see crimson splotches splattered underneath your face, bright and obvious even to your hazed eyes. Blood. Dripping down from your lips, coughed up from both lungs in a visceral, crimson display that splattered messily onto the wet rug under your body. With it came a searing pain in your chest that was almost enough to make you lose consciousness, body swaying in place in their hands as black splotches threatened at the edges of your vision. Just like the water from before, aching to take you deep, deep under the waves.

Had you been looking, you would have seen the Medicine Seller’s eyes widen, the most surprised he had felt in recent memory. It had been he who had asked you to take such a risk, not knowing how far it would push your body. Bruises were one thing, but things became dicey once it started doing internal damage, and despite your ability to heal quicker than average, this one had definitely hurt. And badly. You could feel it burning through your lungs like a wildfire, razing everything it touched and leaving you wheezing painfully through the ringing haze of dizziness. The foul, coppery taste of blood lingered on your tongue, still dripping onto the floor below in steady, tiny little droplets. It had been a long time since you had pushed yourself this hard, but then again, when had you last encountered a spirit that morphed into a Mononoke? All those years ago as a teen, your mother’s distorted eyes staring at you with a bizarre mixture of malice and despair, the foggy memories of that night.

Not a good time to be thinking about this. 

You felt arms wrap around your waist before Mai could vocalize the obvious horror on her face, your body lifting up from the floor in one fell swoop as the Medicine Seller hoisted you your body like a pitiful little ragdoll. A half coughed squeak of alarm left you at the motion, eyes purposely not looking up at his face due to how the room spun in protest. His kimono was very pretty, and if the last thing you did was avoid throwing up blood on it, that would be an acceptable victory. 

“Perhaps we should take this conversation to another room,” The Medicine Seller remarked, yellow eyes traveling around the carnage that had overtaken the lobby, “Efforts should be made to dispose of the body, wouldn’t you agree?”

His eyes darted to Michael as he spoke, addressing him directly as you realized with some horror that Daichi had not survived his encounter with the oarfish. In the time the Medicine Seller had grabbed you from being slammed into a wall, the cook had been covered with garbage and sludge. The debris in question was nowhere to be found, but Daichi’s mangled body lay still in its wake,  looking like it had been sucked dry of nutrients and leaving something akin to a mummy instead. You gagged at the sight, quickly looking away before the vision of his corpse could add more inspiration to your already churning stomach. It wasn’t your responsibility to handle, but gods above the guilt was making its home in your gut like his death rested on both shoulders. Had the Medicine Seller not stepped in to protect you, he could have saved Daichi instead, and that knowledge hung heavy enough to make your eyes squeeze shut to avoid tears. You didn’t know the cook well, but seeing his fear was a sobering experience to be sure, a vision that wouldn’t soon be forgotten. 

Michael could only nod slightly at the Medicine Seller’s request,  hurriedly barking orders at some of the diplomats that had arrived behind him at the commotion. They were paid no mind as the man carrying you strode past, flanked by Mai who was hurriedly trying to wipe blood from you and the Medicine Seller with a handkerchief. 

Despite his eyes not turning to Michael, the Medicine Seller spoke as you made your way around the group of men, words sure and firm in a way you envied. There was no being composed when your body hurt this badly.

”You will meet us in Lady Mai’s room,” He said, tone low but perfectly audible by the look on Michael’s face, “There is much to discuss if we are to discover the mononoke’s truth and reason.” 

It left no space for argument, probably in a way the hotel owner wasn’t accustomed to. He stiffened like a statue, mouth a firm line of displeasure as your trio breezed by, paying him little mind. Even Mai didn’t look at Michael, her eyes steely despite the tears forming at the corners of her lashes. You knew the struggles she faced with her father, the battle to maintain relationship boundaries without letting his obvious demeanor overpower her wishes. Michael was protective, but controlling, eager to keep her safe within the confines of a birdcage he created as if she was a pet to be kept and looked at. This marriage arrangement was most likely another attempt to keep her on a short leash, and trapped with a man of his choosing whilst securing more money making opportunities for the hotel. Marriage to a rich white man was good business for him, as that family money would make for good donations to Michael and his endeavors, leaving Mai to simply deal with whatever this man’s temperament was. A shame, one you were determined to not let pass.

But that was on the bottom of a long list of problems to deal with. You were still, unfortunately, in the arms of the Medicine Seller. Head spinning, lungs burning, stomach on the verge of spilling its contents all over a very attractive man. Hell, at this point you would almost prefer passing out by comparison, if only to avoid the embarrassment burning in your ears at being carried upstairs to Mai’s room like a child. The last person to carry you was your mother, a fact that wasn’t lost as the black spots kept tap-dancing on the edges of your vision.

”She needs water and rest…!” Mai worriedly started telling the Medicine Seller, fussing needlessly at your front as she opened the door to her room with one hand, “You can make actual medicine, right? Not just snake oil nonsense—“

You swear he rolled his eyes at her words. Subtly, of course, but enough for you to catch it even through the haze of your vision. A hysterical laugh threatened to bubble forth, but the ache of your lungs acted as a nice little barrier preventing sounds like that from reaching your lips. Maybe another time you would reflect on this instance and feel absolutely mortified at the fact that your head was resting on the Medicine Seller’s chest, hearing his heartbeat like a steady thrum under one ear. It was so soothing that there was no real room for the embarrassment to take root, especially not when your body was hurting so much.

“Snake oil is not one of the wares I sell,” The man in question was pleasantly responding to Mai as you drifted between thoughts, his voice a rumble against your face. He sounded a bit irritated, you could tell despite the almost silken way he addressed your friend. “I will prepare a tonic. In the meantime, you should consider getting her out of these wet clothes.”

It was strange, the first time the oarfish attacked the water had vanished when they departed. What was different this time? Maybe it was Daichi’s death that made the oarfish stronger, allowing its manifestation to become realized in a way that lingered like real, conscious liquid that stuck to one’s clothing. You didn’t know if that was actually the case, but it hardly mattered. Your eyes were squeezed shut, lips a hard line that spoke of the barely contained nausea swirling in your gut. The Medicine Seller had the decency to lay you down gently on the floor, his kimono brushing your still, stiff form like a wisping caress before he pulled back and turned away. Giving you some privacy as Mai swooped down to help you sit up, feeling rather pathetic that all this aid was necessarily in the first place. Maybe you had become rusty in the time between jobs? This wasn’t a common occurrence, of that you could insist until your voice was raw and raspy. The thought alone was enough to make you groan, feeling rather mopey and irritated in wet clothes, hurting like a cart had hit you at full speed and blood still leaving a rather nasty taste on your tongue. 

“You could leave the room,  you know,” Mai commented rather rudely as she started helping you strip off the sopping wet clothing clinging to your skin, her eyes shooting daggers at the Medicine Seller’s back, “It’s rude to stay in a room while a lady is undressing, scoundrel.”

“Be nice, Mai.” You managed to mumble in some protest, wincing when the cold air met damp skin, sending goose bumps up your arms and chest. 

The Medicine Seller continued to sit politely with his back turned, making no sound of reply to Mai’s obvious irritation. She could only scowl at his lack of response, stomping to her dresser and ripping out clothes with such a fervor it was a miracle nothing ripped or tore from each vicious yank. You were more than happy to oblige as she helped you up from the floor, embarrassingly bare and eyes locked on the only man in the room to make sure he didn’t turn around. At this point he was kneeling down by his strange, wooden box, rummaging through the drawers and pulling out different herbs and mystery objects that your mind didn’t recognize. This was most certainly not the moment you wanted to be seen naked by him—not that you wanted to anyway. Where did that thought come from again?

“Careful, careful—” Mai fretted as you started tugging on clothes, trying to rub a cloth against your wet hair at the same time. “You should sit down, we need to—”

“I’ll be fine, Mai.” You managed to grind out, tone exhausted and head feeling like it was about to roll off your shoulders. The clothes were a blessing and a curse, warm and dry, but hard to maneuver into while this tired. “I just…need to lay down for a little…then I’ll be fine.”

Mai’s eyes flashed with irritation at your half slurred response, but her hands were ever so careful as you were guided down to her bed, towel still draped onto your hair, “Like hell!” She snapped, tone so fierce despite how tears clouded her vision. “You could have died back there, you know that right?!”

Her head whipped around to glare at the Medicine Seller, tone still bitingly harsh as she continued on rather loudly, “She could have died…! You barely know her, but are more than happy putting her in danger like that…?!”

Oh, Mai was in war mode. That snippy tone was extra grating when your head was pounding so fiercely, eyes squeezing shut as if shutting out your vision would be enough to make the noise less painful. Not exactly the case, but it made you feel better to not see her angry expression on top of everything else. It was like watching a cat puff up from ears to tail, her pale grey eyes ablaze with equal parts annoyance and worry as she kept looking between you and the Medicine Seller, hard at work where he knelt on the floor grinding ingredients for your tonic. You had never seen a man so calm in the face of feminine rage, his expression unchanging and hands ever steady in their task, although ignoring Mai would only make her more unruly if he wasn’t careful. There was no more room left in your head to worry about that, however, as it was crammed to bursting with all the information that had been gathered during the little incident with the oarfish. You could still see the visage of a cabin in the woods, dingy and broken down, accompanied by that gaping maw in the Earth, edges jagged and craggily as it disappeared down into the dark. Remembering it was enough to make your hands shake against your will, the bruises even darker and more jagged than before.

You started fading out again, lost in the thoughts and trying to ignore Mai’s ranting at the Medicine Seller. It wasn’t until a hand slid underneath your head that you jolted back for a moment, eyes struggling to flicker open and see who was lifting your cranium a bit. The Medicine Seller loomed overhead, eyes serious and stoic as you were elevated enough to sip from a small bowl held carefully in one hand. Ever careful not to spill the strange, bitter liquid, his other hand perfectly cupping the back of your skull through the damp mess of your hair. You didn’t have the heart to protest in that moment, nor lament the foul tasting medicine as it slid down your throat. Just content to be this close, smelling the soft, dreamy scent of his kimono, eyes lingering on how his lips pursed slightly with concentration. Damn, but he was pretty. Especially when within inches of your face, his eyes locked on the task at hand and pale-colored hair draping down around those elf-ish ears. 

I must be dying, and this is pre-death hysteria. 

“Good girl,” He murmured when the last drop of liquid slid from the bowl, his form leaning away once more and straightening into his usual posture. “She will have to sleep most of that off. I added some sedatives to ease the pain, so she can rest without issue.”

Ah. That would explain why you were feeling even more drowsy. Your body was starting to feel both heavy and light at the same time, floating in the sea of exhaustion and dulling pain with shameless relief. Not that sedatives were your favorite thing, but in this instance you would take the meds without complaint, especially with how they were easing the burning sensation in your lungs. The Medicine Seller’s mystery powder would be suspicious to anyone else, but you were quite content in letting it run its course, eyes closed more gently now and form going slack into Mai’s bedsheets. Honestly, the bitter medicine was preferred to the taste of blood, and you were starting to enjoy the tingling in each finger replacing the burning ache that came with deep bruising. 

Mai was, obviously, mad on your behalf. You heard her sigh, although the sound was incredibly far away now as the sedatives started really kicking in, “You should have asked before doing that…! But…”

Her room to argue was scarce, and you took that as a blessing. The poor Medicine Seller would already get an earful in your absence, and whatever limited it was going to be incredibly necessary. 

He was sounding equally fuzzy to your ears, as much as they strained to hear whatever response was coming Mai’s way, “Perhaps. But she will need rest for what is to come, and we will need whatever information she gathered.”

Gods damn it, you hadn’t managed to tell him anything even after all that nonsense. You could have groaned in annoyance at such a realization, but your tongue was rather heavy at that point. 

“Whatever. And while I’m at it, you’re dripping all over my floor—you need to take off that wet kimono.” Mai sounded rather haughty, didn’t she? Just like her father, unaccustomed to people not listening to her authority. But her request did get your attention, just a few seconds of consciousness perking up your ears. 

“...Unfortunately, I—”

Damn it, you were losing track of the conversation. Darkness was creeping in from all sides now, and all you could do was let yourself sink into it, their voices fading into the nothingness and all thoughts slipping away with them.

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[spirit-of-the-void]

Mononoke Fic: The Saturated Iris

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Chapter Six, Act 1 Part Six: Bare Bones

Mai was hard at work when you pushed open the sliding paper door to the love birds sitting room, scrolls and papers scattered around her along with five or more books. She barely cast a glance upwards as you walked in, face scrunched slightly with concentration and bangs held back with a flowery hair clip. Part of you wanted to laugh at the sight of her, yukata tied back and toes grasping one another in that way she always did when reading. It was such a familiar sight that it almost pushed away the overwhelming dread of the looming darkness, still singing its mournful little song and grinding somewhere on the back of your brain. Almost, but not quite. But you took that little blessing for what it was, a grin on your face and eyes brighter than they had been in hours as you strolled over to join her on the tatami mats. The Medicine Seller was, of course, shadowing your steps. He made sure to smile in polite greetings to your friend, who still kept shooting glances at you both, before sitting down in a corner to observe.

Too cool to sit with the rest of the kids, it would seem. You rolled your eyes, deciding to instead focus on all the paperwork as you knelt down to start picking a couple up in your hands.

”Any luck?” You inquired, wincing at the mess of jargon and official paperwork, feeling like a fish out of water where all of this was considered. Part of the reason for traveling and not setting down roots was to avoid this kind of busywork, truly. 

Mai grunted, balancing a book on one leg and scribbling notes on paper propped on the other, “You’re lucky my dad is too busy putting out fires to notice me taking his files, I will say that. But yes, I did find a few things, although I don’t know if they will help at all.”

She started slapping down pieces of paper in front of you, some scribbled in her own messy handwriting. You tried to take in some of the information listed, but found yourself wincing instead at the contact your hands held on the floor. Gods, it was so loud in the hotel. Even the papers themselves had their own song, loud in some places and simplistic in others. Grazing one had tense notes of mourning, despair, and loneliness—another was cold, steely with the ever present, familiar strings of determination, stubbornness and authority. You tried not to let yourself sink too deeply into them, remember what it was like to fall endlessly into objects before when not being cautious. Too much, and things would linger within for a long, long time, things that did not belong to your body.

A muscle ticked below your left eye, one hand absentmindedly rubbing it as your eyes scanned over a particular bit of paperwork, “Your dad bought this land from the governor from what I can tell, that seems pretty standard.”

Mai let out a soft huff, leaning back against the wall and tapping her nails on the book she still held, “It was originally owned by the Inoue family for about sixty years, but they seemed to have no issues. Pottery makers. But!”

She dove to grab another stack of much older looking papers, flipping through them as she continued on, “There were technically owners before the Inoue family, but that was ages ago, so it was like…super unofficial, before the town was really under government control.”

That made sense. A hundred years back any number of people could just settle in a spot with no real ownership or paperwork to claim it, especially in what used to be a small fishing village like this one. It was only in recent times with the industrial boom that land ownership was being organized, and a governor had taken up a spot in the town along with a board of representatives to manage shops, village upkeep, and distribution of town funds. You had to wonder how long ago these particular people were spending their time, and how they lived on the land in comparison to how it was being inhabited now. But the Inoue family had inhabited it for such a substantial amount of time, so perhaps the issue stemmed from their family? The paperwork itself, however, gave no indication of family tragedy, their home was small and modest, and the only reason they didn’t still own the land was due to the most recent generation of kids wanting to move the elderly out of the city into more manageable conditions. Mountain living wasn’t feasible for older people, it would seem—it left them rather isolated.

 Something was tickling on the edge of your senses, soft yet difficult to ignore. Your vision kept catching on the older paperwork, mentions of when the previous landowner was found dead in his cabin at the mountain top, and the demolition that led to building the Inoue family home. No family documentation, no noteworthy descriptions from townsfolk, just a death certificate and the purchasing papers from one Tanaka Inoue, head of the family taking ownership of the land. 

“I…don’t think all of this is caused by the Inoue family,” Your mouth moved with little thought, eyes still rereading over the descriptions of one tiny, ramshackle hut in the woods. “Something feels off about the owners before that.”

Mai nodded vigorously, slapping her hand down on a stack of papers as she replied, “Right? It’s so weird that there aren’t any records on that particular inhabitant aside from his death. At least…that’s all papa had on file.”

That made sense. You doubted Michael cared much for the land’s history aside from any obstacles or hazards they would have to keep in mind. He had more on possible landslides, felled trees, and lightning strikes than anything else. All the rest aside from that were official papers about purchasing the land, payment, benefactors—

Hold on. You picked up that particular scroll, frowning as your eyes scanned over it, seeing a familiar name or two. A lot of money went into making this vision a reality, and the top donors to Michael’s hotel building fund included one Lucas Faroe, Daniel Cline, Avery Grant, Alexander Briar, and Ana Cane. You were surprised the donation was in Lady Ana’s name, and couldn’t help but wonder if all the money in their relationship came from her family. Regardless, you started going over things in your head, trying to make sense of everyone who was still in the hotel and why they could possibly be involved in the situation.

Five people were here because of donations made to the hotel, and for Mai to take her pick of husbands. Lady Ana and her husband had a son, so it made sense as to why they were here. You would have to later question why the son was absent, but that hardly mattered. Another involved party was Mr. Sato, who was keeping himself holed up in his room at the moment and refusing to come out. You saw his name on the paperwork as well, making note that he was the Forman involved with all the hotel construction. It was he and his people that helped with the hotel layout itself, safety measures, and making sure the ground work kept the hotel from sliding down the mountain.

Aside from him was the cook, a person you still hadn’t seen since the initial conflict in the lobby—a man simply dubbed Daichi. He had refused cooking entirely since then, and last you heard he was in a sitting room drinking his weight in sake and proclaiming the end of days. He wasn’t exactly on any of this paperwork aside from payroll, so you paid him little mind at the moment aside from remarks he had made to Michael and Lady Tomoko about being right about prior claims. It was worth questioning him on when they had time, and preferably when the man was sober. 

That was seven accounted for, which left Mai, her two parents, and you. The Medicine Seller didn’t feel like he belonged in the equation at all, and that was an instinct you were willing to listen to at the moment, keeping him excluded as an outside observer for now. 

“Eleven people in total, all involved with the hotel or your family,” You murmured, tapping a finger on your thigh and settling into a cross-cross sitting position, “That does remind me—are we going to talk about the whole arranged marriage thing?”

Mai made a rather stinky face at that, lips a droll frown as she replied rather tiredly, “That depends. Does it feel like the ghosts are mad about my supposed marriage?”

That was definitely a firm no. You were wracking your brain back to when the first incident had occurred, and the oarfish had come writhing out of the ceiling. It was easier for you to discern what upset the spirit simply by the energy and sound filling the room, and how violently it had spiked at any given moment. Now that the conflict was said and done, it was as simple as trying to look back and figure out some sort of correlation, memory searching into the vast mess and picking out when the tone had changed, the sound expanding into a cacophony of enraged screaming. It had been when Lucas was going off on Michael, obviously, but there was something that had particularly stuck while he was on that tirade, something you were still thinking about despite it being hours later.

Selfish little brat.

 Those three little words, accompanied by a guttural wail no one else could hear. At the time, the room was filled with so much noise it was difficult to pick it out from the chorus, but things clicked in your head as you stared at the sea of papers, desperately trying to pick what felt particularly significant. Anger, hatred, hunger. So much hunger, enough to bring the world to its knees in mourning, begging for a single scrap of bread to whet the raw, unbearable ache. Even now you could feel the sensation ghosting along your own stomach, sending a wince across your lips and one hand rubbing the spot as if it could soothe a non-existent ache.  Breakfast wasn’t sitting quite right anymore, and part of you wished to simply go back to bed, to try and ignore the growing discomfort as a whole—not an option, not while the hotel was like this. 

“It feels like papers are missing,” You whispered eyes darting between the sheets on the building’s construction, the Inoue family, everything. “Something significant, something your father didn’t mention, but I get the feeling he knew about it.”

You saw the Medicine Seller lean forward at that, looking rather intrigued as his gaze passed over the piles of paper in the room.  Mai frowned, shooting him a rather annoyed glance for a brief second before returning her attention to you.

“Father always hides things,” She huffed, tone taking on a rather irritated edge as she scratched a nail to the side of her head. “I do remember the head of the pottery family mentioning something, but Father wrote it off as superstitious nonsense, and it hasn’t been brought up since.”

Now that caught your interest. Superstition was a good basis for upset spirits, especially if there was a shrine or ritual that was neglected since building and opening the hotel. You wouldn’t be surprised if the previous family had some sort of religious beliefs that Michael had scoffed at and passed up on, due to the feelings instilled by his own religion. The very thought made you sigh, one hand rubbing the side of your head to try and will the growing headache to subside, at least until all of this was figured out. There were so many elements to this now that it was starting to become difficult to keep track. The benefactors, the cook, the foreman, Mai, her parents, and you. Then the shape of the spirit itself, a deep sea fish whose appearance was considered a very bad omen, its body warped by rage and turned into something monstrous and ravenous. Had you not stepped in, it would have swallowed Mai whole, sharp teeth digging into her pliant flesh and her body crumpling like a snapped branch. So where did that leave you, all of you? 

Oarfish, money, construction, the hotel. You resisted the urge to grind your teeth, sitting back on your behind with a huff instead and staring up at the ceiling beams above. You missed when this was supposed to be a simple cleansing, a purification. Too bad it had snowballed now into whatever the hell a mononoke was, and the Medicine Seller had become an entirely unexpected curve ball that was still sitting right in the middle of everything with no explanation. 

“Perhaps we should start with your father, then,” The curve ball in question finally spoke up, sounding like the conversation was just a pleasant one about the weather as you and Mai turned to stare at him. “Since he seems to be the one holding all the information that is excluded from these files.”

Oh, you just knew the smug little way he spoke ground right on one of Mai’s nerves, her somewhat irritated expression only confirming it as she frowned and started cleaning up all the files. 

You almost laughed, but managed to hide your snickers behind one sleeve. You rose with minimal bodily protest despite the bruising, voice shockingly level as you said, “Alright, that sounds reasonable. Mai, can you have your father meet us in the lobby?” 

Plenty of places to sit out there, and as of right now everyone was avoiding it due to the terrorizing idea that the water might rise right through the front doors. It definitely didn’t help that the belongings of all the missing workers still lay in their respective positions on the floor, the entire room frozen in a time where laughing voices would have been raised to chat over the rain, and sake flowed freely into chipped glasses to keep bodies warm and spirits light. You didn’t blame the others for being shaken by the ominous sight of abandoned shoes and bedrolls, it was certainly sobering to witness. But it was an ample space to sit and talk to Michael, one you intended to take advantage of if something else terrible were to happen—the kitchen was comfortable for sitting, but narrow, and you knew Lady Ana would still most likely be hanging around there to feel safe with the men. Too easy to be cornered in such a space, whereas the lobby had room to play, so to speak. 

Mai seemed annoyed that the Medicine Seller had stood as well, rising on his geta sandals flawlessly with that wooden box already on his back. She released a long-suffering sigh, balancing a stack of books and scrolls on her hip but making no obvious complaints aside from a rather exasperated glance in your direction. 

What did she want you to do? He was going to follow you around no matter what, and besides—he would be useful in the event of another attack.

“I can do that,” Your friend replied, although it held the edge of a retort as she stomped past you both toward the door, “Though I can warn you, he’s not the listening type.”

Oh, of that you had no doubt. It was one of the things your mother loathed about him, as was disclosed in many a sake-fueled rant to Lady Tomoko. Thin walls and raised voices made quite a combination in the manor, and you were willing to bet based on his behavior alone that there were a few nights those complaints reached him in his office and sitting room. Michael spent many mornings skulking about the estate like a dog with its tail between its legs, sulky and irritated by an obvious slight on his honor and reputation. If his wife agreed with your mother, there was never any indication, as her responses were always so neutral, practiced, calming. Perhaps that made him even angrier, knowing that she always kept her feelings hidden and there was no way of truly understanding her opinions?

Not my business anymore.

You shook your head as if the thoughts would come tumbling out of your ears, left to roll somewhere far away where they no longer made themselves known. Not possible, but it was worth a try. Instead of dwelling upon it, you turned to look at the Medicine Seller as Mai slipped out the door, shutting it behind her with one firm snap. The notion of bringing all this up to her father, especially with the strange man lugging around a wooden box involved? She had to be dreading it with a mighty passion, especially knowing exactly how uncomfortable your presence alone was for Michael. You couldn’t imagine how she managed to convince him to let you be here in the first place, especially for such the reasoning of exotic dancing to keep the men happy. You found it a bit ironic now to think that those men you were supposed to be entertaining were Mai’s pick of husbands, and she brought you here damn well knowing that. Her father must have been whiter than a sheet, and whatever magic she used to convince him would need to be studied in the future.

“She doesn’t seem to like you very much,” You rather nonchalantly informed the Medicine Seller, picking at a thread on the fabric of your sleeve and trying not to sigh. “I am sorry about that, she’s a bit of a mother hen where I’m concerned.” 

To be entirely honest, he seemed rather unbothered by this fact. Those pretty little lips remained poised in that Cheshire smile, eye-lids slightly lowered in a rather bemused expression as his yellow irises turned to yours before his head did.

“I may have that effect at times,” He remarked, tone matter-of-fact and composed. “She did call me a scoundrel a few times under her breath while you were sleeping, along with some less choice words.”

The Medicine Seller sounded like he was trying not to laugh, like all of this was simply in good fun. You resisted the urge to pinch one of his colorful little cheeks, instead opting to tug on the sleeve of his kimono and drag him towards the door knowing full well he would have all the time in the world to find amusement from the situation on the way to the lobby. His eyes followed the motion like a dog tracking prey, expression still slightly delighted and somewhat perplexed even as he followed obediently, geta sandals clacking on the hallway floor. You didn’t miss just how many of his scales lined the hotel rooms and connecting passageways, little statues sitting unmoving yet diligent in their observance as you walked by. Each one bowed lightly as you passed, their bells dangling silently despite the obvious movement and tucked carefully out of the way. So, so many. You were tempted to count them, but decided doing so was an act of futility. 

You paid them no mind in whatever task they were engaged in, taking a step back so the Medicine Seller was at your side. His eyes slipped forward to watch the hall as you made your way in the direction of the lobby, mouth silently curved into that smug little smile. His sword was now silent at his hip, but you still caught the faintest of movement twitching out of the corner of your eye, the shifting of its mouth from under the ofuda. 

“Now might be a good time to ask what your motives are in all of this,” You spoke matter-of-factly, tone purposely low as you passed the now empty rooms of the hotel. “You mentioned the mononoke, yes, but what does that have to do with you?”

You saw his yellow eyes shift in the dark, tilting toward you and half illuminated by dim lantern light. But his head remained forward as he replied in a rather ominous tone, “I am inclined to ask the same of you. I have never met a human yet that could interact with a spirit the way you did, Y/N.”

Ah. Answering a question with a question, and bringing up that oh so controversial topic you were hoping to avoid. Instinctively you winced at his inquiry, one hand plucking at a loose string on the sleeve of your outfit as if it would somehow transform into a rope that would allow a convenient escape. No such luck. The bruises on your hands only served as a reminder of that incident as well, even being so hidden in the dim lighting of the lantern held in one free grasp. What on Earth were you supposed to say to that, knowing as little as you did on the matter? Your mother wasn’t exactly the honest or enlightening type in her time spent on this mortal coil, so she didn’t shed any light on the topic other than commenting on how she lived with a bunch of priestess’ once upon a time. And maybe that had made you more inclined to spirituality, but that never sounded like the full truth. Not once. 

The Medicine Seller’s eyes weighed heavily on you as you thought of how to answer, causing your stomach to knot rather uncomfortably in anxiety. Why was this so nerve wracking? It wasn’t like there was much stake in being honest, nor did the Medicine Seller seem the type to be revulsed or angry about it. If you were being fair, did he really have space to pass judgement on anyone looking and acting how he did? Not really.

“It’s…complicated,” The start of your explanation felt flat, a sigh following those words as if they had come trickling out like a hesitant stream. “I really wish I had a better answer for you, but…I don’t know. It certainly wasn’t like that when I was young, the whole being able to…control them, hurt them.”

The quiet of the hallway felt so pronounced, so heavy despite the rain’s constant clamoring above, and the dull hum of thunder in the distance. The Medicine Seller’s eyes returned forward at your words, and you could see his brow furrow a bit as he raised an arm to move a beaded curtain out of your way for passing.

“How was it before?” He asked, tone low and audible enough just for you. 

So composed, so measured. Like you were a frightened deer he was trying not to scare away. Composed in a way you envied, just a little bit, considering the circumstances surrounding you both. Most people wouldn’t have asked, most people when they heard or saw what you could do acted with fear or disbelief, aside from Mai, who had been in the thick of it since you were both children. 

You nervously rubbed a hand down your arm, causing the lantern to slightly sway and send the flickering lights dancing along the patterned walls, “When I was little, I could feel things. Emotions, energy, sound. My mom said I used to sing to little spirits hiding in the corners of the house, and in turn those areas felt lighter to walk in.”

You sighed at the thought, remembering humming along with the music that came from the floors, the walls. The familiarity of your mother’s energy as it plucked like viola strings in your ears. 

“I guess I was doing purifications at the time. Comforting things that needed comforting,” Your eyes flickered up to gauge his expression, feeling surprisingly nervous at the neutral look he wore. “Until I became a teenager, and mom…died.”

Even saying it aloud made your chest ache in a way that felt profoundly heavy, the hallway bending and warping slightly when your head gained a faint hint of dizziness. To this day, you still struggled to rationalize what was going on with your mom in those final months, as she deteriorated mentally and eventually…well. Even that never felt right. She had initially been found on the wooded path to the manor, laying on her side and eyes dull, glassy. No sign of head trauma, no sign of strangling, stabbing, suffocation. Just a basket of vegetables scattered over the earthen floor, and her crumpled body stationed directly in the path middle with her hair strewn about her head like a messed up version of a halo. You, luckily, had not seen it—just heard the tale reiterated so many times, over and over like a dancing puppet across your head. People assumed she had an underlying health issue and left it at that, but you never did understand why her life ended that way.

And then…she came back. As something else.

“After mom died, something wrong began to form in the manor,” You continued in a low murmur, footfalls silent on the wooden floor and eyes cast downward. “I’m fuzzy on the details now, that whole time feels like a strange dream when I look back on it. I remember everyone being afraid, I remember maids claiming that Ubume had manifested on the manor grounds.”

From there, things get even hazier. The night of that final incident was a blur of blood and madness, the first time your power had manifested in such a volatile way. Even trying to recall it made pain rip across your brow line, eyes squeezing shut and one hand practically slapping to that spot in the hopes of rubbing the pain away. 

You haunted my womb like a ghost. 

How could you?

How could you do this to me?

“...Are you alright?” 

The Medicine Seller’s somewhat muffled voice snapped you back to reality. You flinched slightly as sound returned, loud and overwhelming considering all the different energies that sought to be the maestro of your senses. It was enough to make you groan audibly, feeling like a rung out rag and wishing for nothing more than to step outside and lay on the cool, hard Earth for some attempt at grounding back in reality. No chance of that with the ocean still churning at the doorstep, but you could dream of better possibilities, even if they remained unrealistic.

You managed to look up at the Medicine Seller again, seeing now that his gaze had returned to you in the dim lighting, eyelids having lowered and lips tilted in a frown that was hard to see with the upturned purple lip line. 

You shook your head once to shake the sensation of lingering dread, rubbing a hand down the back of your neck, “Y-yeah, I’m fine. It’s just…hard to remember everything that happened. I don’t recall the details but…”

A lump appeared in your throat, one that was hard to swallow. Images of that night surfaced like oil on murky water, twisting and coiling as the liquid sloshed and rolled within you. Bile, cold and unwelcome. Flashing past your mind as they rolled down the stream, brief recollection that slipped between your fingers as quickly as sand. As if remembering would be too much, looking at them as one would look at the sun to avoid losing their vision. 

“My mom…she became something awful,” Your voice came out in a whisper despite your best efforts, voice tiny as if speaking it aloud would summon that awful night back to your feet. “She became something awful, and I…did something awful to stop her. That power allowed me to…subdue her, break her down, and…”

And then? Then things became blurry. 

You remembered someone unfamiliar stepping in and ending things, but that memory itself was even hazier than the others. The night had ended with your mother gone, you staring at your blackened fingers through a haze of tears, Mai trying to comfort you as you screamed until feeling raw in the throat. And the stranger who slayed the Ubume disappearing into the night as if they had never been there at all. All you could recall was long hair down to their feet, braided with beads and feathers, and a kimono long enough that it trailed after them like a cloak. Since then, the memory had only gotten even more difficult to recall, and what prevailed were the unwelcome images of your mother’s twisted face, warped as an Ubume and filled with a hatred you struggled to comprehend. The feeling of her soul in your hands, bleeding and twitching as your fingers squeezed it, her resounding wail of pain as nails dug into something neither flesh nor bone, pliable—

You had dropped the lantern without realizing, hands going numb as panic welled up from the grief still living in your chest. The Medicine Seller’s hand shot out to catch it, forcing you both to stop in place as his stare flickered to your face, catching it frozen in that relieved moment of horror and realizing what was happening. You could barely see him, eyes blinking rapidly for a few seconds as you sought control, trying to hold back tears and whatever else was buzzing around your head like a swarm of bees. It always felt fuzzy when this feeling came back, static like the sensation of an arm falling asleep underneath you. Maybe the stress of the environment and the energy swirling around your ears was too close to what it felt like that day, compounding what you thought was already handled and transforming the sloshing tide into a wave crashing over you. 

The Medicine Seller straightened his spine, still holding your discarded lamp as the light within flickered and swayed. It was strange—men usually grew uncomfortable in the face of obvious distress in a woman, moving away or making some false attempt at comfort that only made the situation worse. It didn’t help that each person had their own issues that required different forms of soothing to help, what aided one would certainly not aid another. To be entirely honest, you never knew what was needed in times like this. Mai always handled it in different ways, ranging from becoming overly doting and panicking along with you, as she also endured that night to some capacity. She didn’t like talking about it, and you appreciated that wholeheartedly. 

But the Medicine Seller did not shy away, did not sigh in exasperation like some often would, nor did he appear alarmed or worried by your obvious distress. His head tilted simply as if he was trying to comprehend something, yellow eyes still locked on your face as his wavy hair fell forward slightly, masking them in shadow. 

“I find that humans often carry the burden of grief far longer than they should,” His voice came low and composed, practically dragging your attention back over the white noise surrounding it. You stared at him in confusion, struggling slightly to comprehend as he turned to stare down the hallway. “ Y/N …surely by now you must have realized by now what happened to your mother— the form she assumed after death .” 

The form she assumed after death? You opened your mouth and closed it once, struggling to drag air in for a brief moment as if it had turned into sludge. Thoughts raced to when the oarfish dragged out of the ceiling the previous night, someone’s soul obviously taking that shape and morphing into something wretched, something far from what they were as a human. Still carrying the grief and pain that burdened it in life, so profoundly that in death it became something monstrous, distorted by pain and intending to reflect that pain back onto others. You didn’t know completely what haunted your mother, what slowly ate her away inside until she became a stranger, something cruel and unfamiliar even to you, her child. The memories of her kind smile had become so distant, the way she rocked you to sleep and sang those little songs with you while going about morning tasks. Pain changed her, and you never really understood what your ability showed you the day her monstrous form was slain.

Your lips felt cold, moving with the realization that clicked through the haze of panic, “Is…is that what a mononoke is? The spirit of what was once a living thing, turning into a monster?”

You could hear the Medicine Seller rummaging in his wooden box, not even realizing he had turned away until a drawer slid open quietly in the dark. He set the lantern atop it briefly while he searched, only to straighten and press something cool and smooth to your lips. You jolted at the sensation, feeling as if he had doused you in cold water and realizing that your heart was pounding hard enough in your chest to cause roaring in your ears. When had it last been this bad? This feeling, the ache, the razor-like talons digging into your chest. You froze in it again, struggling to comprehend what he was doing and what he had pressed against your mouth.

“Open.” He requested simply, your mouth shockingly complying and letting whatever the little ball was rest upon your tongue. Candy, you realized–orange, or lemon? It was citrus in flavor, incredibly tart and sour. You found yourself immediately wincing at the taste, confusion doubling and mind just barely managing to register the ghost of his fingers wisping across your lips to get the confection inside. That was a feeling you would have to unpack much, much later, thank you very much. 

You were gearing up to question why the hell he had done that in the first place, when you realized that the haze of panic was fading. Your heart began to slow, and the fuzz scattering your thoughts began to lessen with each passing, easier breath. You blinked, feeling oddly like a child who had just been given candy to calm them down, confusion taking the place of the panic from earlier like a blanket blocking out the memories from the past. The Medicine Seller seemed unfazed by your confused stare in his direction, merely smiling pleasantly as he reached down to close his little drawer of what looked to be more candy and various other little treats. So he did keep food on him—did the Medicine Seller have a sweet tooth? You were tempted to ask, but the sudden loss of panic and the replacement of bewilderment in your chest were leaving a lot of thoughts unspoken, despite your best efforts.

“I…” You managed to get out after a brief pause of silence, starting to feel a bit embarrassed by your obvious distress earlier. “How—how did you…?”

The Medicine Seller let out a low hum in his throat, one that sent warmth trickling from your stomach down to your legs. Like stepping into a warm bath. 

“I am always fascinated by how complex the nature of humanity is,” He murmured softly, as if not hearing your question at all. You watched the same finger tips that touched your lips delicately trace the top of his box, almost lovingly. “You, little Priestess, carry many complex things within, more than even I have come to understand.” 

He sounded almost delighted by that fact, tilting his head back and letting out a soft inhalation of breath as those pretty eyes drifted shut. Your heartbeat ticked up  a couple notches at the sight, the last of the candy fading out as it dissolved on your tongue and made its way down your throat. Tart and sweet, touched by his hands.

Stop thinking like that. 

You mentally scolded yourself for thinking like a depraved idiot, letting out a shuddering breath and trying to compose yourself after what equated to a very obvious display of emotion. He didn’t seem the type to judge, but that wasn’t stopping the knife of shame from twisting in your gut, adding in a few choice feelings on top of the ones that were starting to fade away. Exhaustion, regret, fear, nervousness. People were such complex creatures, and ones like the Medicine Seller were even harder to get a feel for considering how bizarre he was overall, and the struggle to understand what went on in that painted noggin of his. 

“I feel like that’s rich coming from you,” Your voice came out in a dubious mutter, eyes flickering away from him in annoyance and arms folding across your chest. “You act like you’re not the most frustratingly vague and unexplainable person anyone has ever met. Then you scoff when I call you things like Kitsune.”

The Medicine Seller looked rather good-natured, all things considered. Unperturbed by your obvious annoyance, tilting his head with that familiar little smirk and eyes opening to meet yours from the side, “Perhaps we both have discoveries of our own to make about each other’s nature, do we not?”

The way he said it, so silky and full of promise. What exactly that implication was you were struggling to discern, especially considering his remark earlier about your complexities still hung like a question mark above your head. You frowned, prepared to sling back another remark of similar caliber to the last, but were quickly interrupted by a new sound entering the humming fray of music still rumbling behind your ears.

Bells.

You and the Medicine Seller froze at the sound of quiet jingling in the distance, moving ever close with each scale that tipped. Down, down, down the hallway, passing you as the little objects tilted towards the main lobby, the sound continuing onward well beyond where it could be heard. Then, you felt it—energy, electricity, the smell of sea water swirling up to your nostrils, hands tingling with heat as your senses screamed out in warning. Something was manifesting, you could almost taste it on your tongue, heavy and thick like weight increasing on your very form. You jolted in place briefly, instinctively bracing a hand on the wall to get a feel for its sound. That deep, bass rumble, accompanied by the hollow wailing that sounded like the wind howling through a wind tunnel, enough to make your teeth grit on instinct and eyes squeeze shut like it was about to blow you away with it. Even worse still was how it wretched those conjured abilities up from your very core, searing your chest cavity like red-hot brands from within. 

The Medicine Seller sucked in a breath at your side, eyes widening in what you had come to recognize as excitement the instant those bells continued past the hallway. You had barely managed to touch the wall beside you before he grabbed the sleeve of your clothing, yanking you fast and hard with him as he started running for the lobby, sandals loudly clacking the whole way. You immediately gasped, startled by the sudden momentum and stumbling slightly before finding your footing again, struggling to sprint at a pace that matched his and feeling wholly dragged by his eager pace as he flawlessly darted to the next hallway, then the next, leaving handfuls of ofuda perfectly spaced on the walls as he went. 

“ I’ve got it!” He hissed, tone coming out like an excitable javelin, eyes locked forward on a target you couldn’t yet perceive. “ The lobby, it’s manifesting!”

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Sorry for the late upload, was on vacation living it up in the back mountains of Pennsylvania lmao

[spirit-of-the-void]

Sorry for no upload today—just got back from vacation.

Next chapter tomorrow 💕

[spirit-of-the-void]

Mononoke Fic: The Saturated Iris

Read on AO3: HERE

Chapter 5: Act 1, Part Five: Bruised Palms

Morning never came.

You knew even before opening your eyes despite being unconscious for an indiscernible number of hours, that the energy that usually came with the rising sun was entirely absent. It did not filter through the clouds above in that hazy, grey color that accompanied cloud cover, nor did it creep through the cracks of storm shutters that lined your bedroom windows—wait, not your room at all, came the sudden realization after examining the four bed post keeping the canopy aloft above.  The smell was familiar, enough so that it took little thought to click that this had to be Mai’s personal room at the Inn. She did so love to burn incense that resembled that of cherry blossoms, and her perfume oil was a permanent addition to the sheets your back rested upon. Vanilla and lavender, Mai’s energies filling the space like the tender humming of music. But the darkness was present even now, you had not missed it—the whispers, the thrumming, the sound of distant screams that made your head feel like it was rattling around in a cage begging to be freed. 

Christ, you felt like death. Worse than any hangover sake could cause. Your body ached terribly, head still sore and eyes burning as if you had cried a thousand tears in the time spent asleep. Suffering in every direction, so profoundly wrung out that being a dishrag would be preferable to this. Using too much of your abilities was always such a poor idea, even in emergencies, but that didn’t mean you could go without ever committing to something of that nature again in the future. A price always had to be paid, and you were willing to do so if it meant keeping others safe. Purifications and blessings were so much easier than actual fighting, you never liked doing it. The feeling left behind was vile and uneasy, dark and darker still the longer you summoned it forth. And now…where were you and the others left? Still trapped in whatever game this spirit played, still uncertain to the cause and how to be freed of it. 

You groaned at the thought, attempting to roll your head to the side and wincing at something cool and wet slipping down your temple. A washcloth, dipped in water. A fever must have sprung when you passed out, which would explain why your yukata was gone and a new thin, cotton slip was all that remained. Western in style, new to you. It was certainly more breathable and light, a double edged sword in the chill of the room, yet relieving on your sweat-slicked skin. You found yourself growing chillier by the second, wincing and shifting around until finding a quilt near your side to drag high enough to cover your poor chest. A bath sounded so heavenly at that moment, but lord knew how dangerous it was to attempt entering a body of water with such a volatile spirit within the hotel, and considering its manipulation of liquids? You wouldn’t risk it.

”You’re awake…!” 

You peeled your eyes open again, turning to see Mai rise from a tatami mat in the corner looking rather disheveled. A part of you would have laughed if not for how tired your body felt, settling instead for a small, exhausted smile and an itty bitty wave of one hand. 

She fumbled getting out of her quilt, grunting and huffing when her feet got caught. That did wring a laugh out of your throat, followed immediately by a wince when your ears started ringing. Laughing wasn’t a luxury the foolish could afford. 

Mai finally managed to wrestle out of her blankets, feet quiet as she trotted over to you and carefully removed the washcloth from your head, “Welcome back, Y/N…how are you feeling? Are you alright?”

Her eyes were so concerned, dark, tired bags of exhaustion weighing down her eyelids. Those buns on her head were long gone, hair hanging in a loose braid that you knew she must’ve simply thrown pins into to keep them out of the way. Had she been up all night tending to you? The very thought made a pit of guilt form in your stomach, heavy and tight as you remembered all the times you had done the same for her, and vice versa again. 

“Tired,” You managed in a grunt, peeling yourself off the sheets into a sitting position as she braced a hand on your back, “I’m assuming the sun never rose this morning, or else I slept until night again.”

Mai nodded solemnly, lips pulling into an even tighter frown as you both heard the wind howl as if responding to your accusation, the storm shutters banging and slamming against the windows like angry fists. Not exactly a good sign. 

You sighed, sitting further forward and wincing at the cracking of many bones in your back. It didn’t take a mirror to know you would be covered in bruises from head to toe, and one look at your hands was enough to confirm—dark, purplish marks  lined your hands and fingers, almost in symbol-like patterns that stretched up to where your forearms disappeared into the sleeves of the slip you wore. Ouch.

Mai sat down on the edge of the bed, expression troubled as she watched you flip open your palms a couple times in contemplation.

”Are you okay…?” She whispered again, placing a hand on your head to check your temperature, “The fever seems to be gone, but you could use an herbal soak to help with all those bruises.”

You shared a brief look over that suggestion, the two of you echoing a disappointed sigh at the realization of how unlikely that opportunity was anymore. No baths, not until this problem was solved.

”Let’s…worry about a bath later,” Mai’s tone was edged with barely contained worry as she stood from the bed, walking to her wardrobe in the corner to gather some clothes, “I’ll get you something to wear.“

A grunt left you in response, swinging both legs around the edge of the bed and resisting a pathetic whine at how sore they felt. Every muscle that weaved through your body seemed to ache, but their cries were ignored as you rose to a standing position, feeling sulky and sullen as Mai handed you something a bit more manageable to wear. Men’s clothes, easier to move around in, looser and more comfortable. Sulky and sullen? Not anymore. You grinned immediately in response, relieved to have something with more wiggle room for your legs, testing the width by kicking one leg out, then another. Mai giggled at the display, helping you pull your hair back into a bun with just a little less despair lingering in her eyes, a welcome change considering how dire the situation was. You tried not to think about it, smoothing your hands down the folded fabric at your waist and letting out a slow, measured breath.

“Oh, your puppy is at the door by the way,” Mai added matter-of-factly as she snuck a pin into your bun, wiping a couple wrinkles out of the back of your outfit. “He’s been sitting out there awake since last night, I’m sure of it.”

You blinked, briefly confused as to who she was referring to before it clicked in your head. The Medicine Seller—you had almost forgotten about sharing a room with him, and the events that transpired last night. Something about hearing Mai refer to him as a puppy made you feel somewhat hysterical, like this whole scenario was some strange dream conjuring by your fever-hazed brain that was still playing out despite the obvious reality of it all. 

“Wait—He is?” Your body turned to stare incredulously at Mai, whose expression echoed back a droll smile. “What happened when I passed out?”

You remembered the fight, watching the Medicine Seller spin across the room in a flurry of ofuda, the flashing colors of his kimono despite the dark that surrounded everyone involved. The water rising to your waist, the cold, the oarfish, all of it. There was an air of familiarity about the way the Medicine Seller fought, so gracefully assured in each movement, eyes sharply focused and hands an elegant dance of talisman and the strategic reflecting of spirits to protect human life. You could still hear the clack of his geta sandals on the table tops, water flinging out from his body in beautiful droplets with each spin of his form. And the rattling of his sword, the head a strange, almost devilish creature that excitably clattered its teeth and stared wildly at the chaos surrounding it. Both had seen you subdue the oarfish, both had seen what you were capable of—somehow it wasn’t shocking that he was now hovering outside your room, eager for information. 

Mai shrugged, falling back on the bed with a sigh while you attempted to slip some sandals onto your feet, “I mean…he’s the one who picked you up and brought you to my room—you know my father gets squirrely about anything concerning your mom, which includes you . And the other men were—”

“Useless.” You finished her statement, grumbling a little and feeling somewhat embarrassed that the Medicine Seller had to carry you in the first place. And oddly charmed, which was even more humiliation on top of the pre-existing shame making your ears burn bright red. “Anything else of note?”

Your friend bit her lip, body pulling back into a sitting position as something akin to sheepishness made its home on her face. You recognized a nervous tick immediately in the way she nibbled at one nail, a telltale sign that she might have done something that would be upsetting in some way, shape or form. There was a bounciness to the way she squirmed on the bed, as if she was suddenly ten years old again and hiding that she had broken a vase from her mother and father.

“...Mai.” Your tone was flat, even, and threatening all at once. 

She caved like a wet sandcastle, nose scrunched up and hands making vague gestures of frustration as she replied, “Okay! Alright, I admit I might have…yelled at him a bit.”

At the Medicine Seller? For what? You folded your arms, expression going a little sour and worried as one foot tapped impatiently on the floor, silently urging her to continue despite already knowing it was going to be something frustrating. 

Mai shrunk back somewhat, looking like a thoroughly chastised child as her lower lip jutted out rather immaturely, “He was just being nosy, and I didn’t like it—he kept hanging around you, and bad things kept happening so I might have told him to back off a bit.”

Oh boy, something told you that was an extremely trivialized version of what actually happened. So delicately described as a simple encounter, maybe some mild yelling, but alas—you knew well what kind of temper Mai shouldered around, and when it came to you she loved to play the role of protective big sister, especially after your mother’s death. That poor Medicine Seller definitely got an earful of Mai’s wrath, a thorough scolding that would leave even the strongest-willed a bit wilted by the end. You hoped to the gods that the man had taken enough time to breathe and relax after such an encounter, your shoulders slumping with the realization that he might be less inclined to hang around you now, which was such a shame. It was a begrudging fact that you unfortunately enjoyed the Medicine Seller’s company despite how cryptic and vague he was. Okay, yes, he was very pretty and his entire vibe was sort of compelling to be around—that wasn’t your fault, not with how things had been the last few months. Encountering a man that wasn’t panting and barking at you with every given moment was a breath of fresh air, a respite. 

Regardless of all that, a sigh left your lungs, eyes turning to Mai in a barely masked warning as you finally replied to her obvious fib, “Mai Alford, you know better than to chastise someone without consulting me first—-he was the only thing keeping me from take a shot glass to the temple yesterday.”

She shrunk back as if you had doused her with ice water, expression sour and shoulders falling forward from the scolding, “I know I know…I just…I worry you know? I haven’t seen you…you do that since your mom had—“

You shot her a look that closed that line of conversation like a book snapping shut, a cloud of dust surrounding it with a fog screen that you hoped would prevent further instigation of such topics. Time apart certainly had changed things, you knew that—-The day you left was one permanently etched in both your minds, a hollow reminder of the tragedies that can befall us even with all the kindness and preparation in the world. Mai’s sweet nature and genuine smile was not enough to stop what had to be done, and her eyes remained haunted by visions of what transpired. You could see it even then, the sheen of tears not falling, echoing the regret in yours like staring into the surface of a still lake. The burden of blame did not rest on her shoulders for how different things felt now, nor for the fact that she did see you in a new light. How could she not, with all the hazy monstrosities that came to that life on that evening, when the cicadas still hissed in the dying light of the sun and your hands burned as they grasped onto what humans could not touch, your mother’s screams ringing out, echoing, howling—-

You haunted my womb like a ghost, a monster. 

“…Sorry,” Mai’s mumble snapped you out of the racing thoughts, heartbeat fading from your thudding ears as you turned to look back at where she sat on the bed, “I…I’m sorry for bringing it up again, I…I know it’s hard.”

Her apology was genuine, you knew that. The way she wrung her hands together was so familiar, so young and innocent. It reminded you of kinder days, of sunny mornings spent laughing and feeding the koi scraps from breakfast, being shouted at by one of the other housemaids and screaming as you tried to run to the family shrine. Always caught by the scruffs before making it even a few feet up the hill, squealing and red faced. 

You smiled softly despite everything, sitting down next to her and letting your head plop against her shoulder. A small sniffle escaped despite her clear efforts not to cry, her shoulders trembling and one hand tightly grabbing the folds of your clothing.

”Thanks for sticking with me,” You whispered, voice low and barely audible over the rain clattering above, “I know it’s scary, I…Thank you for staying besides all that. You’re all I have.”

No father, no mother, no family. Just Mai, and the feet that carried you forward.

She sniffled again at that, a little bit more indignantly this time as her noggin bonked playfully against yours, “You say that like you expect me to just ditch you. Which is never happening, by the way.”

Oh yes, you didn’t have any doubts of that. Hips attached till you were old and gray, and Mai had ten or so kids constantly coming around with their spouses to meet you like some weird family aunt. The very thought made you laugh, the sound causing Mai to jump as if she had been zapped by electricity. Your body moved to stand, stretching your arms up once more and groaning at the popping of joints, the aching bruises and the sting of whatever sound that was keeping the headache mumbling at the back of your skull. Mai was counting on your to figure this out, which is why she invited you to the Inn to begin with—-purification and exorcism were simple tasks, and this was supposed to be a cut and dry cleansing so that the hotel could settle without issue. So much for that, especially with the Medicine Seller running around with his little scales and ofuda all over the hallways. It was strange to see someone else engaging with the craft, but you were trying to take it as a blessing in disguise. He seemed capable, and right now? You needed capable. 

Your feet quietly stepped towards the door, clothing quietly rustling as you went to slide it open despite Mai’s obvious pout. At both your laughter at her words, and the obvious shift back to the mysterious man sitting in the hallway that she clearly disliked. That was her problem—-there was still the little incident of the mentioned marriage she never told you about, and that would eventually have to be addressed after all this nonsense came to a head.

Of course, he was in fact sitting out in the hall. Like a bright little floor decoration, a statue adorned in primary colors and staring straight forward without blinking. That was until you opened the door, his somewhat focused expression perking up noticeably and head quickly turning those yellow eyes on you once more. For some reason, something about his immediate change in mood reminded you of a dog hearing its name being called, eager and excitable. You didn’t miss the curve of his lips, the way his hair flowed and settled with the quick movement before your gazes met. His eyes were bright, almost ecstatic to see you awake, which was enough to make your stomach squeeze like a fist had wrapped around it. Hunger, you lied to yourself, clearly that sensation was hunger for breakfast. It was a barely convincing lie as you quickly scanned his form, taking in the box next to him, the scales lining the hallway, and the way his black nails tapped on the hardwood almost impatiently, anticipation spoken only in sound.

”Ah—you’re finally awake,” He hummed, words very pleasant indeed as he rose to his feet in one fluid, unsettling movement. “Are you still feeling unwell? I could prepare a tonic to aid in relieving your symptoms, if you wish.”

If he had a tail, it would be wagging, that much was obvious. Regardless of that, his eagerness was equal parts annoying and a breath of fresh air, respectively.

You fought an eye roll, opting instead to breathe in through your nose and hope your face didn’t look too red, “That’s not necessarily. I need to eat breakfast, and you’re coming with me.”

Surprise flickered across his expression at your remark, leaving no room for argument as you reached down to grab one of his hands in your own. He seemed silently bemused by your actions, offering no complaint or resistance, but his eyes lingered on your face with a perplexity that you were struggling to identify the source of. His head cocked slightly as if he was merely confused by the casual nature of your actions, fingers flexing in a manner that made a jolt shoot up your spine in the seconds that passed. What did your hand feel like to him? Was it warm, soft? His were calloused in a surprising manner, yet utterly encompassing your own in warmth, not a hint of discomfort lingering. One of his nails pressed ever so slightly into your palm, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you that they existed at all. It curled like a snake in your stomach, and you did your best to pretend it wasn’t there in the first place. Delusional, yes, but there were things you needed to talk about with him, and you weren’t about to let him slither off just yet.

”Mai,” You called into the room, watching her rise to her feet and stare at you both with wide, blinking eyes, “Can you find any remaining paperwork for me on the previous land owners? And the construction that took place in the last few years?”

She kept looking between you both, clearly thinking hard enough that you felt certain smoke was about to start rising from her ears. But if she had something to say about the situation, it remained within. Instead, something akin to realization flickered in those grey eyes, and she snorted incredulously and shook her head as if you had done something to warrant such a reaction.

”Got it,” Her voice was suspiciously sing-song as she slipped past you and the Medicine Seller, her fingers pinching your side ever so slightly as she added. “I’ll give you two some alone time.”

Ah. You scrunched your nose up irritably at that little remark, eyes narrowed at her retreating figure and the fading lantern glow. If smirks were audible, hers would be the plinking of piano keys with each little step, both musical and mischievous above the dull, hollow rumble of the darkness within the hotel. Totally unnecessary to say something of that nature, but then again Mai wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to embarrass you after the endless teasing you dealt out for her first crush. Her taste in men was atrocious, and the boy had not been handsome in the slightest. Not that your intentions for the Medicine Seller were romantic in any capacity, in fact you weren’t sure how she was coming to these little conclusions in the first place. It was irritating and humiliating that she would suggest as such, enough that your cheeks burned in a manner that had to be obvious, even in the dark. 

The Medicine Seller, luckily, did not seem bothered. His chuckle made you jump like a startled cat, turning around quick enough to catch him pressing the side of his index finger to his lips with an amused smile. 

“You two certainly seem close,” He remarked, tone low and observatory as he looked over your obviously heated face. “She did give me quite the scolding earlier on your behalf, something about strangling me in my own kimono if I caused you any more harm.”

A groan left your lips at that, one hand running down your face in exasperation. Yeah, that was about as bad as you expected, but gods—she had to choose between getting mad at this man and wanting to humiliate you for hanging around him. Those two struggles didn’t exactly hold hands, nor did they make sense to keep pursuing. 

Speaking of holding hands, you  forgot his hand was still in yours. The sensation of his fingers squeezing was a humbling reminder, one that made your throat close to keep an instinctive squeak from spilling out. 

“Yes, well,” You managed to stammer, clearing your throat and dragging him in the direction of the stairs with very little of your dignity intact, “Breakfast first before any more talk. We both need to eat, and plan, and…think.”

He hummed in agreement, but you didn’t get to see his yellow eyes lingering on where your hand held his, eyelids slightly lowering and head quirking again as he examined your fingers intertwined. He watched the way light danced from the lantern you held, shadows dancing with them over where skin touched skin. He could see them—-the deep, dark bruises marring your flesh in the patterns of the marks that manifested during the evening fight. They looked painful, telling a story of ache and turmoil that you had gotten rather good at hiding away. He slid a thumb delicately over one of the particularly grisly discolorations, feeling the slightest hint of lingering spiritual energy and frowning as he thought over what could have possibly caused it, and how a human could have survived such an onslaught of energy. You tried not to shiver at the sensation of his silent speculation and that small, almost indiscernible touch, but it raced through your blood like a live wire, his energy like a silken whisper in one ear.

This was going to be a long, long breakfast.

The kitchen had grown rather melancholy in the passing hours. 

You had partially wondered who would make breakfast if the staff was gone, but Lady Tomoko had taken it upon herself to teach Lady Ana how to make traditional breakfast food. The smell of coals cooking fish met your nostrils, mouth watering in an almost startling amount as it was accompanied by miso and cooked rice. You released the Medicine Seller’s hand to quickly bound over to the kitchen entrance, ignoring the few other men sitting in the dining room trying to nurse hangovers. Whatever spark of indignation that kept their fires lit in the night had long since fizzled out, and you would take that as a little victory now that it was a new day. Hopefully they would be more cordial now that the situation was obviously messed up and frightening, but in the moment all you wanted was to stuff your face with food, regroup, and try to catch the Medicine Seller eating for once. It was becoming a new mystery and you were terribly stubborn when it came to seeking information.

You poked your head into the kitchen, watching lady Tomoko stand in front of a coal stove with her hair pinned into a bun and her skirts tied back to allow her better movement. Lady Ana was sipping a cup of tea in the corner, a clay pot of rice still steaming on the counter nearby and her eyes appearing tired. 

“Morning,” You greeted, the two women turning to stare at you in surprise, “Is the breakfast service done, or can I request two meals in the dining room?”

Something flashed in Lady Ana’s eyes, an emotion you recognized easily as fear. She took a measured step back at the sight of you,  fingers gripping her cup so hard you feared she would crack it. In her other hand, you quizzically stared at something beaded hanging down and glinting slightly in the candle light—what was that? She was clutching at it so hard you wondered if it drew blood, holding it to her chest as it would somehow protect her in the barely withheld darkness of the kitchen. Maybe a rosary?

Lady Tomoko, however, kept her smile as warm as ever, unfazed as she turned to the coals and tightened the bow on the back of her yukata, “Of course, sweetheart, I just finished some mackerel.” 

You beamed at this revelation, instantly lighting up at the idea of an actual breakfast in this madness, “Thank you!”

She chuckled at your enthusiasm, the warmth of her laugh so similar to your mother’s that your chest ached terribly in response. You tried to ignore it, pulling out of the doorway so you could make your way back to a table for breakfast. The Medicine Seller was already sitting, eyes scanning the room like a hawk as he took up the very same booth you had sat in during the evening, all signs of the thrown alcohol already cleaned up by someone. You watched him wipe a finger over the wooden table, frowning in annoyance when there was no visible residue on his skin. What was he looking for? You were painfully curious, trotting over and plopping in the chair across from his booth seat, sitting crisscross and staring at him with obvious bewilderment. He seemed very calm for someone that had fought giant fish mere hours ago, in waist high water no less. Not that you were any better—-you doubted most would be able to stomach food in the current predicament, it wasn’t every day that the sun didn’t rise and a hotel suddenly became an island resort.

His eyes flickered over to you again, taking in you sitting cheerfully in the chair with raised brows. You watched him flick his fingers slightly, the drawers of his wooden box opening to reveal beautiful, intricate fabric inside, lined with delicate  trim as more of those scales came hopping out onto his hands. Your mouth fell open in awe at the display, eyes wide and body leaning forward to watch them fly out of his grasp, taking up every corner of the room like little guardsmen, watching over as you sat in a brief moment of peace and quiet. Shockingly, the bells barely jingled despite how much they moved, and you wondered if the sound had significance, and would put money on it having to do with the Mononoke.

You leaned your head on one arm, still watching the little scales as you remarked, “Just how many of those do you have? This is very excessive.” 

He chuckled at that, sitting back in the booth and letting the drawers click shut. Your eyes were drawn instinctively to his waist, where that sword hilt still rested tucked against one hip. You swore to the gods above that its eyes met yours, and its little mouth started clattering excitedly in response.

The Medicine Seller frowned, looking down from over his nose at the sword with a flicker of confusion and annoyance. One hand caressed the head, as if hoping to calm it down, and you were pretty sure its eyes only rolled back in ecstasy instead.

Honestly? You had some thoughts of agreement with the little creature, and immediately started beating them away with a stick. Bad thoughts to have, especially about his hands.

”They aid in me in discovering the location of the Mononoke,” The Medicine Seller continued as if the sword wasn’t trembling at his hip, tone slightly droll as his eyes raised to meet yours, “And as such, they are quite necessarily, I can assure you.”

Ah. That made sense, and was definitely aligned with what you had previously assumed. 

You were just so distracted by the sword hilt, offering it a little smile and wave as you replied dismissively, “Yes yes, I’m sure. Who’s the little guy currently mouth breathing at me?”

You swear the Medicine Seller sighed. So faint, so hidden, but you heard the annoyed exhalation of breath as if it had coiled around you like a warm breeze. Was this familiar behavior from the strange little object, or was he exasperated due to it being a new addition? Whichever the case, you saw his gaze flicker to the wooden box as if debating depositing the sword thing back inside, lips tilted down in a perplexed frown as the sword continued chattering. Honestly, you almost wanted to laugh. His little face was fierce, but small, and his eyes drifted a little further apart at times than they probably should. You liked his little mane of hair, the design reminding you of a Yokai with bright colors and sharp teeth. It was a bit wild to be entirely honest, the item itself rather fancy in design as if it was a rare, priceless artifact. 

“…Pay it no mind.” The Medicine Seller said with a grimace, summoning a handful of ofuda and slapping them onto the sword hilt. It’s chattering muffled immediately, but you could see it squirm under the coiling charms like it ached to break free.

It was becoming less and less surprising now when the Medicine Seller did odd, cryptic things. 

You did your best to brush it off, Lady Tomoko providing ample distraction as she came out of the kitchen with two trays of a nearly cooked breakfast. You beamed at the sight, absolutely delighted as the steaming hot food was placed in front of both you and the Medicine Seller. Grilled mackerel, miso soup, piping hot rice and freshly brewed tea. Your mouth watered as if you had not eaten in months, thoroughly lacking in nutrients after the little stint of spiritual nonsense from hours prior and stomach loudly complaining, enough so that you feared the Medicine Seller might hear it. If that was the case, he gave no indication, merely mimicking your polite little bow to Lady Tomoko with a chaste  smile quirking his lips. She echoed the sentiment, though you could see a bit of hesitation toward the stranger sitting across from you at the table. You didn’t blame her for feeling wary—you were still uncertain in some aspects as well, not that it would ever be a vocalized thought whilst this incident continued. 

Lady Tomoko wandered back to the kitchen, leaving you to face your food with sparkling eyes and ravenous hunger. You did manage to say your thanks aloud for the food, as was good and proper, but that was as far as your manners would go with how famished you felt. Chopsticks were in your hand in the next instant, followed by your first bite of grilled mackerel as it coated your tongue in warm and delicious savory goodness that felt like a blessing from the gods. A groan of relief shamelessly left your lips, glistening with the oils of the fish as you put a hand happily to one cheek. Lady Tomoko could certainly cook, it was so nostalgic. You remembered flavors like this from your childhood, comforting and scrumptious. Even with maid service and cooks, Lady Tomoko often ended up in the kitchen with your mother in the early hours, laughing and cutting vegetables. One focusing on tea and sides, the other on the stove or charcoal. Your mother always loathed how it made her hair smell, but you remember being lifted into loving arms and happily inhaling the scents of fire and cooked fish from her Yukata. 

Even in your reminiscing, you couldn’t help but notice that the Medicine Seller still had not retrieved his chopsticks. Those yellow eyes were on you, the scrutiny of his gaze making you freeze mid bite like a startled deer, feeling suddenly self conscious of how you presented while eating.

”Are you not going to eat…?” You asked after somehow managing to swallow a bite of rice, setting the warm bowl down and warily examining him in return. “You should. Those rice balls were several hours ago.”

His lips twitched at that, one sleeved arm raising to cover his mouth in a manner that almost felt embarrassed. His gaze flickered to the side, staring at nothing in particular as you caught what looked to be slight sweat glistening on his left brow. Again, no makeup smeared.

”Ah…do forgive me if I don’t partake,” He began, tone measured and overly calm as he shifted slightly in the booth. “There are elements to—

“Nope.” You interjected, setting down your chopsticks hard enough that his eyes widened slightly and turned back to level you with yellow confusion. “If you’re not eating, I’m not. Your body needs nourishment, and quite frankly the situation we’re in makes that even more important. Eat.”

His expression flickered slightly, souring just enough for you to catch it with a somewhat triumphant realization that he was becoming readable. Honestly you were starting to doubt he was a human being at all with the way he acted, but it wasn’t like those rice balls from earlier had been shoved into a corner of the room or thrown away by the time you got dressed. Unless he was some kind of trickster spirit capable of vanishing things at will, It must have been consumed. And you were determined now to see why he hid eating from you at that time. 

A sigh left his lips as you sat poised and patient, waiting to see what he would do. At this point, he was about to learn just how stubborn you could be, and a test of will was in order.

But to your surprise, he lowered his arm in resignation, fingers so careful as they plucked chopsticks from the tray and held them without issue. You mimicked the motion, eyes widening slightly in surprise at his compliance. Already your mind was racing with reasons why he would avoid eating, bouncing between a mouth that unhinged like a snake or a monstrous tongue that would flick out like a frog and snatch the sustenance back into his gaping maw. Both seemed highly unlikely, but you kept the thoughts to yourself and simply waited, staring at him with as much scrutiny as he had graced you moments prior. 

You swear his nostrils twitched as he plucked some mackerel from the plate, raising it slowly to his parted lips and politely, pointedly depositing it within to chew. You waited, half expecting him to look disgusted, annoyed, or any of the other previous imaginary scenarios once he started eating, but it was quite the contrary. You saw his lips tighten for a slight moment of what seemed to be him trying to remain composed before an absolutely delighted smile curled his lips, one of the most genuine displays of joy you had seen on him so far. His eyes lit up with clear enjoyment, expression perking up noticeably and hands quick to replace what had been so quickly devoured. You froze in surprise—watching him eat was the most human thing he had done in the time spent together at this hotel, and it was charming the socks of your body in an entirely unexpected way.

Oh, he loved food. He loved food so much that he couldn’t stay composed while eating it.

”Ah…” He sighed, looking quite content as he sipped from the small bowl of miso soup, “The tofu absorbed all the taste of the miso, and the fish! Smokey and delightful, it—“

The Medicine Seller cut off when he realized you were still watching, freezing in place similarly to how you had earlier. He looked so startled, so vulnerable in a way that made your stupid heart thud like a giddy drum, dancing around in revelry at such a cute discovery. 

You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, so you resumed your eating with similar enthusiasm, picking up your own soup and taking a long sip of it before replying, “That’s Lady Tomoko’s cooking, she and my mom used to make breakfast all the time together.”

Remarking on his reactions would only make him less likely to eat in front of you again. This was an easily accepted fact, and you would begrudgingly step back from embarrassing the Medicine Seller considering how fun it was to see him react in such a way.

He hesitatingly followed your actions, returning to his meal and letting out a soft sigh. You could almost picture a happily wagging tail behind him as he spoke, carefully in between bites, “Your mother must have been a very good cook…you mention her quite often, you know.”

You knew that was true, no point in denying it. Your head bobbed in a confirming nod, body squirming slightly in the seat at mention of your mother from his lips. It felt…odd, talking about her like this.

”She was,” Caution laced your tone, as well as obvious hesitation at the topic. “I suppose I do mention her a lot. It’s normal to talk about people when we miss them, you know?”

The Medicine Seller let out a hum of agreement, your eyes catching something almost wistful passing over his expression as he chewed. Part of you expected him to simply inhale the food with how obviously he enjoyed it, but every motion was so careful, so measured. He savored every bite as if it was his last, like food was not something he often indulged in. You found yourself mesmerized by the way he ate, pausing as your chopsticks rested against the edge of your bowl of rice, eyes locked on his parting lips, those sharp teeth within and the soft pink of his tongue. It felt like staring at something forbidden, as if the gods themselves would come down and cast judgement upon you for gazing at something sacred. The Medicine Seller was just such a compelling person that you couldn’t help yourself, like a moth drawn to flame as it were. Ironic considering how you likened his kimono patterns to a moth previously.

”…What about you?” You found your mouth moving without any thought, words soft despite how tight your chest felt. As if the answer was already clear, fingers reaching for the flame hoping to be burned. “What was your mom like?”

You expected him to pause, flinch, maybe freeze in place. Some sort of reaction to indicate pain, memory, resilience. But he didn’t. Instead, you noticed his food was finished in the time you spent thinking, his hands carefully placing down the chopsticks as he politely murmured his thanks for the meal. His expression was oddly peaceful, lacking in the grief you knew all too well, the kind that lived in your chest and dug talons in on occasion to remind you it was there. His lips curved back to that neutral little smile, eyelids lowering and hands resting on the table ever so delicately before him.

”…Some things are not worth exploring,” He replied in a tone so calm that it oddly sent a shiver down your spine, “Wouldn’t you agree, Y/N?”

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[spirit-of-the-void]

Mononoke Fanfic: The Saturated Iris

Read on AO3: HERE

Chapter 4: Act One, Part Four: The Catalyst

TW: Depictions of violence, male aggression, arranged marriage

To say the dining room felt heavy was an understatement.

The air hung like a storm cloud over the remaining hotel guests, sitting in various stages of fear, grief, and acceptance at the wooden tables that had once been filled with chattering faces and warm bodies. You were still trying to settle yourself into a less fitful state, leaning back in a booth and taking deep breaths through your nose and mouth. There was little room to think about the “why” and “what” of the situation anymore, and you were well aware of that as you tried to push those thoughts aside and start brainstorming solutions. This wasn’t the first time you had experienced something beyond the normal “human” realm of explanation, not by a long shot—but to this degree? This severity? It was enough to make your stomach remain knotted and swimming with nausea, senses absolutely fried by the sheer volume of nonsense taking place all at once. How much could a human brain take before it eventually snapped under the weight of what it isn’t supposed to perceive? Something told you that the whole room was going to start finding out, and finding out fast.

Mai’s parents were doing what they did best during a crisis—damage control. The cook from earlier was nowhere to be found, so Lady Tomoko was making tea and pouring it for various patrons around the room while Michael tried to talk to the diplomats, looking pallid and stressed with every raised voice or panicked reaction. Honestly, after that little display earlier? The men’s fragile egos were the least of your concern, and the eventual aim was to wait for the nausea to really hit and use that as the perfect opportunity to puke on one of them just for the fun of it. Clearly, evil was winning within you, not that it was your fault. One hand still rubbed the spot that cretin had shoved, and after a quick peak you were angered to see a deep, dark bruise had bloomed across your collar bone like a splash of ink. It was sore to the touch, the edges somewhat yellowed and sickly looking. It was an unwelcome addition to an already sour feeling body, and a headache that was tap dancing along your brow line with no sign of stopping. The room was already loud in other senses, and the hysterics from some weren’t helping. 

Mai was trying to help her mother and keep an eye on you at the same time. She always got overbearingly doting at times like this, stressing that you drink water, eat food and medicine, the works. You didn’t have the heart to burst her bubble with the realization that things weren’t helping, but…they never did. Not while the threat still surrounded the building like an invisible bubble, and all of your senses screamed like a choir of voices yet undeniably silent to others. A tapestry of misery had been woven just for you, and it was unfortunately hanging over your shoulders in a way that allowed none to pull it away. As per usual. 

The Medicine Seller was sitting nearby, his wooden box once again by his side and yellow eyes constantly taking in the room. Each forsaken westerner weeping about the end of days, Noah’s flood, the wrath of god. Miss Ana sitting glassy eyed and silent when offered a cup of tea, and the man you came to know as Mr. Sato, the one who had tried to leave, with his head in his hands and a lit cigarette burning out in an ash tray. You tried not to stare at the Medicine Seller himself, but it was fairly hard not to with how eye-catching his whole getup was. Luckily for you, keeping your eyes open for long stretches of time made the nausea worse, so you contented yourself with breathing instead, curling inward and resting both elbows on the table as to hold up your extremely heavy head. 

Movement beside you caught your attention, the shifting of fabrics and the sound of a tiny drawer being opened. You tried to peel back your eyelids to see what was going on, but it was difficult to manage. How late at night was it now? How could any of you be expected to sleep after that? 

The rustling was getting louder, and you thought for sure now that the Medicine Seller was doing something odd at your left, odd enough that it was beginning to sound like grinding of stone on stone. A sigh left your lips involuntarily, and despite your eyes not opening, your mouth worked just fine.

“What…are you doing over there?” Man, your voice sounded so exhausted, so droll. Almost mean, which wasn’t your intention at all. You hoped he didn’t take it as such.

He didn’t seem to. His voice sounded as good-natured as ever as the busywork continued, giving you just enough willpower to agonizingly peel back one eyelid and look at him in confusion, “I’m making medicine, something to help with your fatigue.”

Medicine? That certainly got your attention, body managing to pull itself upright like a limp puppet on marionette strings as you took in his appearance. It was somehow so foreign when he wasn’t just kneeling and doing nothing, your eyes blinking in disbelief at the sight of him crisscrossed on the booth seat, mortar and pestle in hands and a couple cloths with herbs and powders spread across the table. His brow was furrowed in a way that was almost charming with how focused it was, his purple lip turned down and yellow eyes narrowed in concentration as he ground…something, into powder. You could see now that various little drawers on his box were open, revealing a variety of products, supplies, and ingredients of unknown name and origin. Somehow, despite his name, it never actually occurred to you that he could be capable of making or selling actual medicine, so watching him do so was a perplexing thing to be sure. Yet his slender hands were capable and steady as they poured whatever powder was made onto a small, white cloth, and returned the mortar and pestle to where it belonged in an empty drawer.

He delicately plucked up the paper, careful not to spill as his body rotated to face yours. You almost jumped out of your skin as he plucked up your wrist from the table with his warm fingers, flipping your hand over with a strangely intimate slowness that had your head spinning a bit. Thoughts about the situation first, thoughts about how that made you feel later. The Medicine Seller gingerly placed the powdered medicine in your palm before letting you go, those sultry yellow eyes raising to look at you from under his lashes. He had leaned in close, very close, enough that his warm breaths fanned your cheeks, and his scent lingered in your nostrils. Warm, sweet, like something honeyed—yet fragrant, like flowers.

“Take that with water or tea,” He instructed, snapping you out of your haze like a tight rope being released. You gawked at him for a moment in confusion, and his lips twitched up ever so slightly in amusement. “For your nausea, pain, and fatigue. I will need your aid in what is to come.”

Aid? You decided not to question at that moment what he meant, as the temptation of no longer wanting to vomit was too much to pass up. Honestly, most sane people would question being given a mystery powder to take from a stranger they met hours prior, but you were clearly there to gamble and not think. The powder was being slid into your mouth at one moment, washed down by lukewarm green tea in the next. The taste? Not good, but medicine rarely was—although you did catch notes of what tasted like peppermint at the back end, probably for the nausea. Almost instantly, the roiling of your stomach started to calm into peace, and the urge to vomit faded until you felt certain foods were welcome once more. It was such a relief that you almost groaned in satisfaction, leaning your head back and taking deep breaths while whatever he gave you coursed happily through your body. It was most definitely making you more alert, and helping the pounding headache shrink into something more manageable, tiny and insignificant compared to the howl of sound from earlier. 

The Medicine Seller seemed pleased with the obvious change in your demeanor, putting away his supplies with a soft  hum of appreciation that felt like it was rumbling your lungs like a purr. You finally managed to sit up all the way, crossing your legs on the booth and regretting not changing into something a bit more manageable than a yukata. Not that it mattered—now wasn’t exactly the time for worrying about etiquette. 

“Thank you,” You said genuinely to the Medicine Seller, lips curving into a smile for the first time in hours as you curiously watched him close the drawers of his box, “I say this without offense, but I somehow didn’t think you could actually make medicine.”

He chuckled at that, turning away from his box with an almost tender glide of his fingers over the wood. The look he wore was not one of malice, more so bemused by the comment as he countered cheekily, “And I somehow doubt that you are here for nothing more than dancing, with no offense implied.”

Now that was funny. You laughed at the coy sort of way he said it, head leaning back and eyes alight with a strange mix of chagrin and mirth. He wasn’t wrong, and after admitting how much you were sensing earlier, he had to know he wasn’t far off base. Observant bastard. 

“Why don’t we equivalently exchange some information?” You offered, turning to face him with some of your hair draping off of one shoulder, “I tell you something, you tell me something.”

The Medicine Seller chuckled at that, turning his yellow eyes to where a cup of sake sat on the table, waiting for his lips to graze the bright red rim. It matched the markings on his skin as he raised it with careful fingers, almost elegant in the way he sipped the clear liquid with no sound. But you could see the movement of his throat as he swallowed, the way his mouth parted softly in satisfaction and the glistening wetness left behind on the dark purple of his upper lip. Why that was making you feel a particular kind of way was a mystery, one you would pick apart later, or hopefully not at all. It was noteworthy that there was no smear of lipstick or paint on the glass, which left you pondering as to just how he had gotten such a shade on his skin without it rubbing off. Did he layer lacquer or something on his mouth? That certainly didn’t feel safe. 

You were getting way too distracted by the way the Medicine Seller’s mouth moved around those sharp teeth, smirking ever so slightly in mirth as he articulated, “Oh? And should there be rules for this little game of exchange?”

He was having too much fun considering the absolutely abysmal level of distress in the room. But you were a team player, and more than happy to follow whatever train of thought he had in mind to keep whatever secrets he carried safe and sound. 

You took a moment to think, frowning a bit as your brain started digging for any rules that would make things more fair. It felt like several minutes passed before decisions were made, thoughts in order and plans in place as you turned back to the patiently waiting Medicine Seller.

“You can ask me first if that makes you more comfortable,” You grinned a bit, the rest of the room fading away into white noise as you somewhat lazily leaned back in the booth. “You can also forfeit answering a question if you’d like, but you risk losing out on my deliciously juicy little secrets in return.”

The Medicine Seller raised his brows at that, leisurely resting his head on one arm as it perched on his thigh, “How tantalizing. And do you have many of those ‘juicy secrets’?”

“So many.” You playfully matched his pose, lips curved into a mischievous smile and eyes alight with anticipation. 

What a flirtatious little exchange this was making out to be, and to your surprise the Medicine Seller seemed utterly intrigued by it. His pale gold eyes were illuminated with anticipation, probably the most eager you have ever seen him—the Medicine Seller clearly relished the opportunity to gather information of any kind, even if it was from you. Not that you were the most normal person in the room, even if most of the intricacies involved had become just a part of life. Things were a lot more overwhelming when you were a child, when things were unsure and your mother was slowly but surely falling apart. It had taken a while to become secure in yourself like this, so talking about it with a stranger was bound to be interesting. That was completely disregarding how utterly desperate you were to learn about the stranger, the Mononoke he mentioned and his reason for being at the hotel. It was worth it to become a bit vulnerable if only for the sake of peeling back the first few pages of that ever coveted book. 

The Medicine Seller leaned back in the booth a bit, kimono draping elegantly around his figure as his yellow gaze held yours with an intensity that made your toes curl a bit. Looking like that, it was going to be hard not giving him all the information he asked for. 

“Shall we begin, then?” The Medicine Seller’s lips quirked a little at the corners, nails tapping lightly on the wooden box at his side, “Tell me, why did you really come here to this Inn?”

Getting right to business then. An exhale left your chest at that, shedding the last of your reluctance in an attempt to make this conversation go by quickly before the others in the room started getting restless.

“For the record, I am a performer,” You made sure to set that straight first, pointing an accusatory finger and hating the way he smugly smiled at the sight of it. “And a rather good one at that. Furthermore, I’m here because Mai asked me to come here—she was having issues with disturbances at the hotel, and requested my aid.”

The Medicine Seller’s eyes lit up with interest, you were getting good at noticing. Just a barely noticeable raise of his eyelashes, pupils locked on yours without flinching as he leaned forward again, “Disturbances?”

You shook your head, arms crossed quite purposely in a show of firm will, “Nope, it’s my turn to ask a question. Tit for tat, kitsune.”

That earned you an eyebrow raise, a delightfully surprised expression tilting up the corners of his purple lined upper lip. His mannerisms became significantly more cute and less sultry when you managed to say or do something that he didn’t expect, like he got a little jolt of excitement when stumbling across the unknown. You found yourself imaging a swishing fox tail behind him, and two perked up ears poking through that bandana wrapped around his hair, definitely akin to how his emotions presented when engaging in normal conversation. 

“ Kitsune?” His tone was mockingly incredulous, one hand resting on his cheek in a cheeky display of fake hurt as he continued on in a sulky voice. “Is that what you have observed of me thus far? A trickster, here to cause mischief?”

As if that was a surprising revelation to be made. You shook your head in disbelief at his tone, trying very hard not to smile and validate his attempts at humor with the response he desired. 

“I can’t keep calling you ‘Medicine Seller’ all the time,” You made a face at the man in question, brows furrowed and eyes filled with displeasure at his innocent façade in return, “Unless you want to give a proper name now with such a nice opportunity presented?”

He smiled. And said nothing, merely turning away to take a long sip of his sake until all the liquid vanished down his throat. Yeah, that was about what you expected, especially from him. You hated that he was so nice to look at while also being the most insufferably vague thing on this mortal coil, with the addition of being way too aware of every single aspect of him that was otherworldly lovely. So pale, so pretty, so colorful. The way his eyelashes moved, the beautiful markings lining both cheeks and eyes, that dark-purple upper lip curved ever coy, ever perfect. The sharp nature of his nails were incredibly distracting, which was probably more your fault than his, as it was your foolish cranium that kept wondering what it would be like to feel them dig into your flesh, drawing blood. An absolutely out of character thought, you tried to convince yourself to no avail. It was your extremely poor taste that was leading to such thoughts, and it just made everything all the more annoying. Men were usually boring, not of significance, bland. The problem with the Medicine Seller was how completely interesting he was, how vibrant, unique–and that was so frustrating. 

To be entirely honest, you were really fighting the urge to take a cloth off one of the tables and wipe it across his face, just to see if he was using face-paint. There was no way he was that pale, nor tattoos that perfect. But that was a very impolite thought to have, especially when he was being so well-behaved following the rules he asked you to come up with. And his medicine had been remarkably effective, as if all the fatigue and misery had evaporated out of your body like smoke, leaving behind a veritable wellspring of focus and energy. It would be needed for what was to come, even if those outcomes were not quite clear yet. 

Regardless, you had a question to ask.

You crossed one ankle over the other, fingers filtering through your hair in a somewhat nervous gesture under the weight of his gaze. Inhale, exhale, speak. 

“You mentioned something earlier…a Mononoke,” Steady gazed, head raised and posture far more confident than you felt as the words flowed out easier than expected. “What is a Mononoke? Why are you here in this Inn, and how is the Mononoke involved with what is happening?”

The Medicine Seller’s expression shifted somewhat as you spoke, an undefinable emotion lowering those painted on brows as he delicately traced a hand across the table you shared, almost dancing his fingers across it with quiet, pronounced little clicks. 

“That sounded like more than one question,” His tone held a cautionary edge as those deft fingers lightly flicked the edge of your tea cup, sending little ripples fluttering out across the surface. “Or are the rules you implemented not to be heeded, Y/N?”

You swallowed audibly in response, the way he said your name sounding like a blessing and curse all in one neat little bundle. And that bundle was making a home in your chest, blooming like a rosebud that was equal part smooth petals and sharp thorns. The urge to squirm under that scrutinizing gaze was almost palpable, a taste on the back of your tongue, reaching down your throat. When was the last time another person had made you this nervous, this out of sorts? It wasn’t  a common sensation on your behalf, certainly not. But then again, maybe in the time spent traveling and mingling with humans had warped your sense of how people presented themselves. Keeping in mind, there was the flip side of that notion–perhaps the Medicine Seller was that strange, and these were valid feelings to be having. Well, minus the few stray thoughts about his looks, his hands, his form. Those were definitely worthy of a few whacks on the head from a  rolled up newspaper, and a thorough scolding from Mai if you ever dared to reveal those sordid details to her later. Which you wouldn’t. 

You opened your mouth to respond to that sultry little accusation, but was swiftly interrupted before getting a chance. The Medicine Seller’s expression shifted in a split second, eyes widening and nostrils flaring as his hands shot forward to yank you towards him, away from the back wall. A squeak of surprise and alarm left you, but realization clicked in as you practically fell into the Medicine Seller’s lap, and the sound of shattering glass echoed where your head had just been by that wall. The smell of alcohol hit your nostrils hard, along with the splattered remains of liquid over you both as you swung around to stare in shock at the men of the bar. They had been all but forgotten until now, so one rising to his feet wasn’t exactly in your bingo card of things to expect, and certainly not him hurling a glass of scotch in your direction. A stunned silence followed, your eyes wide and body frozen to the spot even as the Medicine Seller rose to his feet, eyes aglow with what you were learning to recognize as annoyance. Your eyes did not miss the single drop of liquor sliding down his cheek, nor the almost disdainful way he smeared it away with his thumb.

Huh. None of the markings smeared. Good to know.

“ I’ve had enough…!” The man was red-faced, huffing and puffing from what seemed like a great deal of time spent in his own head thinking about the situation as he glared at you and the Medicine Seller, “ I’m done listening to you freaks talk about ‘Mononoke’ this or ‘Mononoke’ that…! Your silly superstitious bullshit!”

The Medicine Seller narrowed his eyes, posture firm and calm as he regarded the obviously furious man unflinching, “It is unwise to take out your anger and frustration through acts of violence.  Especially on a young woman.”

Mai came running out of the kitchen at the commotion, looking between you and the man angrily standing in the group. Many appeared completely unable to speak at that moment, tongue tied by the rise of tension and simply staring as they struggled to comprehend what to do. Even Michael, usually ever in charge, could only stand quick enough that his chair clattered back on the floor, held back by Lady Tomoko as his face went paler than a sheet of paper. Oh, this had to be his worst nightmare—you knew far too well how he worked to keep his benefactors happy, especially the ones that came from overseas. To be in a situation where he had no control, and the men that lined his pockets were becoming a threat to the family safety and security he held so dear? What a balancing act that had to be going on in his cranium, so much that you half expected to see smoke leaking out of his ears. 

The angry man pointed an accusatory finger at the Medicine Seller, drawing your attention back as he practically spat, “ I wasn’t aiming for her, I was aiming for you, you pretentious little freak!” 

If there was a dictionary definition of the term “shit eating grin” the Medicine Seller’s portrait would be right next to it. His lips quirked up at this little revelation, posture noticeably relaxing and eyes alight with a devilish sort of condescension. 

“ Oh?” His voice was a purr of amusement, clearly not helping soothe the man’s temper as he asked, “May I ask who you might be, sir? I don’t think we’ve properly been introduced.”

The man’s nostrils flared noticeably, the skin around his neck that was just barely visible under his facial hair a beet shade of crimson. You noticed the men around him all stepping back, making sure to keep their distance from the clearly volatile nature of their fellow diplomat, but there was no shock at his outburst. His temper must have been a common issue with him, one they recognized and acknowledged from previous mishaps. Even Michael quickly moved to put himself between the man and Mai, who was hovering in front of the kitchen furious and near tears. That rage that poured from every inch of this man was a smoking gun, ready to point at whoever the pendulum of blame swung to next. As of that moment? It remained on the Medicine Seller, who appeared somehow bigger in energy compared to the aggressor, despite how physically smaller in size he was in reality. The western man had a few inches on him easy, and had a stocky body type that spoke of good food and exercise, whereas the Medicine Seller was a lot harder to determine due to his kimono.

“ I don’t owe you any pitiful explanations…!” The man hissed at the Medicine Seller’s request, eyes looking red from when he had been weeping earlier about the apocalypse. “ You–you’ve been a problem since you got here…! Somethin’ about you ain’t right, this—this must be your fault!”

His words grew more slurred as he spoke, clearly marred by hard liquor and not enough water to balance it. Michael caught this distinction as well, his mouth a hard line of stress and malcontent as he tried to step forward and address his benefactor.

“You’re drunk, Lucas,” He was trying to reason with what equated to a giant, wasted toddler, his tone cool and even as both hands raised in a peacemaking gesture. “Maybe you should step out of the room and cool your head, sober up a bit.”

Ah, and there the pendulum went swinging again, its arc wide as it swept around the room to point the gun barrel of Lucas’ anger at Michael and Mai instead. You tensed up immediately at seeing such a clearly volatile person glaring at your friend’s tiny form, her eyes widening as Michael took a measured step back to protect her once more. Looks were exchanged between the other men, Lady Ana shakily clinging to one as they all made more distance between themselves and the situation. Whispers were exchanged, but none reached your ears across the room as the energy started rising again, filling your ears and throat with the trembling, bassy sound of drums being thrashed upon by angry fists. It rattled your lungs, brought that flash of pain back to your brow, but whatever medicine you had been given earlier kept your stomach from rolling away yet again. Instead, an icy feeling settled where nausea would be, and you started getting a bad feeling that took the microphone instead. 

Lucas continued shouting, but his voice felt far away as your eyes instinctively traveled around the room, hairs on your arms standing on end. Something was shifting, you could feel it—the dark corners were seeping further, into ebony darkness and cold, icy air that made you shrink back against your will. Whispers had begun to manifest,  backwards and strange as you tried to decipher them. Without thinking, you reached out a hand to grip the Medicine Seller’s kimono, drawing his head back to look at you with quizzical yellow eyes.

“We wouldn’t be here in the first place if not for your air-headed daughter…!” Lucas was snarling, practically spraying spittle in Michael’s direction. “ If you would have just manned up and picked one of us as her god damn husband, instead of giving in to her whiny bullshit…!”

Marriage? You were trying to focus on what they were saying, head spinning around the room to try and pinpoint the source of the rising sensations ringing in your ears. In the confusion you didn’t even notice the wooden box next to the Medicine Seller rattling, or how he pressed his fingers to its surface in echoed anticipation. The doors of the room started to slide open and closed, snapping back and forth hard enough that you feared the wood would splinter, and yet Lucas still kept going. Unaware, eyes locked on a target and unable to perceive that his anger was affecting the room. Tables began shaking, chairs falling over, the chandelier above wildly swinging as if something hung from it like an acrobat in motion, all the while the Medicine Seller kept his eyes on you, waiting, observing, taking everything in as if you would somehow ring the warning bell, the starting whistle that would put everything into place.

Lucas continued as Michael protectively held onto Mai and his wife, shielding them as if waiting for the chandelier to come crashing down, “ If you didn’t raise such a selfish little brat none of us would be in this shitty, useless hotel…!”

That’s it. The catalyst. 

Wind whipped through the room at his words, screaming and colder than ice as it knocked down several of the diplomats and one screaming Lady Ana. You braced on the back booth as a rumble shook the room, even the Medicine Seller swaying lightly on his feet to keep balance, eyes luminous as darkness plunged over them. Your brain was swimming, swirling, looking, looking everywhere for the source, that dark energy from the lobby. There was so much movement all around, an ever constant flow of air like water filling up the space—no, wait. There was water rising at your feet. A gasp entered the air almost in unison, panic filling the guests as they scrambled to get on tables, chairs, anything to get out of the chilly liquid somehow accumulating in the pitch black room. You dared not move, dared not breathe as the water sloshed around the bottom of your yukata to your knees, feet going numb at the temperature and nostrils filled with the smell of brine. Even still, you tried to focus, think, see. 

Where is it?

What is it?

Show yourself to me. 

There. Your head jerked up at the sound of breathing from above, raspy and misshapen like lungs filled with water. Dark shapes slithered from the roof, barely visible in the dark despite their glowing, pale blue eyes, like dead fish staring back unblinking, unmoving. No…they were fish, you realized with a jolt up your spine. Feathered ribbons came from their heads, bodies almost eel-like in shape with silver, black spotted bodies . Oarfish . Ten or more twitching out of the ceiling as it’s mutual turned black and sloshing like tar, colors flashing in reds and blues as if an oil slick coated the surface. A heavy weight came crashing down, an almost physical force that sent everyone but you and the Medicine Seller to their knees. You grit your teeth at the sensation, struggling to stay upright as the whispers in your ears turned to screaming, wailing, claws scraping and the endless crash of waves along craggily rocks. It was so overwhelming you could barely breathe, one hand still tightly wound in the Medicine Seller’s robe as you tried to shout through the noise.

“Above…!” 

The Medicine Seller’s head snapped up at your command, yellow eyes widening at the sight of the creatures worming their way into the room. You felt it the moment they sprang free, one large fish shooting out like a spear at Lucas, frozen to the spot. And all other going for the people in the room. 

Attacking. People were going to die. 

The Medicine Seller was faster than you, leaping in one bound onto the table as something snapped out of his wooden box and into his awaiting hand. He bound across the table tops in a flash of spinning kimono sleeves, geta sandals somehow quiet with each movement as he held more of the ofuda in one hand, and something else in the other. You were struggling to identify it in the dark—remicent of a sword hilt, but no sword? He tucked it into the band of his clothes, snapping his attention between the creatures as water continued to rise around him, talisman soaring from his fingertips to stick to each wall of the room in precise, even rows. So many that you couldn’t keep track, the fish screaming in agitation as they began to glow with symbols and runes you knew well from training—spiritual protection, malice to earthbound spirits. Many of the fish started thrashing, breaking things, smashing tables and sending people screaming as they plunged into the cold water. All the while, the Medicine Seller kept pace, stopping some from lashing at the patrons, his eyes calm and cool in the darkness of the dining room.

But there were so many to keep track of. The largest of the group had grown enraged with the interference, pale white eyes searching for its next target as the Medicine Seller kept in step with its counterparts. You saw the moment its gaze latched on Mai, and the coiling, springing response of its streamlined body as it streaked towards her, mouth opening in a way that was most certainly not normal to an oarfish. A scream froze in your throat, watching Mai’s face crumble into horror, her father knocked away in the commotion and Lady Tomoko clinging onto a nearby pillar, unable to reach her. The creature’s maw was open wide enough to engulf her entire waist, filled with razor sharp teeth that jutted out unnaturally from a mouth that leaked pure black liquid in fat, rolling gobs into the water below.

This wasn’t the first time you had to fight something like this, but somehow things felt different.

Rage filled you, white hot and searing through your lungs and body as it moved, almost without thinking to throw yourself in front of Mai. A talisman manifested in your hand in the next second, feeling like a red hot iron between each finger as your arm shot out to slam it into the Oarfish’s throat. It screamed, the sound rumbling the whole room like an earthquake, so loud that your eardrums begged for relief. So loud, so angry. Its whispers were long gone, turning into razor blades that threatened to break your hearing entirely with the sheer, raw intensity of its fury. Steadfast you remained, feeling that coiling, roiling energy serpentine through your body, lighting up each limb in searing pain, one you were familiar with. You could feel it now, so close—a tether to this creature, one that slipped through your fingers like sand, so close yet so far away as you sought to wrangle it. Over and over your energy surged, a commanding force that penetrated the oarfish like a blade, pulsing and pivoting, rolling and plunging with enough force to make the creature scream like it was being killed by a fish monger. 

“Subjugate yourself to me.” Your voice commanded in an otherworldly hiss, reverberating with the implications as it reached the creature’s ears. It wailed in response, trying to rear back, but remaining stuck to the talisman in your hand as it glowed a bright red.

“ Subjugate yourself to me.”

“Subjugate…!” 

Subjugate.

To. 

Me. 

You didn’t recognize yourself in that moment, voice a hiss of power and rage as the rumbling grew louder. A mix of images flashed through your head in the chaos, some your memories, some foreign. Your mother, weeping as she stared out at a cloudless sky, a slash in the Earth, deep and dark, the blood on your hands the night your mother was slaughtered, and the cool, cold sensation of being dropped into the dark, one hand outstretched and reaching for a steadily departing sky. Your eyes widened at the flood, irises turning black and that deep, tar-ish liquid seeping down your cheeks like tears. Pain, hurting, hunger— These emotions were not your own, they belonged to someone else, the echoes of a life ended and the writhing of a tether finally, blessedly coiling around your fingertips. There it existed for such a brief second, bringing with it a rolling wave of anguish, a bounty of feeling, darkness and misery, before it began pulling back to the sea.

The connection snapped in the next instant, leaving you stumbling away in shock as the Oarfish reared back with a hollow shriek, hands desperately wiping away the pitch black fluid from your cheeks. It and the others went plunging back into the ceiling as if the air was water, the sound like metal searing through wood. Mai covered her ears behind you, letting out a cry of alarm as the room rumbled again, then sank back into silence. A silence so profound that you wondered for a moment if you had gone unconscious, as the room was still pitch black and disorienting.

Then the lanterns came back on.

There was no more water filling the room. Tables and chairs littered the space as if an explosive had gone off, many of the patrons still on the ground or pressed to the wall with varying, horrified expressions. Mai’s parents rushed to pick her up off the floor, holding her between them as she wept out of fear and shock, you still shakily standing in front of her with a half-burned talisman in your fist.

The only one staring at you was the Medicine Seller. His eyes alight with burning curiosity, so intense that you felt for a moment that it might set you ablaze. In the lighting now you could see what appeared to be a sword hilt in one hand, intricately designed with gold trimming over red wood, sporting a monstrous head at one end. Something gave you the indication that both were watching you, the sword’s eyes most certainly moving in rapid little twitches as its teeth chattered in a strange, almost excitable manner that filled the silence of the room.

You collapsed in the next instant, hands still burning and yukata shockingly dry.

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Sorry about no friday chapter, work became hell and im dying hahaaaaaaa kill me

[spirit-of-the-void]

Mononoke Fanfic : The Saturated Iris

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Chapter 3: Act One, Part 3: Lantern Oil

The Medicine Seller was out of the room in the next instant, practically leaving a dust cloud in his shape behind. You scrambled out of the bed, eyes just barely adjusted enough to see the outline of the oil lamp nearby and whatever obstacles in the room that needed to be avoided. Lords above, you hadn’t even seen him grab his strange box or the trinkets, but everything was gone, leaving you disoriented and annoyed as you ran after him, lighting the lamp with matches as you went. The dim orange glow of the lantern was only a mild reprieve from the dark, casting somehow even deeper shadows on the corridor and giving the traditional artwork an ominous backdrop. It was painfully quiet, the only sound being your stumbling footfalls as you tried to tug your shoes on with one hand, holding the light in the other. Your eyes darted around, looking for an unperceived threat but seeing absolutely nothing yet. Despite that, the charms left on the corridor entrance had clearly felt something, as they were in the process of fluttering to the ground in piles of ashes, used and gone.

You grit your teeth at the sight, practically taking the staircase in two bounds in an attempt to get down faster. Already there was commotion leaking through the halls from the lobby, voices raised and worried tones lacing with the reverberating thunder and hissing rain. You followed the sound, one hand trailing the wallpaper of the hallway to try and get a feel for what was going on. Buzzing energy, whispered words that made no sense, howling. It made a headache start blooming on your left eyebrow, a wince flickering across your express and hand twitch away from the wall to rub that spot. As if it would help. So distracted in what was going on, you didn’t notice something on the floor and practically tripped over it, gaze cast down at the sound of a familiar jingle meeting your ears through the general racket.

Scales, the Medicine Seller’s to be exact. About five of them lined the floor in the path to the lobby, still standing perfectly poised and steady despite your toe absolutely devastating one, even bowing slightly as if perfectly sentient enough to greet you. It only added to the confusion of the situation, mingling with the curiosity and exasperation from earlier. There were no indicators as to what was going on, and the weirdo was already throwing more chaos and disarray into the mix–which would have been infuriating if you weren’t so damn curious as to what the hell he was trying to do. Your jaw tightened, head swimming with noise, pain, and exhaustion as you side stepped them, glaring at the little things as if they were somehow sentient and connected to the Medicine Seller himself. The beaded curtain of the lobby entrance slid past your body like a cool caress, but so busy as you were trying not to step on any of the scales that you ran headfirst into someone’s back, a shocked grunt leaving your lips and one hand instinctively reaching forward to brace on the banister in front of you both.

Of course it was the Medicine Seller. You jolted back from him in an instant, eyes darting up to catch his head slowly turning back to level those luminous eyes upon you. His wooden box sat beside him next to the railing, the lobby dark below save for a few dim lanterns casting flickering, orange light along the ground and furniture, but it wasn’t quite bright enough to illuminate the space. Even the Medicine Seller was barely visible in the light, which is why you probably ran headfirst into him. It was odd–-a strange part of your brain was convinced he glowed in the dark somehow, it didn’t make sense that all those bright colors wouldn’t make a difference if light wasn’t present. Although the darkness felt relieving considering the flush of warmth across your cheeks after running into him, as your brain was quick to catch on little details that definitely did not matter considering the situation. Like the texture of his kimono, the soft exhalation of air that left him when you stumbled against his body, the warmth. You chased those thoughts away with a metaphorical broom, swatting at them like pesky rodents and hoping they would stay gone until whatever the hell was happening ended up resolved. 

“Oh, pardon me.” The Medicine Seller hummed, politely stepping aside so you could look over the railing as well into the lobby below. Something about the unflinchingly calm look in his eyes only made you feel huffier for getting embarrassed, stepping up next to him and holding up the lantern so he could see your look of annoyance.

“What the hell is going on?” Your voice came low and sharp, whipping out like a javelin as his eyes drifted back to the scene below, “You ran off, your little scales are all over the hallway, and still you’ve explained nothing –”

“Y/N! ”

Your words cut off at the sound of Mai’s voice calling from below, sounding relieved as your gaze darted to where she stood. Still in night clothes, holding up a lantern with those dancing lights casting worried shadows over her face. Next to her stood her parents–Michael and Tomoko, both also looking as if they were roused from sleep to be in this situation. Her father was, on all accounts, rather boring looking for a man, and you certainly didn’t miss the expression that twitched across his face if only for a moment at the sight of you. Neither he nor you had forgotten what occurred with your mother, and his disdain for it was quite clear even in that shared moment of confusion and worry. Tomoko was ever kind, ever beautiful. She was definitely an older version of your friend in terms of looks, the smile offered up to you accompanied by fine little wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. Her eyes were warm, albeit anxious as she stood by the others in the dark, lantern held aloft with one shaking hand. 

You let out a sigh of relief that at least nothing was visibly wrong yet, save for people being in the lobby in the first place. But your eyes did not miss the movement to your left, just catching the Medicine Seller’s hand drifting over his bizarre wooden box in something akin to a caress of anticipation. The box rattled as if responding to his touch, just enough that the little handles hanging off of it twanged metallically, drawers shivering as if aching to be opened. Your eyes widened a little because yeah, that was super weird, and the man in question seemed utterly unaware that you had noticed that little exchange in the first place. 

Without thinking, you reached out a hand, grabbing him by the collar of the kimono and tugging him towards the stairs. It was oddly satisfying to see the startled shift of his expression, painted on eyebrows raised and irises darting back to you with an almost boyish surprise as he stumbled backwards to accommodate.

“You’re coming with me,” You said firmly, leaving no room for argument as you stomped along step by step, “Now is not a good time for you to be ominously standing around not helping.”

Not that he knew how to do anything but that. 

To your annoyed surprise, the Medicine Seller seemed nonplussed by your show of force, settling back into a good-natured smile and simply allowing you to tug him along as he purred, “Oh…? Am I…?”

You could have rolled your eyes into the sun. Which wasn’t going to be out for several hours yet. He almost seemed to be enjoying this, equal parts perplexed by your actions but utterly content to be totted along and manhandled as you released the hold on his collar, following now like an obedient puppy. Your brain briefly offered up the notion that perhaps he was some weirdo that liked being bullied, but somehow that was doubtful despite everything–-no, this one had the energy of enjoying little surprises, or not knowing what to expect. Like you declared before, if he was going to be a mystery to you, you would be a mystery right back. The Medicine Seller was, almost to an obvious degree, enthralled by the behavior you exhibited, as if he expected either fear, revulsion, or hesitation, which you refused to give on all three fronts.

The lobby was somehow even colder than the rooms above had been. You visibly shuddered at the creeping, almost painful chill that tap danced up your spine, drawing your Yukata up tighter as you quickly closed the gap between you and Mai. She was visibly shivering, but at the very least a large, western style coat had been draped over her shoulder, Lady Tomoko donning one of similar style, but a different color. 

“What’s going on?” You asked, hand steady where it held the lantern aloft between you and her family, “The power is out, but why is everyone gathered here?”

Mai’s face scrunched up a bit with worry, on hand reaching out to grip the sleeve of her father’s night clothes as she replied quietly, “Lady Ana’s husband went missing, and…well…”

“All the staff is gone as well,” Michael, her father, cut in sharply, his face a mask of irritation and agitation as he pulled away to walk toward the main desk again, “Hell, half the bloody hotel is gone! I’m going to try the phones again, they have to come back at some point!”

Lady Tomoko sighed at that, drawing closer to you and Mai to place a hand on either of your shoulders. Her hand was warm, familiar–-it was reminiscent of your mother, slightly bittersweet, yet wistful, enough that your stomach twisted slightly in remembrance as you offered her a somewhat grim smile in return. Hell, she still did her nails the same way your mother did, same color, same scent oil dabbed on her wrist that brought a wave of nostalgia and grief deep from the pits of your chest, right where the memories liked to sit and dig their claws in. 

“Thank you for being here, sweetheart,” Lady Tomoko murmured, sight drifting to where an older woman was being comforted by a couple of the western men, quietly weeping and sniffling into a handkerchief, “Lady Ana claimed that, as they were getting ready for bed, her husband Charles disappeared, she hasn’t been able to find him since.”

And the staff was gone too? You looked around the lobby, grimacing at all the bedrolls left abandoned from the crew working earlier, cups of sake left forgotten and no sign of where the men went. Surely they wouldn’t go outside during a storm like this? Hell, there was still fresh food left half eaten, dropped as if the men themselves had been swallowed into nothing right where they were sitting. You took a moment to start counting heads in the room, taking note of each person present as if keeping a catalog–-ten in total excluding you, three being Mai and her parents, one being Lady Ana, four being diplomats from the west, one being what appeared to be a cook from the kitchen, and finally a rather nervous looking native man who was pacing around the group like a startled deer. Wait, not ten–-eleven including the Medicine Seller, who you looked back at quickly to gauge his unreadable expression. Your eyes met again as everyone quietly chattered around you, both trying to read each other and get a feel for what the other was thinking. He was so difficult to understand, especially when that coy little smile widened ever so slightly, eyelids lowering as if the Medicine Seller was having a delightful little time, as if this was all somehow enjoyable in that moment.

Excitement? You couldn’t quite tell. 

“Oh?” His voice came low and bemused, drawing the attention of Lady Tomoko and Mai as the strange man looked around the lobby in a mock display of incredulousness. “I was told your Inn was booked solid for the evening, the lobby full to bursting. And yet now there seems to be a lack of inhabitants–-tell me…have any of you checked in on the other guests in order to establish that none of them have mysteriously vanished as well?”

Lady Tomoko frowned, and you realized instantly that she and Michael were not present for the commotion earlier, and were most likely uninformed about the stranger sharing your room.

“I beg your pardon, but… who are you?” She asked him, instinctively stepping between you, Mai, and your roommate as if he was a dog that was about to start barking.

That was starting to feel like a loaded question. 

As expected, his response was word for word the same as it was before. He bowed from the waist slightly to Lady Tomoko, pale hair draped slightly and lips curved into an agreeable smile as he reintroduced himself, “I am merely a Medicine Seller, my lady, here to offer my aid.”

His words were silky and pleasant, as if dripping with honey and warmth meant to allure one into trusting him. It wasn’t quite phony–-the word itself didn’t exactly feel correct. You could sense your skull rattling around like a drawer being searched, trying to find the correct description for how he acted, how he carried himself. The Medicine Seller did not appear cold, neither his eyes nor the persona he presented to the general public. In many ways, he felt like a ball of quivering anticipation and excitement ready to burst, as if his eyes were alight with unspoken intensity that did not leak into the entrancing manner in which he spoke. You were starting to look there on instinct, watching how his lashes lowered, eyes narrowing, muscles moving in tandem to just barely convey emotions from all the colorful markings he wore. It was disarming to realize how much the little painted curve of his purple upper lip masked whatever displeasure could be shown in his expression, or anger if it was present.

Lady Tomoko was speaking again, but you found yourself oddly distracted examining the Medicine Seller. Why did you not notice before that his ears had an odd shape? More pointed, less rounded, like the depictions of inhuman creatures and devils you had seen in books and paintings. Your head tilted without thinking as you observed him standing straight again, hair settling back and just barely covering his ears with just the tips sticking out. Ever perplexing, ever strange. Also, when had he put his sandals back on? The man was towering again, and for some reason you found that far more annoying than was reasonable, wishing that at least one aspect of him was easily identifiable instead of mysterious. The thematic nature was wearing thin, especially with the stress lingering in the room like a cloud over the twelve people hovering around in it. 

Focus, think. The Medicine Seller was the least of everyone's concerns considering that several dozens of people had vanished in the middle of the night.

You clapped your hands to get everyone’s attention, all eyes turning in an instant and voices quieting as you announced loudly, “We need to focus–-from this point onward, we should assess the situation and maybe start checking to see just how many guests are missing. Just to be sure that the people in this room are the only ones left in the hotel."

One of the diplomats let out a disagreeable rumble, eyes unfriendly as they landed on your person, “Do you honestly expect us to go around and check? My brother and his wife are gone, my wife–!”

“I understand that sir,” You interjected, adding a little frost to your own words as you shot him a rather stiff stare.  “However, I wasn’t implying we should check–if this many people are missing already, there must be a reason for it. Do you think any of those people simply stepped outside?”

Lady Tomoko shook her head, eyes troubled as she raised a yukata sleeve to her mouth, “The storm outside is far too dangerous, we didn’t check but…it isn’t safe for that many people to have left unnoticed.”

Your lips turned downwards at the maintained claim that everyone simply just…vanished, free hand lightly pressing to your lips as each thought tried to overtake another, spinning as if one would finally stick and make things appear normal, explainable. The energy in the room certainly wasn’t making things easier to read, not when there was so much anxiety, fear, and anger rattling around like primal drums, to the point that the back of your head was starting to ache. You started rubbing at it absentmindedly, still looking around the darkness of the room like some sort of clue was going to jump out and make itself known. Bed rolls, abandoned sake, food, belongings, shoes. Who would go out into the weather poorly dressed, bare feet, money left behind and no umbrellas? And if they didn’t leave of their own free will, that left two options: One, they were hiding somewhere inside the hotel, which felt completely implausible considering how many were gone, and how much those present had searched for their loved ones. Or two…something unnatural was occurring, something that could not be explained by normal premises.

Your eyes flickered to Michael at the thought, watching him angrily keep fiddling with the phone and searching around the desk to no avail. He wouldn’t buy a supernatural explanation, you knew that all too well. A sick, angry little part of your brain still wondered just what lies he told himself to justify what happened with your mother.

“Why doesn’t everyone introduce themselves?” The Medicine Seller’s voice drew your attention back to him, all others in the room following suit and staring at him incredulously, “Perhaps that might enlighten as to why the people in this room are still present, instead of vanishing like the others?”

Honestly, that was the most reasonable suggestion that could have come out of him. But one of the men behind you seemed agitated by the request, mouth curved into a sneer as he took in the Medicine Seller’s appearance, from head to toe in a single sweep of disgust.

“I’m not taking orders from some freak in women’s clothing!” He snapped, spraying a bit of spittle and getting rather red in the area above his beard. “I don’t owe any of you a damn thing, I’m getting the hell out of here…!”

That certainly got Michael’s attention, his head snapping up with clear distress in his expression. You paid it little mind, temper flaring as you put yourself between the aggressor and the Medicine Seller as if your meager stature was of any intimidation. 

“Do you honestly think shouting and insulting people will help anything?” Your tone came out lower and calmer than even you could expect, eyes like fire in the lantern light coming from below, “If we all cooperate and try to–”

A hand shot out quicker than expected from the unfamiliar man, earning a gasp from Mai and Tomoko as you were violently shoved backwards. Your teeth gnashed hard at the sharp bloom of pain in your shoulder as a result, half expecting to go sprawling out on the floor at the applied momentum, but surprised to find it never came. The Medicine Seller quickly stepped up behind you as the man moved, bracing with both hands on your shoulders and quickly pulling your body back from the aggressor before he tried anything else, saving you from a rather nasty fall to the hardwood floor. A shuddering breath rattled out of your chest at the almost burning ache left behind in your left shoulder blade, shock flitting through you at his reaction so much that you found yourself rooted to the spot, stunned. It was hard to forget how men could be at times, but most days you would have been able to sense that coming violence and move out of the way. There was just…too much in the room, all at once, making your sense swim too much to pick out anything. 

“ Hey!” Mai snapped, absolutely furious as she lunged forward at the man. She was stopped only by your pure instinct to grab her arm, holding her back like an angry, hissing cat. “ You bastard! Apologize to her at once!” 

You grimaced at the force it took to keep her at bay, stomach starting to churn with nausea at the surge of sound and energy that came as a result. Anger, loud, clashing cymbals and shrinking string-instruments. 

You were grateful when Michael and Lady Tomoko stepped in, her father practically lifting her up by the waist like a toddler and pulling her back from the red faced man.

“ Control your offspring, Alford! ” The westerner snapped, hands drawn up in tight fists at his side as the room’s aggression kept spiking.

That was the first time you had seen Michael genuinely furious at one of his benefactors, eyes blazing as he set his daughter down and swung around to glare at the men present, minus the Medicine Seller. You were feeling a bit dazed and unwell by that point, maybe the mix of pain and confusion from everything happening in the room, but you were almost positive his hands were still on your shoulders, steadying you, grounding you. Warm while the air felt cold, close enough that each breath that left his lips slightly stirred your hair like a warm caress. You could hear it faintly, rising over the white noise and quieting all the chaos, the wind flute melody humming so quietly, so breathy on the horizon. You tried to focus on that, eyes squeezing shut in an attempt to let the headache simmer down, hoping that it was enough to push the rest of the nonsense away, if just for a moment. The Medicine Seller’s gaze was practically tangible as it stared down at you, his lips tipped down ever so slightly, barely discernible considering the constant smile of his makeup. But you could sense his displeasure with the situation, and the manner in which was absorbing information felt…methodical, as if every spoken word and every facial expression was being noted off.

The others in the room sort of faded in that moment. Mai shouting at the man who shouted back, the pacing stranger getting closer and closer to the door, as if meaning to bolt, Lady Tomoko holding a sleeve to her mouth and seeming on the verge of tears. You tried to let it all make distance, eyes flickering shut as you attempted to focus on wasn’t overwhelming. The Medicine Seller, behind you, his kimono folds draped against your shoulders, hands firm but not painful where they rested. Each breath, counting–you could almost hear his heartbeat, trying to beg your own to match the tempo instead of trying to take off like a panicked sparrow. If at least he could remain calm in this madness, you felt like it was completely acceptable for you to try and do the same. Mai was a good friend, but right now she was adding to the fight, and her temper would continue being a detriment if things didn’t start calming down. You didn’t know this man, not really, but…something was compelling you to trust in him, in his ability to handle this nonsense.

You could feel him lean down, lips by your ear as your eyes remained shut. As if he was sensing that there was more to what was going on, that something was plaguing you. You could imagine the curve of his lips, the flash of canines as they parted to quietly speak to you, and you alone.

“Tell me what you are feeling–” He murmured, yellow eyes still trained on the group that failed to pay attention to the exchange between himself and you, “In the air, in the ground, in the room.”

For a moment, your body tensed. You didn’t usually discuss your “feelings” with anyone other than Mai, knowing full well what the claim of being able to sense energy through sound would come across like. How was he able to tell that you were experiencing something the others weren’t? How much did his eyes see, perceive, pluck from each and every mannerism you thought were innocuous? But you could feel it still, lingering in your chest, that compulsion to tell him, to trust him in what you rarely trusted with anyone. Part of you was starting to wonder if he wasn’t human, worried in some distant part of your mind that all of this could have been his doing, that they were all at the whims of some coy trickster there to sew torment. Yet, the intuitive part of your brain resisted that notion, pulling you in an entirely different direction like an exhausting game of tug-o-war. Reason versus instinct, logic versus the intuition you had long since learned to trust in times like this.

A shuddering breath left your lungs, eyes slowly opening to take in the darkness of the room. Letting it sink in, letting your senses absorb all of it despite how your ears began to ring.

“I…” Your voice was quiet, almost imperceivable below the noise of shouting and anger, “I can feel…sound. Anger, frustration, fear–in the air, the ground, the room itself, it’s…bursting with it, like an overflowing glass.”

A hum left the Medicine Seller, his hands ever so slightly squeezing your shoulders as if encouraging you onward and he whispered, “Beyond that, underneath.”

Underneath? Your lips twitched into a grimace, stretching your sense even further than usual. Like trying to flip over a mattress, twisting and coiling around the room in a way that gave you immediate vertigo. Your body swayed forward, he held you upright, head still by your shoulder and body aligned perfectly with your back like a brace.

You grit your teeth hard enough that you feared they would crack, feeling an unsettling sensation of being watched slip up your spine. Something creeped from the dark corners of the room, presence heavy and almost nauseating the more you tried to understand it. Coiling, swimming, beady eyes wide and ever seeing, sound that backwards screaming of violin strings and wailed cries, mourning whispers and half choked prayers. You felt your face pale, both you and the Medicine Seller turning to look at the same time at a particular corner of the room, feeling a rising sense of danger like an air raid siren screaming through the room. There, where the light did not touch, you could feel it– Something unseen, something putrid lie in wait, watching and coiling. Its energy felt like bile, dark and briny in a way that made the back of your throat taste like salt water and metal. It coursed through your clenched fingers like dark, wet sand, traveled along each joint in your body like barbed wire, like a curse trying to take hold in the deepest parts of your flesh. Even the air felt heavy to breathe, as if caked in water, icy cold and deep in the depths of the ocean where monstrous things lie in wait.

You instinctively took a step back, bumping into the Medicine Seller with a gag caught in your throat. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw one of his hands quickly raise, summoning a flash of white as if from thin air– ofuda, you realized with a jolt of surprise, watching the paper slip talisman take shape in a flick of his wrist, held firm in his grasp as he placed that hand in front of you, using the other to pull you half behind him. You swayed at the motion, finally managing to gag as you gripped the back of his kimono for an ounce of stability. If the Medicine Seller had any qualms with you grabbing onto him, they were not voiced, and his vivid yellow eyes held onto that dark corner with intensity. 

The rest of the room remained ignorant to what was happening, caught up in their own nonsense as whatever took form in the corner coiled in on itself. You could have sworn you saw a flash of scales in the dark, ribbon-like tendrils gently drifting before whatever it was vanished into the floor, taking its rancid energy with it. Immediately its weight lifted from your shoulders, and the sensation of suffocating in your own lungs became a relieving, dull ache. You inhaled sharply, managing to cough out a wheezing gasp and praying that the food complaining in your stomach stayed there, as you didn’t particularly want to throw up in front of all these people. It certainly had been a while since you felt anything that overwhelmingly foul, and as a result your body was entirely unaccustomed to the sensation, struggling to settle back and pull away from the lingering feelings left behind by the thing hovering in the darkness. Hell, you were almost embarrassed at yourself–you had panicked, crumbled, and shared something with a stranger that would have usually been left unspoken, and relied on someone almost shamelessly. That wasn’t like you.

The Medicine Seller lowered the talisman the moment the darkness receded, straightening his spine and turning back to look at you with lowered eyelids. Christ, what was that expression? You fought the urge to shamefully look away like a chastised child, still feeling ready to drop from whatever the fuck had just been in the room.

“You could see it,” He spoke to you, the words not a question, “The Mononoke.”

Mononoke? That word was so familiar, but you couldn’t dredge up the memory of where it came from at the moment, nor what it meant.

“I…yes,” You replied, clearing your throat as if it would somehow help with how raw it felt, “I saw, I felt…it.”

The talisman vanished from his hand, the Medicine Seller looking rather intrigued by your words as he leaned down once more. It was almost funny in the moment to think of his stupid sandals, and how that wouldn’t be as necessarily if he wasn’t wearing them. You weren’t used to being loomed over in that manner, and found your heart practically racing at the sensation of him staring at you from under his black eyelashes. Annoyance flashed through you, as if to cope with the lingering nausea and distress, latching onto itself like a lifeline in a means of retaining your dignity.

“If you don’t back up–” You managed through gritted teeth, realizing you were still holding his kimono and immediately letting go as if it were on fire. “I will throw up on you, mark my words.”

That wasn’t an empty threat, and judging by the way his mouth slightly curved up in response, the Medicine Seller was a bit amused by your honesty. He took a very pronounced, very obedient step back. Smart of him. But you didn’t miss the flicker of intensity in his eyes, still seeking information and mingling with the familiar emotion of…worry? Surely that wasn’t right.

“Y/N…?” 

Mai’s voice drew your attention back to the crowd, where she was now realizing that something was wrong and had abandoned her angry tirade. She hurried over to your side, taking in your pallor, your expression and the way your hand trembled where it held your forehead in an attempt to dull the ache. You didn’t remember dropping the lantern, but it was sitting on the ground, luckily upright and still mildly flickering with orange light. Thank god it hadn’t shattered and started a fire, you didn’t know how much more nonsense this group could take without snapping.

“Are you alright?!” Mai worriedly looked over you, putting an arm around your waist and hurriedly shuffling you towards a chair, “What happened?! You look awful, I didn’t even notice, I’m so sorry, so–”

You shook your head at that, still fighting the bile threatening to overflow as you mumbled, “Mai, it’s fine, I’m fine.”

She continued to fret, eyes swimming with tears as she babbled about her temper, about the man who had hurt you. But that didn’t last long, not with more commotion stirring up near the door. Whoever the pacing man was had finally reached his limit in terms of what he could handle, which was pathetic all things considered. Your previous predictions about him bolting like a startled deer were confirmed as he started hyperventilating, running both hands through his hair and letting out a sound of distress that got all the attention in the room swiveling to his direction, conflicts forgotten. He started running for the main doors, the sound of the storm waiting just beyond clearly of little consequence as he dove for the two handles to wretch them open, eyes wide and wild in a way that indicated a shattered mental state. You didn’t know him–but judging by how he was acting, the stranger was not equipped to handle this much stress all at once, and had crumbled like a wet piece of tissue paper at the first opportunity to do so. 

“ I’m getting the hell out of this place…!” He screamed, voice cracking and breaking in sheer distress as he yanked one of the doors with all his might, “ I’ll take my chances with the damn storm!!”

Several people rushed forward to stop him, Michael shouting at him to calm down and trying to head the front of the pack. But none could reach him before he pulled the door open, wind rushing inside like a roaring train and bringing with it bands of rain and debris that whipped across the wooden floors of the lobby. The distressed man was immediately drenched in the process, still shouting and hyperventilating nonsense as he was pushed back by the wind, eyes squeezing shut and hands holding onto that handle for dear life. Honestly, you would have doubted any other day that a man of his body type could be blown away, but the storm outside was far stronger and more terrifying than any you had witnessed. Mai practically covered your body with her own as hot, wet air spun around the room like a wind tunnel, blowing up yukatas and kimonos and sending the Medicine Seller’s hair whipping out behind him as he witnessed the spectacle with narrowed eyes.

Lady Ana let out a scream through the roaring sound, collapsing to the ground and beginning to sob incoherent prayers that not even you could decipher. You felt your lungs rattle, eyes trying to see through the spraying rain and wind what had frightened her, what had all the men halting in place and staring out the open door. Even the hysterical, deer-like man had frozen like a statue where he held onto the door handle, eyes impossibly wide in shock and mouth hanging open as if begging oxygen to enter his lungs. 

Your vision focused, body standing straighter as you gripped onto Mai’s arm for dear life. She followed your gaze with frightened eyes, sucking in a sharp breath and staring out the doorway with terror and incomprehension. 

The ocean had come to the steps of the Inn.

You struggled to wrap your head around it, being on a mountain, being at the highest elevation of any of the buildings in the town. Even if the ocean had spilled its banks onto the town, even if it had rained for several days and nights, it still would have never reached this high onto the mountain side. And yet…there the water was, dark and roiling mere feet from the lobby doors, where you and Mai had cheerfully walked mere hours ago. It wasn’t possible, it wasn’t–you couldn’t see anything past it, as if the Inn itself had become an island in the middle of an expansive, endless sea. No trees, no horizon, no houses. Everything had been swallowed under the angry, thrashing waves, and all that remained below was darkness that not even the brightest light would penetrate.  All that existed now was the water, the storm, and the void. Even if you tried to leave the Inn and retreat, that possibility was no longer available for the twelve people standing within the lobby, staring as lightning crackled across the sky and the ocean continued its mocking dance along the cobbled steps of the hotel.

Mai’s lips trembled, opening so faintly that you could barely hear her whimper, “B…but that’s not…possible…”

You couldn’t find the words to reply, knowing full well that nothing that could be said would improve what was happening.

You felt the Medicine Seller step forward to your right, his eyes still locked on the scene unfolding. There, you could see his lips twitch into a smile of anticipation, excitement widening his eyes as he flashed those sharp canines as if aching to sink them into something.

“I see this Mononoke isn’t taking its time.” He hissed, eyes looking wild in a way that made your stomach flip into your chest. Not anxiety this time, more like…awe. 

What a sight he was, gazing out at the storm, like a cat who finally caught sight of his prey.

~~~

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Next chapter out Friday loves <3 Godspeed

[spirit-of-the-void]

Mononoke Fanfic: The Saturated Iris

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Chapter 2: Act One, Part 2: The First Rain

The rain was coming in buckets once you left dinner with Mai, hallway lights flickering ominously with each howling gust of wind overtaking the coast. Many of the Inn’s guests were settling in for the night, and you took stock of them while eating and passing by. Firstly, of course, were the Western diplomats–about six men in total, all ranging in body type from plump to rail thin, stocky and short to tall enough that an occasional head whacked on a hanging bit of décor. You didn’t care enough to gather their names yet, especially not while they were being particularly rowdy at dinner. Instead, you made mental notes of the families attending, and those who were there for shelter instead of leisure. Some families had cooks helping out in the kitchen, leading to a rather extraordinary spread of food to partake in despite the nature of the storm and flickering electricity. You and Mai were both so enamored with the food that little was spoken about, despite the gleam of mischief in your friend’s pale grey eyes and the obvious elephant in the room. The elephant in question had, oddly, not come to dinner with everyone else, you had noticed. After setting up in the room, you were fairly certain he hadn’t left at all, which would be fine if not for the obvious need of food and water. Perhaps he didn’t feel welcome amongst others after the incident mere hours ago? He wasn’t exactly given a chance to truly talk earlier, but you remained pondering, uncertain, and painfully curious.

Regardless of that, you had wrapped an assortment of rice balls in cloth to bring him, just to be kind. It wasn’t in your nature to let people go hungry, not if you could help it. Especially considering how little time was actually spent, you know, talking to him? You had barely managed to show the room and get him a bedroll before being dragged away by Mai to go eat and meet her parents. Which never happened, due to the both of them being busy entertaining other guests in some other part of the hotel. You didn’t mind–it was weird being around Michael considering how much your mother hated his guts, and he wasn’t exactly ignorant to that fact in the time she was alive. It made for a rather strained, uncomfortable meeting, and to be entirely honest after that uphill walk combined with a long train ride? A quiet, delicious dinner was perfectly ideal over tight lipped smiles and painfully boring small talk. Instead of spending that dinner sweating like a sinner in church, you and Mai took a chance to peacefully catch up on time, leaving with full, happy bellies and the audible sound of rain pounding against the Inn’s walls. It was oddly serene, all things considered.

The walk back to your room was dimly lit and quiet, Mai clutching an oil lamp in one hand just in case the electricity went fully out. Which was to be expected. But that was of little concern now, not with Mai’s eyes burning holes into you, gleaming with curiosity and mirth as she waited for the hallways to calm a bit, so you could have more privacy to speak. You could already feel a sigh welling up in your chest, but held it in for the sake of not coming across as regretful and whiny. Because you weren’t. 

“...So,” When Mai finally started, you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, pretending to be preoccupied with a yukata sleeve as she giggled, “Sharing your room with a stranger? I didn’t think you were the type to extend a hand of aid to a man.”

You shrugged at that, playfully elbowing her side and barking in rebuttal, “You agreed with it, so I don’t know what you’re teasing me about.”

Then again, you both knew full well that Mai would agree to just about anything for the sake of entertainment. It wasn’t often you got to spend time with her, and moments like these left her reckless, eager to agree, and even more eager to fish information and reactions out of you. On one hand, she was right–usually you wouldn’t have bothered, walked away and let the stranger figure things out for himself. But…something was oddly compelling you to keep digging, to keep interacting. Which was most certainly not in the norm, but considering the nature of your visit it would be foolish not to find a smidge of entertainment somehow. Maybe that was what that amounted to, just some dumb means of keeping busy and informed in the hopes that whatever Mai suspected was wrong. 

“So what’s the deal with that anyway?” Mai continued talking, sounding genuinely curious now as you started walking up the stairs to the second floor, “Did you get swayed by a pretty face, you of all people Y/N?"

That definitely earned an eye roll from you, droll as they met the mirth reflecting back from Mai’s, “Please. I’m honestly just curious about him–-did you notice he didn’t actually introduce himself? At all? Even when he signed the room log next to mine, he wrote ‘Medicine Seller’ instead of an actual name.”

Mai grinned, “He did have such neat handwriting though. And pretty hands!”

“Focus, Mai.”

Your friend laughed at that, absolutely shameless as she practically leapt up to the final step at the top of the stairs, tugging you forward with a huff of annoyance. James was no longer chaperoning your little duo, so Mai was definitely feeling a bit more bold. More like herself, less like the hotel owners’ daughter. The little buns on her head bobbed cheerfully despite the strange, almost melancholic feeling the hallways of the Inn held, coupled with the eerie wind rattling from outside and the occasional rumble of thunder. The vibes of this establishment were, unfortunately, even worse at night. Every touch of your hand along the wallpaper of the surrounding walls sent a shiver up your spine akin to the screeching of incorrect violin strings, vibrating with something you couldn’t quite identify. It left a lump in your throat that was hard to clear, and an unsettling cold that lingered on each floor despite the obvious warmth outside. So much in fact that you found yourself drawing up the Yukata hanging off your shoulders many times to avoid getting goosebumps on your arms. 

Something…definitely felt off. Mai mentioned that would be the case.

She continued chattering as you traveled down the hallway towards your room, oblivious to you slipping a piece of paper out of your pocket and quietly tucking it into the sliding paper door to the corridor. Symbols reflected back in black ink that quickly became hidden against the backdrop of traditional artwork, just a little something to watch over the passageway you would be walking through every day. A precaution. It felt almost blasphemous to do so with so many Christian crosses hung around the Inn, almost in excess. You were tempted to start counting them, and start doing shots of sake for every one you saw–but that was a recipe for disaster. There was clearly something that warranted Mr. Alford putting up so much religious iconography, wasn’t there?

In mere moments, the sliding paper door to your room came into view, Mai halting you both steps away and turning to you with a tight smile. The lamps on the way clicked and clattered with each failure of electricity, conducted by the storm picking up outside like a maestro. 

“Come find me in a few hours,” She whispered, purposely keeping her face close to yours so things remained private, “Mother and Father will be asleep by then, and I want to discuss what I mentioned in the letter.”

You nodded at that, giving her hands a small squeeze with your own. Having a guest in your room was certainly going to make sneaking out at midnight look strange, but then again that really wasn’t his business.

“The storm will be bad by then,” You murmur, warily watching the lights flicker while another rumble caressed the building, “I’ll try not to use a lantern and disturb guests–we’re meeting at the sitting room with the lovebirds on the door, right?”

Mai hummed in confirmation, looking equally troubled by the quickly dimming light in the hallway. Typhoons were never ideal, but this was feeling particularly troubling, especially with how eerie the hotel felt. Your friend looked anxious, eyes flickering to the dark corners at the end of the hall as if waiting for something to come slinking out.

“See you then,” She whispered, barely managing another somewhat playful smile as her eyes made a moment for your closed room door, “Say hi to your roommate for me~.”

The implications in her cheerful, sing-song little tone made you finally sigh, earning another snicker from her direction before she started quickly leaving for her own room. You decided very pointedly to ignore her inappropriate remarks, instead opting to quietly slide open the door to your hotel room in the odd chance that the Medicine Seller had in fact gone to bed as you had theorized. There was a fifty-fifty chance of him catching some of that conversation due to Mai’s inability to stop causing trouble for you, and the hope remained that he did not, in fact, hear any of it and was sound asleep.

You were never that lucky. 

It was almost startling to walk into the room and see the Medicine Seller still sitting upright, legs crisscrossed on the tatami mat and head turning to fixate those yellow eyes on your person. He certainly hadn’t dressed down for the night, but had simply removed his sandals and opted for leaning against the wall with…something balancing on one fingertip? It looked made of metal, shaped like a moth and colored similarly with a small, almost needle point that mysteriously kept the little trinket upright. Bells lightly jingled when he spun it around, like a top balancing on one, slender fingertip. It was almost mesmerizing to look at, but you were struggling to remember where you had seen something similar before, because you most certainly had, if not designed in a different flavor. 

“Welcome back,” His greeting broke the line of thought almost immediately, your eyes catching what looked like rather sharp canines from behind those purple lips as he spoke, “I must thank you again for your hospitality–-this room is certainly ideal compared to sitting out in the lobby.”

You nodded at that, closing the door behind you and slipping off your own footwear for the shoe holder nearby, “Don’t mention it. I don’t know if I managed to really introduce myself yet, but…my name is Y/N.”

Most people would hear an introduction and politely take that as an opportunity to introduce themselves in return. But he simply allowed his lips to twitch up into another cat-like smirk, head turning to gaze at the little trinket he was toying with.

“I do recall your friend mentioning it previously,” His voice was calm, somewhat amused as he extended out one leg, leaving the other comfortably tucked against his thigh, “Her name was Mai, was it not?”

Your response was somewhat lazy, a light grunt of affirmation offered as you made your way towards the privacy screen near the room’s wardrobe. It was, by all accounts, a fairly lovely hotel room–the bed on a wooden frame in the corner was certainly new for you, but not worth complaining about. It was framed by thin, hanging fabrics along beams from the ceiling, giving it the sensation of a nest set up in the room corner with a bedside table next to it. Wooden floors gave it support from underneath, but half the room contained the familiar tatami you were accustomed to, along with a tea table and some cushions to sit on. Windows aligned in that side of the room, although they were firmly shut behind storm shutters at that moment, the walls covered in pretty murals of flowers, traditional animals and depictions of serene moments within nature. Unfortunately your room was not immune to the flickering lights on the walls, but already you could see a shelf lined with candles and an emergency lantern just for the occasion.

You paused in removing your Yukata when your hands found the familiar shape of wrapped rice balls in one pouch, still warm and left forgotten after chatting with Mai. Right, those had been grabbed for the Medicine Seller, since he didn’t leave the room for the dinner call. You paused in undressing, stepping out quickly and savoring the tatami mats under your feet as you strode over to where he sat, still playing with his odd little toy. 

“Here, these are for you,” The Medicine Seller’s yellow eyes flickered up in surprise at your words, the most emotion he had shown all evening as he took the offered bundle with long, slender fingers. You noticed how long his nails were, painted black and almost perfectly shaped as you continued on distractedly. “I…Well, I noticed you didn’t eat, so…there’s probably four onigiri in there, an assortment since I didn’t know what you liked.”

The Medicine Seller blinked at the objects in his hands, pulling back the cloth to reveal the food in question as the umami aroma started to fill the room. He lifted it to his nose to smell if softly, eyes flickering shut in a display of contentment that made you feel…well. Things. He seemed utterly pleased by the offering, like a cat given a bowl of cream as he smiled softly and looked up at you from under those stupidly thick lashes. For someone who didn’t bother getting up to actually go eat, he seemed very interested in the offered rice balls, in a manner that oddly made your stomach feel like it was about to fall out of your body. Inhale, exhale, remember to breathe and remember that this person was just a very oddly dressed, eccentric stranger sitting in your room. 

“Your kindness continues to grace me,” The Medicine Seller hummed, eyes flickering down as those elegant fingers plucked up one seaweed wrapped delight, bringing it up again to his nostrils which twitched ever so slightly. “Ah…marinated unagi, how lovely…I can smell the smoke and charcoal of the grill they used, the sweetness of soy…”

He trailed off thoughtfully, looking a bit wistful. Even then, he did not take a bite in front of you, setting the cloth on the mat in front of him and humming deep in his throat, as if in contemplation. For some reason, you found yourself squeezing the folds of your yukata in one hand, struggling to read his expression and struggling even more to figure out why he wasn’t already eating, despite a clear longing to do so. Was he shy, perhaps? You knew some people struggled to feel comfortable eating in front of others, and immediately felt rude for standing there just gawking at him like a total moron. His expressions were just so strangely interesting to look at, and you found yourself drinking in his mannerisms almost desperately in an attempt to figure him out. Curiosity was a hell of a drug, and the Medicine Seller was a perfectly good, unsolved mystery just sitting there in your room waiting to be solved. You so loved an unopened book, if only to feel its crisp pages between your fingers as you finally managed to peel it open and drink in all the secrets written within. Which was admittedly selfish, and on occasion foolish. And clearly rude considering that you still were just…standing there, not moving.

You had the good graces to finally turn away, slipping back behind the privacy screen in an attempt to give him time to eat if that was necessary, “There should be a miso one as well, shrimp, and uni.”

It was so relieving to finally slip off the layers of yukata that had contributed to the afternoon heat, your skin immediately prickling at the cold air that instantly met it upon becoming bare. You shivered, regretting not packing something thicker for bed and settling on a plain, white yukata for bed time, hoping the comforters on the bed would be enough to keep you cool.

The Medicine Seller’s voice was a bit jarring to hear while undressing, you would admit that. You almost dropped your garment onto the floor at his reply, sultry and low in the dim light of the room, “What is a lady of your good nature doing here at the Inn during such a fearsome storm?”

As if on cue, the wind hit the side of the building and sent the windows rattling ominously. A crack of thunder rang out so loud that you were certain someone yelped in fear a couple rooms down, the sound muffled by the sheets of rain slamming into the outside walls like swiping claws trying to break in. You shook off some of the surprise, stepping out fully changed and thoroughly relieved to be out of the sweaty layers of fabric plaguing you the last few hours. Wasn’t like this was the first time you had stepped into a room with a man’s eyes on you, but it still managed to make you feel just a tad bit exposed, trying to distract yourself by looking at the cloth tucked by his leg–the onigiri were gone by the looks of it, but you heard no sounds of consumption at all. Perhaps they were covered by the storm, as he was back to holding his strange little object again with one hand, bemused as his yellow gaze followed your path on the way to the bed. 

“I could ask you the same,” You huffed, sitting down on the plush mattress and crossing your legs as well, “I doubt you came here to just sell medicine–why not just work at a clinic if that’s the case?”

The question came out more accusatory than you meant, but he didn’t seem to mind. You watched with open curiosity as he set down the metal creature delicately onto the tatami-–it remained upright, stock still with only the slightest jingle from its hanging bells.

“Answering a question with a question,” The Medicine Seller mused, leaning back against the wall so that he now faced you sitting on the bed, “That would give the inclination that you have something to hide.”

You rolled your eyes at that, feeling rather huffy as you leaned your head on one arm and settled a droll stare on him. What an utterly hypocritical remark from someone sitting in your room fully decked out in face paint, lugging around a glorified piece of luggage that was akin to a small coffin. 

“Now that’s the pot calling the kettle black,” You scoffed, eyes narrowing lightly on him and his smug expression as some of the hesitation within you melted into a comfortable, familiar annoyance. “Says the one who still hasn’t introduced himself with a proper name, who also has no business being in a town like this ‘selling medicine’ during a storm.”

The Medicine Seller gave a good-natured chuckle at that, seeming amused by the direction of the conversation despite how obviously incredulous your tone. His vision shifted to where the little trinket still sat upright on the floor, his fingers delicate and slender as they gave the thing a slight spin.

“Such a spitfire,” He remarked, the coy little curve of his painted upper lip making him appear even more smug than you could think possible, “I told you, I am merely a humble Medicine Seller, nothing more, nothing less.”

And yet he still dodged the question. Unsurprisingly. 

You groaned in irritation at more smokescreens and nonsense, flopping over on the bed and opting for staring at the ceiling instead. Even on the second floor you could hear the storm raging above, mercilessly whipping over the coastline and creating an ever constant background noise that kept the room from sinking into uncomfortable silence. Even while laying in the bed, there was a vibrating undercurrent of energy in the places your body touched, one that you were struggling to decipher. Like music played backwards, through a really awful buzzing that muted any chance of figuring out the melody, if there was a chance of even doing that with it reversed. Certainly didn’t help that Mr. Smug, weird, and cryptic was in your room, quietly taking up space–which you couldn’t even blame on him, as it was your dumb ass that invited him to be room mates in the first place. Which you were still on the fence about whether or not that had been a good choice. Like a pendulum, it kept swinging both ways, undecided and unlikely to settle, like most things in life. You kept trying to remind yourself that human beings were a mixed bag of nonsense, and most people had reasons behind your actions, and most days those motivations did not equal maliciousness. 

Thunder crackled above again, then continued a couple seconds later. You winced at the sound, feeling the bedframe rumble slightly with the noise and hoping the storm shutters on the room were strong enough to keep out debris. The Medicine Seller did not seem to mind, but you couldn’t help but notice that despite the hour…he was making no move to change into nightwear, seemingly with no intentions to go to bed at all.  It made you feel a bit antsy, knowing that at midnight Mai wanted to meet you and talk, brain struggling to think of a good excuse to give the Medicine Seller that wouldn’t confirm his stupid suspicions that you were “hiding something”. Sharing was caring and all that, and if he had no intention of providing even a little context about himself, then by the gods you could play that game too. Eye for an eye, mystery for a mystery.

Those little bells jingled ominously again, mingling with the rolling thunder and making you softly sigh.

“I say this kindly,” You spoke up, still staring at the ceiling but practically sensing his head turn towards you, “But you’re not beating the accusations of being a weirdo when you’re sitting quietly in a room playing with some mysterious object, speaking in vague nothing answers.”

He chuckled again at that, still unbothered by your remarks as he leaned down and placed a second little trinket on the tatami mats. How many of those did he have exactly?

“It’s a scale,” He responded despite your obviously agitated tone, holding up one for your viewing. To his obvious surprise, you sat up, curiosity winning as you reached out and plucked it from his fingers. It was light as a feather in your hand, still balanced as he continued on. “For measuring the distance between myself and what I seek.”

Oh? That sounded incredibly vague. 

You frowned at his wording, spinning the little contraption and watching the little bells tremble and sway with the movement, “And what is it you seek?”

He totally wasn’t going to answer that question, you knew that much. It was way too specific and revealing for someone as tight lipped as himself.

Sure enough, he didn’t have anything to say in regards to what he sought, merely smiling and reaching a hand out to politely take back the scale you were still holding. You handed it back without qualms, your fingertips brushing his own slightly in the process–part of you expected him to be cold to the touch, he certainly looked inhuman in nature enough that there would be something off. But it was more surprising to feel warmth, an almost human level of normality in those fingertips despite the claws that ever so slightly grazed your tender flesh. You pulled back and tried to appear nonplussed, hands resting comfortably on your lap and gaze flickering to where the storm shutters rattled over shut windows, but your head was abuzz with even more questions, even more curiosity. Usually you could touch someone and get an undercurrent of something akin to music from them–a song, a melody, a strumming of guitar strings or the gentle thrum of a drum. His was…odd. Part of you expected to hear or feel nothing, to get a suspicious lack from him that wouldn’t answer or refute any questions. Instead it felt like electricity danced along your skin for a brief moment, bringing with it the melody of a nohkan, familiar yet incorrect in a way that you couldn’t quite describe. It was off, both too fast and too slow, a contradiction, the pure sound feeling strained and ominous whilst also bringing a strange sort of peace.

It left you even more frustrated, confused–what was his deal? That didn’t answer literally anything either. You were so used to just being able to figure a person out in mere seconds. Easy to read, easy to feel, easy to decipher. It was equally frustrating and exhilarating to meet someone who was unknown, something that didn’t come easily like everything else. Part of you felt tempted to leave it be, draw out the mystery as long as possible so figuring out this stranger would be more satisfying. Tempting, but not enough to follow through. Your nosy impatience was currently becoming a detriment. 

“You should get some rest,” The Medicine Seller continued on as if you had not spoken, resting his hands on his lap and tucking both legs under him again. The weight of those undiscerning eyes landed on you, flickering over your expression as if trying to draw truths forth from it. “The night will not be kind as it progresses, better to sleep now before it grows too fierce.”

 Your lips twitched into a grimace at that, arms crossing almost defiantly over your chest, “And I suppose you won’t be sleeping? Since you’re just sitting there, fully clothed and making no attempts at laying down.”

His eyelids lowered slightly, somewhat lazily as he made good of leaning back against the wall again. Part of you wanted to laugh at his almost sarcastic show of being a normal person, as if that was even possible looking like that. The way he moved was too smooth, almost silky. Like a big prowling cat, hunting prey for slaughter. Not that it felt particularly unsafe, especially not when this stranger had so much at stake. The storm’s noise was a grim reminder that Mai could, and would, throw him out into the rain if he misbehaved, and he didn’t seem like the type to do anything such. Overly polite, overly behaved. 

“I will close my eyes for a bit,” The Medicine Seller murmured, seeming somewhat surprised and amused by the situation as he added. “If only to appease you, mi–”

He made it sound as if you had him at the end of a sword, threatening to cut off his tongue if he didn’t oblige. 

“Y/N ,” You interjected, sounding rather bratty even to your own ears as you flopped over on one side, facing away from him. “Stop calling me ‘miss’, I don’t like formalities.” 

Another chuckle left the strange man at your request, but he did not refute it. Nor did he respond aside from that, opting merely to obediently close his eyes and lower his head for what you assumed was feigned sleep. Even then, despite his suggestion, you would not be sleeping any time soon. Not with how loud the storm was becoming, filling the Inn with unsettling sounds and creaking wood, bringing you back to the story of those three little pigs. Outside, you could imagine a grotesque,  huge wolf huffing and puffing, trying to blow down the Inn with all its might.  You remembered the letter sent by Mai, the words within filled with anxiety and fear, what originally brought you here in the first place to try and offer her some comfort and aid. It made sleeping in this bed, luckily, difficult–you still had a few more hours before meeting your friend in the love bird sitting room, and it was going to be rather dull waiting for the Medicine Seller to, hopefully, fall asleep so you could slip out unnoticed and unseen. 

You geared up for a couple hours of trying to read the energy in the room, maybe decipher some of that strange, confounded music rattling around in your head. But another rumble of thunder overhead interrupted your thought process, the sound of wind whipping across the trees and landscape almost overwhelming. Something cracked outside, like a whip painfully biting into flesh as a tree was felled to the ground in a tremendous thud and snapping. You sat bolt upright in bed at the commotion, instinctively looking towards the covered windows as if expecting to see through them. But the storm shutters remained firmly shut, and in the next instant all the lights in the room flickered and shut off in a dramatic loss of power from the room. Both of you plunged into darkness immediately, the air turning so cold that for a brief instant you thought your breath had started crystalizing in clouds before your lips. 

A moment of silence fell, broken only by the chaos just outside the walls and ceiling sheltering your little bedroom. You could feel the energy of the walls and bed shifting in the black before your eyes like a kaleidoscope of colors, shapes, and patterns, making your teeth grind as if someone was hovering unseen over your bed. Staring down at you with eyes and mouth agape, screaming the song that you were struggling so hard to hear. So close, so far, so loud, so quiet. A cold sweat broke over your skin despite feeling as if you had been doused in ice water, the yukata feeling like a vice over your flesh as something changed, something that sent all the alarms in your brain and body going off like a raid siren. It wasn’t often that something unsettled you, made you feel unsafe and uncomfortable in your surroundings–but at that moment you longed to leap out of bed and make a mad dash for the door, braving whatever the storm brought in some desperate attempt to just be out of the hotel, if even for a moment. The paper charms you always kept in one pocket of your yukata felt utterly useless despite how you gripped them like a lifeline, begging your eyes to adjust to the dark long enough for you to grab the lantern set up on one shelf nearby. 

The Medicine Seller spoke into the quiet dark, voice low and foreboding as you saw his silhouette rise from the floor, almost invisible in the vast, yawning void you both existed in. You didn’t know why, but despite the weight of his words, his presence instantly brought a grounding level of weight, your vision adjusting well enough to see those purple lined lips move as he spoke. 

 “And so it begins.”

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I lied, two chapters this week because I'm impatient.

[spirit-of-the-void]

Mokonoke Fanfic: The Saturated Iris

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Chapter 1: Act One: The Typhoon

Part One

The wind practically howled as you stepped over the threshold of a train car, the platform crowded with warm bodies and chattering voices as you desperately tried to avoid stepping on any toes. The day was hot, almost unbearably so,  air thick with the smell of tobacco and the unmistakable weight of humidity. So saturated with moisture that you could almost drink every breath, a parasol the only thing protecting your skin from the fierce sunlight above. Even then, the wind was your adversary, both hands gripping the wooden handle like a lifeline as each gust threatened to whisk you away. It was strange to think that despite the crowds all around you, not many were getting off this particular train–-no, many were seeking to get on, carrying luggage and bags for temporary travel and appearing quite flustered. Not really your business, but it was particularly frustrating to maneuver around men, the smell of their cologne and whatever brands of tobacco they used were almost nauseating. It felt like a century had passed in the time it took you to gain freedom from the platform, and even longer to catch your breath in the mid day sun. Dehydration was a fierce risk in towns like this, and you took note of it before reaching for a flask on your hip and taking a generous chug of somewhat lukewarm liquids. 

This was the town of Mori, one you had been to frequently in the past for recreation. It was mountainous, lush, close to the ocean but not overbearingly crushed under the weight of tourism quite yet. Still busy enough to have a bustling economy and more modernized updates, like Western architecture, and yet peaceful enough that the marks of culture and passion had not lost their glimmer quite yet. A smile spread your lips as you twirled your parasol idly, watching women walk by in brightly colored yukata, some men in Western suits and others still in the familiar, light-wear for the summer time as they hauled supplies or carts down cobbled roads. A few cast glances your way as you started walking past, but there was an air of focus in the villagers’ eyes, one you did not miss as you watched men carry wooden boards to storefronts, people rushing past with luggage and in hand and carts lugging sandbags to where the edge of the town met the docks, then the churning waves of the ocean. Wind made most of these tasks all the more difficult, blowing up the skirts of women with a shriek and sending supplies bouncing along the road as if possessed by spirits. They too were trying to flee the obvious issue hovering over the town, one you peered up at with one hand raised to block out the sun.

Storm clouds hovered ominously over the ocean, which rolled and coiled as if in angry anticipation of what was to come. Even you had never seen clouds that wicked in all your years, so dark they almost had a greenish tint, taking up the horizon line like an angry blanket threatening the black out the sun.  A typhoon was coming to Mori, a bitter giant threatening to swallow several coastal locations whole in its maw. Did you know this storm was coming? Well, yes. News was traveling faster now with phone lines and telegrams. Word of the storm had already reached many inner towns and cities, many preparing for when it would attack the central part of the island as well. You knew all too well what it meant to be in the town at a time like this, especially being a woman traveling alone with no guides or chaperone, not that you would ever allow such a thing. It would be a cold day in hell when you allowed anyone to dictate your ability to move from place to place, and besides–-it wasn’t like you were here without reason. 

“ Y/K! ” A familiar, feminine voice shrieked from your left, head turning automatically to catch the silhouette of a girl launching herself in your direction. An “oof” of strain left you on impact, the air practically squeezed out of your lungs and head snapped back at the force of one very warm embrace. 

“Good to see you too, Mai–” You managed to wheeze, trying not to drop your parasol as she squealed and hugged you tighter. “Although, you are killing me–”

Mai huffed at that, pulling back to stare at you with a beaming smile on her face. She was a traditionally pretty girl, hair pinned up in two cheerful buns, adorned with flower clips and the lightest grey eyes you had ever seen. Her yukata was, as expected, pink and white, with a elegant pattern covering her skirts like the embodiment of springtime. She looked downright thrilled to see you, both hands grasping the one you had free and squeezing as if the girl was close to breaking out into sobs, which she probably was. Mai had always been prone to tears, especially where you were concerned–-hell, you were fairly certain she was still your closest friend, even with all the travel and busy-work you did. After serving her household for a good majority of your childhood, she was practically a sister.  

“Thank you for coming on such short notice!” The girl exclaimed, the cracking in her voice definitely confirming your theory of oncoming water works, “Especially with the storm and all, I didn’t know who else to ask about the–”

“You know I’m always happy to dance for customers,” You interjected, cutting her off with  a light laugh and a playful tug of her arm, “You don’t have to be so formal with me. I’m thrilled to come visit, you know that.”

Mai’s smile was tight, stressed in  a way that you had learned to recognize. Movement over her shoulder caused your vision to drift ever so slightly, catching the somewhat bored and annoyed visage of her chaperone “patiently” waiting by a shop while they talked, his eyes flickering between Mai and yourself like the flicking of an angry cat’s tail. Ah, he was to be your permanent audience on the way to the Inn, it would seem. Mai had invited you here via telegram a week or more ago to dance and sing at a performance for some Western diplomats that were bunkering down during the storm, something about a business deal between her parents and whoever was visiting. Politics were particularly droll in your eyes, but you would never turn down Mai in a time of need. And men would always be easily entertained by a pretty lady showing off her body and pouring them sake, you had long since learned that. Which was probably why Mai’s chaperone kept throwing disgusted glances your way–a loose yukata showing your shoulders, a history of traveling alone and performing for men? It didn’t exactly earn respect, but it did put money in your pocket. 

Well. That portion of your work.

You tried to smile comfortingly at your friend, squeezing her hand back as your brain flickered to the part of the telegram she didn’t mention. Not exactly something the two of you could talk about while one of her father’s men was hovering nearby. 

“Let’s get to the Inn,” Your voice was cheerful, one arm linking comfortably with hers and strides syncing on instinct, “I heard a good portion of the town is staying at the ryokan instead of evacuating.”

Mai sighed as if the world rested on her shoulders, your mind’s eye perfectly envisioning a drooping set of ears on her head, “We’re lucky I booked you a room weeks in advance, we’re all full up now between the Western men here for my father and people from town seeking higher shelter to stay in.”

That made sense. Mai’s father was European, though you weren’t quite sure what part of those countries in particular. He was brusque, white-skinned with pale blond hair and green eyes. Mai definitely took more of her mother’s genes, which were traditionally Japanese, but her father’s blond hair definitely made itself known in the sunlight. Feather light streaks shone where the light touched, hiding away when you tried to pull the girl further under your parasol in an attempt to protect her skin. You recalled a time in childhood where she burned terribly while playing in the backyard, and while she liked to pretend it didn't happen,  you preferred to remain cautious. 

“I’m sure it will be fine,” You reassured Mai, pointedly ignoring the very obvious presence of her chaperone keeping in step behind you both as you whispered to her, “Horny men will always have money, even in bad weather you know?” 

Mai laughed at that, the sound lifting the heavy air around her even for a little while as she giggled, “Oh, stop that! Your dancing is magic, you sell yourself short by saying it’s just to entertain piggish men!”

You shrugged a bit at that, feeling rather good natured as you twirled your parasol again, watching the rolling storm clouds out of the corner of your eye like a pack of angry dogs ready to strike. It felt like it was nipping at your heels as you and your friend started walking uphill, gaze locked on the familiar rooftop of the Inn tucked against the mountainside. Definitely on high enough ground that flooding was not an issue for them, braced by the Earth and trees in a way that practically cradled it in a protective embrace from the threatening storm that ached to send it tumbling town. It reminded you of a children’s story you heard recently, about a wolf huffing and puffing as he blew the houses down of three little pigs. You shook your head at the thought, knowing full well that the next few days wouldn’t exactly be pleasant. But there was always a job to do despite the circumstances, and you were already locked into this despite the odd nature of it all. Mai was your best friend, the Inn would be safe in the storm, and there were restless men that would need entertaining. 

A sigh left your lips as the uphill trek started feeling a bit exhausting, the sun just barely starting to be covered by the clouds and wind threatening to upskirt you from the back. The parasol made a swift exit by that point, you were done wrestling it in this kind of weather. Cloud cover felt like a blessing on your bare shoulders with nothing protecting you, the object in question hooked to your bag safely in case it was needed again. Lords, your arms were sore from making sure the umbrella didn't go soaring into the sky, and carrying a bag on top of that? Your forearms were practically ablaze while your legs felt perfectly fine despite walking up a slope. Mai frowned at the sight of you lugging your own things, sensing the discomfort that lingered after putting the parasol away as she stopped your momentum with a firm hand on your shoulder and turning to look back at the man shadowing the journey.

“James, carry that for her please?” Mai said, her voice attempting to be firm despite the obvious hesitation in her asking. She was never the assertive type, not in all the years you had known her. Easily angered? Hot tempered? Yes, but boy she never liked asking for favors. 

James, a man that seemed to always be frowning, did not argue. He simply bowed his head once in acknowledgment of an order, reaching down to take your bag from that aching hand and slinging it over his shoulder. Oh yes, there was resentment in those vivid blue eyes as he glared down at you. Western men were just as traditional as Japanese men, that was for certain–-he clearly disliked the way you carried yourself, your yukata, the reason for being here in the first place. That didn’t deter your bemused smile and good mood, however. Men like him were, obviously, of little consequence in the long run, and you weren’t here for him. More often than not, they did not earn your respect or submission, a means to an end as you carried yourself forth with more intelligence and emotional understanding than they could muster in a single toenail. Men were brutish, rude, easily manipulated–-at the end of the day, they held little importance in what you came to accomplish. But that wasn’t up for discussion quite yet, not with Mai looking so anxious to have James around in the first place, and a storm threatening from the outskirts of the ocean.

“We should hurry,” You remarked, tugging Mai forward again with feigned concern in your voice as she stumbled a bit in response. “I fear the storm is starting to get too close for comfort!” 

Mai rolled her eyes at that, but her feet definitely quickened as she playfully matched your energy, “Oh yes, quite! One of us will take flight if we’re not careful!”

Giggles were shared between you both as if little girls again, sitting in her backyard playing with stag beetles and making fake potions in the mud. You could practically feel James straining to keep up with the pace, now lugging your bag over his shoulder and a cloud of annoyance following him that was just as potent as the typhoon swirling on the horizon. In minutes you were far up the cobblestone path, the entrance to the Inn well within sight as the lanterns hanging by the double doors swayed ominously. It was a beautiful structure, an oddly perfect mix of traditional and western architecture. Definitely more glass windows and western flare than the traditional sliding paper doors of a typical Ryokan, but those elements would certainly stand up to the weather far better than what was considered standard for their buildings. Already you could see storm shutters being shut over room windows, male workers attempting to cover up the lobby’s big, beautiful stained glass with wooden boards so that no debris would break them. The outside’s layer of beautiful, stained brick gave the Inn the air of a fortress, standing tall against the world and the storm with an energy that was equal parts beautiful and…strangely intimidating. 

You always had mixed feelings about it. The Inn had been constructed a couple years back, while you were away on the other side of the country working. To be entirely honest, this was the first time you had truly spent the night in it since then, all your other visits having been to their estate on the other side of town. A beautiful, traditional mansion that had been in Mai’s family for a long, long time. For a while, you worked there as a kid with your mother, and then alone after that. Now you were fairly certain the family spent most of their time in the Inn,  a wistful sort of feeling overtaking you at the thought of abandoned koi ponds and the hallways you and Mai had used to chase each other through as little ones.  Those times seemed so, so far away now, overshadowed by the changing times and the ever morphing state of the lives you both lived. Mai would always be your friend, yes, but…sometimes it felt like even with outstretched fingers, you would not be able to reach her over the gap that had been created the day you left the manor. 

Your body felt cold at the thought. The years spent as a servant for her family were revealing, in both Mai’s origins and your own. Even now, the glassy eyed stare of your mother during her final weeks felt imprinted on your mind, despite all attempts to keep it at bay as you finished the trek up to the Inn’s entrance. She would have loathed this place, as she loathed the headmaster of the estate—She and Mai’s mother, Tomoko, had been close in childhood, but drew apart when both went seeking husbands. Instead, Tomoko found her Western spouse, Michael, and your mother…well. That was too much of a loaded topic for her to discuss with you, and as such thinking about it was pointless. Your mother loathed Michael with a passion rivaled by nothing you had ever witnessed since. Every day spent in service to him was a blow to her pride so fierce that she became vile, spiteful and cruel in her later days. It was only her loyalty to Tomoko that kept her and you in that house so long, and when she died…well. You knew what happened then.

You would do this to your mother? Your flesh? Your blood? 

A shrill whistle caused you to jolt out of the drifting thought, eyes darting over to where some of the male workers were leering at you from scaffolding set up on the side of the Inn. Sweat had started beading your brow slightly now, glistening from your bare shoulders and neck. Even with the clouds rolling in, the temperature was not dropping fast enough to warrant comfort, and certainly not on an uphill walk. Unfortunately, you drew the attention of men like moths to a flame, and the disheveled nature of your person was not helping in the slightest.

”Looks like the pretty lady could use a drink!” One called, causing a few of the other men to chuckle and jeer. 

“Come now, show us a little more!” Another shouted, hanging off the scaffolding like a clumsy oaf and waving a calloused hand at you. “Just a peek at those pretty little leg—“

His shout cut off when Mai stepped out from your right, glaring so fiercely it was a wonder that none of the men caught flame. They all jolted at the fearsome sight, thoroughly chagrined even though your friend had not spoken a single word yet. She, at many times, reminded you of a hissing, spitting feline—so small, so angry. It was easier than breathing to simply imagine cat ears flat against her head of brown hair, a fluffy tail thrashing with anger and claws outstretched towards disrespectful men.

”Apologize at once!” Mai hollered, tone firm and irrefutable as she pointed an accusatory finger at the working gentlemen. “You have disrespected an honored guest, who is graciously here to perform despite the coming storm! Apologize!”

A smile twitched across your lips at that, eyes drifting lazily back over to the men with several tails tucked in fear of upsetting their boss’ daughter. If anyone looked sweatier than you, Mai, and James it had to be them, quickly trying to reinforce the Inn right before the storm, in such heat! Part of you felt bad, but the other? Vindicated.

”….Sorry, Ma’am…” Several embarrassed mumbles rang out from the crowd, a few scratching the back of their heads in shame, as they should. A couple had the good graces to bow their heads to you and the lady of the house, some turning away to hurry back to work in fear of catching any more of Mai’s wrath. 

Mai only seemed mildly happy with this outcome, crossing her arms with a frown still plastered across her lips, tinted with some sort of light pink makeup that made them look like an angry peach. You took it upon yourself to protect these troubled and somewhat brutish men despite their rude comments towards your figure, locking an arm around Mai’s and tugging her slightly forwards to draw her attention away. Honestly, it was pointless to stop every time this happened—you had long grown used to this kind of treatment from the opposite sex, and considering your chosen career path, it wouldn’t be good if Mai kept confronting men who howled at you and barked like dogs. She would be horrified to learn of all the pinching to your ass endured over the years, the groping, the loose hands and even looser lips. It was sweet of her though—like always, she had to prove herself the “big sister” in your friendship, even though you both were of similar age, and to be frank? You were not quite so sheltered as she. 

“Come now,” You insisted calmly, eyes warm as you regarded Mai and watched her expression shift back to that ever cheerful grin. “Have you forgotten what hangs over us? Any more chatter out here and we risk keeping them from finishing their jobs before the storm.”

Mai released a heavy sigh at that, but had no qualms, simply nodding as she mumbled in reply, “Yes yes, although they should know better by now not to harass women outside the Inn! Father has been stern with them about it in the past.”

Not really a surprise. If Michael was anything, it was protective of his daughter. Despite your mother’s hatred of him, you had never particularly seen any bad behavior from the man—he was just painfully boring, all business and stern in regards to his property and family. He had never beat Tomoko, never been crass or cruel. Above all things he made sure to be a good husband, a good father, and a good business man, lacking more of the party mentality that you had witnessed from other western men shambling about the country, searching for maidens to bed and sake to drink. Most western men were rude, rowdy, and downright cruel in their treatment of natives. It had lead to more than one conflict over the years, even if those conflicts had smoothed over in recent times due to the influx of manufacturing and progress overtaking the island. To be entirely honest, the only thing about Mai’s father that was particularly annoying was his insistence on the Christian religion, and his habit of ignoring Japanese customs in favor of that particular god and means of worship. 

Regardless of that, you began to stride forward towards the Inn, wind blowing hard from the ocean and sending the smell of sea salt and brine through your nostrils. Along with something…bitter? You could only faintly catch it, a more acrid scent accompanying that of the water, barely noticeable combined with that of rain, burning charcoal, and the familiar warmth of the tree wood. Wet and mossy from recent rainfall, mingling with incense coming from some of the vent work of the Inn itself. As quickly as you caught the strange scent was as quick as it left, either that or you had gone nose-blind to the bizarre odor in the time it took to walk up to the entrance. If Mai noticed, she said nothing, but you could tell from your peripheral vision that she was troubled by something unspoken, especially with James still hovering with your bag in hand behind you both. He had said nothing when the men had been jeering, and nothing when Mai had rebuked them. Like a stoic shadow dogging your steps, expression unchanged and eyes still cold with irritation and exhaustion.

It was rude of a man to not hold open a door for a lady, but luckily attendants still seemed present despite the nature of the storm and the Inn becoming a shelter. Two well dressed men in kimonos pulled the wooden doors back for you and Mai,  faces shrouded in plain, pale masks as they bowed from the waist with one hand tucked under the door handles. They must have been older gentlemen—you could see grey hair pulled back into tight buns on the back of their heads, held with pins that contained the Inn’s signal and a few pretty, hanging beads on chains. Part of you wondered how long these men worked for the family, and if any of them had been servants when you were a child working at the house. Had they met your mother? Known her? Spoke to her?

You shouldn’t be thinking about that now. 

You tried to sway the thoughts away, visibly shaking your head as if it would send the unsettling images out of your ears like water or sand.

”Welcome home, Miss Alford.” The two parroted to Mai in unison, totally droll in a way that sent a shiver up your spine, and eye rolling from the “miss” in question.

“I told you to call me Mai,” Your friend replied firmly, tugging you inward with pep in her step as the two simply kept bowing as they went to shut the doors. “Not Alford. Don’t make me remind you again.”

She never did care for her father’s last name. You almost laughed aloud at that, feigning a yawn instead as an excuse to hide your grin. The two doormen only murmured quiet apologies to their mistress as you passed by, but other than that they remained silent and steadfast in their duty to the door. They were of little concern compared to the lobby of the Inn, a beautiful display of western culture and Japanese culture mingling together in perfect symphony. Pillars lined the room leading up to an extravagant front desk, illuminated by glowing lanterns and electric lighting from the ceiling that flickered with each gust of wind outside. Beams kept the ceiling aloft, each one donning a different hanging tapestry or decoration that brought color, texture, and brightness to the room. Already you could smell the familiarity of sandalwood incense from rooms further on, a double set of grand staircases curving around the main desk to upper floors where sliding, paper doors beautifully decorated with familiar ornate illustrations hid what was beyond. Even then, lounges and couches from the West lined the lobby comfortably, with side tables made of dark woods and rugs that must have cost a pretty penny from somewhere overseas. Windows would have brought light into the space if not for the wooden boards covering them, but you took a moment to admire some of the stained glass that had been commissioned to colorfully accentuate the panes in question. 

It was certainly lovely, even if you had never truly spent the night before. And by god it was busy considering the state of the town and oncoming storm—families lingered in the lobby worriedly chattering about their homes and businesses, people lined up at the front desk to get their room keys and argue with the rather red-faced hostess who was equally animated back at them.  Some men lingered on lounges to smoke from fancy, slender pipes and chatter at equally elegant Japanese women, the room bursting with socialization, conversation, and from your guess? Stress. No one was particularly happy about the storm by the sound of it, and the people here on actual leisure seemed perturbed by the number of village people hanging around and most definitely ruining what was to be a calm, easy vacation for some. You rolled your eyes at the thought, ignoring some pointed stares from some of these men and deciding to draw your attention elsewhere as Mai tried to get you up to the main desk for your room key. 

Something had definitely caught that attention.

You were nosy by nature, so raised voices from a particular corner of the room started catching your attention right away. It had briefly crossed your mind that it was odd to have only one hostess at the counter, but it would seem that the second hostess had moved across the room to address an issue in particular. You craned your head without shame to catch sight of the issue, Mai following your gaze with a frown as instinctively you sought to get a closer peak. A few people seemed to linger nearby as the hostess stood agitated and flustered in front of someone sitting with their legs crossed on the floor, a large wooden box with carrying straps attached accompanying them. She was starting to yell at whoever they were, eyes darting around most likely to find a superior but finding none, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson even under all the makeup she wore to keep her skin pale. Before her sat…a surprising sight to be sure, an individual that quite frankly stood out like a sore thumb amongst the more western dressed men and women, and certainly so by sitting on the floor calmly staring forward with both legs tucked underneath them. Their—his?—kimono was brightly colored, more on the feminine side, with circles of red, green, dark blue, vivid purple and pale yellow that contrasted rather wildly with each other. The stranger’s skin was unnaturally pale, almost pure white with a face that was almost unfairly beautiful to look at, albeit strange to balance it out.

Colorful makeup lined their eyes, eyelids a pretty shade of blue and lower lids red with a barely discernible line of yellow to accompany them. Several shaped markings and dots continued onto their upper cheeks, eyebrows painted on with those similar colors and a streak of red lining down the length of their nose. Equally interesting was the dark, almost purple-blue lipstick lining their upper lip, almost making it look like this strange individual was always coyly smiling. You found yourself almost stuck staring at them for a moment, taking in all the color, the pale, red tipped hair, and those eyes—striking, yellow, almost intimidatingly so. Something about the pattern on his clothes reminded you of a moth, the circles like false eyes meant to intimidate predators away. To be entirely honest, you were intrigued by this person, especially considering how they sat silent and practically ignoring the hostess shouting at them. From the angle you could see from, the strange person seemed to be wearing tight black leggings as well, with white tabi socks and geta sandals. Impressive—you certainly wouldn’t be caught dead wearing sandals like that, as breaking an ankle wasn’t something you longed for in the near future. They must have given them a couple more inches of height at the most, but it was hard to tell with the individual politely sitting on the floor.

Oh, that was sheer, raw nosiness fueling you on now. 

Mai exchanged a quick glance with you over the commotion, but did not complain as you started tugging her in that direction, James close behind. You thought he sighed once, but paid in no mind in pursuit of this striking stranger being yelled at on the floor. It was starting to gather more attention now, and you had no intention of sitting by without figuring out just what the hell was going on. 

“Sir—“ The hostess sounded like she was reiterating, a bead of sweat on her brow as you and Mai approached, “I have told you several times that we are completely without rooms for lodging at the moment! You simply cannot stay in the lobby as you please!”

You frowned at that, coming to a halt with Mai and trying not to let your disgust become too apparent. Why were they not turning the lobby into a safety shelter for people displaced by the storm? There was plenty of space, and no good Inn would be without extra bedrooms and mats to sleep on. Especially considering how new the Inn was, you figured they would want to integrate it further into the community in the hopes of gaining good standing. Besides, that would purely be the standard of lodgings like this during a moment of crisis—all hands on deck, all available room made to help others in need.

You stepped closer to the conflict, feeling irritation spread through your body like wildfire. Others were content to stand idly by and complacent, but you were not.

”Excuse me,” You interjected, the hostess jolting and turning her attention to you instead, along with…the stranger on the floor. A shiver traveled down your spine at those yellow eyes meeting your own, but you steeled your resolve and addressed the woman yelling. “But wouldn’t it be proper and customary to provide shelter at times like this?”

The hostess flushed even more red at your calm, almost matter of fact tone, hands clasping the front of her kimono as she sputtered, “I—I can assure you that our lobby will not be a safe place to be during the storm! T-there is glass above and on the sides, and if it were to break—!”

You looked around at the boarded up windows, frowning even deeper at her explanation. The safety measures would help, yes, but there was still a chance of wind and debris shattering that glass, always. Nothing was perfect nor foolproof, that was abundantly clear. But kicking someone out onto the street during a storm was not the answer, and certainly not in some fancy establishment like this. 

“I can understand that,” You spoke carefully, eyes steadily locked with the hostess, “However, we cannot in good conscience kick someone out when the storm is already breathing down our necks. Is there not somewhere in the hotel where people in need can be placed?”

“You—!” The hostess was certainly not having a good time with this situation, the frustration pouring out of her expounded from what must have been an abysmal amount of work and rude customers pouring in. Working in a storm was not an easy thing to be sure, but it definitely didn’t warrant her response. “If we made room for every shady-looking weirdo to walk through these doors, we would be up to the brim in criminals and liability...!”

Oh wow. That was not the right response at all. You could feel Mai’s blood pressure spike next to you, and with it came a paling look of realization on the hostess. She probably had not noticed the mistress standing their till now, but at that revealed bit of info she immediately became chagrined and shrank back into a bow from the waist. 

Before Mai could start reprimanding her, however, the stranger shifted next to the group. They rose to their feet, an imposing figure of color and mystery as those discerning yellow eyes shifted to your direction, expression unreadable due to all that face paint. You were right, those sandals gave them some height, and the entire getup sort of made you feel strangely small in comparison. Not a familiar sensation, nor a bad one necessarily. The hostess didn’t even look at them now, frozen by fear at being reprimanded by Mai and completely overwhelmed with the situation. Honestly, could you blame her? People didn’t usually walk around all dolled up like that without a reason, and the stranger certainly wasn’t acting normal. Thematic? Absolutely. In a way they reminded you of a brightly colored bird, flashing a blood red throat in equal parts threatening and enticing, feathers fluffed out and feet balancing perfect and steady on those stilted sandals. Their unwavering gaze brought a strange feeling over your shoulders, as if the weight of perception was almost physical in the way it stroked down your spine, your back, your waist. The yukata hanging off you felt heavy, almost unbearably so.

When they spoke, you almost jumped out of your skin at the masculine, almost purring voice that came out of their—his—throat. It was a stark contrast to the femininity displayed, somewhat bemused as he spoke directly at you.

”I am merely a humble medicine seller,” The stranger, now known to you as the Medicine Seller, smiled a bit coyly. Or perhaps that was just his makeup tricking your eyes? Regardless of that, he politely bowed his head in your direction, voice still calm as he continued. “I would hate for such upstanding ladies to get involved on my behalf.” 

You blinked, exchanging a glance with Mai before both looking back at the Medicine Seller. The hostess seemed ready to dissolve out of her garb into a puddle of humiliation onto the floor, looking seconds from fainting or vomiting. Or both. 

“Miss Aiko,” Mai addressed the servant in question, her voice shockingly firm and steady despite how obvious mad she was, “Are you implying that my mother and father base our clientele and guests on their appearances?”

Hostess Aiko looked like she shrank three sizes out of fear, her eyes watery in a way that hinted at a waterfall of tears if they weren’t careful. You could understand her trepidation, and the level of stress that came with dealing with Western clientele and their men. Just based on the jeering, almost rude stares from those watching, the poor girl must have been through the wringer already. That little slip up of a conversation more than likely didn’t come from a place of maliciousness, and to be entirely honest to Mai…yeah, her father would definitely raise an eyebrow at someone walking in like the Medicine Seller did, dressed in ways his culture did not understand. Hell, the hotel only looked the way it did at his wife’s behest, and it took more than a little convincing for that to happen if you remembered correctly. More than a few nights passed with shouted conversation seeping through paper doors and walls in the manor, and his erasure of Tomoko’s culture was a point of malice straight from your mother.

”N…no Madame…” Aiko whispered, voice sounding entirely stripped of its previous anger, “W…we simply…did not h-have the room…”

Mai frowned at that, looking around the crowded lobby with concern in her eyes. You know what she was seeing—boarded windows, shouting nobles, places that the workers outside would probably have to set up after their work to prepare for emergencies and stay to make repairs when the storm was done. Despite the previous mention of glass and hazards…they probably didn’t have the lobby space for another individual to take up.

So you did what you did best—spoke without thinking.

”He can stay in my room then,” Your voice was certainly more firm on the decision than you felt, all eyes turning in your direction in a way that made your heart leap into your throat. Despite that, you stood fast, turning to look at the Medicine Seller with a shockingly steady resolve. “Mai has me in a fairly large room, no? Surely there is a spare bedroll or two he can utilize, as some of the guests have clearly rejected the prospect of sleeping in one.”

You had overheard a few of them at the desk, shouting and demanding a proper mattress earlier. Which the hotel had, but certainly not enough for this many people. But that meant bedrolls and tatami mats would be readily available in abundance. Call you crazy, but somehow you doubted that this man standing next to you in a Kimono and Geta sandals would have any qualms with sleeping on tatami mats. 

Something akin to surprise spread across the Medicine Seller’s face, his gaze locked on yours without blinking. Somewhat unsettling. 

The hostess looked aghast at the suggestion, stammering louder now, “Y-you can’t, that’s wholly inappropriate—!“

Mai held up a hand to interrupt her, ever there to support your choices. You knew damn well it was, in fact, not the most reasonable suggestion, or even a safe one. But Mai trusted your judgement at best, and was downright an enabler at most. If you thought housing him was a good idea, then by the gods she would back it up even for the sake of entertainment and spite. 

“If Y/N is alright with this arrangement, then it will be allowed,” Mai huffed, narrowing her gaze on the strange man that stirred up all the drama in the first place. She pointed a finger at him, his yellow eyes following it like a cat watching a leaf flutter to the ground as she barked at him. “But know this well—if any harm comes to her, or if I get any reports of untoward behavior from you? We will not hesitate to throw you into the typhoon.” 

That was not an empty threat. That was very clear, and the Medicine Seller took it as such. He bowed at the waist to Mai in a show of good faith, eyes slowly closing and pale hair falling forward over his face. Part of you wondered how he got the red tint to the tips of his wavy locks—was it dye? Paint? There was nothing smeared on his dark-purple bandana, so it didn’t seem much like either possibility. At this angle you could better see that his throat was marked up as well with that same bright red coloring—certainly not tattoos, not of that color and form. And yet so neat and precise to be makeup or paint. What a strange and interesting person to encounter at a time like this, in a way that held your attention dramatically if only in pure curiosity, to pick apart this stranger and discover every secret he held. 

Something about his presence felt like music in the room. Overpowering, but completely silent. You couldn’t quite place the tune, and found yourself almost straining to do so.

”Your kindness is overwhelming, my lady,” He spoke directly to you, raising his head and staring at you from under those dark eyelashes. “A simple Medicine Seller such as I is surely not worthy of such hospitality.”

Something about the way he always spoke felt oddly…coy. Bemused. 

“Nonsense,” You replied, letting out a slow breath and managing an uncertain, albeit kind smile to him, “We don’t know what will be needed during the storm. If you are a medicine seller, that can always be useful in times of turmoil.”

”…Certainly.” The man in question simply hummed, looking strangely like you had just shared a secret little joke. One that you weren’t in on, but it wasn’t worth it to push such an issue now.

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One Chapter out a week, Lovelies. Enjoy, and see you next week <3

[spirit-of-the-void]

Two chapters are done. I’ll post the first soon.

[spirit-of-the-void]

well. I'm about to write some godless filth for a fandom that is practically dead for a show made up of: 1. A really cool movie 2. An anime that has some rouuuuugh tropes and questional depictions of race in it. 3. A manga I havent read 4. A single part of a horror trilogy.

Have I been endlessly reading about Japanese history, culture, and fashion in some vain attempt at not insulting a culture I know nothing about? Yes. I have. Lord help me, I am trying.

[spirit-of-the-void]

I JUST LEARNED THEYRE NOT THE SAME BOY I REPEAT MOVIE MEDICINE SELLER AND ANIME MEDICINE SELLER ARENT THE SAME OH OH BOY.

[spirit-of-the-void]

....Just to clarify.

If...I started writing....a Medicine Seller x Reader fic from the Mononoke movie...would anyone read it? Just. Just asking. I say, literally obsessing so hard I'm resisting the physical urge to write.