Drowning and drowning, deeper into something soft and warm. He clenches onto the fabric, pulls it over his head and struggles. On one side, on the other, again and again, uneasiness creeps through his veins, bugs fire his body up.

Bugs...

Images flash before his inner eye, a large centipede, a toddler girl...whenever she appears, he turns to the other side, presses his face into a silky pillow but the fantasies don't stop. Blood drips from her body, oh dear child, so hurt...the seller's heart aches at the sight, he shakes his head to ban the image but nothing happens. The more he fights back the worse it gets, with centipede on him crawling over the tender skin of his. Yes, the wooden box! If he reaches the wooden box with his sword, they will go...but he cannot move further than the very same spot he lies on.

More pictures, foggy and soaked in pain, screams, humans, and a woman falling dead. Another woman crying the name of a child...

Natsumi

Who is that? Oh seller, have you lost your sense?

Hands stretch out after him, as though he lies beside the woman but she cannot reach him, the life essence covers the ground beneath. More and more, of a child running in a corridor, a man yelling and hatred flooding from the mouth of someone, a being, another human...torn flesh, the smell of burnt things and fishes, red fishes swim through the air.

So blurry, so lost, a dream in a faraway paradise...or hell. Nothing, nothing, so empty...nothing.

What is that all? What only happened?

Natsumi...save...me...

Mr. Medicine seller, can I have this scale?

"Natsumi...who?"

"Natsumi?"

All of the pictures dissolve into dust, lose all their connection to every last bit of his brain. His heart beats until his ears, he jumps up and flinches to the back, hands held out with a barrier paper...no, there is not a thing in his hand, there is just...

A man in the front has his arms raised, waves with them in a calming matter while wearing a faint smile. Slowly, the Medicine seller lowers, looks around rather taken aback by the luxury he's enjoying unconsciously. Soft cushion, silky pillow, floor, and walls made of delicate material. A flower's smell, sweet and gentle, a hug of summer...this must for sure be a dream. A dream like...

Oh, like what? What did he dream? Was there even something? He shakes his head, pets it lightly. Empty. He forgot the dream. Maybe it was a nightmare, considering he struggled to stay in one position with uncomfortable feelings. He forces his attention back to the man.

"Who...are you?"

The man widens his eyes, seemingly taken aback by the seller's response. "Wait...what? Can you not remember? I'm Atsumotchi!"

"Forgive me, I cannot recall knowing you."

A silent minute, both stare each other into their eyes. Atsumotchi clears his throat and calls a person from outside. "Bring the healer, immediately!"

"Yes!" Another man and steps. Gone from the door.

"Look...you...you are here because you hunted down a Mononoke for us. You saved us...or saved at least me and my son."

"I...did?" Atsumotchi nods frantically. "You murmured my daughter's name. Natsumi. She..." He shuts himself with his hand, as though he is about to burst a secret.

"I see...is your daughter victim?" After a break, he nods. "My deepest apologies. Freeing Mononoke can cost me sacrifices. I intend to take careful approaches...of course, I might fail. But...know that in the end your fate always lays in your hands, whatever the direct outcome of this special case was." He catches a glimpse at Atsumotchi's hands, he scratches them.

The Seller takes a deep breath. "Have you...been watching me?"

"Yes...I wanted to make sure that everything stays alright. After all, you have saved our lives and..." he shakes his head, rubs over his eyes. "I felt obligated to care for you after what happened to you. Medicine seller, you were severely injured, had blood all over, I feared we would lose you. You luckily lived." Atsumotchi smiles faintly again. "You were also hurt on your head. A lot."

"I see...I assume that is the reason for my memory loss..."

"Would make sense. But...maybe...it is for the better..." The seller watches carefully, Atsumotchi avoids eye contact, looks in all directions. "Can you explain me with more details about what I did?"

"Better not. It isn't a good memory. Know that we owe you a lot. Really, a lot. There was a Mononoke, an Ōmukade born from the hatred and pain of...a woman once alive here, of royal elegance and unfathomable intelligence. That is, what you...freed." The Seller simply nods, attempts to stand up. "Wait, so early after waking up-"

"I have done my job, although my memory is gone." He stumbles, can barely hold himself up. The world around him spins, a heaviness makes him almost drop back down again but in the right moment, he balances his body. How does he get out of here? More importantly, where are his sword and the wooden box? A quick look in the back, where Atsumotchi fumbles in a drawer of a small table. It vibrates, yes, that is the sword. The power inside of him wakes up, he moves towards it. "Here. I put it in here so nobody would touch it. So far, people don't know that you carry an actual sword otherwise that would make problems for a simple merchant such as you. Although far from that..." He squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again. "If you wait here, I can get you that box, and then you're fine to go. Are you sure you don't...want to at least stay another night? Just to be sure about your health?"

Under normal circumstances, the Seller would've agreed. People are interesting to watch, he doesn't get to spend time along with them often. Though, it urges him to get out of here as soon as possible. Something about this place drives him mad, his mind revolves around something he cannot figure out. Fresh air is what he needs, as soon as possible. "How long have I been asleep?"

"A week."

Did his heart just jump a beat at this? "A week?"

"Yes. As I said, you were heavily injured. Also, your old clothes can't be saved anymore, they are ripped and bloody soaked. You have bandages all over, you'll have some nasty scars. But that is what makes a real man, isn't it?" A real man? He feels like nothing, neither the one nor the other. He just exists as the medicine seller, with no particular label of people expect merchant.

Looking down, the seller wears equally 'bloody soaked' fabric, silk, and meant for the night. "I would like my old clothes. Do you still have them?"

"What? Why? We can give you others. That's not a problem for us."

"I insist."

"Look, they are ripped beyond repair, and besides, the blue won't be blue anymore, at least most of it. I offer you something: stay a while longer and our seamstresses will make new ones."

"The same as my old ones?"

"If you insist, the same as your old ones. At least that way, we can ensure you go out here healthy." The Seller nods. These clothes are special to him...he doesn't want to get them replaced, but walking around in shreds isn't much better either.

"They need to be the same as my old." Coming back to his attention, he finally grabs his sword and heads out, with Atsumotchi behind. "Wait, everybody will see the sword!"

"I need my box."

"Alright...have I ever heard this man speak so much at once...maybe the memory loss didn't do him too badly." The medicine seller pretends to have overheard it.

"You're leaving already?" A few maids rush around him and help him tie the Obi. It looks the same, with no difference and to say he is impressed is an understatement. There is a spark of fire that wants to dance while smiling at the sight of this. "Well then, you're not of many words but that's alright. Again, I thank you from the bottom of my heart that you saved us. You are always welcomed here." The maids finally leave after their work is finished. A last glance in the mirror and the Seller is ready to go. He shoulders his belongings and makes his way to the door. It burns inside of him to get out, he's been stuck for too long in one place. In all the time, he hoped to regain a sense of what happened that day, but nothing came back. Everything is empty, not even a shard of the Mononoke hunt. Of an Ōmukade.

"I did my duty," he simply answers Atsumotchi. "Duty..." they make their way to the entrance, through the corridor and past the maids who take care of the castle. "You know, it is interesting to me to see how you dress. You tie your Obi as a woman does." The seller stops in tracks from sliding the Shoji door open. He smiles faintly but it's gone after turning to the man.

"It gives me a unique touch to my appearance." The door opens, fresh air hits him like a wave and he almost jumps out, wouldn't it be for his control. Cool and gentle, lovely to some extent. Calmly, he walks out but looks at the man one more time. He holds one hand up and waves.

"Farewell, Atsumotchi."

"Farewell...medicine seller...farewell..." Upon leaving a good distance, the medicine seller hears a soft sob.

May your loved ones rest in peace, he wants to say but he's already too far away for Atsumotchi to hear.