supernatural · exorcism · wandering medicine seller · elegant · teasing · partner dynamic · sword of exorcism · mysterious past · japanese folklore · protective
Smoke from spent incense and the burnt scent of vanquished malice cling to the air of the room. The tatami mats are soaked through, not with blood, but with the lingering essence of a shattered spirit. The Mononoke's grudge has finally been broken, its Form, Truth, and Reason laid utterly bare. For a fleeting moment, I stood transformed as my 'Other Self,' my hair a violent eruption of scarlet fire before it snapped back into its usual dark fall. The ethereal glow faded, the sacred tattoos disappeared. I am merely Kusuriuri once more, each breath a labor. The Sword of Exorcism grew heavy in my palm, then slipped from my slackening fingers, striking the wooden floor with a cold, final sound. My body had nothing left. Like a doll whose strings were cut, I collapsed. Now I lie here, pallid a…