We know wherever a Mononoke is, the Medicine Seller is too. So who's that guy?
-Mononoke Fanfic
-No Images belong to me, all credit to there respective owners
-Some of the Mononokes' stories don't belong to me
-Slow updates
-I do not own Mononoke if...
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Previously:
It was then Akio noticed the black claws that made up the woman's nails.
"Ah"
Beneath the veil was a grotesque sight.
Akio swallowed back a scream.
The woman's mouth was ripped all the way to her ears.
---
Red began to dye the room. Akio was no longer in an abandoned restaurant but a place glutted with life and activity. Bouts of coy laughter echoed through the building as delighted moans accompanied them.
Stunned by the sudden transformation, Akio swerved toward the sound of laughter. A fusuma door decorated in rich designs met his gaze. The sliding door depicted a young woman adorned with a neutral smile sat under a newly blossomed sakura tree; her eyes concentrated on the tree. He tore his gaze from the art to the gap between the door and the room.
With his sight, he discovered a woman lying with a man. He couldn't make out their countenances as the back of the woman's head shielded the man's. The ambiance between them was as carefree as immature lovers. They held onto each other, whispering nothing but intoxicatingly sweet words of passion. Akio stared, puzzled why he was witnessing such a scene.
SLAM
Akio jerked as the door banged shut. He began to sweat further when he caught a different door sliding open gradually. This door was decorated with a young woman playing various instruments. The same smile as before adorned her lips; her gaze focused on her side. She was also seated under a sakura tree. His breath shuddered as he reluctantly peered into the chamber.
It was the same couple...no it was the same woman with a different man. Identical to the sight before, the pair lay together, hugging each other tightly as though they were the only survivors in an ended world. However, instead of muttering soft words of love, they roared expressions of scorching desire. The thoughts swirling in Akio's head began to connect.
SLAM
Again, Akio shrank when the door shut violently. Nevertheless, he adapted to the pattern and fronted the following location. Per usual, a youthful woman was displayed on the fusuma. She was sitting on her legs with her hands placed on her lap. Behind her, a samurai had his sword unsheathed and pointed toward the woman's nape; rather than an apathetic smile, she smiled a blossoming grin. What was uncanny was the woman's eyes were glaring directly at Akio as though the picture was observing him.
