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Owner was often cheerfully smiling, but to hum and giggle to himself every few moments was out of the norm.
Butterfly turned towards Spider, eyebrows pinched in a frown. “What’s up with him?” he asked, befuddlement clear in his voice.
As prosaically as always, Spider replied, “We seem to await a guest this evening. An important one.”
“My favourite dine-and-dasher,” Owner, who had overheard, added, still smiling. He grabbed Butterfly and Spider at one arm each, pulling them along before Butterfly could finish his startled question of Your what? and told them, “Now, there are still many preparations to finish. Work hard you two, for my sake, alright?”
In the evening, Butterfly felt that he had positively run himself ragged completing all the chores that had been foisted onto him by Spider. The work had better be worth it! When Owner picked up his darkness-illuminating lantern and walked solemnly towards the inn’s entrance, Butterfly did not even pretend to hide as he followed in order to take a look at the meaningful guest.
Indeed, when the inn’s doors opened, a figure stood on the brightly lit pathway leading towards the inn, face obscured by an umbrella. Wearing the gaudiest kimono Butterfly had ever seen, drenched in garish colours.
Owner inclined his head as he called out, “Welcome to the Murakumo Inn! We hope you have a pleasant stay.”
The man folded his umbrella, revealing long ash-blond hair and pale skin bedecked with facial painting, and hiked the backpack he carried higher on his shoulders as he came closer.
“Hey, Spider,” Butterfly leaned over, raising a hand to hide as he whispered, “He’s… a human… isn’t he—EEEEK!” The man’s sharp, piercing gaze had darted over to him, which caused a shiver to run down Butterfly’s spine.
A smile pulled at the thin lips, pointy teeth peeking out from it as he replied in a deep, dark voice, “I am just a simple medicine seller.”
“R-Right,” Butterfly acknowledged.
Before he could wither further under the Medicine Seller’s scrutinising gaze, Owner drew their attention as he said, already spinning on his heels, “I will be the one attending to you during your stay. Please follow after me, o esteemed guest, as I will take you to your room.”
The Medicine Seller’s gaze refocused on Owner. “No, no,” he said. Butterfly and Spider exchanged a quick look, both of their eyebrows raised. What did he mean by ‘no’? He came to the inn himself. “I am,” the Medicine Seller started to add, then paused, tapping his finger against his bottom lip twice as if thinking hard, “merely on my way through.”
Owner had stopped in his walk, lantern still softly illuminating the corridor leading further into the inn. He turned, looking over his shoulder, a sardonic smile gracing his face. “Merely on your way through? My, what a rude thing to say. We’re an inn, you know, not a train.”
“Indeed,” the Medicine Seller said. “It’s a most captivating inn.” Then nothing more.
For a few seconds, the scene seemed nearly frozen as nobody moved. Butterfly didn’t even dare to blink. Then Owner heaved a sigh as his expression lost its sharp edge, the smile softening into an indulgent one. “Come along. You might not want to stay overnight, but let me perform my duty of hospitality by serving you a cup of tea.”
“I-I’ll get the tea at once, Owner!” Butterfly seized the opportunity, darting off to fetch a pot of tea. In no way would he forgo the excuse to further observe how this mysterious guest’s stay at the Murakumo Inn would play out.
Much to his disappointment, it remained quite unspectacular. He brought the tea into the large dining room in the lower levels of the inn that Owner had chosen for some reason, but Owner himself poured out the tea for the Medicine Seller and himself. While Butterfly left the room only to crouch down and peer through a tiny gap at the door – where Spider soon joined him; tch, honestly, that guy always pretended to be so high-and-mighty but was really not so above it all! – Owner and the Medicine Seller each sipped their cups of tea in silence.
Owner’s back was to the door, so Butterfly couldn’t see his expression. The Medicine Seller’s was infuriatingly neutral though, as he, between periodic sips, looked around the room.
Eventually, Owner seemed to have finished. He put his cup down, then got up and ambled towards the large backpack the Medicine Seller had carried with himself and which he had put down off to the side. He opened several of the compartments, peering into and rummaging through them. “Do you have any interesting new merchandise?”
The Medicine Seller took another sip. Owner opened another compartment, not waiting for an answer. Something floated up from it. Butterfly squinted, it was a small item, hard to make out, but it was an… ornate and quite beautiful… scale? The scale tilted forward in front of Owner once, as if bowing to him.
“You can judge that for yourself, I’m sure,” the Medicine Seller said in answer to Owner’s question.
“Mhm-hm,” Owner hummed as he carefully took the floating scale in his hand and stowed it away in the box again.
The Medicine Seller’s eyes swivelled to the ceiling, his head tilting back to support the motion. He stared, with no indication of stopping anytime soon, for several long seconds.
Then Owner had made his way over to him and entered his field of vision by leaning forward. “I hope you won’t bother our other guests.”
“Oh?” It was hard to make out from the distance if the Medicine Seller’s expression changed. “Are you hosting any guests—” He and Owner continued looking at each other. For another few moments. Silently. “—I would bother?”
Owner smiled enigmatically. “Just wanted to make sure. You should know that if you do try something, my staff is quite capable.” He pointedly directed his gaze towards the door, directly meeting Spider and Butterfly’s eyes where they peered through the gap. Butterfly shrank back guiltily.
When he had caught his bearings again and resumed his eavesdropping, Owner had wandered back to the spot where he had originally sat. He glanced at the teacup briefly but made no move to refill it. Instead, he stretched his arms over his head, then let himself fall backwards, spreading out on the floor.
The Medicine Seller, likewise, returned his attention to his tea.
Silence permeated the room for a while.
“What brought you to my inn’s front gate this time?” Owner asked, head tilted towards the Medicine Seller. The Medicine Seller showed no reaction. “Or do you plan to stay tight-lipped about that, too?”
The Medicine Seller took a sip of his tea.
“You’re ever the conversationalist. That never changes over all the centuries, I see.” Owner chuckled. He lifted a hand towards the ceiling, watching it. “Not that I don’t have an inkling what brought you here. So despite your secretiveness, the reason would make a poor payment for my hospitality.”
The Medicine Seller, still, did not react.
“When will it not be you who shows up on my doorstep? When will I get to see my Other Half again?” Desperation, the likes of which Butterfly had never heard from Owner before, dripped from the words.
“I’m patient. One has to be patient, living as I do. And yet… It’s been so long. I miss—” Owner interrupted himself, letting out a small, defeated sigh. He continued, but Butterfly wondered if he was truly still talking to his guest. “Maybe there is still something I can do to you so my Other Half appears. A way to appease or scare or delight or maim you, something I haven’t yet tried. Something… What can I do…?”
With a clink, the Medicine Seller set down his teacup.
Smiling wickedly, sharp teeth gleaming, he said, “A Form, a Truth and a Regret would be a start.”
Owner froze for a second. Then laughter bubbled from his throat. His outstretched arm fell down and he pushed his bangs out of his face with it as he writhed on the floor with laughter. “That’s—that’s fair,” he gasped out between gulps of air.
The Medicine Seller watched motionlessly until Owner recovered from his fit.
“Unfortunately, as you might recall, I have no Form or Truth,” Owner eventually said as he moved himself back into a sitting position. “Though my previous proposition still remains: Be my guest and look for them! And if you learn them, be sure to share, I’m interested in learning about them, too.”
“How demanding. From the secret monger,” the Medicine Seller remarked dryly.
“I’m sure the trade would be beneficial for both sides,” Owner said in response, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers.
“So it would seem.”
“Your secret will finally belong to me then.” Owner looked at the lantern he had brought with himself, which was standing and quietly blazing away between them.
“And your regret revealed.”
Silence blanketed the room once more. Though this time, Butterfly felt like the air was stifled and choking him even with him sitting outside of it. The lantern’s flame flared up and flickered erratically, spreading far beyond its supposed confine.
“Who knows what would happen,” Owner said eventually, in a jovial tone.
“Indeed,” the Medicine Seller agreed. Then he got to his feet. “Sojourning here was a pleasure.”
The sarcasm was clearly audible in his words, and yet Owner pretended to gasp and ask in dismay, “You’re leaving so soon? Not even sharing a smoking pipe with me beforehand?”
“My services are needed.” The Medicine Seller slung his backpack back over his shoulders. “Elsewhere.”
“In that case, it can’t be helped. Though… You were a guest of this inn and enjoyed its hospitality.” Now Owner’s voice sounded like he was pouting. “You’re not going to skip out on payment again, are you?”
The Medicine Seller put his hand on his chin as if in thought for a moment, then he kneeled down next to Owner, putting the hand up like a shield as he leaned closer to whisper something into Owner’s ear. Butterfly considered whether it was worth opening the door further and giving his position away, because he could only make out the first few words of, “For the last mononoke I exorcised, I—” and then nothing more.
Soon, Owner started giggling again. “That’s how you got rid of it?! How utterly ridiculous.” He reached for the lantern, taking hold of it. “I suppose this secret works as payment for the tea. I’ll show you the way out.”
Owner got to his feet, too. Butterfly flinched away from his spyhole, quickly trying to decide where he could run off to – the corridor was long and straight, the adjacent rooms… were they occupied? – but luckily, Owner went towards a different set of doors. Butterfly would’ve guessed they’d lead further into the inn, but honestly with the ever-changing layout, he trusted Owner in his judgement.
The same apparently couldn’t be said for the Medicine Seller, since he ignored Owner and instead turned towards the wall opposite from the corridor Butterfly and Spider were crouching in. He shoved the door in it open with force, revealing a pitch-blackness beyond it that could’ve been the night sky but also could’ve been eternal darkness.
“I will find the way on my own,” he said confidently. One of the drawers of his backpack sprung open, several of the scales from before levitating out of it. “No need to trouble yourself.”
The scales floated in front of him into the darkness, building two rows to his left and right as if forming a pathway for him, though not without each of the scales giving a quick bow in Owner’s direction.
“Bye-bye.” Owner waved jollily at the scales procession.
A gust of wind blew into the room, snapping the door shut behind the Medicine Seller. Butterfly found himself breathing a sigh of relief. Just when he was about to elbow Spider and suggest they sneak away, he caught sight of Owner approaching the doors the Medicine Seller had disappeared through. He attempted to slide them open, but they appeared stuck. Butterfly peered closer and spotted a blank paper seal that had been slapped over them.
“Foolish.” Owner started scrubbing at the seal with his finger nails. It stayed in place. “How utterly foolish.” The scrubbing intensified in speed and volume, and Owner continued muttering away under his breath. Butterfly felt at a loss. Cleaning the inn of trash that had been left behind by the guests was not a task Owner should perform personally, but some instinct of his told him not to make his presence known and go into the room to offer his help in that moment.
With a snap, the seal finally broke away, only to go up in flames before it had sailed all the way to the ground.
Owner turned around, and Butterfly pressed his hand in front of his mouth to supress a gasp at seeing the black sclera framing Owner’s irises in an expression full of anger and animosity like none Butterfly had ever seen on his face before.
Still mumbling about foolishness, Owner bit down into the fingernail that had been working on the seal just a few moments ago. Liquid poured from it and Butterfly couldn’t decide whether it was blood or the undefinable gooey substance Owner could turn into when he was hurt. He also couldn’t decide whether they should make a quick escape or whether it was their duty to help Owner. On the verge of panic, he turned towards Spider for guidance.
Then the door in front of them was thrust open with a loud crack and Owner, holding onto the doorframe on both sides, leaned over them with an amused expression.
“Spider, Butterfly… You two managed to sit here in peace and harmony the entire time.” A chuckle. “Really, this is what it takes for you to stop your nagging and bickering?”
Butterfly felt a vague mix of emotions that he couldn’t all name well up in his chest – Embarrassment? Indignation? What else? – but before he could protest, Owner, who seemed to be in an indulgent mood, started patting his and Spider’s heads, and Butterfly was not one to pass up on head pats.