The sky was perfectly a mix of blue and white. The autumn breeze flew gently passing by. White clouds blocked the sun a little, and it somewhat made the day peacefully melancholic.

Under the sky roamed a man, wearing a blue kimono, a purple bandana over his head. Purple paint was seen above his top lip, and he wore deep red paint under his eyes and the bridge of his nose. He carried a huge yellow box on his back with slow steps.

"Ah, it's Kusuriuri."
"It's really Kusuriuri."
"Kusuriuri has come."

Many knew of him. He sold medicines in all sorts of places. He had medicines for a variety of different diseases.

His face was poker most of the time. He rarely showed anything on his face, not a person wearing his heart on his sleeves.

He was not a man of many words. A quiet person. Only speaking what he needed to speak.

Many who knew him from before, told new buyers.

"He has become even quieter than before."

According to them, before, he actually used to chat a little with people about things here and there, not much, but at least some.

Now, he completely shut himself down from all of it. He would only talk about selling and buying, nothing else.

"Ah, he wasn't much of a chatter box either way. You are reading too much into it." some would laugh and say so.

One such day, the medicine came to a house. He was quiet, as he bowed to the lady of the house.

The lady greeted him, "Greetings, are you here to sell something?"

A nod.

"May I know what?"

There were a few moments of silence before he spoke up, "Medicines, ma'am."

Her face lit up, "Ahhh we definitely do need them now. Come, come." She greeted him inside. The man politely stepped into her house, he seemed to notice there was only a pair of shoes outside aside from his own.

The lady gave him some water, "You must be tired carrying that big box." Her smile was kind, gentle, but her eyes held a very heavy weight.

The man took the glass, "Thank you, ma'am." he didn't refuse it, and drank the water slowly, to which the lady seemed happy with.

She was fairly old, with many strands of white hair present on her head. She seemed to be living alone, although the house was for two people to live in.

"Has anything happened here recently?" The man asked softly, bringing out medicines from his box. He kept his face poker, and his eyes were not visible to the lady from the position she was standing in, as they were hidden beneath his blonde hair.

"Not really. Why do you ask?" The lady asked away.

"Nothing much."

The man brought out a few medicines, "What do you need medicines for, ma'am?"
"Not much, just some cold, stomach ache. Oh, do you have lotion?"

He nodded, as he brought up the medicines for cold, stomach ache and some lotions.

"The house sure has gotten quiet." the lady smiled to herself, "I wonder if Touru would come home today."

The man slightly turned his head to her, as if interested. The lady continued, "If you are wondering, he is my son. Gone for business for days on end now. He was supposed to come home yesterday. But seems like he couldn't make it."

A lone woman with no one to speak to. With a companion at hand, she seemed to find a way to talk her voice out, "He took his son with him too. Well, good for them." she stopped talking, seemingly in a daze.

"Where is your daughter-in-law, ma'am?" The man asked softly.

The lady fell quiet.

"I see." he understood. And didn't ask anything anymore.

"She was a wonderful woman. I...really wished she could have lived to see the day her son becomes an adult." her voice was filled with lament.

"Did she die from a disease?"
"No, it was an accident." the lady sighed.

"I see." the man spoke no more of the lady's daughter-in-law as he started listing out the medicines, distracting her as well.

"Keep the change then." The lady returned the extra money to him.

The man got up from his position, "Thank you, ma'am." he bowed slightly.

With that, he left the house.

She had heard of who he was from other people.

Kusuriuri. A mysterious medicine seller. Anyone who looked at him would say he dressed up peculiarly.

They certainly were right. Just that, the underlying emptiness in his eyes caught her attention.

He looked forlorn, as if grieving for someone. He looked pained, as if there was no one to understand him. He looked tired, as if he was forcefully placed into doing this job of selling medicine.

In the end, she didn't know the source of that look. It could just be sheer emptiness.

She wanted to ask him about it, but refrained from doing so, as she didn't want him to feel uncomfortable.

Another thing had also caught her attention.

The bandages on his hands, covering his almost entire forearms.

As he left, his steps were unhurried. He left quite the impression on her for someone who was just a medicine seller.

Maybe he wasn't just a medicine seller after all.

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"𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑖𝑡? 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑠𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑢𝑠."

𝐴𝑛 𝑢𝑛𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒. 𝐴 𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒.

𝐻𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑑. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚.

𝐻𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑤 𝑎 𝑓𝑒𝑤 𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑠, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠.

𝐿𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑡 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙 𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑎 𝑚𝑎𝑛.

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡. 𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒. 𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑜𝑐𝑢𝑠.

𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑡.

𝑂𝑓 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑖𝑔𝑛 𝑖𝑛𝑣𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑡.

𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙'𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑒 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ. 𝐴𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑜 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ.

𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑐ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑜𝑢𝑡.

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑤, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑘 ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡.

𝑂𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑐𝑒.

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑡ℎ 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑑, 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑑.

𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑒𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠, ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑎𝑙𝑙. 𝑌𝑒𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑚, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡.

𝑇𝑜 𝐾𝑢𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑢𝑟𝑖, 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑒𝑛𝑑.

𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑛𝑜 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚. 𝐻𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦, ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛.

𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑟'𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙. 𝑂𝑓 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒 ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑢𝑥𝑢𝑟𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦.

𝐼𝑓 𝑠ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑢𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟, ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑢𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕 ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑑𝑜 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟.

"𝐼𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠.....𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑡ℎ?"

𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑑𝑎𝑦, ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑢𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑝𝑒𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑒𝑥𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑦.

𝐴𝑠 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑦, 𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑.

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑘𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑂𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑒'𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙, 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠.

𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑘𝑒𝑝𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑖𝑔 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑀𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑘𝑒.

𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑚.

"𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦." 𝐾𝑢𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑢𝑟𝑖 𝑎𝑝𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑. 𝐻𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒.

𝐻𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑜.

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𝐵𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒, ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦, 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑝.

𝐹𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑙𝑦 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑝.

𝐼𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑘 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑑𝑎𝑦.

𝐻𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓. 𝐻𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑. 𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑎𝑛.

"Na, Kusuriuri."
"Yes, ma'am."
"What's with those bandages on your arms? Did you hurt yourself?"

"Yes."

[A/N: Did you understand the tally marks? :3]