Author's Note: I hope you've kept up on your historical romances. ;) This has been revised a bit from the original version.

~Chapter 1~

A heavy sigh reverberated in the walls of the tastefully decorated salon.

A young fiery haired man sat in a velvet chair carefully put down the weathered text he was reading, and ran a pale hand through erstwhile neat hair.

Dressed to the proverbial nines in casual yet elegant sapphire velvet brocade waistcoat and matching leggings, the figure that once sat proudly and tall in his refined outfit, began to slowly slink lower and lower into a slouch.

Master of the Manor, Samejime Ranmaru, was troubled - troubled by the constant quiet disquiet in his soul. The niggling cold feeling that has persistently ate at him since he could remember.

His self-induced solitude had long since abandoned him, leaving him feeling lost for long months.

His travels and explorations in Asia had ceased abruptly when he had been given the traumatizing news that his grandfather had passed away in his absence. Returning home immediately, he had taken over the household duties and arranged for proper funeral arrangements, hiding his heavy grief until he was allowed stolen moments alone to let stinging tears fall.

Mere months had passed before his younger sister, Yuki, told him about a suitor she was enamoured of - someone whom she had met at the Season's coming out gala. Ranmaru, though surprised at not knowing of such a turn of events, soon learned that the feeling was apparently more than mutual when he arranged to meet the man who had won his sister's heart. Finding him to be a noble and intelligent man with a sincere affection for Yuki, Ranmaru gave his blessing to the young couple as Yuki's brother and guardian.

After a little over a year, the wedding took place and Yuki had moved away to take over as mistress of her new husband's manor, leaving Ranmaru to himself. At first, the emptiness of the house seemed oppressive and he constantly sought out to see the latest plays and attended literary meetings with the bluestockings he knew of.

Wanting to take time to properly honour his grandfather's passing, he had worn traditional black for longer than was customary by their society. Ranmaru prayed to Kami-Sama everyday, humbly asking to preserve the happiness his grandfather had known in life in his afterlife as well as to guide him in his footsteps.

Months passed before he felt he had sufficiently mourned his grandfather, but that was mostly due to the sympathetic visits his sister had bestowed him with. He knew he had worried her, but Ranmaru could not easily let go of the man he could also proudly state had been a father and a Sensei to him. But for the sake of Yuki and her lectures of how grandfather wanted the best for his grandson, Ranmaru began to try to pull his thoughts together and eventually embraced the reality around him once again.

In time, Ranmaru began to slowly realize that the manor was truly his own, and despite the fact that he had enjoyed it more when it was filled with the love and laughter of his family members, he would have to live there for unknown years to come.

Calling upon his own sense of courage, which was quite formidable in its fullest form, Ranmaru hadredecorated a bit. Not so much as to disturb the work his late grandfather had instilled into the manor, but enough to show that it was now his and his alone.

That seemed to help him a little.

Similar efforts to help him try to find appeal to his new ownership of the manor continued. A splendid though not highly public party was thrown in his estate, colourful and sparkling. It was highly talked about thereafter, especially since he was been reputed as some sort of hermit.

It had been an unusual experience for Ranmaru, for since news had hit society about his new status as proprietor of the residence, many a matron began to literally push their daughters at him. Dance cards had been shyly presented to him as well as thrust outright in front of his nose. It had been a trying ordeal to say the least, for not a single lady had sparked any desire in him. They had all been quite demure and well mannered and he could not fault them one whit.

His feelings for the women of his class had befuddled him as well. He had had dalliances with women in his life and they all had quickly came to nought, having only occurred in the first place because of his late grandfather's urgings for him to marry and settle down with children.

But now still, Ranmaru was on his own.

Standing up to look through the large windows in his salon, he watched as the luminous moon slowly rose amongst charcoal lined clouds. The moon had long since comforted him, ever since his childhood. It felt mysterious but still warm somehow.

Gazing at the silver moon with dark brown eyes, he wonderingly observed how it had never seemed so bright to him before - before this night. It seemed more and more beautiful still, an orb of brightness in a pile of shadows. Ranmaru lost himself in its light.

Coming out of a trance after much passed time, Ranmaru resigned himself to rest his heart-weary self into bed. Flicking off the small lamp light, he walked up velvet carpeted steps to his room. Having preferred to dress himself rather having someone do it for him, he had no valet.

Slipping off the expensive attire and into Egyptian cotton pyjamas, he went about his routine. Cleanliness was supposedly next to godliness.

Sitting on his plush bed, he sank down a little as he arched his spine and spun his head slowly around in a circle, hearing small cracks. Sighing as he felt his neck and shoulders stretch and minimally relax, he lay down and pulled thick covers over him.

Laying down, his heavy lidded eyes regarded the right side of his bed. Placing a slightly curled up hand down on the empty pillow beside him, he made a soft wistful sound before he was gently falling into unconsciousness.

The booming echo of thunder startled Ranmaru out of sleep and immediately into a semi-alert sitting position amongst the tangled sheets on his bed. His rapidly pumping heart began to quiet to its normal rhythm as he unwrapped the clinging sheets from his legs. His loud breathing however became an affront to the otherwise quiet of the room.

Standing up, he padded over to the large curtained windows in his room and pulled the cord to swing them open. Nature's violence was unveiled before his sleepy eyes. Heavy drops off rain splattered across his window one after the other, slithering downwards to their end. The reeds of the koi pod whipped at each other frantically as if in madness as little pond was pillaged with translucent silver drops hurling themselves from the sky.

Chimes rung in the air, pervading the stoic silence of the house. Ranmaru looked away from the window, alarmed. Grabbing his robe in own hand, he quickly sought out the library. Unlocking the cheery wood desk drawer, he pulled out a chain with a single brass key. Becoming more and more alert by the second, Ranmaru opened a large mahogany chest, containing a single sword. It had been in their family for centuries, passed on for generations from father to child. His grandfather had not passed it on to him, but Ranmaru knew that he had intended to for he had been had trained by his Sensei in swordsmanship.

It was his most prided possession and now it was needed.

Arming himself, he heard the door chime again and walked quickly to it. Taking a steady breath, he opened the door wide and looked upon the man who had seen it fit to pay his a visit in the ungodly hours of the night.

Standing before him was a soaked rat.

The dark-haired man had hair plastered to his face and eyes, his long black ponytail sagging mightily. A thin cape was the only protection his gentlemen's attire had and it was a pitiful one in the face of nature's wild elements. Despite his tall figure, he looked quite pathetic standing in the rain but Ranmaru had long since learned from his Sensei that the eyes could be deceitful to the mind and remained on his guard.

Ranmaru's shoulders tensed as he observed the stranger's hand lift but merely pushed away the hair suctioned to his face. Prepared to see a man with the face of someone who was touched in the head, he was surprised to be met with dark near-ebony eyes that bespoke of intelligence and mirth. He had not the face of a simpleton, but that simply of a beautiful man.

Small goose pimples began to rise from the skin of the back of his neck and Ranmaru tensed, coming to the conclusion that the chill air of the weather had reached him there. Yet more prickled at his nape as the wanderer spoke.

"Dear Sir, I apologize for disturbing you at this horrendous hour. I am but a late traveler whose carriage was assaulted by the weather and try as I might have to reach my destination, it was not to be."

A cold shiver racked through him as he continued. "I have walked some miles and your manor was like a beacon in this hellish storm. I am hoping that somehow you will somehow play the good Samaritan and be so kind as to allow me asylum from this downpour."

The refined words ineloquently ended on a watery sniffle, which caused the man to fish for his handkerchief. Ranmaru looked on as he tried to overcome his own indecision, watching as the man found the errant piece of cloth only to see that it was sopping with water as well. The situation spoke of potential danger but while looking at the man before him, Ranmaru did not sense he was in the presence of ill intent.

Finally coming to his decision, Ranmaru stood so as to make it obvious he held a sword in his hand. "You may be allowed shelter in my home for this one night. However," Ranmaru lifted his sword, "if you decide to act less than a proper visitor, this silver blade will soon be stained crimson. Understand?"

Dark eyes blinked back at him, obviously taking his position seriously.

Bowing in respect, the man promised, "You will have no trouble form me, Sir. I am most thankful for your great generosity towards me and only wish you allow me to repay you someday." The action caused his black hair to fall back into his eyes, but the silliness of it did not diminish his sincerity in the least.

Ranmaru turned his back to the man, indicating he should follow. As he began to step through the large entryway, he responded simply "Compensation isn't necessary in these kinds of conditions."

Instead of trailing behind, the errant traveler moved to walk beside Ranmaru. Smiling slightly, the man returned, "You should see what I could repay you with before you say that." Ranmaru looked back at him with a blank expression.

"What is your name, Sir?"

Untying the string that held his scarlet cape together, he folded it and moved to place it on the back of the chair that was just beyond the foyer. His expression was that of one seeking permission but Ranmaru ignored it and tilted his head slightly to acknowledge that he was still waiting for his answer.

"Kei Enjouji."
"Of?"
"Of nothing. I am of high class but hold no position over any lands."

Ranmaru did not know what to make of the statement so said nothing in response, only informed Enjouji where he could rest and set about to take him there, but not before pardoning himself to return his weapon to its home. He did not want to use it to kill, despite his threat, for it had known many a person's blood in its long past.

Moreover, Ranmaru was a noteworthy martial artist and could defend himself without the aid of weaponry should something unforeseen happen.

Returning to the waiting stranger quickly, he gestured for the man to follow him up the stairs. As they walked down the hall, he heard the stranger's deep voice speak once again.

"Sir? What is your name?"

The curious question should not have surprised him but it did nonetheless. Suspicion was his first feeling, and responded with a wary "Why?" as he paused in the journey to the unforeseen guest's bedroom.

"So I may know who is being so kind as to take in a stranger without taking anything in return."

Considering his answer, Ranmaru could not help but somewhat admired the ease with which this Kei Enjouji spoke. His words were quick and articulate, flowing off his tongue without exertion. Unlike himself, who struggled with the evasive talent of articulation and felt uneasy in choosing his words without deliberation.

"My name is Samejime Ranmaru, the owner of this estate." This Kei Enjouji seemed to consider his answer as much as Ranmaru had previously considered his.

"It rolls off the tongue. Almost pretty."

Kei Enjouji slowly murmured his name, sounding out each syllable. "Samejime Ranmaru....I like it."

Ranmaru's first reaction to the comment had been indignation, for to say his name was pretty was emasculating. Yet when he had slowly, gently, softly, continued to repeat his name in his mesmerizing voice, Ranmaru became entranced.

"Ranmaru..."

He had so long yearned to hear someone say his name in such a voice, whispering it like a prayer that has been answered.

Onyx eyes looked down into his, and he was caught in the heat of their burning light. Feeling an invisible tug, Ranmaru moved closer to the enigmatic stranger. Kei Enjouji parted his arms and the young swordsman moved into them, feeling the damp overcoat seeping into his clothes greedily.

Laying flat palms against the navy covered chest, pale hands spread out and upward as Ranmaru looked up into the shadowed face above him. Feeling as lost as he had when he had stared at the moon, he did not move as the face lowered and brushed against his cheek. Feeling the cool supple skin against his own warmth broke a shudder free from his body. Delicate lips caressed the outer rim of his right ear with their softness, combing the sensitive flesh.

"Ranmaru...", the man breathed into his ear.

The power wielded in that one word caused Ranmaru to feel a vague sliver of alarm, but the desire to hear it again masked all other emotions.

The face passed his cheek once more and wordless silence feel between them as they regarded each other. The gentle fall of a passing storm was all that was heard.

But it was enough for the spell to be broken.

Ranmaru pulled himself away, strongly perturbed at the turn of events. Glaring at the stranger, he hastily instructed for him to walk to the end of the hall and enter the second door on the right before allowing himself to escape to his own room.

Leaning his forehead against the door, Ranmaru released heavy panting breaths of upset and disbelief. Confused thoughts whirled through his mind like the violent gales of a monsoon. Quickly pushing himself away from the door as well as his increasingly rampant mental commotion with determination, he looked out at the large pane window and surveyed the damage the rain had wrought.

Several reeds had snapped apart in the fury of the rain, floating in shambles on the small koi pond. The long threads of green grass were trudged flat, buried under the weight of the water still dripping from their thin bladed tips. And indifferent to it all, the moon shone its pure innocent glow on the leftover wreckage.

Ranmaru felt empathy for drenched lengths of grass, the koi pond that become a grave for severed reeds. The moonlight included him in its new persona of distance, bypassing his need when he could so recently have used its former comforting aura to assist his thoughts. Evading him now, when he was drowning in the onslaught of new and unfamiliar emotions.

Shifting and wary revelations were born as the sun slowly ascended into the horizon. Small but imperative discoveries became clear as the sky embraced the intense fire of the sun. All because of one passing stranger in need.

And as he walked down the stairs at dawn to make breakfast, Ranmaru passed by the front door to see a small white piece of paper attached.

Reading it silently, he learned one more morsel of knowledge.

He was alone again.

To be continued…