The sun falls. The moon reigns supreme.
  The nightly gale blows past the dead trees and the dry grass of the forest, bats zooming past the darkened horizon of the dead day. Night bugs lit the path with their luminescent bulbs, with the last ray of sun perishing from plain sight.
  Walking along that path was a Samurai. She was tall and pale, her outfit consisting of red and white, and her dark lavender hair collected into a lengthy ponytail. One could easily mistake her for a man with her strong facial features, as she didnât look her gender.
  She continued to walk a lonely road with the moon collecting its power in front of her. It was a blue moon, and it was that of a very rare sight. She stood in place for a moment, to admire the omnipotent glow of the skies above, before settling down in from of a tall tree. She would sleep here, for the night. She would continue her journey tomorrow.
  Before the warrior took the time to rest, however, she began to polish and sharpen her blade, in case she were to encounter a threat of some sort. The youkai during these hours are quite ravenous and blood thirsty. It was only the wisest thing to do to ready herself for anything.
Ranmaru was walking down the same road she was, albeit, in the opposite direction. He carried a lantern in one hand, clearly devoted to getting to his destination regardless of the time of day. He didnât notice the handsome woman at first, concentrating a bit too much on the moon peeking through the trees lining the path.Â
âAbsolutely beautiful... I wish you could see it, Nobunaga-sama...â
It was 1582. The aftermath of the Honnoji incident. He had wanted to save his lord, or at least die with his lord. But the man insisted otherwise. âKeep moving forward,â Nobunaga had said. It took several of the fleeing women grabbing Ranmaru at Nobunagaâs order to force Ran from that spot.
Tear stains were evident on the young manâs tattered, charred clothing. He cried far too often since that day a week ago. Ran had hoped to avenge Nobunaga- to kill Mitsuhide.. but heâd been beaten to that by Hideyoshi.
It was like he was a ghost, unable to move on to the next life, chained to the land itself. He just decided to wander, a ronin.
He sat himself by a tree not far from the womanâs, resting for but a moment. His feet hurt. He looked up, and saw her, then heard her blade grinding against the whetstone.
â..... maâam, are you alright?â It took him a moment, but he recognized her as a woman. She was handsome beyond belief, but not unlike his pretty face, her appearance belied her.