~ Author's Note ~

Namaste, everyone! This is the first time I'm writing a RihaYama fic (and I'm VERY inexperienced with this ship -_-) so please forgive me if it seems too OOC. This is dedicated to my dear friend Lord Nayrael so hope you enjoy it, dearie~! Even though its four days late. ^_^;

Belated happy birthday, Luka!

Gold Beta's note: Folks, I'll settle for this amazing version since the darn light novel still hasn't been translated. Ugh I'm so sick of waiting -_-

~ Summer Rain ~

He remembered their first meeting; it was when he'd been taking shelter from the dratted summer rain.

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"Oh!" a shocked gasp escaped her lips, as she dropped the books she was holding. His surprised amber eyes flickered towards her startled brown ones, an eyebrow involuntarily raising itself.

Rihan had been taking shelter under the gates of an old, abandoned mansion from the sudden downpour of summer rain, before he felt a magnetic aura drawing him in and he decided to whimsically take a walk inside the huge manor. Entering the estate, the first thing he noticed were bright yellow Kerrias that grew near the mansion. The crystalline raindrops dripped off their yellow petals, causing a light, fragrant smell to float in the air.

But realizing he was getting drenched just standing there, Rihan quickly rushed inside, sliding open the dusty door.

The place, despite having broken floorboards and no furniture to show that it belonged to an aristocratic family, looked quite well-kept and neat. The corridors seemed endless and rooms at least a thousand in number, with big, intricate designs carved on the doors. Closing his eyes, the Nura leader could imagine the bustle of activity that existed in this place when it was still inhabited and at its peak.

Images of women, going on with their household chores, seemed to float around the place. The men would probably be staring out of the windows at the pretty drops of Heaven's tears or be enjoying their tea. Opening his amber orbs, he thought about how places and things which were the epitome of joy and warmth could become lifeless and creepy in time.

The inquisitive yokai, having nothing better to do, started peeking into random rooms, which were mostly empty and there were only a very few rooms which still retained some furniture. Down a dark corridor, he suddenly came across a beautiful Ukiyo painting, which had the image of a young lady, fair-skinned and doe-eyed, with strands of her silky-looking black hair escaping her elaborate Hyoko-Yogo.

Rihan had stood for such a long time admiring the painting that he did not hear the door to the adjoining room sliding open and was alerted to the new presence in the corridor only with the "thud" sound of something dropping and a startled exclamation.

The raven-haired yokai, for one of the few times in life, was at a loss for words to say. He could only admire the beauty of the woman who stood in front of him, his eyes shifting from the long, black locks that fell down in delicate strands way past her waist to her peach-colored, quivering lips. But the thing that drew him the most were her eyes; the color of muddy fields on a summer day, filled with warmth and kindness, that swam with the confused emotions of shock, fear and an underlying hint of . . . . . he couldn't name the final emotion.

And then, after he was finally out of his trance, something clicked.

Rihan turned to stare back at the Ukiyo painting that hung solitary on the wall and then back at the nervous lady in front of him. The resemblance was undeniable.

"You look much prettier in real life," some of his confidence bloomed, a smirk pulling up the corners of his lips. The emotions in her eyes changed again; this time a mixture of bashfulness, surprise and mild annoyance swirled in them.

"W-Why" even her voice sounded like the melody of an Angel's harp, grafted with concoctions of honey and sugar, "Thank you?" It sounded more like a question than a statement but then she realized what the major issue there was. "Excuse me but who are you?" she asked, voice a little hesitant, brown orbs staring at him with curiosity.

"Just a person seeking shelter from the rain," Rihan said casually, waving off the subject. The woman just nodded. Listening carefully, he realized the pitter-patter outside had ceased and from a small hole in the ceiling of the manor, a thin, warm ray of sunlight entered, cutting through the dark and dim atmosphere of the corridor. "Well, then," Rihan said, scratching the back of his neck "The rain's stopped so I'll get going now."

The lady remained speechless and he did not glance back to look at her, since he felt there was no need. There was a small spark of sadness and regret in his heart, stopping him from leaving her, but he just brushed it off as hesitance at leaving the company of a beautiful lady.

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He was back again.

Inside one of the rooms, he could hear the chorus of children learning alphabets, their voices enthusiastic and happy. Now and then, they were interjected by a certain sweet and familiar voice, which brought a smile to his face for some reason, so he decided to sit outside and listen for awhile. With his eyes closed, he sat leaning against the door, the voices of children echoing through the mansion. Although he was heavily curious as to what toddlers were doing in a dark, deserted manor, he decided he'd askherlater.

So, without realizing, Rihan fell asleep.

And he was rather rudely awakened by the door sliding open (while he still slept leaning on it) and a chorus of startled and excited gasps.

"My, my," opening an amber eye, the raven-head saw a familiar, pretty face staring at him with mild amusement, "Looks like we have a visitor!" Then, more faces, those of young, confused and surprised children, entered his field of vision.

"Who is he, onee-san?"

"Is he your boyfriend?"

"He is cute!"

"He looks funny!"

"His hair is weird."

Rihan immediately sat up and flicked the boy (who had insulted his Godly hair) on the forehead. "My hair is not funny, you twit," he said placidly. The boy growled at him before rolling up imaginary sleeves.

"Why you-!"

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"You make good tea." Rihan commented as he sat on the veranda, watching the children play in the weedy garden. It was a sunny day after the heavy rainfall yesterday and pretty dewdrops trickled down the leaves, falling on the grassy ground. He held a slightly cracked tea cup in his hand, the fragrant aroma of a hot, steaming liquid filling his nostrils. He wasn't excessively fond of tea but the idea of drinking something made by her excited him.

"It was one of the many things I learned when I was still alive," she replied from beside him on the veranda, watching the children play with tender, motherly eyes. Last time he'd visited, Rihan had found out that those kids were some random, homeless children she found and took care of, giving them shelter, education, food and the most important thing . . . . love.

"You never told me about your past," said the amber-eyed yokai, twirling the cup around, staring at his reflection in it. He felt the atmosphere get a little uncomfortable and saw her visibly stiffen from the corners of his eyes, so to change the topic, he put on a warm smile and joked, "I was just kidding. You don't have to tell m-"

"I was born in a samurai household," she cut in, voice distant and eyes visiting a long gone past. Rihan fully turned to face her now. The joyful screaming of the children got louder as they raced after a beautiful, yellow butterfly. "I had . . . . a wonderful life." She closed her eyes as a serene smile settled on her soft, peach-colored lips – making Rihan almost want to kiss her.

"Mother and father were liberal; they had me schooled in music, literature and culture." She picked up a small dandelion and twirled it on her dainty fingers, smiling wistfully. The gentle and tranquil smile on her face entranced Rihan, as he could not look away. "Art was my favorite," she murmured, as if speaking to herself, "I just loved creating different kinds of paintings, especially sceneries. I wish," she stared up at the sunny sky, as a fish-resembling cloud floated over their heads "I could still paint . . . ."

Rihan cleared his throat, nervous for his next question. It actually wasn't a very sunny question but curiosity had been killing him since a few days. "How did you" he started a little hesitantly but was encouraged by her questioning gaze "Die?"

There was no change in the expression on her face; she still looked solemn, placid, undisturbed. Drawing imaginary circles on the floor next to her, she murmured, "I don't remember . . . ." She closed her eyes, in an effort to remember something, anything. But only blank images flashed through.

Rihan inched a little closer to her, placing his hand on top of hers. She flinched a little at his touch but made no effort to pull her hand away, instead turning to gaze at him. "Do you remember your name?" the raven-haired man asked her, his charming amber eyes holding her innocent brown ones in a steady gaze.

"No . . . . . ." she whispered, slightly shaking her head.

Rihan suddenly bent forward, his hand picking out a yellow Kerria that bloomed beside the veranda. The cheering of children grew louder, as a large group of butterflies, of varying colors and shapes, floated above their heads. Placing the flower behind the flushed lady's ear, he smiled, "Then your name from now on is Yamabuki. Otome Yamabuki."

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It was raining again.

"You know," Otome started, carefully painting on the art paper Rihan brought for her, "You never told me YOUR name."

The pair was seated in a secluded room inside the old mansion; the children having their afternoon nap. Otome was bent over the a large piece of art paper, deftly making strokes and applying a multitude of colors where needed. Even after all these years, she still remembered her art. Rihan lay on his side, head propped up on his elbow as he watched Otome paint, his eyes taking in her lovely figure. He was so lost staring at her that he did not even realize she'd stopped painting and was now glaring at him.

"You can answer my question if you're done staring at me, you know." she pouted, huffing in a playfully angry way.

Rihan smirked and smoothly retorted, "I just want to take in as much of you before I wake up from this wonderful dream."

A rosy pink burst out on her pale cheeks, as she tried to glare at him but miserably failed. Rihan gently laughed at her expression and she turned angrily away from him, huffing in a louder voice. But all Rihan had to do was gently lift a strand of her long locks to his lips and kiss it . . . and she melted again.

"Rihan Nura" he said softly as she turned to stare at him again. "My name's Rihan Nura." Otome said nothing; just continued painting as Rihan lay down on the floor, staring at the gentle pitter-patter of the crystal drops outside the window. Both were silent but happy; words were not needed to express the fondness they felt for each other. Staying with each other, even without exchanging words, was comforting in an odd way.

In time, Otome finished her painting, giggling fondly at it. Rihan was awoken from his shallow sleep and peering over her shoulder, his amber eyes scrutinized the painting to see what was so funny.

A smirk lifted the corners of his lips.

It was a portrait of him – his long, unruly black hair, mischievous yet thoughtful amber eyes, lips pulled up into a playful smile – it was all a striking image of his real persona. And yet, she'd somehow managed to turn into an even more beautiful, more charming, more . . . vivid than he really was. Quite contradictory.

Maybe it was because of those lovely Kerria flowers in the background?

"You weren't kidding when you said you could paint," he complimented, his eyes drinking in the beautiful image. His praise was met with a light-hearted giggle from her, sounding like the chirping of nightingales during spring.

And to think she'd made it all for him . . .

"Otome?" he suddenly piped up.

"Hmm?" she said, looking at him.

For the first time, there was an emotion of . . . nervousness in his confident amber eyes. "W-Will you . . ." now he was stuttering as well? This had to be a first. Otome raised an eyebrow at the red blush that spread across his cheeks. "O-Otome . . . . . WILLYOUBEMYWIFE!" Rihan got up so quickly that Otome, who'd been leaning towards him to clearly hear what he had to say, uttered a small yelp as the impact of his body caused their foreheads to crash. Both the yokai winced and whimpered in pain, rubbing the hurt part of their bodies.

"C-Could you repeat what you just said, Nura-san?" she asked, a small drop of tear forming in the corner of her eye as she rubbed her brow.

Rihan stiffened but visibly confident, took in a deep breath and with a flirtatious smile on his face said in a charming (sexy) voice, "Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife and bearing my children, Otome Yamabuki?"

Otome, who was still rubbing her forehead, took some time to process the words he'd just spoken. But as soon as her mind had run an analysis check over it, it messaged her hand to (dramatically) fall by her side. "You . . . did you just-" she stuttered, face blank and shell-shocked.

"Ask you to be my wife?" Rihan smirked, fully confident now. "Yup, I did." he winked.

Otome continued staring blankly at him before a mischievous smile lit her face. "No," she bluntly replied.

Rihan nodded his head and spoke, "Well, well, of course you'll agree. After all, who can refuse-" Realization hit him like a brick and he opened his eyes wide in exasperation. "DID YOU JUST REFUSE?"

Otome giggled before nodding her head and speaking in her lilting voice, "I'm sorry, Nura-san, but I'm afraid I cannot marry you."

"BUT WHY?"

"Well" she put a thoughtful index finger on her chin but after moments of debating, shrugged. "Just like this."

Rihan had a (-_-) look on his face. "That is not a proper reason."

Otome tilted her head as she smiled at him. "Are you really serious about marrying me, Nura-san?"

Rihan looked at her exasperatedly. "Yes!"

"If you're really so serious then," she started giggling "Make. Me. Marry. You."

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Rihan went home (comically) depressed that day. As he lay on his futon and stared at the ceiling, he could only wonder how he was supposed to make her fall in love with him. "Women these days . . ." he muttered.

How the hell was he supposed to MAKE her accept? He had a few ideas:

Blackmail her (With what?)

Bribe her (Again . . . WITH WHAT?)

Use a love spell (Stupid idea. Things like that DIDN'T exist)

Be patient and take it slow (What was he even SAYING?)

He was out of ideas.

There was a knock on the door. "Come in" Rihan sighed, not really enthusiastic for company.

The door slid open to reveal Kubinashi, who peeked in before entering. "Rihan-sama?" the blond asked, slowly approaching the depressed looking Nura-head. "Is everything alright?"

There was a moment (many moments actually) of silence before Rihan finally decided to speak. "How do you woo women, Kubinashi?" he asked in a sad voice. The rain outside grew heavier and louder.

"E-Eh?" the blonde looked completely taken aback and confused. Rihan just gave him a condescending look before returning to his moping. Kubinashi, seeing as how matters were going, sat down like the matured person he was and cleared his throat. "Well, you could try flirting . . . ."

"Checked."

"Your impish smile . . ."

"Checked."

". . . Love spell?"

"Do you think I'm stupid?"

"Maybe taking it nice and slow would be-"

"Who do you take me for, Kubinashi?"

"Arggggghhhhhhh!" the blond scratched his head in confusion and annoyance and muttered "Then blackmail her with one of your techniques . . ."

Rihan, who'd heard it decided to ignore it when . . .

"GOT IT!" he yelled with such sudden ferocity that Kubinashi jumped 3 feet in the air. Grinning wildly at the blonde, he jumped up with a happy exclamation, kissed Kubinashi and ran out, shouting "You're a genius, Kubinashi!"

The neck-less blonde wiped off Rihan's drool from his lips. "And when I thought he was finally becoming normal . . ."

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"Otome! OTOME!"

The flower ayakashi was woken up by loud shouts echoing from outside the mansion. Putting a blanket over the sleeping children, she drowsily rubbed her eye before shambling towards the window. The night was dark and dreary and thunder and lightning danced with equal ferocity in the black skies.

Who could it be . . .?

She had a clear idea who.

The only one who knew her name.

"Nura-san?" the lady muttered, staring out of the window. There, in all his glory, stood Nura Rihan, drenched, shivering but with a large grin on his face. Otome, however, panicked when she saw his freezing form and immediately rushed outside, wondering what the hell he was doing here in the middle of the night.

As soon as she burst out the front door, in the cold, biting rain, she saw a blue glow surround around him. "Nura . . . san?" Otome muttered, stopping in her tracks.

He seemed to be holding a . . . cup in his hand. And when he blew over it . . .

MAGIC.

Blue flames seemed to light up the area and the flower maiden could only stare in surprise and admiration, her eyes drinking in the scene of the dancing flames that continued to shimmer even under the torrent of merciless rain. The flames moved around with fluid, graceful movements and it was only after a few seconds that she realized they were forming letters of a beautiful, blazing blue . . .

MARRY ME.

"Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, Otome Yamabuki?" Rihan shouted, his voice echoing around the deserted locality. The grin on his face widened at the look of pure fascination and surprise on Otome's face. The flower ayakashi was motionless until a beautiful smile erupted on her face.

You can well imagine what her answer was.

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Rihan sighed as he stared at the large shopping mall in front of him, which was bustling with people pouring in and out like an apiary of bees. Cars honked, people shouted, speakers blared on but strangely . . . a peaceful smile remained on his face.

He remembered those moments like they'd just occurred days ago.

Suddenly, wet drops snapped the Nura head out of his reverie and he stretched out the palm, staring at the graying sky.

The summer rains had come again.