WHO: Huan Zeng and Sharon Warmoth WHAT: An epic reuniting of well-timing occurs. WHEN: Backdated to Wednesday, March 30th. 10 AM ish. WHERE: Central Park, New York City. WARNINGS: A LOT OF CRYING. AND ANGST. It’s Huan, what else would we expect? And incompletedness shh
Sharon Warmoth would be the first to admit that this day, so far had been insane. It wasn’t even for the usual reasons for her. Any day which had been cleared for more then an hour or two was insane for her. Yet she’d planned on leaving the morning free to do...absolutely nothing. Preposterous for her. Of course, she had things she intended to do. There was a book she’d like to finish. A phone call to make to her cousin, just to stop her aunt from nagging at her. (Which didn’t make sense, as frankly if she was distant shouldn’t she connect with Cassie instead?) Make lunch for her mother and drop it off at her office. Small things, which would take up time but weren’t cemented by any means. It was ridiculous for a girl who barely had a moment free. Yet it wasn’t what made the day insane.
When she’d gone to bed the night before, she’d taken two ibuprofen because of a headache worse then even her depressive time years ago. She wouldn’t have been exaggerating if she claimed her head felt like it was being split open. Waking up, in a groggier state then eight hours of sleep should have given her, and with an additional voice in her head only made the situation worse. Sharon was up in her bed in an instant, head slammed into the wall as the voice began to apologize and explain that she shouldn’t freak out - she was just her reincarnate speaking.
Sharon, of course, wasn’t one to believe in that crap. Because, reincarnation fell under the line of...Buddhism or something. She couldn’t say what, but it didn’t matter. These things didn’t make sense or have any possibility of occurring in the world she lived in. They were never even considered. As the voice (who called herself Rosette Christopher) prattled on about reincarnation being common, having done this before, it only made Sharon more frustrated. She pulled on a track suit, long pants and a jacket that zipped up before heading out. Her cure for being upset by any means was to run. No matter what any girl laughed about in her mind. The subway was taken to Central Park, before Sharon headed for the walking path and beginning to head off. Begging Rosette to shut up only did so much good. Apparently she recognized this as well.
Slowly, after lap after lap, information was eeked out. Rosette was, Sharon granted, a friendly voice in her head. She was willing to share information, easily. Reincarnation was something that happened quite a bit, even if Sharon wasn’t aware of it. (But granted, we try and hide it. Or did. They’ve got a group who’s purpose is just to hide them basically). Last time around, she’d been reincarnated into a guy from the ‘Great War’. (‘Great. Just great. Definitely on my to-wish list, knowing what it’s like to have a dick.’) Who’d died in battle. Whose memories probably would reach Sharon. Just like Rosette’s vaguely were. Sharon unfortunately did have to concede that. They were there, vaguely - just out of reach and hard to distinguish from her own barring the feel. Thinking death sparked two very different memories that nearly caused her to stumble as she ran.
Of course, that didn’t get the insane definition. No. It didn’t end there. Rosette’s summary of her life (Let’s see - I used to be a demon excorcist, with my best friend Chrono. Bit of an obsession and we made a great team because my soul was tied to his. I worked with a local convent, right here in New York City!) didn’t help matters. Nor the wistful tone she kept recalling Chrono. Nor the more melancholic one when she talked about Benoit’s past with a man named Huan. That detail of Benoit didn’t bother Sharon too much - it was more the generalities of this whole thing that ate up at her. Rosette was insistent that this Huan, this man Benoit had loved - and been loved by right before his death - was Chrono reincarnated as well.
And maybe, when your caretaker shows - maybe we could find out if he was. He’d want to know. And I would. Gosh, Sharon, I’m sorry but it’s been such a long time - and if it’s him, I just need to speak with him. He was-
At that of course, Sharon had to cut her off. ‘Your best friend? Honey, you’re acting more like he was your soul mate or something. Some sort of Romeo and Juliet tragedy of doom. Geeze.’ Her steps finally began to slow then, after nearly an hour of the same consistent pace. Her thighs burned and the only clear thought she had was water. She cut off any of Rosette’s attempts to speak - no easy thing for how stubborn and loud the former nun was - until she bought a water bottle at a local stand and returning to the path. Walking as a cool down, Sharon continued the thought.
‘Because honestly? I’d like to remind you that you showed up in my head completely out of the blue. I didn’t ask for this and from what you’re going on about, I’m basically fated to die an early death if you and this Benoit guy is anything to go by?’ She laughed out loud then, not really caring if those that passed her looked at her oddly. Worse, crazier things happened in New York City.
It’s not guaranteed. I just - I’d APPRECIATE it if you did. When your caretaker shows.
‘You’re a little insistent on that. How am I supposed to believe you anyhow? You’re probably just a hallucination. I probably hit my head too hard yesterday or something. I don’t even remember it, this is the side-effect. Or maybe I finally snapped and this is how it’s showing up.’ Furied silence was her answer. It was all Sharon could do not to smirk. There had to be an answer. This didn’t make sense. Even if she had the sneaking suspicion Rosette was just preparing an argument on her end. Sharon took advantage of it to go on, sweeping her eyes across the park. People were being normal, grouped in families - excited to be in New York City - or huddled as they just powered on through. A few people just sat about on benches - books or electronic gadgets that distracted them. Water bottle still in hand, Sharon jogged off towards the nearest one - maybe angled towards it more because the guy fiddling with whatever in his hand was handsome, from what she could see of his face.
‘You know, normal is good. I’d like just a spot of normal now. Rosette, maybe your problem is just because you’re hung up on this guy. Get over him and move on from my head?’ She flopped down on the seat beside the guy, twisting the cap off her bottle. Sharon flashed the guy an apologetic smile - the seat hadn’t been taken and she was making a point to the voice in her head when Rosette finally spoke up, scaring Sharon half to death and sending water flying.
IT’S HIM. Ever since Kira had texted him and told him there was someone he needed to meet at Central Park on Wednesday, Huan had been on edge. All he knew was that he was supposed to be meeting someone here, there’d be crying, and he’d be glad he’d been nice to the demon hunter, Cassie. As far as premonitions went, it wasn’t exactly a whole lot for Huan to go off of. Not that he ever had much to go off of, but not knowing these sorts of things had always made him a little antsy. Those gaping holes in his knowledge let him have a lot of space to play with ideas as to what could happen, and each imagined situation was worse then the last. It was stupid, and he knew it. Kira never would have sent him somewhere dangerous without telling him first... Unless it was vital that he didn’t know beforehand. In which case she would, and Huan wouldn’t have the slightest inkling until the danger sprung out at him.
He’d arrived early at the park when Wednesday finally arrived because he couldn’t stand just pacing around the convent for another minute. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that if he had, he would have gone insane. Of course, that meant he’d had to wait at the park instead, which as he discovered was an even worse wait in some ways. He kept glancing around, wondering who the person he was supposed to meet was. Perhaps that woman by the tree? Or maybe that boy, running down the path. Or it could be-
Huan groaned and leaned forward, burring his head in his hands, his elbows braced on his knees. This wasn’t helping. At all. The meeting would happen when it happened, and if he didn’t stop now he’d worry himself to death. To keep himself focused on other things, he pulled off the slender pocket watch out from under his shirt and examined it while it was still on it’s sturdy chain. It couldn’t tell the time- not by human standards. But if he were to ever make a contract with a human (just the thought made him grimace) then the watch would show just how much of their life was left, ticking down the minutes until they were to die.
In many ways, he hated this watch. Everything in symbolized and reminded him of. The deaths of Mary and Rosette felt fresher in his mind when he looked at it. But he couldn’t bare to throw it away either, or even part with it. There was always the off chance it could be used or needed again in the future (though certainly not by him, he’d rather die then take another’s life through the contract) but mostly he kept it because it had belonged to Rosette. Their time together had been so short, but every memory was more precious then gold to Huan. He had melded with Chrono so long ago that every memory felt like his- not a strangers- and remembering Rosette made him feel less alone. The same went for his memories of Benoit, which were so much fresher in his mind, but all the more painful because of that.
He was dimly aware of someone sitting on the bench next to him and he peeked over at her from the corner of his eye, trying to shake himself from his thoughts. Was she the person he was supposed to talk to? Well, there was only one way to find out. He started to straighten up a little so he could greet her when she jumped as though something had startled her, sending water from her water bottle everywhere. The fact that she’d been so startled made Huan jerk as well, the watch slipping from his fingers and banging down against his chest harmlessly. A few droplets of water had landed on him, but nothing too bad. As for the woman...
“Hey, are you okay?” He fished into his jean pockets for some of those tissues Kira had told him to bring, feeling grateful for the warning, and handed a few to her. “I mean- sassafrass- you look like you just saw a ghost or something.” His eyes flicked over her face, a little worried, but mostly curious. Maybe this was who he was supposed to talk to. ‘I just hope this doesn’t end badly,’ he thought to himself. ‘But it probably will.’ The spilled water was the least of Sharon’s concerns. There’d been enough races where at a water stop she hadn’t more then a sip of her cup of water and just dumped it over her head. It might have been a bit cooler then comfortable to be in a wet outfit, but it was the joy of sportswear. The water would dry, eventually. And in the grand scheme of things, being cold didn’t matter. Rosette’s chatter and insistences, along with the guy - maybe Huan, maybe Chrono, maybe some random guy who seemed to resemble him - did little for her concentration. Memories surfaced up, changing from Rosette’s to Benoit’s - the latter’s matching up too disturbingly to the guy next to her. Offering tissues. This was just too absurd.
‘Shut up. For God’s sake, shut up so I can think.’ Rosette surprisingly did, though Sharon had the vague sense the girl was impatiently holding herself back. Mixed feelings. Great, another thing. She pressed a hand to her forehead, shaking her head at Hu - the guy. “Something like that.” She took the tissues automatically, with an automatic thanks - trying to ignore the sudden memory associated with those hands. Battles, a brief shared moment, agony barely numbing and- ‘ROSETTE FUCKING CONTROL YOURSELF OR SO HELP ME GOD, I WILL LEAVE RIGHT NOW.’ It’s not me , I’m sorry, but that’s part of the whole situation.
Sharon took a deep breath, crumpling the unused tissues. Just had to think before she made a scene. Options were either that a. she was honest to god crazy and needed help now or b. that this was all true. Dreams weren’t an option because of the feeling. Sure there was that movie last year about dreams, but she didn’t buy into that crap. (Or should she? God, her head hurt.) Her hand against her forehead felt real, warmer then she was. A breeze pulled at the hair hanging from her pony-tail - and she’d never, ever dreamt of anything like this.
So, what she needed was proof. She took another deep breath, addressing Rosette. ‘If this is him - if this is somehow the guy you knew in that last life and managed to live unchanged through at least one war - then he’d know about this reincarnate stuff. Right?’ YES. He talked about Joshua and Asmaria, we heard him, Benoit and I. There couldn’t have been ANYONE else. Memory surfaced again, but Sharon focused on the here and now. Not thinking about that. ‘So, it’s as simple as that, right? So all we need is...’ It wasn’t even spoken, but Sharon got it.
She let her eyes shut and slumped back against the bench. “Look, I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m having the most whacked out day. The voice in my head thinks it’s a good idea if I talk to you. What do you think?” She let her hand fall over her eyes, unsure if she wanted him to confirm this or call the psych ward on her. Both seemed equally disastrous right now. Huan simply nodded at her answer, though he still was a bit concerned about the stranger. He edged away from her a little to give her some more space on the bench. Perhaps he’d been wrong, and he was supposed to be talking to so someone else. But then again, he had needed to tissues to help her out... But Kira had said there’d be crying, and that certainly wasn’t what was happening right now. That’s another thing he didn’t like about prophecies like this- there was so much uncertainty in everything he did.
His lips started to twitch into a smile. He could certainly tell her all about ‘whacked out’ days - he’d had more then his fair share of them. When she started to talk about a voice in her head, though, Huan immediately became serious. His heart beat a little harder against his ribs. She was a reincarnate? And apparently her reincarnation knew him, but how? That didn’t make sense. Not that it mattered if it made sense or not. This had to be the person he was supposed to meet today.
“Well,” Huan said slowly as he tucked the spare tissues back into his pocket. “I was told by a woman who can see the future that I was supposed to find someone here today. So I think that maybe that isn’t too bad of an idea, all things considered.” It was a bit of a risk to say something like that, but the words were said and they couldn’t be taken back. Hopefully, she’d believe him. He leaned back against the bench, slinging his arm over the back of it. He’d forgotten that the pocket watch, normally hidden under his shirt, was currently exposed for anyone to see. Including the woman he was talking to. His answer didn’t help much. Another possibility was in mind there - because he wasn’t confirming he was some (demon? devil? good god, she couldn’t keep this shit straight) guy who was in fact immortal or a clone who was Chrono once upon a time. A bunch of people believed in hacks. Those mangy fortune tellers who stole your money to tell you that you’d meet tall, dark, and handsome one day and he’d steal your heart. She cracked open an eye, taking a good look at his face. He didn’t look like a crazy though. But serial killers supposedly didn’t and...
For the love of God, please don’t go down that route. Just. Don’t.
Alright, the voice in her head had a point. Mainly because that sounded like there was something Rosette was leaving out and like hell, did she want anything else to sort out. “Do you have one? From what I gather this thing is common. But...” And then her gaze dropped to the watch hanging about his neck. This time, she didn’t jump. Thankfully. But there was no mistaking her intake of breath and the fact that Rosette went silent. Only a memory was shared, a reminder of time running out, praying that the person you loved most would be there before you had to die-
“You-” She couldn’t get more out, sitting up more and never taking her eyes off of the watch. “You - oh come on. Seriously, after all this?” Sharon’s eyes snapped up. “Look, could you just confirm whether the name Benoit means anything to you? Before I decide that everything from your face, to that watch, to God, all of Rosette’s memories is going to cause a freak out?” “You mean a voice?” It sounded crazy sometimes, saying that sort of thing out-loud. “I did, once, a long time back.” He paused, trying to think of how to explain it. He followed her gaze to the watch and automatically grabbed it, covering it protectively with his hand. She’d already seen it though, and if her small gasp was any indication, she recognized it. Did that mean she was one of his friends? One of Chrono’s friends? ‘Oh God, please don’t be Aion.’
That, however, was not the reaction he’d been expecting. His head was reeling just from those two simple names. Benoit. Rosette. Did those names mean anything to him? What didn’t they mean to him. He didn’t realize it, but he’d grown pale and wide eyed just at the mention, and it was all he could do just to stare at this woman. No- at Rosette. This was Rosette.
“Yes,” he told her, still gaping at her in a sense of shock and disbelief. “Yes, I knew Benoit. Benoit Girard. And Rosette Christopher- oh my God-” Huan didn’t even think. He just reached forward and gently took her face in his hands. She was solid. Warm. Real. He wasn’t imagining things at all. This was honestly happening to him, right now. A lump formed in his throat as a watery grin spread across his face. “It’s you.”
He flung his arms around her neck, holding her tight against him as tears stung his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry about everything. I’m so, so sorry.” He leaned his forehead against her shoulder, not really noticing that his crying was getting her shirt wet. “I promise, I won’t let anything happen to you again. I promise.” Fingers dug into fabric as he hung onto her like she was a lifeline. He never thought, or rather never dared to hope that he’d find Rosette. But here she was. She was right here, and Huan was never going to let her go again. Twice he’d lost her- because now he knew Benoit had been Rosette- and he wasn’t intending on making that mistake a third time. Frazzled was the only word to describe Sharon in those few moments before he spoke. She took in his expression, changing from serious to shock, and tried to tune out Rosette’s gleeful cries of it’s him, it’s really him! Her heart thudded as he went on - she hadn’t said the last name, but memories sifted through and Rosette’s confirmation and frustration of her disbelief. It only cemented things further, sending her into a further state of helplessness. This all was real, every insane bit of it- including the guy - no, Huan - now reaching for her face. In another time, in another moment, she’d freak out or lean closer because of what could be. As it was, she could only offer him a shaky smile - unsure of the meaning because too much was being processed.
The hug that came a moment later was more easily processed. That look in his eyes of relief and regret was too easily admitted as overwhelming. And Sharon didn’t quite want to process why it was easier to deal with a stranger hugging her and crying into a shoulder then just looking at each other. It was easier to act instinctively, perhaps. Shutting her eyes, as if it would help her think, she wrapped her arms about him. His words were muffled but intelligible - things she couldn’t place a reaction to beyond the steady stunned feeling that now pervaded her. She let her head rest against his, repeating in a low voice, “It’s fine - I’m sure it’s not your fault-” It didn’t matter whether that was real or not.
Comfort didn’t always exist in that way and, trusty old guilt and responsibility, said that roundaboutly he was like this because of what she could say. Even while trying to sort herself out she could do this and be useful. It gave her something to focus on, a way to keep moving while seated, with knees knocked and bodies enwrapped. She repeated to herself, as much of a mantra for herself as the repetitions out loud were for him - it’s enough. It’s got to be enough. Huan could only shake his head a little. It was his fault. It was always his fault. Memories of Rosette and Benoit suddenly felt fresh in his mind- leaving her behind so he could fight Aion alone, spending those last few hours at Benoit’s side, watching the person he loved dying- Consciously, he pulled her closer. Not again. Not ever again. He didn’t care anymore if saving her meant revealing himself or ending his own life- he’d do it without a second thought. Whatever it took, he’d do it.
For a couple minutes he just sat there, hugging the woman whose new name he didn’t even know yet, crying into her shoulder. But for all his doubts and painful memories, he also felt like he hadn’t been so happy in years. Decades, even. This was Rosette! Rosette, Chrono’s best friend in the world. Rosette, who was also Benoit whom he’d loved just as much as Chrono loved Rosette. And this time there was no war that they needed to join. No Aion that needed to be stopped from destroying the world. No Germans with their bombs and their poison gases. Just them. Eventually, he had to pull away to fish those extra tissues back out of his pocket, wiping at his eyes and nose, that same watery smile still on his face.
“I just... I can’t believe it. I waited for so long, and I never thought-” he cut himself short. That didn’t matter anymore. Shoving the crumpled tissues back into his pocket, he widened his smile until it looked so much like the one he shared with Benoit that final morning they’d been together. “My name is Huan Zeng, or Chrono. Whichever you want to use is fine by me.” As he kept crying, her mantra did slow. Rosette had quieted to just a feeling in the back of her mind - that same relieved crying that existed before her. It let Sharon think, a little more. There was the reminder, added into it’s enough, I’m Sharon Warmoth, it’s enough, I’m Sharon Warmoth. One of her hands moved to rub a slow circle in his back, like he was a brother - or child she babysat - who’d woken from a bad dream. Slow and steady and calm.
When he finally pulled away, it wasn’t far. She disentangled as he did, hands in lap while he brought out those tissues. A vague thought went that he was probably well trained by his mother - the only guys she’d known who carried tissues with them were those who were real mother’s boys. It shouldn’t have been such a funny thought, but the stress prompted a slight laugh, a touch too close to hysterical for comfort. At least it looked like it was returning his.
She knew it was a stupid question before it came out, but she didn’t stop it. “How long? Were you waiting even before-” And she winced. 1917, Rosette prompted. “Last go around,” Sharon amended. That was vague enough and let her what-the-fuck that this guy was old enough to be her grandfather. At least. Good god, that was only factoring in the War, who said he hadn’t been immortal before he met Benoit, like Rosette’s memories. A hand raised to her forehead, pressing against it for a long moment with closed eyes again. “She said that - I’m Sharon. Sharon Warmoth.” No offer to let him call her Benoit or Rosette. She liked her name as it was and there was enough of an identity crisis as this was. Her hand, warm and solid even through the fabric of his shirt, was comforting to him. It had been a long time since he’d allowed himself such a luxury, and it felt good to do so now. Some men may have felt embarrassed to be caught sobbing so openly, but Huan had long since given up on a sense of shame. With all that he’d been through, he’d learned it was easier to just be himself unabashedly.
Huan visibly stiffened at the question. He didn’t like being questioned about himself, and normally he would have brushed it off or changed the subject or, if pressed, given her a vague answer that really didn’t answer much at all. But she was Rosette. A stranger, but still Rosette. Perhaps a few answers here and there couldn’t hurt too much. “I waited sixty-eight years,” he told her calmly, keeping his voice low and gentle. “And I was nineteen when Chrono first showed up.” If she did the math, it would have been easy to figure that he was over 180 years old.
“Sharon Warmoth.” It was a good, solid name. “Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, to say the least.” Reaching out, he took one of her hands in his own and gave it a gentle squeeze, smiling at her more with his eyes then the rest of his expression. Sitting next to her, it was like something in his life was finally clicking into place. Like everything was starting to right itself. The thought that maybe she wouldn’t want to get to know him had certainly occurred to him - but so far she hadn’t demanded he leave. She’d even comforted him. As much as he knew that his entering his life might make things bad for her, he was selfish enough to hope she’d let him be her friend anyways. Sharon didn’t miss the way he froze at the question. It bothered her more then it logically should have - he was some guy who she was the reincarnated best friend of. Come on. She deserved answers. Or a bunch of other things but...she needed questions. Little distractions to remain in this state, so she didn’t have a complete freak out. Still. She occupied herself with the math - nineteen, sixty-eight, the war had been nearly a hundred years ago and...Jesus Christ. “You get the, ‘you don’t look anywhere near your age’ thing a lot, doncha?” There was a hint of a tease there, shoving aside any freak outs for that. Rosette seemed to approve for cheeriness instead rather, anyhow.
“I make do with it,” was Sharon’s shrug before taking his hand, letting the other curl around the back of the bench, hooking herself in place. Compared to the nickname she’d grown up with, her name was nothing to complain of...Just as Rosette began to cackle at her. ‘Could you be useful, please?’ “You too. Rosette’s been gabbing about you and Chrono since this morning. That and how this all works which is...accurate, from what she said?” It wasn’t as much as she didn’t trust Rosette at this point but that she really wanted confirmation from someone outside her own mind.