Fate/Writer's Dream: Immagine Speculare

Chapter Five, Memories

     A few days passed, and they became brighter every morning. Liz met up with John at the cafe everyday after their first meet up and talked to him about everything, from the fun things that she wanted to do and to the sad things she's been through. He listened thoroughly and accepted her problems. He never tried to offer solutions, but just listened and understood.

     Today was different. Today he promised Liz to tell more about himself. She wanted to know more about him.

     John... felt familiar. He just did. His appearance, voice, and name seemed to jab at the back of her brain. She knew that she'd seen him somewhere, somehow, but she couldn't remember. It was annoyingly nagging at her mind.

     Liz was walking down the road towards the cafe just like before, her white coat on, and as well as her white tuxedo. She strutted calmly to her destination while her mind was trying to piece her missing memories together.

     Her shadow was calmed and more controlled than before. It no longer strangled her, but instead stayed as her shadow, though she still had no idea how to control it.

     The sun was right above, but slightly uncentered. It was probably eleven. Her meeting with John was at twelve.

     "John..." she muttered to herself. His name rolled off her tongue naturally, as if she's said it hundreds of times before. Why did she feel like she knew him even though they've barely met? Why was his image stuck in her mind? "Who are you john...?"

     It was as if he was directly connected to her scratched out memories. She only needed one more push to have them resurface and find out who he was.

     "No... I'm sure I haven't met him before... but I have, haven't I?" She rubbed the back of her neck and sighed.

     "Hey Liz," John called from down the road. He was waving at her from afar in his usual horrendous mess of clothes, but she was getting used to the sight. It was actually nice to look at since it was so unique.

     Today, it was a soft glow of dirt brown and vomit green. A painful neon pink stained his shoulder, and two hats covered his head. He wore cargo pants with denim patches stitched on to them along with a pair of leather boots that reached up to his knees.

     He approached Liz calmly with his usual smile and messy tan hair, his brown eyes shining through his shades. "How are you today?" he asked.

     "I'm good John. What about you?" She led the way into the cafe and took a seat, John following closely behind.

     "Same as always, just a bit tired today. I stayed up late trying to cook something." He showed her his middle finger. It was covered in a bandage.

     "Ouch, looks like it hurt."

     "No, it's fine. I'm used to getting cut." He lowered his hand and pulled his chair out and sat down. "I used to cook a lot, but I stopped after a bit."

     "Why's that?" Liz asked.

     "I don't know. I just didn't feel like doing so until recently." John looked over at the counter and smiled at the girl working as the cashier.

     The blond joyous girl seemed to be the only person working there. She was there everyday, and it didn't seem like she slept at all, yet her eyes were always filled with energy. She looked up at John and Liz with her own cheery smile.

     "Hi M— John! I see you're here too Liz. It's nice to see you again," she greeted as she ducked back down, the sound of glassware clunking together. "I'm out of supplies today, surprisingly, so I don't have any coffee right now. Oh! I do have some leaf juice!"