Just Another Memory

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A/N: Hello Lovelies!  So SashaL and I had to do soo much collaboration for these last two chapters so far.  Mostly it's just been one or the other writing, but not this time.  Anyway, here is another chapter.  I'll try to get another one done in the next few days or something.  I promise it won't take another month... ANYWAY... Vote, comment, send love, whatever makes you happy!

I stared at her as those words echoed in my head. Not Kida.
She seemed familiar all the same, though. I tried to wrack my brain to see if I could remember her at all.

She reached out to help me up and invited me to join her as she walked. I don't really know what compelled me to say yes, but I did. Eventually, we came to a small fountain and sat on its edge.

I hadn't noticed when we first started walking, but she had a basket of flowers in her hand, which she put down between us as I bent over the water to wash my face.

"That cut doesn't look too good," she said, watching me wash my face and cool my face. "Would you like a hand?"

"Naa, I got this," I answered, wincing as the water stung my lip. "Our scars tell stories, and I have many stories to tell."

"Really?" she was pale, gaunt, and tired looking.

"Well, there is this one," I said, pointing to my lip.

"So what is the story?" heavy bags under her eyes, pale lips.

"We haven't finished writing that one yet," I quipped back.


She sat quietly as I scrubbed the last of the dirt and blood from my face. She held out a rag for me to dry my face with, though she hardly said anything. The familiarity was back, but I still couldn't place her. I knew her face, but I couldn't place it. There was a familiar tone to her voice, but it was stronger and weaker than any voice I knew. She possessed a beauty, like a wilting flower, and I wanted to help her. If she really were a wilting flower, I'd put her in a vase of water to help her. When she turned her head ever so slightly, a tiny scar was visible on the end of her nose that also seemed familiar, but my mind could not remember why.

"Why were you crying?" Jasmine asked eventually. "It's kinda unusual for guys to cry in public. Not unheard of! Just... uncommon..."

"I wasn't crying!" I retorted. "My eyes were leaking!"

"That's crying," she deadpanned. 

There was a tired but authoritative air about her.


I sighed. "It's a stupid reason, really."

"Tell me," she said kindly.

"Just a lot of 'what it's' and 'could haves'."

"What happened?" she looked so thin. 

It almost seemed like if you turned her sideways, she would vanish.


"A fragment of a memory that left the conclusion missing."

She frowned in confusion, though she also looked slightly woozy.

"I lost all my memories a while ago," I explained, sitting down next to her as she wove flowers together. "And over time, they've been coming back in little pieces."

"Did you remember something bad?" Jasmine's voice sounded so familiar, yet totally alien.

"More like I remembered being with someone a long time ago, but they're not there anymore, and I don't know why."

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