I Wouldn't Change A Thing

Epilogue

-5 years later-

I wake up and get the coffee pots started. Meanwhile, I slowly head towards the front door. The door unlocks a few minutes later before I step outside, reaching up (especially by the tips of my toes) and trying to change the letters on the board above my shop.

Specials Today:
Onigiri with the house sauce
Sukiyaki
Miso Soup

I smile widely, finishing with the sign. I move my hand over my forehead before lightly brushing away the sweat that had formed while working this morning. Then, I move to flip the sign around, seeing the word Open now instead of the Closed that was previously showing.

I hear the bell chiming causing me to look up and see someone rushing right over towards me. "Mom!" The child-like voice voices out to me. 

The brunet male boy jumps in my arms, a wide smile plastering his face. "Morning to you to Kazumi," I say, keeping my arms wrap around my four year old son.

I lightly brush my nose over his cheek as he laughs lightly. He soon stops and I look at him. He's staring at something down the street, probably five, may be six blocks away. I use my werewolf eye sight to catch a glimpse of what it was.

A purple-haired female, and ghoul by the scent in the air. She seems to have been doing the same thing that I was doing, changing and putting out signs. You know, the regular for trying to open up shop. Something must have catch her attention, though. Immediately, she starts looking around before her eyes land on Kazumi and I. Her eyes widen for a moment. This look in those blue like eyes bore into mine. It's like she's seen someone that she thought was presumed dead. Soon after, she heads back inside. It's a coffee shop since the strong smell of coffee beans hits my nostrils.

"Well that was weird," Kazumi comments. I look down at him laughing slightly.

"You think everything's weird," I comment.

"I do not," Kazumi pouts. I smile slightly at that. It was something he usually did when he didn't like what was said, whether it be truth or it be a lie. My nose lightly brushes over the top of his head we head inside.

I then realize what he was wearing. It was nothing but over sized clothes, but they weren't mine. He's wearing a pair of grey sports shorts with a distinctive shirt. The shirt was blue and has a yellow vertical line going down one of the sides.

"Where did you get these clothes from, Kazumi?" I asks looking at him.

"They were some that I found in the boxes that was left upstairs in the storage room," he says, the smile never faltering. My nose crinkles up.

"At least let me wash the clothes, you don't even know if there's mold in them," I say before rushing him back inside to get redressed in some cleaner closes....plus some that would actually fit him, instead of them being more like my size.

Something about that shirt though, it seems really rather familiar. Like I should know exactly who it belongs to. I frown at that. Damn it! Why can't I ever really remember what really happened in my past before I woke up with no one there except my kids.

A quick blur of something passes by me. My attention snaps towards the source, only to see that there really wasn't any. Just an empty street. "I could've swore," I mumble off towards myself. It seems like a male moving quickly and swiftly. Like they weren't trying to get caught? But what would they be running from?

From the corner of my eye, I catch someone standing on the roof of a nearby building. Someone, a man from the built of them. His back turn towards me with a hood over his head. I watch him, he seems highly focus on something.

Something about him...I don't know....seems familiar. This posture, the stance, the concentration. The answer, seems just like it's right there, hiding, waiting at the surface. Like I can barely even reach out towards it.

That's the thing I hate about this memory loss. I can't remember shit, but all of those feelings, it's all so real. So familiar to him. But I can't place anything. It's just a huge cycle of being annoyed and frustrations.

Soon, the sly male moves fast. My eyes barely have a chance to stay up with the blur that he creates. That speed....that movement...was it...no, I'm just overthinking everything again. It's honestly probably nothing to bad, right? What could possibly become so bad from my overthinking, right?

Oh, that's right....a lot. I can just count about twenty times that it's happen in just the last year. The blur passes right in front of me. Quick all the same, but not quick enough to not leave behind a small scent.

The strong scent of plain, black coffee hits me in the face. A scent that was a regular. The way that the ghouls in the area drink their coffee...but something about that scent...no....may be I'm just imagining things after all.