Prologue
A young woman sat quietly on a bench in a park full of flowers, dressed simply in a romantic vintage rose-print dress, her soft auburn curls swept into a loose bun. Spring was in full bloom; nature's rebirth all around her. On her lap was a small notebook, full of scribbles and doodles of food. The recipe she was working on was missing something – but even after more than twenty attempts she couldn't put her finger on it. She sighed and stared off into the flowers, her emerald eyes unfocused as she let her mind wander.
For months, something had been needling at the back of her mind, a memory she just couldn't seem to fully form. She knew she'd never fully remember her past life; the bits and pieces she'd cobbled together all centered on the downfall of the Silver Millennium and the death of her princess, which was what she needed to help protect the newly crowned queen in this life. Still, she felt that whatever this memory was, it was important. The longer it took to form the more frustrated she became.
Drops of rain began darkening her bench as thunder rumbled in the distance. She swore under her breath and started to gather her things into her bag before everything was completely soaked. Her connection to the planet was getting stronger every day, and she needed to learn to control it quickly. The more frustrated she became, the stronger the storm.
Suddenly, the rain stopped. "Would you like to share my umbrella until you get where you need to go?" a deep voice asked. The young woman looked up, stunned and surprised. The memory stirred again. The man holding the umbrella was tall and well-muscled. He was also quite handsome, with a strong jaw, deep blue eyes, and long, thick brown hair. "This spring has been unpredictable at best, weather-wise. I've gotten into the habit of taking one with me everywhere," he said with a boyish grin.
The young woman stood to her full height, surprised to find the man towered over her. She pulled her notebook to her chest, her heart pounding into her ears. "T-thank you," she stuttered quietly. Something was happening, she just wasn't sure what. He was so familiar: the cadence of his voice, the way his eyes crinkled when he grinned – she was sure she'd met this man before.
He held out his hand to shake hers, "I'm Nathan Silverthorn."
"Kino Makoto," she replied back, taking his hand in hers to return the handshake.
Lighting crashed as their hands touched.