Just your average Coffee Shop AU. Or is it?

France x Jeanne

Jeanne's favorite patron at her coffee shop was some guy named Francis. That was all she knew about him, just his name. He would arrive at precisely 10:30 every morning for a cup of coffee and leave at exactly noon. He was kind of secretive, but was absolutely fascinated with her and her life. She didn't find it creepy because he was a very nice guy. The first time they met at the coffee shop, he nearly fell over. She didn't know why, but she did know that he was shocked.

Exactly 154 days after they first met, (yeah yeah, she had been keeping track, it's not a big deal) he arrived one minute late. But when he did arrive, he had one hand behind his back.

"Good morning, Francis!" She called. "The usual?"

"Yes, thank you." He said, keeping his hand out of her sight.

She prepared his coffee, and sat down across from him as they were the only two in the small building. His eyes were teary.

"Is everything alright?" She asked.

"I'm afraid it isn't." He murmured. And with his gaze fixed on the same cup of coffee he had had every morning for 154 days he brought out a rose. A single red rose.

"Jeanne, I have to leave you." His voice was shaky; it was clear he was on the verge of tears.

Jeanne was shocked. "But why?"

"It is something I cannot say."

"Please tell me!" She begged.

Francis sighed. "I'm sorry."

He left the rose on the table as well as the money for the untouched coffee, and got up.

"Hey." Jeanne said sternly. She rose and Francis looked up at her with eyes that looked as if they had seen many hardships and much pain.

"You can't just leave me and not tell me why."

"It is for a reason, but the reason is my burden and my responsibility. Plainly, I should never have met you. This was never meant to be and I am sorry."

Jeanne put her hands on her hips. "Well, that just makes me more confused and more curious."

Francis gestured for her to have a seat and he took the one opposite her again. He gathered the courage to tell her what his boss had forbidden him to say. Why did it have to be so hard? Why wasn't life simple?

"Because how do you tell someone you can't die?" He thought.

"You say I must explain, and yet you won't believe me. But I will try to explain as best I can."

Jeanne nodded, curious.

"I love you. But, there is much more than that. I was not allowed to love you. I have been forbidden to love you. And yet, here you are again, born in a second life. You share the same name but also the same past as the saint, Jeanne D'Arc. Can you remember your past life?"

Jeanne's heart suddenly sent a ping of memory through her body.

She recalled a life and a family. She recalled a love and a lover. She recalled a battle and a war. She recalled a fire, an endless pain, and a young man with blond hair trying to get past men who held him back from her.

"You have remembered."

She gasped and looked up at Francis. It dawned on her that he was the young man who had loved her. And she loved him.

"Although you are mortal and I am not, we can try to maintain a friendship."

"How can I be mortal if I have lived another life?"

"You have been cursed to live again and again, but I was not meant to find you. We have broken fate itself and we will be hunted now that you have remembered."

"I would die for you, Francis."

"But Jeanne," Francis met her fiery gaze, "You already have."

Jeanne remembered Francis in her past life, saying something about his true identity. She could only hear a few words of the explanation repeating in her head. But it was enough.

"I am the physical and personified representation of the Kingdom of France. I am immortal."