82 years ago, his whole world changed. Chrono survived the fight with Aion, but now Rosette is gone, and he must deal with his past mistakes, and the demons that come with them. Locking himself away from the world, Chrono has changed for the worst. That is until one day, fate drops a young woman on his doorstep. OC, No pairings Follows,the manga, because the anime is BS. Chrono is a little OOC for reasonable reasons.

A year or so ago, after going on a Chrono Crusade binge, I had a strange dream about a dark Chrono mouring the death of Rosette, and a strange woman that stood at a distance and watched. ((Let us leave out all the juicy spoiler bits.)) The image in my head wouldn't fade away, so after a while, I sat down to try and form a story out of it, and viola. I'm writing this on my phone though, so chances are it won't be that great.

There will be language and violence, be forewarned.

Prologue

Time.

Time was lost to him. The hours, days, years... centuries. Long ago, they had all melded seamlessly together, until he could no longer differentiate between them. There was only one date, one time, that mattered anymore, and it was the only thing that kept him going. Every March, like clockwork, he would return to the shack built into the hill near the cemetery and from there, would venture into town. He would go to a local flower shop, and buy a bouquet of her favorite flowers to lay on her grave.

"Rosette..."

Uttering the name softly to himself, he rose from his chair, and clicked the overhead lamp off. Through the single window in the front room, he could see the soft pinks and golds in the sky giving way to pale blue, and as if on cue, a twittering bird landed on the window sill, and chirped its morning salutations to the sun. He paused for a moment, and watched the bird hop from one foot to the other, before gathering itself up and flying off in a flurry of feathers.

Yes, time no longer held any meaning. There was only one time that mattered to him now...The time to visit the one he loved. Without another thought, he turned and left.

Chicago had changed in the years since he first started visiting it, but he had hardly paid it any mind. The only real thing that ever got his attention was how tall and numerous the buildings were now. As he walked through the busy streets, he absently hoped the flower shop he usually visited was still there. It was a pain in the ass to find another one when they closed down or moved. Turning the corner, he narrowed his eyes, searching as he walked. Ah, good, it was still there. The tiny bell above the door gave a merry "ding" as he pushed the door open, and he was automatically greeted by a cheerful female voice.

"Hello! Welcome to our store, is there anythi-" the voice cut off sharply, and was joined by another much older and more familiar one. "Ah, young man, it's you." Turning his head, he caught the source of two voices. The one at the counter was a young girl he had never seen before. She seemed frozen, stuck midway in conversation. There was still a ghost of a smile on her lips, but her eyes were wide, and her face was slowly growing pale. The second voice belonged to the elderly woman on her knees and nearly out of sight, tending to some flowers in a pot on the floor. He remembered her introducing herself as Aster once. She gave him a warm smile as she stood up and pulled off her gloves, making her way towards him. "You're here earlier than normal. We just opened, so I haven't had the time to make your order yet." He pinned the woman with a sharp look momentarily, but said nothing, and instead turned to a table with a few elegantly arranged roses. Carefully, he plucked a dark colored bloom from a vase, and began to examine it.

Unperturbed, Aster turned to the younger woman. "Right then. Dear, would you be so kind as to gather the wrapping paper and a ribbon I have set on the table in the back?" The old woman turned her attention to the girl, and she shook her head as if to clear it, before bobbing it in confirmation and scurrying off through the door behind her.

Slowly, Aster made her way over to a table that contained pots full of vibrantly colored flowers and began to examine each one carefully before choosing one, and placing it in a vase next to her. As she worked, she stole a glance at the imposing figure still examing the roses, and smiled to herself. She remembered when he first entered her store, so many years ago. Goodness, he had startled and amazed her just the same. He was extremely tall and lean, with shaggy purple hair that reached just past his shoulders, and bright ruby red eyes set above a straight nose, and an even straighter and firm mouth. There was a wicked scar that crossed over his left eye and ear, and it took one year of warm weather for her to discover that he had a matching crisscross of them on his right arm. She had always wanted to ask him about them, but she felt it was not within her rights to pry, and the silent fellow seemed the type to not enjoy being asked personal questions.

"I need a bouquet of lilies. Red, if you have them." Were the only words she had ever heard him utter.

He was such a strange man. She had turned into an old woman since their first meeting, yet he hadn't aged a day. It was peculiar, but like his scars, she never questioned it.

"Grandmother, I got what you asked for." The chirp behind Aster startled her out of her thoughts, and she turned to see her granddaughter puffing slightly behind her. "Thank you dear, now if you could grab some foliage for me, I'd be grateful." Beaming, the girl nodded and bounded off to the other side of the store. "My, must you run child? The plants aren't going anywhere." She called out. Her only answer was a chiming laugh and she sighed, shaking her head lightly. As the girl came skipping back with some decorative leaves and small flowers, Aster began to slowly arrange them into a delicate bouquet. The girl, who had been silently watching her grandmother, suddenly smacked her forehead with her palm. "Oooohh." She groaned. I forgot the ribbon, be right back." As she bounded off again, Aster glanced sideways at the man and was surprised to see him looking in their direction. Their eyes met, and he jerked back to his previous position. Obviously, she wasn't supposed to see that.

"My granddaughter." Aster laughed lightly in confirmation, almost sounding amused. "It's a relief to have her help around here. There's only so much these old bones can do now, and her energy makes this place much more lively." She wound a piece of floral wire around the flowers as she spoke, and used a pair of scissors to cut the stems even. The man paused for a split second, but gave no indication that he had heard her otherwise. She didn't mind his silence, or lack of reactions, she had long since grown used to it. She was about to say something else, but her granddaughter came bursting through the room, waving a dark pink ribbon in the air. "Got it!" She cheered. Aster took the ribbon and waved it at her as if to say "Shame on you for forgetting, young lady" and began to twist it near the base of bouquet. Setting the arrangement down, she gently tied it off into a lovely bow to finish it. Picking it up, she slowly twisted it this way and that before turning to the odd fellow with a nod of satisfaction. Without a word, he placed the rose back in its respective place, and made his way over to the two. As he took the bouquet from her weathered hands, Aster bowed her head, as she always did. "I'm sorry for your loss. Send them an extra prayer for me." She said respectfully. This time though, instead of turning to walk away, the man lingered for a second, and almost as if in afterthought, opened his mouth.

"Thank you."

He then turned on his heel, and left, as if nothing happened, but behind him, Aster's breath hitched, and her eyes were wide. Her granddaughter, whose gaze had been trained on the retreating stranger's back, was suddenly aware of her grandmother, and turned worriedly to her.

"Grandma? Are you alright? Who was that man? "

Aster grinned broadly as her gaze wondered over to the money he had left on the table while she had been busy. "Yes dear, I'm fine. And he's just a loyal customer."

30 long years, and that was the first act of gratitude he had ever shown her.

No the granddaughter isn't the MC of the story, that's why she's nameless. Aster isn't either.