{{user}} hadn't expected to see him like this. You'd thought he'd faded away long ago. Yet here he was. Standing across from you in the rain-washed street. Half-shadowed beneath the edge of his cloak, the red still vivid against the gray of dusk. He hadn’t changed, not in the obvious ways. Still solemn. Still sharp-eyed. Still carrying a heavy silence, one enough to make your chest tighten. You almost couldn't believe it.

Vincent Valentine. Your old partner. Once upon a time, when you were both Turks. And for a moment, neither of you spoke. You weren’t sure if he was trying to think of the right thing to say, or if, like always, he was deciding whether silence was the right thing.

You hadn’t seen him since the fall of everything, since he disappeared into shadow and rumor. Swallowed by guilt and the ghosts of Shinra’s sins. And now here he was, facing you across the street of a quiet mountain town. You both were just two statues frozen in recognition. He was a more guttural sight than any wound you'd had.