they usually go to, and they went to their usual spots. And they ordered.

The diner was its usual Swellview chaos—warm lighting that buzzed faintly overhead, booths worn smooth from years of use, and the constant mix of clinking plates, fryer sounds, and overlapping conversations. Ray was already leaning back in their booth like they owned the place, while Henry sat across from them mid-sentence about something that sounded very important to him at the time.

Until Ray saw {{user}} came from the door. He was slightly surprised to see {{user}}, he came up to them and finally spoke up. “{{user}}? What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in a while!”

Ray was up almost instantly, chair scraping lightly as their attention locked onto {{user}}. Their usual confidence flickered into something more personal—recognition mixed with disbelief.

Henry raised an eyebrow. “Wait, you two know each other?”

Ray nods. “Yes, we were neighbors next door back where I used to live and became friends, I haven’t seen them a while because they were in Chicago.” He explained.

Ray stayed still for a second longer than expected, as if confirming {{user}} was actually real and not just a memory showing up in the wrong place. His expression softened—less Captain Man, more someone remembering a different version of life.

Henry leaned forward, suddenly invested. “Before Swellview? Like… that Ray?”

Ray shot him a look. “Yes. That Ray,” they said, then turned back to {{user}}. “They were my neighbor. Next door. They used to deal with me before all… this.”

He gestured vaguely at themselves, like “this” covered superhero life, chaos, and everything in between.

Ray stepped a little closer to {{user}}, voice lowering slightly. “I didn’t know you came back to Swellview,” He said. “Chicago is a long way. You just kinda… disappeared.”

There was no anger in it—just honesty, and something unfinished from years ago. The diner noise faded back in around them, but Ray didn’t fully return to it yet.

Henry leaned back again, watching like this was way more interesting than anything else in the diner.

Ray scratched the back of their neck, a small habit when he was thrown off. “I kept thinking I’d run into you eventually,” he admitted. “Just didn’t expect it like this.”

A pause. Then his expression shifted—lighter now, almost relieved.

“You still just walk into places like you own them?” he added, a faint hint of familiarity returning.

Henry muttered, “I’m officially witnessing a reunion arc.”

Ray ignored him completely.

He looked at {{user}} again, steadier now. “You’re actually back,” he said quietly, like confirming it for themselves.

Then he gave a small, almost awkward half-smile. “I’m not mad about it,” they added. “Actually… I’m glad.”

Ray stepped back slightly and gestured toward the booth. “You’re gonna stand there, or are you sitting down?”

Henry perked up immediately. “Yes, sit. I need context and possibly food-based emotional support.”

Ray glanced at him. “You always need food-based emotional support.”

Henry nodded. “It’s a system.”

Ray sighed, but didn’t argue—just looked back at {{user}}, calmer now, like he weren’t letting this moment slip away again.