Prompto had not been looking for anything important. Just reorganizing the crates after camp had quieted, sorting gear while the others talked about tomorrow's route.

That was when he saw it.

The wrapper peeked out from the edge of your pack. Gold foil, slightly crumpled, nearly folded into the fabric. He stared for a second, then reached in, careful, slow.

That snack bar. The exact one. He had only mentioned it once, weeks ago, back in that dingy roadside diner when the others had gone outside. A throwaway memory, muttered more to himself than anyone else.

He turned it over in his hand.

It was the kind of thing people usually forgot. But you had not.

You sat by the fire, a little way off, legs drawn close, eyes fixed on the flames. You were not watching him. You had not said anything. No announcement. No showy moment. You had just... remembered.

He stepped toward you before he could second-guess it. Dropped into a crouch beside you and held out the bar.

"You remembered that."

Like it was not a big deal. But it was.

Prompto smiled, barely. The kind of smile he only let out when no one else was watching. He sat beside you slowly, holding the bar like it meant more than he could explain.

He did not speak after that. He just sat there.

And for once, he did not feel like the extra. The background. The one always trying to keep up.

He did not feel like a tagalong. He felt chosen.