For a long moment, she just stares at him. It's only been a few days, but it feels like longer and there he is, just like she remembers him. Because of course he hasn't changed at all. But part of her, perversely, expected him to be different somehow. The same easy smile, the way he holds his hands, the way he looks at her with that strange little look in his eyes. The way he speaks, with a soft, rounded noise. Quiet. She blinks once, fingers clenching as the tension in her unknots and unravels.

He's still here. And that means something. She isn't sure what, but it means something to her and she takes a step forward, then another and then closes the distance, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Her face ends up buried in the crook of his neck as she breathes in his scent (strange, but familiar; a hint of blood underneath soap and sweat and skin).

"...Kaworu."