"I've always liked windows . . . "

Golden claws trace the wooden frame. Crimson eyes gaze through the glass. He looks back at his blonde companion.

"They can show you so many things, even when you're hiding away." A delicate laugh, "So good for analogies, too, you know? For explanations, dreams . . . "

"I guess. I never really thought much about them. They're just pieces of glass."

"They're solid tears." Vincent looks back over his shoulder. Cloud blinks.

"Solid tears . . ?"

"Yeah. You can see things through tears, even when you're hiding, just like widows. Maybe that's why I like them. Because I can't cry."