The fog (http://community.livejournal.com/paixaoooc/814594.html) hadn't yet hold much of an effect over Zidane; he was still pretty confident in the people he had met, the people he was slowly remembering, and Paixao as a whole. Not that he as a person knew anything about the abnormal weather, only as much as most others: it came every night, and dissipated by day. Why it was able to appear in a domed city was strange enough, but Zidane chalked it up to magic.

Magic was often a good explanation, after all.

So amidst his nightly stroll, he doesn't know what to do when his eyes catch sight of the familiar figure. The same one who he's longed to get home to. He does a double - no, a triple take - before it really begun to sink in.

Dagger. It's Dagger. But how - it doesn't make sense (Paixao never makes sense) - it's felt like it's been so long, what with Cosmos, Chaos, everything. And now... now...

Was she real?

Zidane choked down the uncertainty. Real or not, he couldn't just brush her aside and keep walking. His joy battled his nerves, and finally Zidane, bubbling with excitement, rushed quickly for her. "Dagger! Hey! Dagger!"

Not that he gives her much of a chance of... anything. He has his arms around her, scooping her into the air and swinging her around in a circle.