Vincent walked ahead with short steps, humming softly as snowflakes clung to his cardigan. Trafalgar followed behind him, matching the old man's slower pace without complaint. Vincent was elderly, and forcing him to rush would have felt… wrong. Trafalgar adjusted naturally, letting his stride ease into something gentler.
He glanced around the streets of Euclid as they made their way through the district.
'I'm noticing so many changes everywhere… new buildings, cleaner streets. It feels good seeing real progress.'
Vincent occasionally turned to ask Trafalgar a small question—harmless things, nothing deep. The old man excelled at small talk. Trafalgar… not so much. Still, he nodded and offered short replies where needed.
At last, Vincent lifted a hand.
"We've arrived, Trafalgar. This is the library."
Trafalgar looked up.
"Hmm. It's bigger than the last one."
Vincent puffed his chest proudly.
