For once, she likely wouldn't have minded if he hadn't been careful with his clawed gauntlet. Yet she seemed even more gentle in her grip as she rose to her feet, knowing perhaps better than most others the condition of the tissue comprising the hand beneath metal and leather. (Not that she would assume.)

Looking into his eyes just once more in an attempt to make some sense of it all, she relented to follow without prying. She couldn't read him no matter how many brief glances except that she couldn't. Perhaps that was why she remained silent, even as they neared the library. There was nothing to be said, and she wasn't one to break the silence save the sound of pulling a small bit of cloth from her coat pocket to dry her cheeks of remaining tears she couldn't hide behind her own mask.

In a way, she was trying to keep her promise to Yuffie. Difficult as it may be with circumstances doing that for her.