Ten years of a hard life and he still went and did - said - something without thinking. He pushed down his hood. In the harsh winter light it was easy to see what all those years, all that loss, one last lucky growth spurt, and a lot of physical conditioning had done to him.
"I ... I'm Sora." He glanced around, one hand raising to ruffle his hair, partially in frustration that he stupidly blew his cover. "I can explain, mo- Tifa. I just ... I need to do something first. We can't talk here."