Wufei glances up when he hears his name, brows lifting as he catches sight of Sephiroth. It's like a splash of cold water to the face, and tension rolls to life in his shoulders.

But the man doesn't move to attack, so maybe the memory of flying through the air... maybe the whole thing really was a dream. Weird.

"I am. You are..." it takes him a second, tracing through the memory, following it. "Sephiroth? Apologies, it's still coming back to me. I think." He's not sure about much right now, and gives his chest an absent rub. The wound from Sephiroth's blade had been in the same place as the gunshot that 'killed' him in the dream world he remembers best.