Rightly or wrongly, he takes it at the general unease he caused in most people once they actually see him doing his job. It's a familiar reaction, anything like warmth leeching away to suspicion and neutrality. Sephiroth doesn't question it, he just accepts it. That the true cause is a different form of monster lurking beneath Vincent's skin is ... for now, a mystery. It's always easier to simply blame himself than consider that there might be a different, less familiar explanation.

The scales itched a bit.

The way Vincent moves doesn't suggest serious injury, so he agrees silently with the assessment of 'not enough to matter' and turns instead to his poor battered vehicle. By the time he reaches it to pull the hood up and let the rain blast the hot steel with a bit of coolness, Masamune's once more missing. "I don't see any damage to the engine or battery," is the eventual, soft response. "It won't be comfortable but it should start again. Bad fuel, perhaps."

Or it's not designed for the sort of high RPMs a Fast vehicle can put out, and overheated. By the amount of rising steam, that might be the true cause. "... If you don't mind, I'd like to let it sit for a few." Til the steam stops rising. "The cab's likely to be a bit better than out in the rain."

Vincent might be a stranger, but so long as they're in each other's presence, he felt a bit responsible for the man anyway. Shelter and security for a short time is better than standing in the rain, isn't it?