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There was a sense of deja vu as Cloud turned over the helmet in his hands, almost a kind of longing for a seemingly simpler past, where he thought he knew where he was and where he would be going henceforth. Not that he ever desired to go back, or really missed those days of troubled teenage boyhood where he had been forced to grow up too fast, though, because considering the unfortunate circumstances otherwise, he was perfectly happy with what he had now.
And what he could possibly lose in an instant if this whole plan went pear shaped, which he was anticipating it would. Assassinating Rufus Shinra with the whole world watching, and with all of Junon and Midgar’s military gathered in the city, was no average weekday activity with minimal risk and consequence. Cloud could imagine himself looking back on this day sometime later on, from within a Shinra prison cell most likely, and wonder why, in hindsight, he had ever thought this was a good idea, why he had given in so easily.
The answer to that was a simple one. Aerith and Tifa were so on board with this plan, so excited to get into disguises, they presented too much of a compelling argument. There could have been no possibility of ever saying no to them. Cloud could hear them now, the shuffling of fabric as they changed into their uniforms, followed by heavy boots against metal flooring as they threw open the doors of their changing cubicles, brandishing machine guns.
The three exchanged amused glances towards each other, eyeing each figure in their respective uniform. There was the sound of a whistle, most likely coming from Aerith’s lips.
“It’s a good fit on you,” she remarked, turning to face Tifa and adjusting the garment around her waist, not that it needed any adjusting. She threw a glance in Cloud’s direction, and winked. “I did say before that I liked a uniform.”
“Uh, when you said ‘uniform’, this kind of get-up wasn’t exactly what I had in mind…” Tifa said, her cheeks turning a visible pink from beneath the visor of her helmet.
“Well, it’s not a Turk uniform, that’s for sure. Now that would be a sight I would like to see.” Aerith directed her attention to Cloud then, putting his own helmet on over his head, making a great fuss about tucking away any loose strands of hair, her knuckles gently brushing his cheek. She almost took it on as a duty, the way in which she would ensure both of her partners received equal doses of her physical affection, where they were both almost as awkward as each other in that regard and often needed gentle coaxing to be unravelled from their tightly coiled shells. Still, she was always patient, always gracious.
Aerith took a step back to observe her handiwork, a finger to her lips in contemplation. “But these ones are pretty cute too.”
“Of all the words, I don’t think ‘cute’ is one I would use right now,” Cloud grumbled as he studied himself in the mirror, scrutinising the way the garments hung off his frame too loosely in some places, and too bunched up in others. Within his peripherals, he could see Tifa sidling up to him, her hands rectifying the belt around his waist and the pauldrons on his shoulders. It made no difference to the overall appearance, but still, he appreciated the sentiment regardless, and even more so having her beside him to quell his increasing nerves.
“For what it’s worth, it suits you better than it does me,” she whispered against the metal of the helmet, a distinct nervous quiver making itself apparent in her voice.
Cloud turned his head away slightly to conceal the tell-tale red blooming into his face. He didn’t believe he would ever get used to the sensations that came from being granted a compliment.
“Right, well… We should get a move on before we attract any suspicion.”
“Yes…” Tifa added, a look of uncertainty crossing her countenance.
“You still want to do this?”
“There’s nowhere to go but onward, I suppose.”
They exchanged a furtive glance, apprehension falling upon the atmosphere of the room like a shroud, and not going unnoticed by Aerith. With a swift motion she took both of their hands in hers, squeezing them tightly and pressing her lips against gloved knuckles, ever the guardian angel who could grant anybody deliverance from tension with such ease.
“Come on, you two, there’s no need to be anxious. It’ll be pretty fun, I think! Barret and Red will be there anyway in case it does go wrong, which it won’t, by the way.” She watched Tifa and Cloud carefully from the corner of her eyes, gauging their expressions. Deep breaths were exhaled in concurrence. “They’ll keep an eye on things from the outside. So, it’ll all be under control, okay?”
“You’re right,” Tifa murmured, giving her a half-smile. Cloud nodded in agreement, wordlessly, but Aerith could gauge from his disposition, the subtle easing of the tension in his shoulders and jaw, that anxiety was no longer so great of an issue, and that the sooner they got this done, were out of Junon, and with it, Shinra territory, they would all be able to take a moment to breathe.
The sounds of footsteps against metal flooring from the hallway outside brought the trio back to the present moment. They took one last brief moment to adjust their disguises, ensuring their faces, and therefore, their incriminating identities, were well hidden within the shadow of their visors. The hands that gave a final squeeze of an arm were persistent in their reassurance, the lips that met each other in a quick embrace were tender, but desperate. They marched out of the changing room with the solemnity of a trooper, towards the direction of the chaos of Junon’s high street.