As precautionary: this story has been updated with two chapters, not one.
Back to business: As you may have noticed now, the characters have their own "real" names and their own personalities. Dangerous for me, but as long as you'll have this story, I'll keep it going.
(As a refresher, Axel is Matt, Roxas is Amber, Sephiroth is Mr. Hunter and Yuffie is Billie. Cloud and Leon have not been named, so if you'd like a shot at naming them do go ahead!
Disclaimer: Except for Mr. Hunter -Easter egg for those who know me well enough-, none of the above names belong to people I know in real life. They were randomly selected with only bias being match in personality.)
* Look out below for the footnotes.
"… Dang it… MATT!"
"WHAT?"
"Where's that script?"
"I'm working on it!"
"Hurry up! We need it right now!"
"I said I'm working on it! Sheesh…"
There was nothing like the ritual pre-lunch shouting match to bring one's mind back down to earth. Already, the events of the convention seemed a little more than a clouded dream… That is, once one overlooked the giant stuffed Pikachu still sitting in Matt's cubicle for no reason other than to annoy and confuse everyone in range. Just as most of us expected, our employer had refused to take it. Its current owner still paid me back so, apart from having a huge yellow distraction in the center of our office, things went pretty much back to normal.
Yet, there were differences now in how I looked at each of my colleagues, especially after having seen them in cosplay. It wasn't only their appearance that had been subjected to change with just one day of being someone else – their entire personalities had seen a shift then, and I wasn't about to forget that for a long time.
A soft tone sounded from my computer, bringing me back to my present state of being. Checking it at once, I found a message from Amber: an attachment of all the photos taken between herself, Matt and my sister during the aforementioned convention. Seeing all those costumed figures anew, it still felt strange to relate them to the people I worked with, and I couldn't help smirking as I scrolled the page, looking over each one in passing…
Then I found the one isolated cluster amongst them, and suddenly I wasn't smirking as much.
"Oh hey, you found it." Elbows perched on my cubicle wall, the lovely lady who had once been "Roxas" peered over my shoulder at the screen. "It's too bad we didn't get that kid's name, huh?"
I huffed in response as I skimmed the photos with Leon to reach the next cluster. That, however, was a long way down. "Why'd you take so many of these?"
"Actually, Matt and I only got the first few," she admitted. "Billie took the rest while you weren't looking."
My finger slowed down then, giving me time to examine the latter photos and accept the statement. "… With or without a costume, she really is a natural Yuffie, isn't she?"
"Hey, she's your sister. Whoa, heads up…!"
No sooner had the warning been issued when our senior approached my cubicle. Looking at him now, mild-mannered Mr. Hunter seemed the other end of the pole from the psychotic character he had been dressed so convincingly as before. Short, neatly combed dark hair framed the face of a kindly father – though we knew the man to be single – and the only thing he had in common with his "alter ego" was his daunting height, the same height that enabled him to easily look down at me now – and across at Amber – from the wall between us.
"I'm getting my grub at the coffeehouse. Either of you want to come with?" he offered, as he usually did at this hour. This time, I took his offer.
"There's that amendment my client wanted, I still need to run it by you." With a hum of acknowledgment, he nodded and beckoned me to follow.
"Hey Sephiroth," Amber suddenly piped up, still perched on the wall and conveniently out of reach. "Could you get me a blueberry muffin? I love those."
At once Mr. Hunter cringed, though that was really the worst he did in his protest. "Stop calling me that. The convention's over!"
"Your friends online call you that!" she pointed out cheekily.
"That's different!"
As though to prove him wrong, Matt paused his script's progress long enough to play One-Winged Angel over his speakers. The boldness in that move, I could only give credit to his brief stint as the loudest Nobody of Organization XIII. With a huff, the older man strode by the Pikachu-laden cubicle and directed a warning finger at the culprit.
"Knock it off, Axel, and you still need that script in as soon as possible."
"Unlike you, I happen to love my new nickname," the lanky one retorted jovially. "Bring back a chocolate cappuccino for me, will you?"
"After what you just did…? No." And insistent to tune out any further protest, he motioned for me to hurry up. "We'll have a long drive and equally long queue time to settle that amendment issue of yours, but we need to go now or we'll be late getting back."
"Yes sir."
True to his word, the drive and a quarter of the queue time were sufficient to thoroughly discuss what to do with my client's request. Untrue to his word, the big softy was already verbally reminding himself to get an extra blueberry muffin and a chocolate cappuccino to go. I hid my smirk quickly when he turned to ask me what I'd like, and instead declined the offer as politely as I could.
"New diet?" he joked.
"New puppy," I corrected. "And until my sister finishes training it, I can't go home with as much as a crumb on my body or else the thing starts jumping all over me."
"A-ah… speaking of your sister, can I ask why she calls you 'Sissy'?"
It was my turn to cringe, except for an entirely different reason. "That would be under the 'embarrassing childhood incident' list."
The three words of that statement explained everything, and my colleague did not comment on the subject any further after that. The queue crawled along, each order seeming to take longer than the last. By the time we got to the counter, I was more than grateful to see the small white card with a marker-scrawled number on it slid to us by the exhausted cashier. Even if it meant more waiting, at least we got to do something… like sit. Or read.
"Mr. Hunter!"
Or notice a vaguely familiar face in the crowd approach us waving. It was a young man of at least part Asian descent, with a head of thick tousled black hair and a pair of semi-rimless glasses on the bridge of his nose. He seemed smaller with the oversized safari jacket he was wrapped in, which did not help much against the much taller man he was greeting. But my senior seemed to recognize him at once, from that softened gaze of his.
"You're later than usual. By now, I figured I'd have missed you." At the comment, he shrugged.
"They nearly wouldn't let me out even for this…! If they didn't have to eat, I'd probably still be-" he stopped short, and the brown eyes behind those plastic lenses focused on me at once. "… Cloud? Man, is that you?"
"He doesn't know you with that thing on your face, you know…"
Without warning, Mr. Hunter reached forward and stole the young man's glasses right off his nose. Just like that, I saw the face that had been in so many of the photos I was still looking at earlier in the same day. The eye color was different, the scar was gone, but that face was still vibrant in my memories.
"Leon," I identified at last. Before I knew it, I was grinning from ear to ear as I instinctively stuck out my hand. "Man, how are you?"
My former partner-in-cosplay needed a second to retrieve his eyewear before he could shake, and in turn answer. "Oh, you know, wage-earning slave to the industry, oppressive regiments… the usual. What about you?"
"Well, you know…" And quite suddenly, I realized at once the revelation that was dropped in my lap, as I stared at Leon with an entirely different light.
Before me was a guy. Leon was, without a doubt, a guy.
As though reading my mind, Leon chuckled bashfully. "Oh yeah, I never did clear that up before I left, did I?"
No, he did not. At least when he wore those glasses, he looked a little more masculine… okay, more boyish than masculine, but it was still something. But already, I could sense the awkward tension starting to drop on us, and a change of subject was in order to keep it at bay.
"You know," I quickly brought up, "we got a lot of pictures from that convention. Have you seen them yet?"
He shook his head, smiling gratefully as he replied verbally, "I'll have to check my mail, see if they're there."
"They aren't," Mr. Hunter interjected from above our heads. "I haven't sent them yet."
"Oh…"
"I'll send them," I offered at once. "Can I get your email?"
"Here," he paused to swipe a napkin from the dispenser and scribbled an address on it before handing it over. Just as he did so, a number was called that caught his attention quickly. "That sounds like mine. Guess I'm running off again."
"No problem." And I meant it. Tucking the napkin into my pocket, I offered my hand a second time. "It's great to see you again, Leon."
"You too, Cloud," he answered. We shook, he grabbed his order, and then we were parting ways once more.
"See you online?"
"Sure."
Though this time, it was not as permanent as I had thought. For some reason, I was happy about that.
Another number was called out, this time ours. With the satchel of fresh hot muffins in my hand and the paper cups of steaming coffee in Mr. Hunter's, we too left the coffeehouse and returned to his car.
"So…" he suddenly declared, "now you know."
"… Yeah," I agreed, still smiling.
"And what are you doing to do about it?"
What was I going to do? It was obvious. First, I would send those photos, and maybe add a little comment somewhere. Then I would… I would…
My smile froze.
I had no idea what I would do.
Yes, that's right. As the poll decided, Leon and Cloud are both guys.
Keep sending me feedback - or voting in the new poll - on what you'd like to see happen from here on in. I'll be looking forward to it.