Squall might be getting better at building relationships with people, but they were the friendships of soldiers still—sarcastic remarks and working for justice. Physical affection was not something he was used to, but he was okay with that remaining Rinoa’s privileged area. It was strange, but...nice. It reminded him how much they relied on one another, in a way that he didn’t with anyone else. He squeezed her hand slightly, a small gesture to convey all his thoughts.

He didn’t comment on how she would look in a uniform—she was still beautiful in these scrubs—but he also didn’t see her as a SeeD. She wasn’t a mercenary in her heart—she was many things and strong, but just not a mercenary. “Yellow? Orange...?” He trailed off, thinking more of Zell and Quistis. They were not colors for him. Instead of arguing, he gave a customary “Whatever.” He sounded more amused than dismissive, though.