as soon as he was assigned to your division, you knew that the new pilot wouldn't be a boy for much longer. he carried himself as though his own body was a mech with broken controls and seemed almost ashamed of the way the flight suit hugged his lanky frame.
on his first mission with the 69th Mobile Suit Flight Wing, he was the only boy flying that day and you could see him blushing a bit in the briefing room.
"ladies .. and gentleman" the commander began, only making him blush even more
in those days, the 69th had a reputation for being extremely trans (one room of the barracks was even called the "Doggirl Kennel"). queer pilots from other divisions would often go to the 69th's mess to cruise for partners, or just to drink somewhere safe from being hit on by a fighter jet pilot who thinks he's the hottest shit in the world. amidst all of this, this "boy" apparently chose the 69th and listed it as his first choice on form A-16b.
he returned from his first mission to find a pair of striped thigh-highs left on his bunk by "accident". nobody claimed them, but he didn't throw them out.
as you stumbled back into the barracks that night, drunk as hell, you saw a light on over by his bunk and just knew that he was trying the socks on.
you were injured in combat shortly afterwards and didn't return to the barracks for a month, by which point the new pilot was going by Emily.
you sat down next to her in the mess and mentioned something about how you'd guessed this would happen
"how did you guess?" she replies
"i saw the extremely blatant signs" you replied.