Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"At last we meet, my so-called foe.

But is our fate to spray this hate?

Perhaps we'll learn in depths below." 

-----

This is it, the final battle, potentially the battle where she will finally be struck down. If she goes down, the entire world will end a 2nd time.

Was this peace or discord inhabiting her mind? She didn't now. Just as Agent 8 was about to super-jump onto the giant statue powering up a world ending laser she simply didn't know what she felt. 

Only an hour ago, the weary Agent regained their memories and confronted her internalized fears, reaching a level of mental clarity. Agent 8 only wanted a life where she didn't need to hurt no one nor a life where she trained to kidnap creatures to desperately fuel the ambitions of an old, bitter, and pitiful veteran who's era has long since passed. All she wanted was a simple life of dressing however she wanted and to listen to the newest music releases without worry harming another who enjoyed the same melody. 

As soon as it arrived, these thoughts went away as she launched herself toward her final enemy. In this moment she was simply glad to just have the most fun she ever had in her life, even if it was fighting for her freedom in the nightmarish underground. Meeting Craig, Marina, and Pearls was most likely the one of the best moments of her life, and if she were to die here, she would be happy as long as she prevented the end of the world and saved countless lives, even if they were the people she was trained to destroy since birth.

As Agent 8 finally touched down and readied her weapon, she started humming the song which started this whole adventure. It was in fact a heavenly melody which truly etched itself into her soul, yet she didn't even know the name of the song. Just from humming at the start of the build up with all the drums and strings, it started to completely clear her mind of any worries or fears she might have had, by the time the drums and the strings in her head have passed and replaced with the start of the lyrics, the euphoric Agent 8 already felt like she could take on the world. 

She didn't know it, but at this moment her eyes glowed, almost looking like flames were emanating from her eyes, almost like going into a trance. Still humming the song and drowning all unnecessary sounds out, focusing only on that melody, the battle, and her friend's voices. 

Agent 8 never really learnt the exact meaning of the word "nirvana," a term she heard about in an old human history research book, but in that moment she imagined this is what it would've felt like, this feeling of being nothing and everything.

Chapter Text

Has it really been a week already? 

As Agent 8 woke up in bed within her temporary apartment (courtesy of Marina and Pearl), she groggily glanced at the digital clock that frustratingly cannot be changed to Military Time. 5 am, early in the morning once again. Agent 8 always thought once she finally lived on her own she would sleep in no matter what, especially after the exhausting events that took place only days ago, but it seems old habits splat hard.

She sat up on the edge of her bed and looked out the nearby window, immediately being drawn to the early morning sunrise slowly engulfing the colorful and blinking cityscape. It has been 7 days since her borderline historical clash to prevent the destruction of Inkopolis, and by extension, the world. She stared at the neon signs, some of which still not in range of the sunlight, shining brightly as if there were still pockets of the night still lingering in the city. Even after 7 days of the same wake up routine of looking out the window, the mesmerized Agent 8 hasn't got sick of it one bit.

Still somewhat dazed, the sleepy Agent 8 slowly and groggily marched toward the bathroom to quickly freshen up in the mirror. When she looked in the mirror over the sink, she saw a person she was both very familiar with yet still somewhat alien to, but despite everything, it was still her. The red uncut but neatened tentacles which she called her hair, amber eyes, light brown skin, and the neutral face which all these features surrounded. Along with her unchanged face, she still hasn't changed her clothes. It was still the same black leather crop top with a long right arm sleeve and an absent left side sleeve, a black garter belt on her left leg, and black skirt since she was awoken in the underground subway station by Craig Cuttlefish, minus the yellow neon wristbands with her octo-military ID on it. Of course she did wash them regularly as her Octo instincts wouldn't let her sleep otherwise, but by this time Agent 8 would've expected she'd change style by now. Well, she did want to respect Pearl-senpai's wishes:

"Yo, don't go too crazy with the spendin, ya know? Too many things before moving into Agent 3's apartment and we might leave something behind, and I don't want my pops knowing I let someone in his real estate for free!"

Once the half-awakened Agent 8 was done making small facial movements in the mirror to check if anything is funny, she quickly walked over and sat down at a somewhat worn roller chair in front of a single desk which had the book titled "100 Poems from the Shark Tamers," sat atop it. It was one of the few items purchased so far using the allowance Marina-senpai gifted to her, along with a blank journal and pen so that Agent 8 can write down poems when they randomly pop into her head.

"They told me you had gone to ground,

And your rad groove was concrete proof

That you made it safe and sound."

Several entries already written inside since acquired as they seem to appear almost perfectly formed whilst the consciousness of Agent 8 wanders. The one above was written as an entry about Marina, a well known genius and deserter among the octarian army. It was almost like fate, to meet the legendary Octoling in a place like the subway tunnels.

A much smaller yet more emotionally significant item also rested on the table, a small golden ornament. Looking at it by itself, it was simply a hair pin shaped like a takoyaki ball on a toothpick, but to Agent 8 it meant something very special to her. There was an octarian saying in a martial art they taught at her bootcamp: 

“Hitotsu, danshi mon o izureba hyakuman no teki ari.” 

(“When you step beyond your own gate, you face a million enemies.”)

To simply put, once you start your path to self improvement, it will arguably be the most difficult fight in your life, with no end in sight. Yet, somehow, Agent 8 managed to find something good in the deep sea metro. Not something physical, but something mentally, maybe even to go as far as spiritual. To be honest, it was something impossible to put into words, it was simply a feeling. All in all, when Agent 8 finally “made peace” with herself, for lack of a better term, for the moment she felt like the freshest being in the world.

The star-struck Agent 8 has already spent the last 4 days window shopping all 154 stores around her apartment, one day each for every carp-inal direction of the compass. Even with her thinking of Inkopolis as being a fantasy, it was almost everything she hoped for, she was somewhat disappointed how there was a huge lack of any octarian themed, well, ANYTHING. It did not take long for her to learn that Inklings aren't exactly well versed in the existence of Octolings. She recalled the time when a squid kid on the street asked her who her hair stylist was, and although they did call her hair "super ultra great delicious wonderful!", they took a while to understand it was Agent 8's natural hair, still, it (octo)brushed her the wrong way.

After a bit of thinking, unknowingly donning a focused face, the lonesome Agent 8 realized the one big thing she hasn't done in Inkopolis that would have her questioning her mental well being if she didn't do eventually. So she grabbed her hand-me-down phone ("Just remember, don't call any, uh, weird numbers that you see on walls," a worried Marina suggested) and donned on her black high-heels, and set out to do the one thing Inkopolis is famous for.

—

Before Agent 8 did anything else, she wanted to pick something up from the Ammo Knights close by the lobby. There was a challenge posted by Sheldon, the owner of the shop, last time the curious Agent passed by. The first one to complete it within 3 tries would be able to acquire a weapon for free. What is special about this puzzle in particular was that the prize was also the challenge, and if the inquisitive Agent observed correctly, it was a weapon she could easily put together.

As the Agent approached the Ammo Knights, 2 inklings walked out in defeat, assumedly from the puzzle. Pausing to stand at the side of the double door entrance to not get in the way. As the doors swung open, she overheard them talking:

"I thought I knew weapons, but I seriously cannot tell how that thing works, it's like a one of those rainbow-cube puzzles to me." the green haired inkling muttered. "I TOLD you that thing is a mystery, Sheldon probably put it up for free 'cuz he knows it's a weird-ass weapon." replied the orange hair inkling, carrying what seems to be a newly bought weapon.

Agent 8 smiled to herself. Even though it was a small and unimportant conversation to overhear, Agent 8 was relieved and proud that she hasn't yet broken her streak of perfectly understanding Inklish (Inkling language) conversations. Even as a second language, she was pretty proud that she was decently proficient at it despite only recently coming into contact with native speakers.

As they continued walking and talking, the subtly gleeful Agent 8 caught the door as they left before it could close and walked in. Instantly, her senses were bombarded by the sheer amount of weapons on display, which rivals, maybe even beats, the armory where she went to training. The Agent had been to the store last time she went exploring, but didn't have time to fully soak in the selection as she wanted time to look at everything else around town. 

If there was a weapon she knew, it was on the shelfs, including several variations of existing weapons which she wasn't even aware existed. If she was reading the labels correctly (squinting to make sure): a 12-gallon carbon roller, a '45 N-ZAP with laser-sighting, and a phased Lunar blaster in 40-quart range? She had a hard time with the last one, unable to tell if it was an in-house modification or if her Inklish comprehension streak just ended.

Sheldon, who seems to be handling something beneath the counter, noticed the Agent who was visually absorbing everything in the store, not aware her mouth was hanging open, and immediately perked up. 

"Ah, hello! Welcome to Ammoknights! I haven't seen you before, I take it you are new to the city?"

After a second to pry her eyes away from taking one last look at the shelf marked 'Duelie 9-milliliter,' the awed Agent gathered herself and remembered what she came here to do, writing a mental note to really look through everything once she has the resources to spend. She turned to Sheldon and nodded shyly, somewhat embarrassed and overwhelmed. As Sheldon came out from behind the counter and walked closer to the Agent, he squinted at her to confirm what his goggled covered eyes were seeing.

"Another Octoling I see!" the curious crab remarked excitedly.

Another? 

The word darted across the Agent's mind.

"Is the Octarian military finally ending their mandatory drafting?"

Caught off guard again from the mention of another and the question, Agent 8 hadn't thought of any answers she could throw out to this awkward question, Sheldon seemed to recognize this look in her face and dismissed the question.

"Ah, I won't press, it's not relevant." 

He puts the palms of his hands together.

"Anyway, how can I help you? Looking for a starter weapon so you can participate in the turf wars?"

Finally getting back on track, the Agent looked at the poster on the wall advertising the puzzle challenge.

"You're here for the challenge, huh?" Sheldon inquired, immediately going behind the counter to get the puzzle ready. 

"I guess I expected had too much faith in inkling history education, hehe," 

Sheldon chuckled as he continued as his hands pulled out a bunch of parts seemingly out of nowhere and laid them out on the countertop.

"I think this is a weapon you should be acquainted with, given its history in traditional Ocatarian culture and all."

With these words, it confirmed exactly what Agent 8 was hoping for. With the final parts presented to her, she was immediately about to recognize the parts of the weapon she was picturing. Before she did anything else, Sheldon started listing the conditions of the puzzle.

"This challenge is simple, first arrange the weapon parts into its basic form, then figure out what the last missing part is out of a selection of parts I have piled up here," motioning toward a small jumbled up pile of . . . things.

"Solve the puzzle and I'll assemble the weapon and you get to keep it, absolutely free!" concluded Sheldon, with a smile and the energy of those tv ad presenters for weirdly specific products that Agent 8 saw on the public tvs. 

Right away, she got to work, humming a tune she knew well, and picked out the parts she recognized as parts of the weapon, and arranged them in the way she remembered seeing them. The carbon black frame, the perfectly shaped grip, and the elegantly forged cellulose edge.

It already looked about done, but there was something missing about it, something small enough that it caused the weapon to look off but also look whole to an uneducated eye. This clearly was the last catch that Sheldon mentioned, where she needs to find the final part out of the random assortment of things piled upon the counter. 

As she picked through the bits and pieces, the attentive Octoling tried to recall the exact look of the finished product. Right before she was about to give up and just pick a part at random, she noticed a small slightly stained sponge cube. It was a curious thing, it was the only soft part in the entire pile and was as big as 2 thumbs put parallel to each other. 

The Agent wasn't 100% sure, but she was (mostly) confident this was the final part. Do or dye at this point, the Agent thought to herself as she hesitantly picked up the spongy cube and relocated it to the loose frame of the weapon. Sheldon, who was looking over her shoulder, raised a single "eyebrow." 

"Final answer?" the interested Sheldon confirmed. 

"Yeah." Agent 8 finally muttered, still somewhat tense, staring at the disassembled weapon, hoping the puzzle master doesn't ask her where the last piece goes. 

A few seconds passed in silence as both sat still. She looked over at him to make sure he heard her, and saw a satisfied looking Sheldon looking back.

"Congratulations! You passed with flying ink!" Sheldon exclaimed, hands still being held together. 

"Let me put it together and you can be on your way to battle," he paused as he positioned himself behind the counter, opposite of the relieved Agent. "Usually, I have to ask for a player ID so I can register a weapon, but because this isn't a traditional turf war weapon it should be fine if you register it as a custom weapon when you register yourself."

Soon, Sheldon got to work with putting the weapon together with the proper tools and whatnot. As he worked, Agent 8 took another look around the store, noticing how every single weapon was impeccably maintained and cleaned down to the screw.

One weapon did catch her eye the most: A very long metallic looking weapon with a rather large tank acting as the stock. Judging from the barrel length it was a charger, a powerful one. Just judging from materials it was a very high quality weapon, not something you would have seen in the octarian military, which was essentially running on drinking straws as legs last time she checked.

"That," Shelden announced without looking up, "is a E-liter 4k, which I argue is the most powerful charger in the world. With its pressurized polymer construction, the E-liter 4K has a remarkably long range, even for a charger!" He pauses, carefully putting his tools down, marking the completion of the repair process. "This model offers a more compact design than the original, which has cut into its range slightly, but it still has plenty of reach." 

Very cool, fresh they may say, definitely a charger for that's going on her shopping list. This sick thing looks like it can pierce several layers of octarian trooper shielding while still inking several meters past them. It would be relaxing to just sit out of danger yet still have a presence in the battle.

"So here it is," Sheldon called from the counter, "a genuine Splatana of the wiper variant." Agent 8 stepped up to the weapon and feasted her eyes upon it. Splatanas were an iconic thing in traditional Octo culture, not really as a practical combat weapon but as a sign of status. Recalling her childhood in the army, she remembered hearing legends stating that General Octavio was said to have a pure steel Splatana, made for cutting off limbs to grow into new soldiers. 

Of course, these were rumors, but it was a sign of how these weapons were seen as legendary, even though a Splatana user would have been outclassed by most other alternative weapons. Even so, the nostalgic Agent always wanted to use one in combat, as she used to to swing a stick around like a Splatana, imagining the razor sharp ink flying out with each swing.

She picked up the sword and looked down the spine to check the sponge-alignment. A perfect line, it was if you could throw a curling bomb right ontop of it without it loosing balance. Infact, this Splatana seemed a little longer than the ones she remembered in the history books. Perhaps it was a unique family heirloom?

"By the way," Sheldon imparted, "that Splatana came from another Octoling who wanted to sell it to me for Gs about a few months ago. Of course, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to study such an important historical weapon," the crab hesitated, "and perhaps reverse engineer it to make a mass produced version," the cheeky crab slightly smiled.

"Once I was done with R&D, I didn't really know what to do with it. It didn't feel right keeping it and I definitely didn't want some random inkling buying it and shelving it out of ignorance," he adjusts his goggles back to normal, "so I put the challenge up so only someone, like you, with knowledge of the weapon would claim it, and give it a good home. At the very least respect its history and/or engineering if they never used it."

Agent 8 would've loved to hear more about these details from the weaponsmith as she always was somewhat of a weapon-nerd, but now she was excited to actually get into a real turf battle first and test out this fancy weapon. After she wrapped things up with Sheldon (and also received the complimentary sub-weapon and special kit), the prepared Agent finally left the store, confident that she was ready and motivated to have a legitimate, first ever Inkopolis turf war: now with 100% less city-obliterating lasers!

Chapter Text

Of all the things the naive Agent thought of when she dreamed of integrating into society, she completely overlooked the amount of paperwork (all done on electronics) it took to register everything into the turf war system. Before she could even take a step further into the turf war's matchmaking building, the front desk sent her to a terminal off to the side to get Agent 8 and her items registered. What followed soon was an annoyingly long battle.

For starters, it never crossed her mind she would need to actually create a name for herself. Thinking about it now, she realized how awful it was how the Octarian army never had names for the Octos and only called them by their birth number, probably intentionally making it incredibly difficult to really form their own identity. Even her current "name" was just a shortened version of her full number.

This was a surprisingly arduous task, she remembered fondly in her time where a fellow Octoling misremembered her number as 10,007 and nicknamed her "Nana" after an old human word for 7. She rather liked the name, even with the feeling of it not being exactly right being called "7," when she is actually an "8." 

After a while of brainstorming, staring at the registration computer screen, finger fiddling a lock of her hair, and zoning out to the background talk of the lobby system's front desk, and in general being unable to come up with a original name she liked, the Agent finally decided to just copy the idea of her peer and use the same old human language's word for her actual number: Hachi. Hachi was a name she also chose because it was based on the name of an old but incredibly strong and harsh Octoling named Heihachi, who was a martial arts instructor at her childhood boot camp.

Hachi grinned to herself, imagining a world where even inklings only need to hear this name to have a chill run down their backs, much like how Hachi and her Octoling peers back then hear the instructors on the list of instructors they were to have that day.

The rest of the documentation was smooth sailing afterward as Hachi only needed to register her newly acquired Splatana and its other gadgets: a throwable torpedo and an ultra-stamp kit. Once that was done, it was followed by an extremely and unreasonably long list of terms and conditions, the amount of pages to the document was absurd to Hachi, and she unfortunately spent a good amount of time reading it, ignorant that basically everyone just agreed automatically.

Most of it was just the same thing repeated in extremely specific terminology. 90% was very obvious things like no illegal weapon mods or non-ink projectile weapons, but some made her question if there was a story behind some of these rules. What in the cods world happened that made the writers feel like they needed to include a rule stating "Players who are caught forcefully disrobing others will be kicked out and potentially liable to suspension and/or bans?" 

Once everything was registered, the jellys who ran the front desk (who were surprised and completely forgot about her presence due to the time it took for her to read the terms and conditions), sent the antsy Hachi her way in. Now only a few steps away from getting into a match and also getting paid, her excitement rose even further. Before she knew it, she was in a room where the walls were made of colorful and ever changing LED lights, constantly changing into different moving patterns, as if the building was casually holding a portal to another world.

—

It was a bit of a blur what happened next, she remembered being notified players were found after a while of listening to the lobby music, then suddenly found herself at a spawn pad with 3 other inklings, all with orange colored ink and hair. Just taking a quick look around made it clear it was some sort of art museum, as sculptures and imagery were plastered almost everywhere she looked. 

"Cod damn it, this is like the fourth game in a row at Inkblot Academy!" an irritated spiky orange-haired inkling boy said to no one in particular. 

The other inklings ignored his comment. One with a buzz-cut, standing behind the Spiky inkling's right side, simply stood in a bored pose with their Squelcher, waiting for the game to start. An inkling with the "banger" hairstyle was standing to the right of Hachi was trying to subtly eyeball her peculiar weapon and at Hachi directly, but completely failing, obviously trying to figure out why this inkling and her weapon looked so different. As Hachi made eye contact, she simply flashed a small and friendly smile, causing the inkling to quickly look away in embarrassment, slightly blushing.

After a few seconds a speaker that was part of the spawn pad they all stood on declared 2 words very loudly: 

"Ready? GO!" 

Before Hachi knew it, all 3 of her teammates started coating their spawn base all at the same time while a snazzy song with a piano and trumpet started up, quickly rising and falling like a ripple in water. It was for sure a song Hachi has got to find the name of once she has a music player. After a second to fully register the start of the round she quickly followed her teammates to a spot where a weird rock sculpture on a stand stood in the middle, just stopping as her 3 teammates jumped down into the main battle arena. 

Yet again, she had another moment of painful realization: she didn't even test the Splatana in a training arena before joining a match, meaning that Hachi didn't even know how to even use the ink in her tank. Before she could even form a grimace on her face, she witnessed a skirmish to her left between Buzzcut and a blue haired inkling with slicked back hair with a Splattershot Jr.

Peeking out from the right side of a massive block of black and white stone, Buzz-cut tagged Slick with a few Squelcher shots, out ranging their Splattershot Jr. With quick thinking, Slick threw a splat bomb right next to the cube, causing Buzz-cut to pull back behind the stone. Slick took advantage of this blind spot to swim up the stone, emerging on top, perfect position to ambush the unaware orange.

Guess Hachi wasn't allowed to have a moment to spare in this game, it felt even faster than her time in the subway tunnels. In a split-second, she spurred herself to action, gripping the Splatana firmly, and recalled a motion with the Splatana she remembered seeing in her Octarian traditional history books.

Without hesitating, she quickly pulled the Splatana behind her then swung upward, as if using a fishing net. Despite her not putting her full power behind the swing, it launched a swift, tall and curved orange projectile. The projectile, which was a little taller than an average inkling, flew on a crash course straight toward the unsuspecting enemy. It looked razor sharp despite being made of ink and retained its form for the whole trip, leaving a thick trail of ink where it flew, right until it crashed right into the blue inkling's head, who realized what was about to happen in a few milliseconds. With a helpless half surprised and half panicked look on their face, they popped like a balloon, causing them to make a rather painful "bwAH!" noise with their mouth, and leaving behind their blaster and loose clothes behind where they once stood.

Hachi has splattered many adversaries before in her time fighting her life in the underground, enemies who greatly outnumbered her, combatants with vast more experience and skill than her, even antagonists with city destroying power, but despite that she was left frozen in her swinging stance surprised she managed to save her teammate in that split second. The battle music was now entering a wild piano heavy section, as if to match up with Hachi's mind blanking out. 

Adrenaline coursing through her body, she stood there dumbfounded at her achievement, Buzzcut simply shouted at her happily with a very thankful "Booyah!" and briskly started to advance forward, inking everything in their path toward the enemy base. 

That felt great. 

These were the only words that could really summarize what was in her head that moment. She didn't think these words directly, but it was the most accurate answer if you asked her at that moment how she felt. It was Hachi's first splat outside of life-or-death combat. For once she didn't have a slight sharp pain of pity or sadness, a feeling that usually came when she fought the sanitized beings in the deep sea metro. Not only that, but she was still left with a feeling of happiness that usually accompanied with saving a comrade in arms. It simply felt good. Hachi could feel it, this was the next chapter in her new life where she planned to be as happy as she could possibly be.

Before she spent any more time doing an impression of an ancient Octarian warrior on tapestry, she quickly snapped herself back into motion and joined everyone else in the mosh pit. It was so action-packed she couldn't remember everything that happened in great detail, but a moment she very well remembered was the moment the inkling she splatted came back for revenge. With a wicked smile, they got their payback by catching Hachi off guard while sharking in a nearby puddle and splatting her with the same Splattershot Jr. that was intended for her teammate.

Perhaps there was a small bit of malice in the ambush, but only in the sense of competitiveness. As she respawned at the base, she could simply run back into the fray with excitement and a look of pure fun on her face, a look which would've been impossible to form only a week ago. 

To be honest, she didn't do too well for the rest of the game, lowest points with only 2 splats (the 2nd being the result of accidentally letting the Splatana slip out of her hand mid-swing and hitting an unfortunate blue inkling square in the head on its way down). To be honest, she expected her past experience to bring her a bit more success in battle, but these 4v4 games were almost an entirely different ballgame, or perhaps it was just her getting rusty. Though, these thoughts only fueled her ambitions to get better and try to find new answers to situations in battle, and so the energized newbie Octoling spent the rest of her day doing turf wars until evening, slowly theory crafting new techniques in her head.

Once she finally felt like she was drained of energy, Hachi decided it was time to call it a day. The streak of games did give her a crash course in some basic skills ranging from her understanding of her Splatana all the way to more abstract ideas like positioning, but even as tired as she was, Hachi simply couldn't just call it a day just yet. She wanted to get a few things now that she had the cash to spend, many stores were still open at this time, though she will be careful in how many items she purchases. To start off: A set of new clothes, to celebrate her new few steps in life.

—

It was rather odd for Hachi to look into the mirror and to be greeted with an Octoling in Inkopolis style wear.

 The first piece of clothing that the Octoling wore was a simple Firedfin brand black Fishfry bandanna donned across the Octoling's head, which held a detailed look on it. 

It was followed with the second piece of clothing: a Annaki Drive t-shirt, a long sleeved white t-shirt with slits to show off the shoulders with a rather cool and exciting yet low-key design on the front, with a long plaid patterned tail. It was a perfect amalgamation of style and casual to the Octo in the mirror. 

Third piece of clothing was simple black leggings with a singular light green stripe running down the leg. She debated in her mind if she should wear it with the black skirt, but in the end decided against it when the jellyfish who ran the place advised against it suggesting it just wouldn't feel "right," at least that's what Hachi got from what little she understood of his speech pattern. She simply assumed as a clothes store owner, he probably knew best.

Finally, resting upon her feet were 2 maroon leather Rockenberg Punk Cherrie boots. Hachi at this moment also realized how long she went without wearing shoes that didn't feature high-heels. It took a second for her to get used to the feeling of having her feet flat on the ground but once she was used to it, it felt she was even more mobile than before, though granted she never had a mobility issue with the high-heels anyway, seeing how she fought her way out of the metro in them the whole way through.

This was the fit, it wasn't anything super flashy, it spoke to Hachi, it felt as if it was just perfect, though she had a much bigger shopping list, but Hachi did want to keep her wardrobe to make moving out easier. She changed back into her old clothes and brought the selection up to the register, but before the cashier finished scanning all the items, she quickly spotted a dark blue duffel bag with an interesting gold-colored design on it, resembling leaves of a tree branch. It was hanging on a rack near the register before Hachi quickly snatched it up and added it to her checkout. It was the perfect size for her newly bought clothes and for holding her splatana. Plus, it might make things easier for when she moves out. 

It was now approaching 19:00, but Hachi had one more stop she wanted to quickly drop by before returning back to base: the CD store. She simply had 2 goals in mind: buy a set of headphones or earbuds so she can listen to music without distractions and to find the name of the song with that heavenly melody that captured her heart all those months ago. She didn't plan to stick around long though, she did want to eat at an interesting restaurant she spotted on the way back which advertised some sort of sandwich with a big slice of meat in the middle, advertising it as a "hamburger."

Arriving at the store, Hachi walked in, passing by the register where an inkling was looking at their phone, curious to see what else society has for her on the music menu. She walked over to the CD player with headphones to listen to samples of music and started picking and listening. Ho, a playlist of the current turf war battle music? Might as well find the name of that snazzy song she heard in her first turf battle. 

After a bit of searching, she found the song: Riptide Rupture by Ink Theory. She heard it a few times already but only now was she able to take it in without the noise of battle interrupting parts of it. While we're at it, might as well listen to their other songs and- 

Wait, what was the name the band Marina and Pearl were in? Hachi absolutely needs to add some of their songs to her list. Hold it, she's getting carried away, she should just find the one with the heavenly melody and come back later. What would their genre even be? What does each genre even sound like? Rock? Guess you gotta start somewhere, she'll just listen to a few songs and see if she-

—

"Shops closing up kid, time to wrap it up," the inkling shopkeeper with a small chin goatee shouted from the register.

Haw?

These words simply didn't make sense to the ears of the half hypnotized Hachi. It hasn't been that long, she simply stopped by the rock section to try and find that heavenly song's name, maybe type some songs into a list on her phone that she liked while on her search and-

Oh, it's now 21:00.

Oh, she definitely did not find the song she was looking for.

Oh, that is over 300 songs listed on her phone.

"Listen, I love John Doriroquai's Virtueel Insanity as much as the next squid, but I'm gonna have to stop you right there." The shopkeeper spoke in a chill tone, but the look on their face indicated that he wanted to close up shop now.

Hachi was extremely embarrassed, it dawned on her that it would've been much easier if she asked the owner of the store. She started to fully realize her situation, to walk into a CD store and just listen to music for several hours straight without buying anything. It didn't help that she had the dreaded feeling she was the only other person in the store for the last few hours.

The somewhat terrified Octoling tried to remember what happened in the last few hours. Hachi in fact didn't just check out the rock section, partway through her quest, she completely got sidetracked by the other genres. Rock led to pop, leading to something called "Video Game music," segwaying into jazz, and then hip-hop, then- well, you get the picture. 

She quickly grabbed her bag and hastily picked up a Forge brand Squidfin Hook Can headphones off a nearby rack next to the checkout area and walked over to the register, somewhat trying to avoid eye contact and to make sure she wasn't too red in the face.

As she put the headphones on the counter and looked away in embarrassment, the inkling simply sighed and started ringing the headphones up. Once the purchase went through, Hachi stuffed the headphones in her bag and briskly made her way toward the door, eager to get over this event as soon as possible. 

Right before she fully stepped into the night, the shop-keep asked one more thing:

"Hey, can I ask, are you an-"

Hachi froze in the door frame without looking back, despite it being night, her pupils were as small as they could possibly be. This was the last thing she wanted to reveal about herself after what she did. Any more attention brought to her might cause her to make a run for it, even if it was just one person. Luckily for her it seems the shop-keep could sense that she was a bit on edge.

"Uh, never mind."

As soon as that last sentence was spoken, she walked as fast as she could away from the music store front in the general direction of her apartment. No amount of military training could've calmed her nerves in this situation. 

Sadly though, at this time, most restaurants were now closed, so all she could do for dinner was stop by the convenience store located right outside the building she temporarily resides in and buy some small things. There was quite a selection, but at this point she just wanted to pick a few things and be done with it. Lets see, instant ramen noodles in a styrofoam cup and a can of some red and white brand drink called "cola," specifically a cherry flavor. Hachi only chose this drink to try because of a lyric in of the songs she listened to in the pop section during her music raid, specifically one by Savage Grunion.

As the jelly cashier rang up her cart, the dark outside started drizzling. It quickly turned to pouring only seconds later. Normally, a person might be annoyed, worried about their stuff getting wet, maybe even distraught over the clothes they hung outside to dry, but Hachi didn't mind, infact, she welcomed it. 

Once Hachi filled her cup of ramen with hot water, she drifted outside into the cold rainy night and took a spot that was just out of the rain outside of the store's entrance and crouched down onto her heels, keeping her knees together. It felt like it was freezing cold, the styrofoam cup filled with boiling water was the only thing that was warm, but this didn't dissuade the pacific Octoling. 

She simply sat there taking in the nighttime cityscape being drenched in water. Hachi observed an inkling pair running away while shouting "Ahhhh!" while holding their hands up. An ad with a song played somewhere from a nearby electronic billboard, incomprehensibly and echoing along with the hissing of water splashing against the concrete. Somehow, through the rain, Hachi swore she heard the heavenly melody buried within the rain and distant audio, coming through as if the elements themselves were also captured by the melody. Was it real or was it simply her mind acting up? Quickly though, the thought washed away into the rushing water.

Only now it hit Hachi that it was the first time in a long while where she had a moment completely to herself. Nothingness. It was one thing the zen Octoling would ever think should ever be grateful for. Devoid of any thoughts or emotion, just her and the world. She stared into the darkness only somewhat brightened by glowing signs resting atop the building walls as the sky sobbed noisily throughout the city. 

Chapter Text

♬ "The words will make you out 'n' out.

I spent the day your way!

Call it morning driving through the sound of

In and out the valley." ♬

A nostalgia-feeling rock song played at a medium-low volume through the Hero Headset that rested upon the stoic Agent's ears as she walked along the street towards Agent 8's temporary apartment. As the inkling walked, she tried thinking of several ways on how to start their conversation with Agent 8. Agent 3, never really was the social one, she would always try and avoid talking whenever she could, especially those who she doesn't know very much.

Last time she was in contact with Agent 8, she was on board the same helicopter after her spectacular "finale" against Commander Tartar. Even then they didn't talk but luckily not due to any bad blood, it's just that in that moment she couldn't think of anything to say to the weary yet gleeful Octoling. How do you talk to someone who you tried to kill 2 times out of the 4 run-ins you've had with them?

Agent 3 also simply had a strong feeling to check in on the newly freed Agent 8 and so she needed any help. It's the least she could do after not being able to aid her in her last battle. Though she imagines Agent 3 was probably the last person she wanted help from.

In any case, she plans to give Agent 8 her phone number so she wouldn't need to travel to her place every time she needs to be informed of something important. It also allowed the Agent to express her thoughts more easily if she needed to, and to keep distance while still keeping in contact if 8 still held any understandable disdain at Agent 3.

Semi-deep in thought, barely noticed the rain starting to fall. The brooding inkling simply didn't care and continued to walk without worry as the rain started to slowly pick up. Agent 3 could already see the apartment entrance ahead, still worrying about if her sudden appearance might cause some more discomfort for Agent 8. 

As she pulled up to the apartment entrance, Agent 3 walked up to the apartment intercom system and rang the doorbell to Agent 8's apartment. As she waited for a response, she planted her forearm against the wall in front of her and leaned forward while looking down, still worrying about what might go down.

What she saw was a puddle manifesting the reflection of a long yellow haired pale Inkling with scars near the ends, accompanied with somewhat tired stoic orange eyes. Today she picked a light lime green color for her hair color along with the orange color for her eyes.

 There was a faint mark around her right eye where the sanitization once occupied, the medics did say it would go away over time despite its appearances. Her ears are covered by the Hero Headset (replica, as the actual gear was very expensive) given to her by the Splatoon, adorned with many colorful lights, just for the freshness she supposes. 

Ah, that's right, technically Agent 3 is no longer "Agent 3," but now just "Captain,” well, that is, if she actually accepts the role. She didn’t want to be the captain of the Splatoon, something about it just feels off to her. Cuttlefish already gave her his cap, the “Cap of Legend,” and announced his retirement ( Guess his age really showed in the Metro ). Now it's just up to her to embrace it. Though, she did wish she brought it with her as the rain was making it somewhat annoying falling onto her bare head, but in a way it also felt oddly refreshing.

A gust of wind somehow makes its way to Agent 3’s ears through the music, part of Agent 3 thought for a second it was part of the song she was listening too.

Interestingly enough, despite her headgear being somewhat flashy, her body gear on the other hand looked like the opposite. The first thing she saw in the reflection was a stitched together poncho-like garb using 3 starkly different pieces of cloth, washed out yellow, slightly more solid navy blue, and an orange patterned cloth. If you didn't know any better it could be mistaken as poor cosplayer's knight waffenrock.

Funnily enough, this poncho was also a hand-me-down from Cuttlefish after he picked off all his medals. In fact, Agent 3 forgot if she remembered to wash it since she got it. She was really hoping she did, because she really wanted Marie to shut up about her hygiene, a subject that was ever since brought up after Agent 3 mentioned how she forgot to change clothes ONE TIME.

Somewhat hidden under the poncho was her familiar Hero Jacket (replica), which was still very noticeable from certain angles as it did have a reflective vest essentially sewn into it. The main part of the jacket was basically a black windbreaker with the collar buttoned up. 

Finally, she wore classic shorts with a yellow-greenish line running down the left leg and on the ends of her legs were the Hero Runner shoes (replica). 

Besides the light mark on her face, it's not exactly the look of a battle hardened and skillful “captain,” but care she did not. The clothes were wearable, so she wore them, though admittedly she did put on the poncho to try and subdue her combat ready look. As Agent 3 finished up at her self-analyzing, the music's comprehension crept into her head once again 

♬ "I will remember you,

your silhouette will charge the view

of a distant atmosphere!" ♬

After about 20 seconds of waiting bearing no response, Agent 3 turned around toward the street to look at her surroundings. It was now pouring upon the street. She briefly thought of going to see if Agent 8 was still walking around in the city, perhaps she was lost and needed someone to walk her home and- 

Before she finished her thought, her attention was quickly brought to the only brightly lit area in the night, a convenience store located on a corner right across the street. A lone inkfish sat there, seemingly staring into nothingness while holding a cup. Right away Agent 3 recognized that it was Agent 8's silhouette, as she could easily see her iconic high-heels and distinctive hair.

A small amount of air exhaled out the Inkling's nose. This was it, the moment she was dreading, yet still knew she must carry it out. For a few moments she simply stared at the silhouette, still hesitating, with her neutral face becoming ever so slightly sadder, but soon after pulled herself together. After checking left and right, Agent 3 dashed across the street and through the rain toward the Octoling. As she approached closer, Agent 8 looked over and noticed the familiar Agent 3, one of the countless people it would be impossible for her to forget.

After a brief moment of surprise in her eyes, Agent 8 bared a tiny smile and did a little wave with her right hand. Once Agent 3 got close enough to be standing over her, she froze up again. 

A smile? There were many reactions the agent expected, a look of disgust, the silent treatment, maybe even a rude gesture if she learned one in her time in the city, but a smile was the one that simply didn’t show up on her radar. It caught her off guard, something that was especially hard to do with her. Ever so slightly, her face had a ting more red in them, which was imperceptible in this dark lighting.

The agent simply could not think. She's faced off many more dangerous things and can usually remain calmer than most. If needed, she could have a conversation with the rest of the Splatoon if she so wanted to, so why is her mouth more frozen than a grocery fish market stall? 

After a second of staring at a somewhat confused Agent 8, the Inkling finally seceded and Agent 3 simply moved next to the Octoling and crouched down facing toward the street. The Captain then pointed to Agent 8's pocket where a phone sat inside and motioned to hand it over for a second. With a more curious expression now, Agent 8 handed over her phone (that didn't have any security measures) where Captain put her number in her contacts. Then, handing back Agent 8's phone, she pulled her phone out and started typing a message.

Said message was a chunk of text which plainly stated about how there was a change in plans, there was gonna be a delay in getting all the preparations ready for Agent 8 to move into the apartment, so her next living place will be with another recently recruited Agent of the Splatoon, one "Agent 4." Agent 3 hasn't actually met Agent 4 yet, but her text seemed very chill, yet also contained a hint of excitement when accepting a temporary Octoling roommate.

Agent 8 wasn't told the other reason Agent 3 was changing plans for a bit: she was afraid that the recent memories of her might cause some feelings of “on edge” if she were to move in with Agent 3. Usually she didn’t really care what people thought, but in her mind it felt like it was probably the right choice seeing how many times they fought to the death before.

Though, even now Agent 3 was aware that she might be somewhat cod-dling a very capable battle-hardened warrior, but she much rather played it safe than pushing her into the deep end. Still, her consciousness was still slightly nagging at her wondering why she should be extra careful when Agent 8 was also the one who beat her in the last duel.

She hit send then crossed her arms onto her knees and rested her chin behind them as she stared into the night as Agent 8 read the message. As she waited for Agent 8 to finish reading and once again tuned into her ears.

♬ "Along the drifting cloud the eagle searching down on the land.

Catching the swirling wind the sailor sees the rim of the land.

The eagle's dancing wings create as the weather spins out of hand." ♬

Agent 3 hit the "skip" button on the back of her headset, not appreciating the extra tension this verse seemed to add to her brain. After a second, it started playing a song, but she wouldn’t have time to hear what song it was about to play, as the silence was all that it took to leave Agent 3 alone with her memories she stared into the bleak abyss of the night rain.

—

Cuttlefish . 

Funny how the world works. When Agent 3 accepted the task to accompany him to Mt. Nantai a few weeks ago, it would mark the 2nd time where she followed him into an unknown land causing it to change the course of Agent 3’s life forever. It was also how she first met Agent 8 and the first time engaged in a battle against her. 

It was a simple mission, go with him to investigate the mountain after hearing rumors of an Octarian squad roaming around there. Agent 3 didn’t really know why as she wasn’t an expert in anything that wasn’t a direct flight, but right away it felt weird how there was just a squad roaming around there, does Octavio even have the resources to maintain a position there at all? 

Anyway, it felt like barely any time passed before they got into a fight with the Octarian squad, but they were not what was important there. The single part of memory that mattered was what happened right before they were all taken away to the deep sea metro. 

Agent 3 successfully fended off the squad, so efficiently that she essentially remembered nothing about the encounter. Suddenly she was alerted to a shout from Cuttlefish, who was hiding a distance away from the fight. Quickly, she dashed to his location and burst through the brush, positioned right behind Cuttlefish’s attacker, who’s hand was reached out to her. Agent 3 was not about to hesitate in pulling the trigger at all, Cuttlefish was essentially family to her, and she would not spare a second thought for her enemy, as she has done countless times before.

Before she could pull the trigger perfectly positioned for a swift splat, Cuttlefish’s “attacker” turned to look at her. In a millisecond she saw the Octoling’s face, the Octoling that would soon be known as Agent 8. She wasn’t carrying a weapon, nor even a look of desperation nor fear on her face. All that met her eyes was a forlorn expression, one that was void of all conflict. It also occurred to Agent 3 that in that moment, the Octoling was fully capable of reacting to her attack, she already identified the direction of the attack and faced it in a split second, yet in that moment she decided to do nothing at all.

Luckily (or maybe unluckily) for all of them, another assailant, presumably one of Tartar’s lackeys, intervened and knocked out every single one of them before any trigger was pulled, leaving Agent 3 alone with her thoughts. 

She was barely conscious, but a wave of sadness and shame washed over her body like freezing ocean water. 

Stop. 

Agent 3 quickly boarded up these thoughts and slowly started to refocus on the rain. Agent 3 doesn’t need to think any deeper of these memories, they are in the past now, they can’t affect the present. Oh, but what was that feeling of sadness and shame coming from? It was something she never felt before in her life.

Nope.

It doesn’t matter. There is no reason to bring up these terrible thoughts.  There is nothing in there. It's all ink under the tower now. Yet, despite all this self convincing, the feeling of discomfort and sorrow still lingered, no matter how hard she blocked off these feelings, they cut through her head, especially so when looking at Agent 8. Actually, with the friendliness she displayed, it somewhat softened a little, but still it was a mystery. 

—

“Three?”

Suddenly, Agent 8 waddled into her field of vision, still in her crouching position, somewhat startling Agent 3. Her face was only illuminated by the convenience store light that was right behind Agent 3 and was very close to the Inkling's. Judging from her eyes, she was analyzing the faint mark left over from the sanitation, but her face was also wondering about the drifting stare emanating from the Captain, as if it was looking into the darkness itself.

Agent 3 quickly regained her composure as much as she could, but couldn’t hide the blush that showed up on her face.

“Oh, sorry, sorry! I was just worried because you did not seem to hear me...” A flustered Agent 8 stammered, now also growing slightly red in the face.

“Didn’t seem to hear” ? Agent 3 didn’t hear anything. She always thought she was fairly attentive to her surroundings, but there was nothing that could’ve caused any miscommunication, even the music playing in her ear was a calming with vocal-less with steel drums softly playing in the background. 

After a moment of hesitation, Agent 3 finally mumbled her first words to Agent 8, unable to escape conversation:

“It's um, nothing.” eager to shift the topic away from herself. Once again, Agent 3’s eyes darted to the floor a bit and moved to look at Agent 8’s eyes, forgetting to follow up with a topic changer. 

“Are you sure? You are not cold?”

Agent 3 slowly shook her head and started looking down at the floor, somewhat at a loss of words. A moment of silence passed, Agent 8 worried if she got a bit too close with her curiosity, while Agent 3 shyly kept her eyes to the floor from slight embarrassment. Once again, Agent 8 attempted to start a  conversation, finding energy within herself to try and comfort Agent 3, knowing that something was making her somewhat sad.

“Do you want me to move a bit farther from you?” she dejectedly offered to the somewhat closed off Agent.

Something sparked through the Agent for a moment, a brief one, but one that cut through her closed off nature.

“No.” She mumbled again with a slight more volume, almost immediately after Agent 8 asked, in fact it was a bit too fast for Agent 3’s taste, as she turned even slightly more red on her cheeks that hid behind her arm barricade.

A wave of relief washed over Hachi, glad to know that she wasn’t the source of whatever discomfort. It was clear at this point to Hachi that Agent 3 didn’t want to talk, but for sure as shell wanted the company. Maybe at a later time she could get her to open up, but for now this was their first real meet up since their duels to the death, and Hachi wanted to show that there was no ill will to her or anything and that she could be trusted. In her mind she tried to think of ways to silently comfort Agent 3 and there were only 2 things that came to mind.

First, Hachi moved her unopened cherry cola can and her untouched, slightly soggy, cup of ramen next to Agent 3, which she briefly glanced at before moving her eyes back to the ground in front of her. Then, Hachi moved closer next to Agent 3 and wrapped her arms around her (with a slight jump from Agent 3), tilting her head to lean against her shoulder, looking into the street once again.

Hachi always heard of hugging from songs she heard of and knew it to be a sign of comfort, and has never seen it done before in the Octarian society, arguably the place that needed it the most. 

“We are friends now.” Hachi reaffirmed softly, once again casting her gaze onto the scenery. Agent 3 emitted a light quiver, which Hachi didn’t notice. Agent 3 slowly moved one of her arms and grabbed Hachi’s arm, but did not move it again. For a while they both sat there, sharing an embrace, as the cold rain fell upon the now mostly empty streets which were barely lit by blue neon signs, almost as if they were filling in for the absent moon.

Past her emotionless front, Agent 3 felt something that she has never felt before, a truly joyful feeling. It was both familiar and foreign, she felt happiness before, something almost long forgotten, before she even joined Cuttlefish. As the two basked in each other's embrace, hidden behind Agent 3’s arms, a small smile formed on her face, something she didn’t know she had longed to do for a while.

Chapter Text

As the 2 inkfish huddled around each other, enjoying their moment, drama approached slowly, in the form of footsteps. At first it was simply white noise in the background to both inkfish.

*splat*

It could barely be heard through the rain. If someone was talking they wouldn't have noticed.

*splat*

The steps were ever so slower than a walk, as if the person making them was in slow motion. It was odd enough that it caused 3 to hide her smile once again and look towards its source.

*splat*

A figure donning a very torn brown hooded cloak emerged from the right side of the road behind the blind-spot caused by the next door building. Immediately, it caught the Agent's attention.

The cloak went down slightly past the waist with a tail that went down halfway across the shins. It hid everything slightly above the knees, not only that but the arms were only visible past the elbows. Along with the cloak, a hood that easily hid every facial feature in a shroud of darkness, excluding their mouth and chin, which were light skinned.

The only thing Agent 3 could see was that they were wearing something underneath with dark long sleeves with long dress-looking pants with dark shoes. It was a decently fair assumption to guess they were an Inkling, but then again it might be another similarly figured species.

Right away, Agent 3 could tell something was wrong, this smelled fisher more than a salmonid. She shot a suspicious look at what she assumed was the person’s eyes and even though there were no eyes in view, she felt it staring back. Oddly, she got a sense of disgust from whoever it was.

A part of her brain advised her that this isn't someone wearing it for the sake of keeping the rain out, no, this was to hide their identity. For a moment, no one spoke, but Agent 3 was able to hear a slight breathing from the hooded entity, even with the surrounding audio. Then, Hachi seemed to notice the stranger stopped and was facing them.

“Do you need help?” Hachi perked up, seemingly unaware of the tension between the two. 

A few seconds passed, still with no response, as Agent 3 and the hooded one were locked in a staring battle. Still, Hachi didn’t seem to notice, as she moved her arm away from Agent 3, who slightly furrowed her brows. Hachi then grabbed the still untouched, definitely lukewarm, soggy cup of noodles and offered it to the cloaked being. 

“Are you hungry?” Hachi offered, in a slightly more curious but still cheery tone. Perhaps they were just really shy?

Then the faceless figure slightly turned it head away from Agent 3's eyes and “toward” Hachi, utter one sentence in a slow but also sickly tone, as if they were didn’t have full power to their breathing:

"I'm taking this back."

In the split moment the cloaked figure unleashed a swift kick to the noodles, right into both of the inkfish’s faces, causing both to be blinded from the salty sally. As they were recovering from this briny bushwhack, their mugger grabbed the handle of the Splatana that was facing toward the street from Hachi's bag. Within one swift motion, they drew the sword without any resistance and took off into the night on foot.

Agent 3 always tried to hide any strong feelings, but at this moment was pissed at the B.M that just occurred, she was even more mad at the fact that it happened to Hachi, who innocently offered food to the stranger. The moment she got her eyes open, she sprinted off toward their mugger, quickly pressing a button behind her headset to turn off music and go into standard hearing mode. Hachi was more puzzled if anything, but also quickly grabbed her bag and ran off to tail Agent 3.

27 meters away. The Agent’s mental computer estimated, she was faster than her target, but even then it was clear they were faster than the average Inkling. Both were unhindered by their surroundings as both were able to almost perfectly maneuver around any objects, vaulting over cars and barely glancing at any unaware bystanders, going so far to sometimes briefly bouncing off rails or parked vehicles as they turned corners. Whoever the thief was, their skills were impressive , but still not a match for the experience (and anger) that Agent 3 wielded. Perhaps they are a competitive athlete? 

Unless… A quiet voice theorized in her head.

About 12 meters behind the agent, Hachi made her way behind the Inkling, lugging behind her bag, skillfully keeping a chase in her high-heels. To her, all she could see in the dark were 2 long caped figures running through the rainy streets like ghosts of the pasts coming back to haunt the present.

10 meters. The agent whispered in her head, as she dedicated the rest of her brain to slipping past any distractions, putting everything into one mind and perfectly zipping by anything. The bandit got a quick look at their pursuer by a passing car mirror and what stared back at them was a brief flash of Agent’s face in a car’s headlights, a face that was trying hard to stay neutral as their eyes gave a clear window into her emotions, containing only determination and wrath.

Finally, a change of scenery occurred, as the lurcher lurched into an alleyway, desperate to get away from their inevitable victor. In the brief moment that Agent 3 was unable to see them, the foe initiated a super jump to a random spot in the city, realizing they were not going to outrun their chaser. Before they saw the agent emerge around the corner, they were already soaring above the city, looking down at the street and smugly smirking to themselves in their swim form.

Unfortunately for them however, their celebration would be short lived as their eyes spotted a squid appearing right next to them mid air. 

There was no time for the crook to even change their expression before Agent 3 shifted back to her Inkling form and performed a forward spinning ax kick, striking with an almost metal bending direct hit with her right heel, spiking the thief onto the roof of a building and tumbling hard back into their Inkling(?) form along with the Agent’s right sandal. Miraculously, they managed to somewhat break their fall and rolled to catch themselves into an unbalanced kneel with Splatana in their right hand.

Not soon after, Agent 3 landed perfectly onto the same roof in a much more balanced kneeling position, opposite of the fallen one. Without breaking her view of the weakened opponent, she quietly stood up and slipped her right foot back into the sandal laying on the floor. For a moment, both stared down at each other as the rain continued to fall, the only thing illuminating the roof being a large electronic billboard sign casting a white light upon the “arena.” The antagonist took a second to breathe before half-shouting something at the agent in a medium pitched voice with a very light rasp:

“Stay out of this, nanbu no akuma! This isn’t any of your business! ”

As the excitement started to die down, the Agent's ears were able to properly process the audio coming through the rain fall around her. The voice was noticeably masculine and was trying to retain the air of calmness and arrogance, which was betrayed by their struggling tone. It also seemed a bit stuffy.

The 3’s eyes widened a very unnoticeable mount in minimal surprise. Of course it's an Octoling, someone with military conditioning would be able to put up such a chase. She was somewhat annoyed at how he (presumably) completely forgot the part where the kicked noodles were also caught in her eyes and considered what her next move was. Maybe twist his arm in a position it shouldn’t be in?

Before she could act on those thoughts, she heard another super jump, this time from Hachi. She landed right next to Agent 3 and was slightly unbalanced from the bag, making Agent 3 lightly catch her to keep her from tripping over. As she got a look at her surroundings, Agent 3 leaned in and whispered into her ear:

“He might be an Octoling soldier, said something in Octonese.”

As Agent 3 returned to her previous pose, keeping her face toward Hachi, giving him the side eye. Hachi stood there for a moment with slightly wider eyes in surprise. She didn’t realize other Octolings would be here in Inkopolis, was this the same one Sheldon mentioned selling him the Splatana? As the silence grew the mysterious Octoling slowly grew more and more tense. To test the waters, Hachi inquired something in a soft tone in Octonese:

“Dorobō-san, sono waipā wa anata no monodesu ka? Kazoku no buki?” 

(Mr. Thief, is that Wiper yours? Family weapon?)

No response came amidst the rain fall. The electronic billboard continued mindlessly playing an ad in the background. To make sure, she switched back to Inklish for her 2nd and last question:

“Mister, if it's not your Splatana, maybe I please have it back?” 

Pitter-patter , the rain responded and nothing else.

His lack of answer only caused her interest to grow, was he merely a Inkling who knew Octonese as a way to look intimidating? Maybe he is deaf? Perhaps Agent 3 misheard? 

No, she’s pretty experienced, she would definitely tell if it's Octonese. Soon, the “Octoling,” would do another action that would raise the curious Hachi’s interest further.

The longer the 2 agents stayed, it seemed to spur the adversary into getting ready for a final fight. He took a wide stance with his right leg closest to the 2 inkfish, slightly leaning back on his left. While steadying his breathing, he also brought the Splatana up horizontally to the left side of his face, with the edge of the “blade” pointing upward, and holding the Splatana by the top of its handle with his right arm and positioning his left palm at the bottom of the grip.

As if it was setting the stage, the billboard started to show something that gave the rooftop a blue aura. The agent did not care in the slightest, only crossing her arms in response. Hachi however, REALLY wants to find out if this guy was legit, if this guy really is an Octoling here in Inkopolis, then she wants to know if there are others. She also wanted to see if they are trained in a Splatana martial art, maybe she would learn a thing or too. 

Hachi once again scanned her surroundings, this time focusing on the roof itself. Luckily it had some half walls at the edges for safety and was decently wide with minimal obstacles in the way, aside from a few vents. Behind Agent 3 in the corner, there was a slender wooden pole, around 60 cm. She then turned to Agent 3 and gently passed her bag into her hands.

“Please hold this,” Hachi requested.

As Agent 3 put the duffle bag to her side, Hachi walked to the wooden stick in the corner and picked it up, tapping it against the roof’s half wall, it seemed sturdy enough. Then she turned to walk back to her starting position, looking at her opponent now. The agent understood what was happening and reluctantly moved to spectate at the corner where the stick one layed, wondering why she was humoring the nuisance instead of just getting her Splatana back.

As Hachi returned to her position with pole in hand, the “Octoling” finally spoke:

“Ha! You’re wasting my time...” He laughed, as if the mere idea was a hilarious dream.

There seemed to be no accent in his speech, not like Hachi, in fact it was pretty articulate. Even with the less-than-ideal lighting, Hachi could see the mouth of her foe sneering at the idea of her even thinking of dueling with that piece of wooden trash. Once he saw Hachi wasn’t backing down, his mouth receded back into a more fierce and focused look.

Quickly in her head, Hachi pondered one thing pertaining to the Splatana’s damage capabilities. Assuming he didn’t have a secret ink tank somewhere, the Splatana will only be loaded with rain water. 

Unfortunately for her, she has no idea if rain water was as damaging to inkfish as ink was, only that they would sink and drown in water. Not only that, but she didn’t know what exactly would happen if she were to be splatted without a turf war respawn point. Would it be death or would she still be sent to the previous spawn point? Either way, her plan is the same, treat the Splatana as if it was fully inked, but luckily because it isn’t connected to a tank, there would be no projectiles, assuming he knows how to use the weapon in such a way.

To try and show she was in good faith, Hachi bowed a dramatic bow, as if she was an actor at the end of a stage play, giving a small twinkle in her eye, eager to see what he has to show. Unfortunately for her, it seemed to have gotten misinterpreted as a taunt, as the moment she lifted her head she heard the Octoling shout with a chuckle at the start:

“Tha-nk you for that, I shall give you death in return! HRAH !!!”

Then he suddenly charged forward, still holding the same upper body stance. With perfect timing once again, the billboard changed its display to put on a music video playing a rather graceful and empowering song, it was like the universe was their DJ.

♬ “Tomorrow is mine.” ♬

First attack was already in motion, Hachi quickly stepped back 2 times to avoid a horizontal slash going left to right.

♬ “You awoke me,

Unleashed the fire in my heart.” ♬

Immediately afterward he attempted to swing vertically downward, which she promptly put off course by hitting it with the wooden pole by swinging it to her left, while also slightly shifting her body to the right as well. The adrenaline was already starting to tune out the background noise.

*tOCK* 

Chaining together his attacks, the swordsfish turns his spongy blade upward and swings upward, which Hachi deflected away more to her right, while still making distance by going left.

*tACK*

One more time, the Splatana turned around above Hachi, this time planning to fall from her top right to the bottom left. Before it could start its movement, Hachi struck against it head on with the pole, but it seemed her opponent foresaw this and morphed it into another straight down attack, only giving her enough time to get out of the way by quick stepping to her right. 

Now the weary mysterious swordsfish was fully exposed to a whiff punish as his weapon was down and his left back side was exposed to her.

♬ “ Your mistake was to 

Underestimate my power!” ♬

Hachi could tell that despite how tired and sloppy his swings are, there was loosely a form he was attempting to maintain, just barely noticeable, but it wasn’t a form she could remember in the few times she saw a practice Splatana being demonstrated at her boot camp. This wasn’t some goon swinging an object around out of desperation (well, it was out of desperation), it was more like a chef getting re-familiarized with their custom weighted, razor sharp professional knife after using a standard dull cheap one for so long.

Instead of wacking the exposed sod with her pole (something Agent 3 was hoping would happen), she decided it would be merciful and just slapped him on the back of the head with her hand before dashing back to make distance, with a little tiny grin on her face- 

“hhRA!!”
-barely dodging a lashed out attack in retaliation. 

After a pause to catch his breath, he charged once again. This time his attacks were so slow and telegraphed from anger that she dodged and parried them like they were boot camp training partners. Soon,(*clACK*) they were at a perfect point at odds where they were going parallel (*whISH*) along the half wall as Hachi was dodging more and more playfully, barely stifling a grin at how much fun she was having. A little spin to the side, a butterfly kick there, the occasional duck and weave. 

♬ “I will ignite!

Dancin' through the fire around me

I'll never stop. ♬

The enjoyment wasn’t at all from ego bruising, in fact she was hoping her opponent didn’t take it personally. Hachi was relishing at the flashy and impractical moves she was able to do in quick succession intandem with her opponent, almost like a choreographed dance. She never thought hearing the whoosh of a nearly missed attack would be so fun. In contrast, her attacker wasn’t having it. 

Once he started to regain his composure, the attacks once again started becoming harder to avoid, eventually leading to Hachi making a tactical retreat by jumping off the wall to her back (with a flip for extra freshness) away from the stabilized fighter. He struck the wall as he missed the now absent target, quickly making a perturbed noise. For a moment, he quickly checked the Splatana to make sure nothing was damaged. Once he was sure nothing in particular was damaged, he turned back to face Hachi, who was holding a kabuki stance for even extra style points. It was also to see if the theorized Octoling would notice the reference to traditional Octonese culture.

It seemed to be in vain though, as he ignored it and proceeded to smirk and start recognizing Hachi’s competency.

“Not bad! But don’t get cocky…”

Slightly embarrassed from the lack of reaction, Hachi went back to her normal pose.. Now it was time for the swordsfish to make his grand reveal: He reached across his body with his arm and grabbed the worn cloak by the shoulder, then threw it up into the air behind him, causing it to fall off the building into the space behind him.

Well one thing was for certain, he was for sure an Octoling. His hair was stylized almost like the slicked back Inkling hair style, but instead of 3 thick rounded tentacles, it was made up of a bunch of thinner tentacles slicked back, yet still somewhat floating above from the scalp. Interestingly, there was a deliberate choice to make the white-grayish side of the tentacles face outward instead of the colored side.

His clothes were especially unique, the long black coat he was wearing underneath looked only slightly less tattered than the cloak he just threw off. It even gave Hachi a bit of nostalgia as it seemed to be in the so-called “delinquent” style Hachi saw in her childhood mangas, it even had a left over gold insignia on the collar. 

Within the chest area, seemed to be the only piece of clothing that was somewhat new. It seemed to be a suit vest of some sort and was a dark shade of blue. There seemed to be some black embroidering on it too, but it was too dark to see in detail. Suddenly, Hachi remembered seeing school students walking by in an outfit containing such a vest, but none were as dark and detailed as this, perhaps personal modifications? Also, who was the poor student who got their wardrobe raided by this samurai to put together this fit?

His black pants were also long and also seemed to be once part of a suit as well. Honestly, it was too dark to see if they were also scavenged or “modified.” At the bottom of the legs sat the black shoes. Perhaps it was her sharp sense of fashion but Hachi was immediately able to tell it was of Rockenberg origin, but she couldn’t tell the specific type, but she could tell from the slight reflective quality of them.

Finally, his face was pale. Slightly paler than 3’s and it didn’t seem to be from the cold environment they were in. His eyes were gray like clouds that formed a storm and their look of focused stoicness really reminded her of Agent 3. Much like other inkfish, it was hard to tell what age he was based off of appearance, but her guess was at least around 16 just like Hachi and Agent 3.

“How strange, I see you’re not some turf war Yowamushi ,” smoothly twirling his Splatana into his other hand. For once he was conversing with Hachi instead of barking lines, “Even the best competitive players have trouble keeping up with me.” 

Even when talking normally, he was dramatic, though Hachi admits it was pretty entertaining fighting essentially a manga villain. Hachi saw her chance to find out a bit more about this odd character, but couldn’t think of what question she should lead with. What’s his name? Is the Splatana rightfully his?? Does he know that tailors exist in Inkopolis??? 

“In any case, do you really think you stand a chance? Now I’m more motivated to put you down and to show that your wretched hands aren't worthy of this honorable weapon.” 

He sure loved making threats to Hachi’s life, but she wasn’t sensing any real malice from him, it just seemed to be what they call in Inklish “banter.” Hachi took a look at her empty hand and made grabbing motions with it. My hands are not “wretched,” she thought, not knowing what that word meant. Wait, darn! Forgetting to ask him a question, it was too late now, he was already back to monologuing, and Hachi wasn’t rude enough to interrupt someone when they were talking. 

With the slight break in between the fighting, she noticed the electronic billboard changed its display somewhere during the fight. Now casting a blue dim light upon the stage and playing an electronic metal music video on its screen, with the song now building up for its drop. 

♬ “And it will never rest until the clouds are clear!

Until it finds my dreams have disappeared! ♬

Just from a few seconds of listening to the song, Hachi knew she needed to add it to her playlist, but then the stuck-up voice of the swordsfish cut through the music and brought her attention back to him. 

“This is bout is getting on my nerves as it is, now you shall meet your end. Remember this face as it will become the icon of your defeat.” His face shifted into more focus. For a moment, Agent 3 swore she saw a faint blue flash in his eyes, similar to when Hachi fought Tartar, but surely it was just the trick of the billboard’s light.

Then he did something odd, the swordsfish then “sheathed” his sword into his left hand near his hip, as if it was holding a scabbard which was invisible to everyone else. His left hand was placed at the lowest point of the “blade” closest to the grip, the sponge edge now facing upward to the black sky. The handle was now facing toward Hachi, which confused her for a moment because those words were not indicating yielding.

All within a moment, he dashed forward and was now about half a meter in front of Hachi. He stepped forward once with his left leg, swinging his armed left arm across horizontally to his right, despite the lack of a blade pointed in that direction, then stepping again with his right leg, bringing the Splatana back across. Both of these attacks were barely blocked, but the movement kept him close enough to keep applying pressure on the off-guard Hachi, who was left to guess what his next move was.

Finally, once his Splatana was brought back near to his hip, he “drew” the sword into an underhand position with his right hand and swung it from the bottom left to his top right, bringing it back down to his left again. These attacks were suddenly faster and stronger than before, surprising Hachi who could barely block these newly empowered attacks.

It wasn’t over yet, he quickly spun clockwise, switching his grip back to normal, and using his momentum to have one last swing going from his upper left to the lower right, creating a very loud * CLACK * as it struck against the wooden pole. Every strike seemed to be exponentially stronger and faster than the last, each slash increasing Hachi’s astonishment. Also, was she seeing things or was the water flying from the Splatana making a faint blade? 

Now the finale, the now focused swordfish seamlessly and flawlessly switched back into a 2 handed grip and sliced upward, which Hachi successfully blocked with the pole, but the energy behind it was so dominant that it caused her to be launched about a meter straight up into the air in front of her attacker. 

Hachi (and even Agent 3) was shocked at this display of power, even though both (especially Agent 3) are perfectly capable at such raw acts of strength. The now soaring Octoling was the most surprised out of the 2, instinctually reverting back to her first language to shout in her own mind: 

何?!

She could see him turning the sword around in slow motion to prepare for the final and most powerful strike yet of the string of attacks. The music continued to sync along in the background of the grand attack, the electric guitar player now shredding the instrument like a full powered splatling.

♬ “ MY DREAMS DISAPPEAR!!!” ♬

Right before the grounded and motivated Octoling struck her down, he affirmed one thing out loud:

“ I’LL CUT YOU IN TWO! ” 

* ZHLING *

Comes the water cutting downwards through the air, as the swordsfish struck downwards to his lower right side, emitting a noise akin to a hissing sprinkler. Hachi could barely see a thin transparent line approaching as she braced the wooden pole with both hands to protect herself.

* crACK *

It sounded like thunder struck near Hachi. The airborne Octoling felt water go across her body at a decently high speed, some getting in her right eye and causing her to close it, but there was no feeling of any cutting on her body. 

The agent got a great view of the finisher at the edges of the roof. Visually, it looked as if there was almost a wall of water following the blade’s movements as it went through the air. Physically though, the water coming from the blade essentially turned the usual ink trail of the Splatana into a sort of pressure washer, giving it about half a meter of length. Compared to this, Hachi felt like she was making tiny ripples in the ocean while he was making tsunamis. 

Before she knew it, the flabbergasted Hachi was falling back down onto the concrete roof, where Agent 3 reacted in a flash, catching her right into her arms like a hero catching their lo- 

No, no, no, like a sack, a sack of rice. Briskly, she swept that last thought under the mental rug. Agent 3 then quickly scanned the frozen Hachi for any signs of wounding, finding none, almost immediately relaxing the briefly and rarely anxious Inkling. After taking a moment to be released, she realized the compromising image this painted and safely put Hachi back on her feet, who didn’t seem to come to the same conclusion. 

“Oh! Nice catch!” Hachi praised with a wink and a beak-bearing smile, forgetting to open her eye from the water. Agent 3 only silently tilted their head down in response.

Hachi then looked within her hands where there lay 2 broken halves of the wooden pole, with a break where the middle would’ve been. It seemed it wasn’t the water cutting through it that caused it to split, more as if the water’s force was the final straw that broke the humpback’s back. 

Once she got comfortable being on the floor again, she just realized how electrifying that “performance” was. It was perfected by the fact that it occurred to her that the music ended right when she was hit with that final attack. Hachi looked at the billboard, once in-sync with its surroundings was now playing generic ads for everyday items.

Across from the 2 inkfish, the now exhausted Octoling held his ending stance for his last swing, visibly breathing and trying to regain composure. He attempted to “sheath” the sword once more, before it was interrupted by him stumbling onto his butt. He was completely drained, it seemed he gambled the battle in that final all out attack, even a swim form inkfish would be able to defeat him with a flick of the tentacle. Carefully, he put the Splatana down.

“Blast!” he wheezed in frustration. 

Agent 3 and Hachi then trudged over to him and subsequently picked up the Splatana, which now held a more impressive aura, despite nothing changing at all about it visually or functionally. The rain was now slowing down and was more of a sprinkle. Hachi then assured the defeated samurai about his Splatana:

“I am sorry, but going to keep this for now Mr. Thief, but I know you are the owner now! But stealing is bad, dayo . If you ask like a nice person tomorrow, I will give it back, ok?” 

He didn’t seem to react at all, despite looking right at her with a very small snarl and slight confusion.

“Do you understand?” She asked in a genuine manner, slightly raising her eyebrows in concern, hoping he wasn’t about to pass out.

“Fine, I’ll defeat you and take back what is rightfully mine. My technique will be absolute.” He reluctantly shot back. Agent 3 slightly furrowed her brow as he just made that whole scenario up for no reason. 

Hachi simply responded with a cheery “Ok!” 

She mentioned absolutely nothing of the sort, but she was still interested if she could learn to do any more cool things with other weapons from him. Might as well see how this plays out as she didn’t have anything else going on with her life at the moment.
“Let’s go, 3!” Hachi said to Agent 3, who wondered why she let him go so easily despite the trouble he caused, her eye twitched from the memories of soup getting put in her face. As they turned around to find a way off the roof, Hachi suddenly remembered to ask the swordsfish’s name, but before she could say anything, he was already standing on the ledge facing outward to the city and head turned to somewhat face the Splatoon duo.

“I won’t lose next time, hold onto that until then.” Before he leaped downward into the alleyway to search for the cloak he threw for theatrical effect.

For once, it was a sentence spoken by him without hostility, more of respect. This gave Hachi a little more cheerfulness as she walked away, glad that there weren't any real tensions between them. Hachi went over to pick up her bag and check her phone, it was around a few hours left until midnight. Immediately she felt a bit guilty as she had Agent 3 along with her the whole time and didn’t mean to take up her time like this.

“Oh, sorry for keeping you for so long, 3. It's 22:43 now.”

Agent 3 closed her eyes and waved it off. 

“It's fine.” she mumbled in assurance.

To her it wasn’t really an issue, but Hachi didn’t want her to just walk home all drenched and cold in the middle of the night and catch a cold. She was already recovering from an injury (or a sickness? disease?). Then, she had the perfect idea.

“Want to just sleep over on the couch in my room? I can give you a blanket.”

Agent 3 then froze in place for a second with her eyes still closed, then slowly nodded. Suddenly, she had an issue walking back to her lone apartment. So it was agreed upon then. 

—

The 2 walked together back to the temporary apartment, the rain had now stopped and it was just like any other nighttime stroll through the city. Hachi was humming a tune and looking at everything around her, not yet worn out with the Inkopolis nighttime scenery. Agent 3 walked close to her, occasionally responding to questions Hachi might ask her randomly, some ranging from normal to completely innocent.

“So does this mean a shrimp fried with this rice?” She asked, pointing at a dish on a restaurant menu. “Or is it just shrimp pieces inside?”

“It has shrimp in it.” Agent 3 replied, getting comfortable around Hachi.

“Hmmm, sō ka, the Valley we never had as many foods as this. Is it good?” 

Agent 3 simply shrugged, not remembering if she had it before. 

“Cal-” she quickly stopped herself, wanting to avoid the guaranteed barrage of questions if she were to mention knowing the Squid Sisters.

“Agent 1 loves it.” 

“Well, we should try it! When it's open.” 

—

Finally, they both arrived at the apartment. The moment they took off their shoes and got in, Hachi put her stuff away neatly and collapsed onto the bed.

“Ahhhh, tsukaretaaaa~.” She wanted to fall asleep right there, but got right back up to get the extra blanket and pillow for Agent 3. Hachi “set up” the couch as best she could for her. While she was busy, Agent 3 looked around the room, what little there was to look at. 

She looked at the book on the desk, “100 Poems from the Shark Tamers.” Figures someone as thoughtful as Hachi would have a book like that. Agent 3 also noticed the notebook, but didn’t open it out of respect, albeit curious nonetheless. The one thing that was very noticeable though was the Golden Toothpick hairpin. Something like this would be worn, Agent 3 reckons, but seeing how it isn’t, it's probably of sentimental value. For some reason it gave off a tiny feeling of tranquility.

“Here you go Agent 3, it is done.” 

Agent 3 looked over at the couch, not much on its own, but because Hachi made it, it looked more welcoming. Hachi walked over to the desk, on the verge of collapse and quickly opened the notebook and wrote down something.

“The world I knew seems like a trap.

I'm drawn now to the strange and new.

Would my old friends think me a sap?”

Before she stumbled back towards bed, but then turned around to close the notebook, then spinning back around back to fall back into bed once more. Agent 3 wasn’t a poetry girl but even she could feel the place in Hachi’s heart where the poem came from. 

Soon after, she turned off the lights and plopped herself onto the couch. There was no curtain for the window, so there was still some visibility in the room from the outside cityscape. As Agent 3 laid down on the couch, she felt a wave of comfort, one that wasn’t ever present when she slept alone in her own apartment. Silence filled the room, faint noises from the city could barely be heard, the whirring of some cars driving by, and the occasional ad from an electronic sign was audible. It was impossible to tell if Hachi already fell asleep. Finally, maybe Agent 3 will get a good night's sleep after this eventful evening. She rested her head onto the fresh pillow given to her by Hachi and closed her eyes, hoping to at last put this wild day in the past.

—

The room slowly became darker and darker, with the rain growing more and more silent, yet no sleep came to Agent 3. 

She laid there in the black, only slightly illuminated by the outside, which grew darker still as the night came into being. Even with how tired she became from all the excitement, she was unable to sleep. It seemed peace was something that was always in view yet always out of reach for Agent 3. 

With the absence of any distractions, once again her consciousness drifted back to those thoughts that once appeared as she was squatting in front of the convenience store. There were no distractions for her now, marking the time for all those thoughts she pushed away to simmer in her head.

Everyday it seemed to become more and more like this, it made Agent 3 feel like the silt at the bottom of the sea. Ever since she joined the Splatoon, there has been a slow decline of interest in normal Inkling life. Things that she used to have lots of fun doing, things like turf war, or just walking around the unknown parts of the city. 

Now? It just feels like she didn’t belong. It was an epiphany she had when she woke up in the Deep Sea Metro, realizing her only motivation was to save her friends and nothing else. No other ambitions or plans when she got out, just to get everyone out of the dangerous spot. 

Whatever , Agent 3 concluded. It will go away she assumed, adding to the many times she repeated it to herself before. 

These moments of realization have passed by many times before, she thought it was simply a momentary phase that would pass in due time, yet everyday since then it slowly and slowly got worse. It got to a point where she would rarely leave her house unless called to do work for the Splatoon. 

She stared into the dark layered on top the ceiling, yearning for something to listen too in the silence that engulfed the room. Music was one of the few things left in her life she actually found pleasure in from the normal world. Sometimes it was simply background noise but sometimes it felt like songs she immersed herself in was also her way of looking into a window to her own soul. 

Quietly, Agent 3 sat up and reached around at the floor for her headset, being very careful to not wake up the slumbering Hachi. 

She stopped for a moment and looked at the bed that was placed right next to the couch. The bed was placed parallel to the wall, like the couch, so it was essentially one long line of cushions. Agent 3 saw Hachi’s hair but nothing that was part of her face was visible. She did hope the Octoling was getting much better sleep than she was, she deserves it after what she's been through . 

Noises of the city could faintly be heard through the window, car noises, random billboard ads, just muffled sounds just barely were audible to the lonely Inkling. 

It was the potential start of a new era for Inkopolis, no, for the wider world. From what news she heard on the big screen television, some smart people theorized that the surge of ex-Octoling soldiers immigrating from the north might cause a dramatic shift in businesses, technology, and general culture.

Yet despite all that, Agent 3 just always felt like she would end up watching everything through her own bubble within the massive stone ocean that was the normal world, disconnected.

Carefully, she put on the headphones and hit the shuffle button on her playlist, no matter what genre it seemed to help her sleep, even the most high energy songs. Though, there wouldn’t be much time left in the night to sleep a decent amount, she pondered if it was the universe's way of making her paying her debt. 

♬ ”As I stare into the eye of the coming!

Apocalypse I see them reaching for my soul!” ♬

Slowly but surely, Agent 3 started to drift away to the opening lyrics of the death metal song about mythological creatures. The Inkling just wanted to get his horrible night time wake over with already, but part of her also knew it was something that was a long time coming. Eventually, falling into a restless slumber. 

It seemed there was no rest for the wicked. What followed that night was a vision of her battles during her first campaign against the Octarian army. A reminder of her failures as a person.

There wasn't anything particularly graphic nor shocking from her memories, in fact at the time the young Kaori thought it was fun. No, the plague laid hidden within the bigger picture. 

To put it simply, she hated herself for mindlessly accepting her task of taking back the Zap fish, Inkopolis gained almost nothing while the Octo-society had everything to lose. Any diplomacy would’ve prevented such an event or perhaps if Kaori went in pursuit of the truth, yet she decided to fight without thinking. 

She watched young Kaori progress through the battle, every splat reminding her the idiocy of it all. Every win made sure to remind her of their dwindling hope. The hurt nested right in her soul with the coming of the soon crumbling world that was the Octo-region. Every meter gained, a step closer to reducing their society back into the medieval era, she could feel the “devil” inside her, and it was coming right for them.

It was still useless if they respawned at some hidden spawn point unharmed, her purpose was to drag them back down into the dark age. Every single member of their world. Even if they splatted her, it couldn’t kill her. She would always come crawling right back as their Omega.

Kaori felt no respect for the “demon” that was her past self. The signs were painfully obvious to her, if only she did a little bit of thinking instead of slashing through, aiming sights, and forcing her victims into settling up. 

The longer the fight went on, the more she wanted to be let out from this reflection, but she knew it was her obligation to take it all in. 

The voices screamed as Kaori approached the caged Zap Fish. She watched as the Octarians grew more and more desperate all while the Inkling shot through them cheering, ignorant of the situation. 

Inkling shot open the glass and reached over to justify the reason why she tore down all those Octarians for. 

Like a bell, it ringed throughout her mind as she looked through the broken glass dome. A reflection of Kaori appeared on the shattered glass while the rest of the mostly unbroken dome displayed what Agent 3 is today. A sad, eternally drifting, version of herself, too burdened by her mistakes to reclaim the joy she once had. 

Long ago, perhaps there once was an Inkling destined to live a normal, cheerful life, but she missed that road. The only thing left of her in that shell, that broken mirror, was the unnatural ability to cause mass amounts misery and pain.

Kaori knew she was hell-bound and accepted it without a second thought.

Chapter Text

I humbly ask, I humbly ask: though 'tis sudden, where doth lie Hell?

Whilst the demons laugh, the people weep. Since it doth lie outside the bounds of virtuous deeds,

I shall undertake the task of felling the Netherworld.

For I am a vulgar samurai of lowest rank.

I have not intent of dying the honorable death of a warrior.

- Tale of the Unfaltering Awakened Samurai

—

Awake at dawn once again. Hachi was starting to believe she never intended to change her sleep schedule and only wanted the freedom to change it however she wanted. She just had the strangest dream, it didn’t seem to mean anything but it was odd as it took place in the metro. 

All she could remember was waking up in the Deep Sea Metro then getting up and walking through the train, while seeing a lot of familiar faces. She remembered seeing Cuttlefish, Pearl and Marina who never stepped foot in the Metro at the time, the passengers, and then oddly enough a car of passive sanitized Octolings, along with Agent 3. Well more accurately her presence was felt there, if Hachi turned around she would’ve seen her, but she never actually saw her. The final cart had Tartar by himself. Oh, it was playing that Pearl and Marina song through the speakers, which name eludes Hachi at the moment. 

She felt like there was more, but the recollection was barely there in the first place, like many other waking dreams. It felt weird, it was oddly strengthening, but mostly confusing. Nothing else she could gain from this besides a conversation topic, she guesses.

Still barely aware she was waking up, she grabbed her phone and quickly checked time. Not even a week and she was already copying the wake-up-check-phone routine that usually is done by people in Inkopolis. It was just a few days until she moves to a more stable living place. She has still yet to meet Agent 4.

Then she spotted something that made her forget her last 5 second thoughts, she just got a text from Marina and Pearl checking in on Hachi to see if she is doing well. Hachi really wanted to respond right away, but she could barely comprehend the text as it was, something about being “up eighty” something. Groggily, she turned off her phone and decided to respond later when she could understand words that were more than 3 letters long. 

She sat up at the side of the bed and looked outside the window, as she has done for the last several days she has been residing in this apartment. The sunlight was even brighter than ever it seemed. The rain from last night took the clouds with them, as if the water washed away with the clouds as well.

To try and regain focus, she picked a random person to observe. A silly Inkling on the street wearing a plain black t-shirt and gray sweatpants performed a funny walk by swinging their arms in an exaggerated way in front and behind them at the same time while also stepping forward in an equally exaggerated way toward their 2 other Inklings. The Inkling, whose hair looked like a cartoon mustache, then in a panic looked down at their pants, which were completely unchanged. It seemed like they were panicking and wondering if their fly was down. 

After about a few moments of looking at the random passersby going about their day, Hachi’s cleanliness senses awakened and urged her to change out of her classic Octoling clothes, which was both dirtied by both rainwater and sweat at this point. Fresh clothes time! Turning to get her new clothes from her bag, her eyes cast her gaze upon the couch, where she saw a poorly dressed Inkling silently laying face down on the couch with the blanket barely covering them. A single arm hung off the edge of the couch on the floor motionless.

Hachi jumped with a slight yelp then quickly covered her mouth to stay quiet, only now remembering that Agent 3 slept over at her place to avoid walking back through the rain at night without an umbrella. Slowly, she tiptoed toward the lump of rags on her couch and carefully tucked her into the blanket, for a moment she thought she saw Agent 3 twitch, but she still didn’t seem awake. A small smile unknowingly appeared on Hachi’s face for a moment as she watched over her, thinking about how ironic the situation was.

Hachi then made her way to her bag and grabbed her new clothes then towards the bathroom, pausing to get one last look at the creature on the couch then proceeding once again. 

—

“ In the summer night

The evening still seems present,

But the dawn is here.

To what region of the clouds

Has the wandering moon come home?”

Hachi did not regret buying the poem book one bit. She had no idea who the Shark Tamers were but they were great with their words, also giving her a good amount of Inklish practice. It also gave her a faint feeling of familiarity, it somewhat reminded her of Octonese poems as well, but she had no idea why, it was most likely just a similar structure.

There at the desk, Hachi sat in her new clothes, reading with a random music station playing out loud on her phone speaker, while also fiddling with the golden toothpick.

♬ “ Though much I don't understand.

There are only a few words I learned to say,

but I don't care, I don't care (That's right!).

Above is the sky and below is the ground!

My heart is here.” ♬

It was only the first verse and already Hachi felt like she resonated with it down to her soul. Mind you, it wasn’t as emotional as that Squidsisters song, but it's definitely high up there. Hachi reached over at her phone and added the song to her ever growing playlist. 

As she flipped through menus at a decent pace (but not as fast as an experienced phone user), it hit her that Pearl and Marina texted her a while and she almost forgot to respond. Nervously, she opened the message app, hoping they didn’t interpret the delay as ignoring them. 

—

Pearl > Ayo, whats up eighty-eight, hows it hanging! Its MC Princess, The Baroness of Bars, MC Foreign Policy, Notorious P.E.R.L, Pygmy Smalls!

Pearl > Who am I kiddin, you know me! You doing well in Inkopolis? Any dumb&%@es trying to mess with you for being new in town?  

Marina > Don’t swear Pearl >:(!! Hachi, that's a rude word, it's like “バカ” [idiot] , don’t say it to strangers. 

Pearl > *Dummies

Pearl > It was a miss input.

Marina > Wait, does the chat now support Octonese letters? When did it do that?

Marina > Anyways are you doing fine 8? I heard there was some rain last night, do you need extra clothes or anything?

Marina > Make any new friends?

Pearl > You can have some of my extras lmao, if you can fit into them.

Seeing how Hachi didn’t recognize the word, she was gonna take Marina’s word for it and not say it to other people. It was still surreal to Hachi that she is friends with 2 of the biggest role models she could have ever dreamed of, who also happened to be massive celebrities. Last texts were sent at 03:00 ( Why are they up that late??? ), so luckily they probably were expecting a later response. After a bit of thinking, Hachi put some words down into the phone.

Hachi > Hello Pearl and Marina senpai!! I am doing great! I have already gotten my first new clothes so I do not need yours, Pearl senpai. I already made a friend and met another Octoling. We got into a fight but I think we are friends now. My name is now Hachi but you can still call me eight!

Suddenly Hachi got an idea. After checking to see if Agent 3 was still asleep, she switched to the camera app and took a selfie with the sleeping beauty, now with an exposed face being squished against the cushion. Hachi made the same tiny smiling face as she did taking selfies with the Thangs in the Metro. Then she sent it to the group chat to show off her new friend. Surprisingly, both responded pretty quickly.

Hachi > It was raining and I did not want her to be sick so I let her sleep over like bunkmates in the army!

Pearl > HAHA WAIT WHAT YOU HAVE BEEN OUT FOR A WEEK HOW YOU ALREADY SLEPT WITH A GIRL

Pearl has been kicked from the chatroom.

For some reason, Hachi felt like she should be feeling something from this response, but she couldn’t figure out what that emotion would be.

Marina > Oh, how nice of you, Hachi :O! This picture reminds me of that embarrassing pic Pearl sent you. Just remember to be careful with people you meet! 

Pearl has been added to the chatroom.

Pearl > Sorry.

Pearl > Oh yeah, don’t forget you’re moving your butt out in a few days, so dont go overboard with the merch

Pearl > we will be over to hang out too lmao

Marina > Nothing formal, we want to see how you’re doing! Remember, we’ll help you with anything, so just ask!

Pearl > Think of us as ur parents

Pearl > unless youre trying to become a rival MC

Pearl > KIDDING, if you wanna be a MC like your dear ol Pearl and mama Marina, we are basically an infinite money cheat

Pearl > at least I can.

Marina > MAMA?!

Pearl > OH YEAH AND WE CAN FINALLY DO A TURF WAR TOGETHER 

Honestly, she didn’t want to bother them any further, as she felt like they already helped so much to get Hachi on her feet in Inkopolis, she is basically indebted to them. Asking for anything more would feel like being greedy. 

Hachi > Pearl senpai Marina senpai you done so much for me so I do not think I need anything else. I am really grateful for both of you ;__;. I think once I move I will be ok on my own. But I still want to message both of you! 

Pearl > Aw look it, copying her mama with the emoticon

A small flush gave way to Hachi’s skin after the spot on observation.

Marina > STOP (╥﹏╥)

Marina > Really, Hachi, we care for you, so don’t hesitate to ask for help. We always can make time for you! Also you don’t need to call us senpai. 

Pearl > im fine with it lol

—

Now filled with giddy happiness, Hachi turned off her phone with a * click * and simply sat there in the chair for a moment. All she could simply do was sit there in silence, repeating to herself about how lucky she is to be friends with Marina and Pearl (senpai). 

After a while of immersing herself in that bubbly feeling, Agent 3 began to stir. Hachi looked over at the couch as the weary Inkling turned her face to look at her with eyes that were impossible to tell if they were open or closed. Then, she “looked” at Hachi and mumbled something incoherently.

“ Ohayo, Three!” Greeted Hachi, before starting up music back on her phone.

♬ “Just go with what I feel, yeah.

It will work out (Work out!),

If only I could keep running!” ♬

Such a motivational song gave some pep in Hachi’s step as she stood up and looked outside the window once again, somehow seeing everything differently now. Hachi felt like moving alot, but she didn’t know in what way and didn’t want to disturb the snoozing Inkling. It was like somehow her mental software got an update while talking to Marina and Pearl. Now the install was nearly complete with the awakening of Agent 3. 

Eagerly, Hachi grabbed her poem book and sat down at the other end of the couch, legs pulled toward her body, letting Agent 3 take her time to fully awaken. Today felt like it was gonna be great, in fact, she feels like today will be another important day for her, and Hachi is gonna be enjoying every second of it as much as she can. Suddenly, another poem formed within her head as she watched the bustling city below.

“ You paint the turf with graceful strokes.

With watchful eye, I breathe a sigh.

From sniper's perch, I go for broke.”

—

“Are you sure you are not busy, 3?” Hachi leaned in and asked as she waited for the waiter to bring their food over. Both her hands rested on her lap on top of each other.

They were waiting at an outside table belonging to some small burger joint. This time Agent 3 was the one paying, her way of saying thanks for letting her sleep the night. She only had a bunch of fries, despite her physically draining adventures last night.

“It's ok.” Agent 3 responded, gazing off behind Hachi at the surrounding scenery. 

“The doctors said I should rest before doing any work again.” While this was true, but also now as the technical Captain of the Splatoon, Agent 3 decided her own vacation days. Especially when there is no imminent “threat” that could be investigated.

Hachi nodded as she tried looking to see what Agent 3 was staring at, which was nothing in particular. She returned her gaze to Agent 3 as they both waited, eyes first landing on the small mark around her eye. Even though she didn’t hold any responsibility for it, it still made her feel a bit bad as it was Agent 3 saving her and Cuttlefish which led to her being infected with the sanitation slime.

“Is your eye ok?” She asked with a worried face.

Agent 3’s relaxed, maybe tired, eyes returned to look at Hachi without turning her head, finding it cute that Hachi cared. 

“It's just a temporary mark, it doesn’t hurt or anything. Don’t worry about it.” Agent 3 assured.

“Temporary?” Hachi repeated in a curious tone, not knowing what that Inklish word ment. 

Agent 3 forgot that Inklish wasn’t Hachi’s first language, even with all the occasional Octonese being mixed into her sentences. For someone who self taught, most likely no proper exposure to Inklish speakers, she spoke pretty clearly.

The thought of learning a language without any help and in an area where it is essentially all but absent was one of the things that Agent 3 respected the most about Hachi, almost to the degree to her combat capability, perhaps even more. 

“Sorry, it means it won’t be there forever,” she clarified, with the smallest and rarest of smiles. 

From the register, an employee called their order up.  

“I’ll get it.” Agent 3 volunteered before standing up from her seat.

“Thank you!” Hachi replied cheerily, admiring how kind and cool Agent 3 is. The respect that Agent 3 held for Hachi was high, but the appreciation that Hachi held for Agent 3 was higher, despite their past meetings.

As fast as she got up, she returned with the trays of food. Some fries and a burger on Hachi’s tray and a small fry bundle for Agent 3. Despite the exercise she got last night and the absence of any food since then, for some unknown reason Agent 3 didn’t feel that hungry.

“ Dekai ne! Are all food this big?” Hachi said in slight amazement.

Agent 3 slightly raised her eyebrow as she watched the Octoling react to the food in front of her

She always wanted to try the famous burgers of the city, the ads all over the city always made it look like the tastiest thing in the world. It certainly did not disappoint, it was probably one of the largest things she ate in her life, she even got the “regular” size. 

Carefully, she started biting her way through the sandwich as Agent 3 sat there eyes drifting off once again, occasionally taking a few fries to consume. 

“In Octo-turf, there was not much meat,” Hachi started telling Agent 3 in between bites,

“At camp, they changed around 3 meals, rice was always with them” she continued looking down at her food. Agent 3 once again returned her eyes to Hachi.

“I remember miso soup, vegetables, and umeboshi.” 

Then she looked up to Agent 3 with a small smile, this time telling her the word's meaning. 

“Plums. Only a few times there was a meal with fish caught from the water.”

She cheerfully bites into her burger once again as Agent 3 watches her curiously. The Octo army always seemed somewhat short on supplies in her experience, it always stood out to the Inkling that usually the Octoling soldiers only had the basic version of each weapon class while the average Inkling would have about 2 or 3 variations of each weapon type. Not only that but the lands north of Inkopolis always looked barren of any healthy land, she was surprised any crops could be grown in the first place.

On the outside, Agent 3 continued slowly snacking on her fries with no change in demeanor, but despite her light meal, something within her felt a lot heavier than usual. 

As Hachi finished her food and waited for Agent 3 to finish (despite having a vastly smaller “meal”), she seemed to have guessed that those memories she just reminisced about had some sort of effect on Agent 3 as her eyelids went down in the tiniest of motions.

“Um, I am sorry for talking about that…” She apologized looking down at her hands, somewhat shocking Agent 3. 

“I did not mean it to be sad, I just thinking about it.” 

Agent 3 somewhat froze for a moment once again, she REALLY didn’t want to bring Agent 8 down with her brooding. Half of her was panicking about what to say in response while the other half was still dumbfounded by how well she was able to notice. Even her long time friends Marie and Callie had issues trying to guess what she was feeling based on silence alone, and it was definitely not from a lack of trying (at least on Callie’s part).

Instinctively, she brought up the back of her hand to cover her mouth out of embarrassment and moved her eyes away, she never felt more exposed before. Not once has she ever had anyone realize even a shred of her inner thoughts regarding her time fighting the Octarians.

No, if I do this Agent 8 will think she did something wrong, Agent 3 quickly rationalized. Not her, not Agent 8, she deserves better , before moving her hand back and shifting her eyes back and forth from Hachi’s to anywhere else.

“Its-” Briefly stuttering.

“It wasn’t sad, it was interesting.”

Mentally, she was cursing herself for such a lackluster response, she needed to think of something, fast. The fear of ruining Agent 8’s mood was something the Inkling never felt before and was a new experience for her. She only ever used to fear physical things like getting shot at. Finally, an idea came to her head.

Usually it was an activity she would refrain from doing by herself as she lost all interest in doing it, but now that Hachi was with her…

Hachi looked up at her, naturally doing puppy dogs eyes. It was too much for Agent 3. Doing her absolute best to look and sound natural and not at all trying to take Agent 8’s mind off their last topic, she suggested something to do for today.

“Do you want to do some turf wars?” 

Chapter Text

“ READY? GO!”

The spawn point blared to the orange team, 1 Inkling in particular wielding the Splat Dualies was especially itching to go and get into some fights. As the other 3 team members started their scramble across Mako Mart, this one Inkling made a leisurely stroll to the right side of the spawn location, making her way to the right side of the map, inking some turf along the way. 

She was basking in the sunlight, it seemed the rainstorm that occurred last night was the prologue to a beautiful sunshine, which came through the skylight of the grocery store. Such a bright day must be celebrated with some singing, so she sang to herself as she calmly made her way to the flank route, as if to speak heresy against the gospel that is the match chosen background music.

♪ “ When a violent storm is over, the blue sky is more beautiful than ever!” ♪

As the girl hummed the song where the lyric hailed from, she passed by a refrigerator, getting a small glimpse of herself in the glass, which was even more detailed now that the sunlight was as bright as it could possibly be.

In the glass was an orange Inkling sporting an small, almost perpetual, troublemaker’s beak bearing grin, with relaxed orange-red eyes upon light brown skin. Oh, and not to forget the black natural eyeliner that went across her eyes, a part of being an Inkling.

Well, it was actually quite difficult to tell her eyes were that color, as she was wearing a pair of custom made orange sunglasses, inspired by a chaos deity. It lacked a frame and each thin orange lens were giant Xs, each line of the X being a decently wide rectangle.

There were no pads to rest on the nose, only a gray metal bridge shaped like a bone with a black cushion behind it to be comfortable on the face. 2 little rivets held the lenses to the bridge. On the front of the bridge were some illegible scribbles written on them. They were there to invoke the idea of human language, but they are truly meaningless. The temples which rested the glasses on the ears were mostly made up of rectangular gray metal. 

She was sporting a classic haircut, once upon a time it was just called “haircut,” but now a new idol has popped up in Inkopolis with a similar style, and now everyone is calling it the “Pearl haircut.” 

Another day, another idol, one more thing to look into on my to-do list. And here I thought Marie and Callie were the big thing around here.

Poking out from behind her hair and covering her ears was the “Hero Headphones Replica,” and while it was cool and interesting all with all its flashing lights, it honestly just seemed like a fancy pair of plain headsets. At the moment they played no music and were set to normal hearing mode.

Cut to the body below that, it sported a replica of the “Hero Hoodie” she once used in her campaign to get the some zap fishes back. 

Isn’t this just a plain yellow windbreaker hoodie? The Inkling realized, now that all the special gear was stripped from the replica, that's all it seemed to be. Besides the white covering chest area and half of the arm, it was a plain jacket with a hoodie. There was no branding or anything of the sort to be found on it.

Money-Muncher Marie was so desperate enough to get her sister back that she was willing to actually give an Inkling with a whole windbreaker and a headset to fight against an entire army, how generous. She was jesting of course, Marie was actually a pretty good friend to this Inkling along with their cousin Callie, who was the Inkling equivalent of a shot of pure sugar in a rainbow themed iced coffee. 

Past the classic shorts, which this Inkling basically almost always wore, owning several copies of the same brand with the same line running down the leg, were the shoes. 

To be honest, she couldn’t complain about the shoes, despite the fact they are clearly designed to be used in the snow. The “Hero Snow Boots Replicas” were the last part of the fresh fit that Marie gifted to the Inkling once her time with the Splatoon was over. 

I really hope I get to have a chance to actually use these in the snow sometime, does Inkopolis even snow at all?

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Easy: Success]: Rarely, if at all. Even then, the snow wouldn’t nearly be thick enough to warrant snow boots to be worn.  

Yeah, figures.

And with that, the Inkling quickly resumed her game, having the attention span to spend only a few seconds in front of the glass. By the time she reached the overlook of the flank round, her Tenta Missiles were already ready for use, but using it now on in such an advantageous spot would be too reasonable, practical, boring, and most of all, unfun.

As she stared down the line running under the giant wall of stacked products, she spotted a blue team player coming back around from their side of the map and now making their way across on lane, but something was different about this one.

Not only were they seemingly using a weapon the Inkling hadn't seen before, but she was also sporting a rather nice black bandana on her head. Well, it wasn’t the bandana itself that was interesting, but the hair it was wrapped on. That shape, that pattern, the thinness, and the timing, that could only mean one thing:

“Jackpot.” The Inkling said to herself, “Time to see what it's all about.”

She quickly holstered her Duelies on her leg holsters and hopped down off her highground in dramatic fashion.

The Inkling’s blue target was now walking alongside the giant wall, not inking inorder to stay quiet and maintain the element of surprise. Last second, right before they made it to the wider portion of the path along the tall wall, an orange burst bomb dropped and exploded right in front of them, inking the rest of the path, cutting their path off. Quickly the blue player prepared for an attacker on the top of the wall, the only place where the burst bomb could’ve come from.

A moment passed, but there seemed to be no attacker afterall. Probably just a miss from one of the battles in mid. Before they could start inking over it, the orange Inkling girl suddenly casually walked right past them, coming from behind, causing the blue player to jump. She tapped the blue player on their right shoulder as she walked by.

“Hey,” 

Then turned around to face them, while still walking backwards to position herself in the center of the orange ink splotch, as if it was her mark on a stage play.

Now it was 2 opposing players staring off at each other, 1 analyzing how the other reacted with a cheeky grin, while the other was processing what just happened with a face that looks like it was running several math equations in their head. The battles from mid were able to be heard in full for a moment along with the standard yet still chaotic background track which the girl was very familiar with, called Broken Coral.

Finally her opponent recovered from confusion with a few blinks and intensified their battle stance with their peculiar weapon, yet still hesitating and wondering what this deceptive Inkling was doing right in front of her. Suddenly, the Inkling drew her right pistol and tried spinning it in her hand.

* Fwowo*

* clack*

A Duelie pistol sat on the ground. It was a sound very familiar to the Inkling, she heard it at least a hundred times before practicing alone in her apartment. The blue player’s eyes looked from the pistol to the Inkling. The dead-faced Inkling stared at it for a second, before breaking the awkward silence with an impish reply and bending over to pick it up.

“Hahaha! Ah, figures.”

The blue inkfish’s head tilted as the Inkling once again picked up the weapon and returned it to her holster. Then she asked a direct question to the blue team member.

“Your name is Hachi, right? Saw it in the introductions.” 

Then she paused, then added another question.

“You do go by she/her, right?” 

Hachi once again tilted her head a bit in confusion, then slightly nodded, not fully understanding the reason for the 2nd question.

“Cool, you can call me by whatever you want, I don’t mind. Though I do use more feminine labels in my papers.” The Inkling added, slightly confusing Hachi more with the seemingly random comment at the end.

She glanced at Hachi’s fresh clothes.

“Annaki tee and punk cherries, huh? Nice choice.”

Hachi couldn’t help but think the voice sounded like a slightly deeper, raspy, feminine, version of that one voice acting celebrity she heard about on the internet. She tried to recall his name, Robbie Cray-mond? Her only knowledge of the guy was hearing his voice in a video game ad advertising its acting cast.

She took a second to think before responding with a slightly confused, simple friendly reply.

“Thank you, you look fresh, too. What are those glasses?” 

“Oh, some small brand, I think the company drifted away a looong time ago.”

Hachi analyzed the glasses, trying to find a brand label anywhere, but unable to find any, besides some unreadable doodles on the bridge. Hachi then realized wanted to show some manners seeing how for some reason this Inkling seemingly wanted to be friend, which she will gladly welcome, so she simply started off with something small. 

“Your name was, um, Surume?” With a tone of uncertainty and not wanting to offend her odd acquaintance. 

Surume simply widened her smile. “Glad we could meet. I can tell we are going to get along well, seeing how you let me waltz up to you without trying to splat me yet,” Then she inquired about something a bit more specific.

“You know, did anyone tell you you’re quite tall for an Inkling? Perhaps you wanna join a basketball team I used to run with, or maybe you’re more of a volleyball player?

Shy from the flattery, the blue girl gave a little nervous smile and slightly more shy body language, especially noticeable when she used her free hand to twirl a bit of her hair. Hachi was so focused on the compliment, she didn’t seem to notice the fact that her new acquaintance might have noticed she isn’t an Inkling, but in fact an Octoling.

While it was true that Hachi was taller, Surume was also short for an Inkling. Hachi was about 20-30 cm taller than her, if they were not in their fighting stances, she might have to slightly look down at Surume when talking.

Slowly, the fighting in mid grew louder, now more and more sub abilities were being thrown along with some Specials being used. An audible Tri-zooka was being fired.

“Alright, time for proper introductions.”

Surume was tired of the questions and decided to cut the questions to skip to the fun part. She pulled out a burst bomb, Hachi slightly increased her ready stance.

“I’m going to throw this ink balloon right into the air, and once it goes splat , we’ll go right back to our regularly scheduled to-the-splat skirmish. Don’t want the gamekeepers to think we are throwing, do we?”

Before Hachi could respond, the Inkling already tossed the bomb high up into the air. As she practiced, she took a stance with her open right hand hovering near her left side of the hip with her right shoulder slightly toward her opponent. waiting for the right moment to attack. Hachi’s face returned to a blank look indicating focus while Surume still held on to her eternal smile. 

“Now,” the orange Inkling stated dramatically,

“Show me your theme.”

—

Surume was a little more of a tricker than Hachi anticipated, the burst bomb was thrown at an angle barely touching the wall, detonating it almost instantly.

A wide arc of ink shot through the air toward Surume as Hachi “drew” her weapon from her “scabbard,” (which was just her left hand) while simultaneously swinging horizontally. 

Surume rolled under the flying ink-blade and recovered perfectly, kneeling with the Duelies right in Hachi’s face.

The Inkling’s voice plainly went “ Bang.” 

In the split second moment as Hachi looked down the barrel of the pistols, she leaned back toward her right side before doing a spinning counter-clock wise toward her attacker’s left side to displace herself even further from gun point, and immediately lashing out with a quick Splatana swipe. Oddly enough, no shot was taken during or after the dodge.

The strike nearly connected, but Surume was more dexterous than that. She simply hopped back while keeping both of her blasters pointed at Hachi. Without thinking, Hachi rushed her while lowering her body down closer to the floor, anticipating returning fire, which never came.

Almost in a flash, the Inkling shifted into her ink and swam up the high wall to her left while evading yet another swing from Hachi once again. Before the Octoling could realize what was happening, the Inkling jumped out of the ink near the top of the wall before using the top of Hachi’s head as a convenient stepping stool toward the ramp at the edge of the map.

Surume looked at Hachi with her unchanged cheeky grin before holstering both her blasters, but Hachi was mostly too distracted by her sudden role as a jump pad to take notice.

Hachi found herself wondering if that was a violation of the rules. She recalled all the rules that were present within the Terms of Service, and physical play was definitely not allowed. Does this mean the game would be called off? 

With a little headshake, she snapped herself out of it, focusing back on her opponent, who now was just standing there with her head tilted down slightly to cause a glare upon her glasses, hiding her eyes. 

Something was different in the surrounding air all of a sudden, though it was already odd to begin with from their first meeting. It was about Surume’s body language, Hachi couldn’t put her tentacle on it, it was as if the tempo of a song suddenly increased in speed and became more erratic while retaining a sense of pattern. It reminded the Octoling of a sea snake’s slither.

As if it was simply a training session, Surume stopped to air her thoughts to Hachi, crossing his arms as her left hand held her own chin. Occasionally his head would tilt a direction as if trying to see every angle of Hachi.

“Hehe, I think I’m starting to get a sound of what goes on in that soul of yours! The type who will happily try their hardest,”

He paused for a moment as if to re-organize her thoughts.

“And you’re damn good at playing by the book, but right now you just wanna have some fun. Haha! I get that.” 

As he chuckled by herself, the Octoling listened keenly, unfocused on everything else. Simply put, he was certainly interesting.

“Too bad I can only hear the synth at the moment, I’m excited to hear what the rest of it sounds like!” 

Hachi could not understand whatever in the shell the confusing Inkling was talking about, was this related to her request to “ show them her theme? ” 

Time to think was over, as Surume relaxed back into his normal stance, yet still not taking his guns out. Hachi was now in a more focused mindset, now wanting to at least land a hit on this scoundrel, appreciating an interesting challenge. 

After a second of silence, she decided that was her que to start swinging again, this time deciding to try and hit the skilled Inkling with less precise attacks like the vertical inkblade and try and use the easier to hit but less damaging horizontal inkblade attack. 

As fast as she could, 2 speedy inkblades flung from 2 empty slashes of the Splatana, a simple lean would not avoid them this time. 

In almost an instant, Surume did a grounded forward flip about a meter up the ramp away from where he once stood, impressive acrobatics even for an average Inkling. 

At this point, Hachi decided to give up on discipline and started slinging as many projectiles as she could at the Inkling.

*TSH*

*TSH*

*TSH*

Surume dashed up the ramp avoiding projectiles as an orange streak without ever once going into his swim form, navigating around them like in a zig-zag pattern. The blue Inkfish first thought it was her Duelie rolls at first, but no, the orange target chained 3 together in a row without rolling once, and as noted before, he didn’t have his pistols drawn.

Clearly, she wasn’t dealing with some casual turf war, something like this must have taken much practice and skill, and most of all, an able body. Even with the ground covered in the blue ink, the speedy Inkling navigated through them as if it were not there at all. 

Hachi needed to figure out how to adapt fast, something about the dashes was prime for a weakness, but she couldn’t tell what it was just yet. Now on the high ground, Surume continued to dash around roughly the same area left-to-right, opting out of dashing away to the right toward mid to leave the fight entirely.

*TSH*

*TSH*

Such movements created sounds as if it were machinery, like a high pressure air was being opened and closed over and over. Only milliseconds of the Inkling could be visible before it was replaced with an ink silhouette as he dashed away.

She couldn’t see it, but Hachi could feel his eyes tracking her despite the amount of shmovement. The gun-nut part of her brain wondered if he was utilizing the Duelie’s propulsive exhaust despite its stored state, and admired the ingenuity of utilizing both body motorics and mechanical tools in their own unique way.

*TSH*  

Finally, an idea hit Hachi as she was trying to find an opening when she focused less on the dashes and more on her general surroundings. Drums and pianos rhythmically thumped together on beat as a trumpet started to join in. 

Rhythm , the dashes were perfectly on beat to each projectile swing, and so a plan immediately formed in her head.

For one moment, she held her next swing and watched Surume dashed away from nothing. There it was, the opening she needed! Hachi’s arm’s pulled back, aiming for a direct hit.

The Inkling halted movement for a moment as well, trying to bait out a quick horizontal slash that was expected for her punishment. Splatana now resuming its motion, Surume dashed away, assuming that he got back on “beat,” before Hachi let out a ever-so slower, heavier swing in sync with the dash itself. Even for one hit, the Octoling would not do any half measures.

Such a slight change in tempo was all it took to lead the tall projectile on a course right at Surume. The inkblade hissed through the air, like the hissing of spraying ocean water. In the millisecond moment before impact, Hachi saw the look on Surume’s face, for once the smile disappeared into a more neutral face, but still without any shock. 

* tshWSH *

The hit made a very meaty noise, it sounded like a wave hit against the concrete wall of a bay on a stormy day. The sound echoed slightly in the open arena as the orange challenger found her balance being disrupted as she was struck with the 3 meter tall blade of liquid.

It wasn’t enough to splat, but it certainly had a physical impact on her footing, briefly lifting him off the ground, causing her to flip and causing a * shtap* sound as her body spread wide on the wall. Her body was now flipped on its x-axis, the top of her head pointed to the floor, still yet to start sliding down from gravity, like a tentacle on a glass pane.

“ oogeh.”

Hachi almost put her hand over her face in surprise, unable to decide whether to celebrate landing a hit and also worrying if such force might have hurt her opponent. 

“Are you ok?” She asked in a genuine tone, forgetting that the same chargers used in the turf wars tend to have equally or even more force applied to even smaller surface area. 

Without responding, Surume slowly slid down the wall until her head made contact with the floor. Awkward silence followed as the Inkling’s legs flopped around her head onto the floor. Background noise fell silent, the quiet air felt weird amidst battle. 

The once living wall graffiti was the first to break the silence.

“Yeesh, you got me, Eight. You’re a perfect match for her.” 

The talkative Inkling’s face suddenly changed from her usual grin to a look of realization, as if a massive epiphany just hit her.

“Ohoho! Ya hear that?”

Hachi scanned the area carefully, unsure what she was referring to as nothing sounded different from the surrounding area. Hachi returned curious eye contact with the Inkling, wondering if they had a concussion.

As they held eye contact, Surume’s eyes didn’t move one bit, she could barely see the Inkling's eyes from behind the strange orange glasses, which somehow remained on her face. The Octoling couldn’t put it into words what kind of feeling those eyes gave her, they seemed both focused yet unrestrained at the same time. The eyes of someone who had too much going on in their head, yet still yearned for more. 

A feeling creeped up on Hachi the more she focused into her eyes. What was this feeling? Almost as if someone on the other end of the map summoned a piano, piano notes started faintly playing. It was a hunch, Hachi felt like this wasn’t part of the BGM, the notes were a bit calmer and a different speed. Despite not commenting on this weird audio phenomena, Surume seemed to realize she heard it too.

“Now you’re starting to get the hang of it! I can hear something too, but not whatever you’re listening to, no.”

In a sloppy manner, Surume slowly picked herself up from the ground, “dusting” off nothing from her body before returning to a slightly hunched over idle stance. 

“Hmmm, singers singing in Inklish, yet one had an Octonese accent. Anyone come to mind?”

Yes! Actually no, whatever flashed momentarily in Hachi’s mind was immediately lost. It was right there, yet somehow it evaded her lips. Surume observed as Hachi stared at the floor with her wide eyes, trying to remember what that familiar concept was. 

“Imma take that as a no,” Sumeru assumed, before continuing the rather one sided conversation. 

“Nice moves by the way, the motions alone tell me a story, and I love telling others a good story.” 

As if it were a rehearsal, the Inkling imitated the spinning dodges that Hachi did during the opening clash. This wasn’t mockery, she was trying to find a way to utilize it herself. 

Out of nowhere, Agent 3 marked a super jump right where Hachi stood, snapping her out of the little scenario she found herself in, remembering that she was in fact playing turf war Inkopolis with 6 other people. The Inkling’s face morphed into a frown.

“I guess the audition is coming to a close.”

Before going back to her usual smile. She looked upward at the big screen to check the remaining time of the match.

“We'll meet again. Given who you are.” 

Steadily, the smiling Surume slowly shifted back into Inkling form to initiate a super jump back to spawn without looking away from the big screen.

“Though, I do want to see one last thing before this is all over.” 

Something about that last comment, no, this whole fight caused Hachi to feel like she was really missing something, something about this picture was just out of reach. 

Finally, Agent 3 landed in front of Hachi who stood there still wide eyed and trying to process the ever the shell that encounter was that just happened to her. Agent 3 readied her Splatbrella at the swim form Inkling, before it leaped off back to base. Calmly yet cautiously, she unreadied her weapon.

“Are you fine?” Agent 3 (display name “Kaori”) asked, worried if perhaps Hachi is faint from lack of proper hydration or something. An answer wouldn’t be produced in time as if on cue, Agent 3 heard in the distance a very faint hissing noise. 

A heavy shiver ran across her body like an electric shock.

—

Somewhere, deep in orange team territory, an Inkling calmly activated their Tenta Missiles and pointed all 10 of them directly at the 2 blue team members at the edge of the map. Most would call it a waste of such a powerful tool, but to the orange Inkling, it was more than worth it to see if her theory was correct.

—

It was too late to swim away at this point, Kaori was too rusty and was unable to put her commands into motion. Not only that, but Hachi seemed to also  realize the missiles a bit too late as well, soon to be raining down upon them. She looked up at the incoming projectiles and started to move her Splatana. Agent 3 could see the thought form in Hachi’s face, an extremely stupid one. One that was wondering if she could deflect the ordnance away from her body with her weapon. 

It didn’t take an expert to see it wasn’t going to work, even Hachi herself knew these high pressure explosives were more likely to just blast her weapon to bits than bounce off like a baseball, but she wanted to truly see for herself if it could be done. Her face morphed into a look of determination and focus.

Time seemed to slow down to a freeze to Agent 3. Her marked eye felt like it was dead still compared to her other eye, which was reacting to the stimuli around her. There was no time for her to beat herself up for being too slow, it was the brain to take over. Kaori needed to think of something, fast. The bottle shaped explosive was now only about half an arm’s length away from Hachi’s face now. As expected, her experiment failed, and now she was about to taste the bottle’s flying fury.

Spewed ink erupted from the back end like a volcano, angrily hissing as if it were a water snake.

As fast as she could, Agent 3 thrusted out the splatbrella’s directly in the middle of Hachi’s chest while trying to move her body away from her incoming missile as well. Last minute she regretted her decision but only out of fear that it might have hurt Hachi even a little bit.

*BANG* 

Not fast enough, the ordinance exploded with a thunderous mist of orange spew, coating Agent 3 in a large amount of orange ink who only barely avoided a direct hit. She could only see out of one eye now as the other caught ink. Hachi completely avoided the first bottle, but was now in the middle of stumbling backward as another took its spot above her. Right now she racked her head for a hint for what the correct move was going to be. Unfortunately there was simply no time to think of a plan, but her conscience brought up a fact to keep her going.

Tenta missiles pause mid air to correct its trajectory going in for the kill.

It was a flash of hope which immediately washed away into the rush, but it was enough to force the half-coated Agent 3 back into action. Barely able to keep her footing from the explosion, she forced her legs back into motion toward Hachi and attempted to activate the Splatbrella shield. If she were lucky, that would mean 2 rocket bottles in total were going to be missing their mark, 1 for the shield and 1 that was destined for Agent 3’s last position. 

*BANG*

Goes one projectile, right up against the barely opened Splatbrella canopy, causing it to violently shake in her hands, the pole of the brella slightly slides back in her hands.

*BANG* 

Another rocket explodes safely out of reach of the 2 Inkfish. Popping of bombs did little to slow Agent 3 down. More and more she could feel the difference in energy between her normal eye and her marked eye, which has still yet to be affected by the adrenaline. None of this was enough, about 6 more missiles are on their way to turn both of them into a fine orange mist. As is apparent now, the time for “fight” is over, soon “flight” will take its seat.

The final act seemed to have started, 2 more bottles readied themselves above the 2 Inkfish, hoping to make the last 4 sacrifices worth it. Agent 3 glanced back at Hachi, who was almost about to recover her balance but had yet to plan her next move in her head. Suddenly her arm started moving, independent from any command from Kaori’s body. Last second, her thoughts shouted in her head, realizing what was about to happen and trying to prevent the awkwardness that will most likely follow afterward:

No! DO NOT-

It was too late for her limbic system to halt the kinetic energy coursing through Agent 3’s left arm. Suddenly Hachi’s right hand found itself wrapped around the Inkling’s fingers, to both of their surprise, before they both made a mad dash back to the blue side of the map. Hachi made a noise of surprise that was drowned out from all the noise emitting from the missiles. Despite the orange fireworks trailing closely behind them, as the deadly droplets splattering upon their clothes, the thing that caused the biggest chill in Kaori’s back was the immediate regret that rang out through her body as she realized the motions that occurred. 

As they were running back to their base, Agent 3 scolded herself within the confines of her brain. She was dreading the awkward calm after the storm, already cringing at herself for pulling such a dramatic in front of Hachi. There is no way she is going to live it down.

The blasted bottle bomb barrage was soon nearing its end, but her self loathing caused her to falter just a bit, enough to risk one last direct hit on the two of them. Even after her moment of rigorous self-chide, her body yet again cut through the pools of mental naysaying into her inner emotions and once again loaded up its energy to act out another scene from her childhood shows. Her arm tenses up like a loaded blaster. She’s about to do it again.

In a deft but careful motion, Agent 3 turned and pulled in her left arm, whose hand was still grasping Hachi’s. In that smooth moment, an increasingly more stunned Hachi was pulled into a half-embrace with Agent 3 as she pointed toward the incoming bombs with her weapon. Her chin was now almost resting upon the Octoling’s left shoulder. Immediately all fluctuations were calmed within Kaori’s spirit as a familiar warm feeling was felt throughout her body.

The Splatbrella’s canopy opened to face danger head on, holding its own against the last 2 rockets until it finally broke with a exhausted * SNAP.*  

A small exhale exited Agent 3’s nostrils. Almost instantly, her adrenaline disappeared, and soon time was back to normal. Suddenly, stress filled her body, the kind that is used in casual settings, not for combat. In other words, the type Kaori cannot manage well, in the slightest .

The beams of light coming from the skylight seemed to be even brighter than before, or perhaps Kaori never really took the time to notice. Now the question was how long are they going to hold this position? 

The battle once again flared up somewhere on the map as the thunderous rage of the Tri-Zooka echoed through the supermarket, it sounded like it was taking place on the flank route on the opposite side of the map.

Was Hachi always taller than her? Kaori registers, now noticing that Hachi's shoulder nearly rested under her chin. Her heartbeat rose, despite her own attempts to calm herself. Now she has done it, she was fully expecting that the moment one of them pulls away, her eyes will meet Hachi’s which will be giving a look of disgust.

Slowly, Kaori braced herself and took a small step back, fearing the worst. Instead, she was met with a face that was trying its absolute best to look chill but was betrayed by her big eyes filled with insurmountable amounts of awe, all with a little flush. 

That Octoling genuinely thought that was the coolest thing Kaori did, ever . Hachi’s brain was already racing with jumbled words in an attempt to form a compliment that would somehow match how she felt. It didn’t come to her.

“Mm.”

The endearingly quiet hum-squeak was only noise that emanated from Hachi without even opening her mouth. 

For about the third time, Kaori’s brain was flipped on its head by Hachi’s emotional feedback. Without any idea of what to do now, the Kaori seized up and nervously pulled back her hand from its cozy setup and turned away before her face turned even a hint of red, an attempt to look indifferent. Hopefully Hachi wouldn't have enough time to study her reaction and translate it.

“Are-,” Kaori stammered, “I didn’t push you too hard, right?” 

Her hand was already missing the warmth it once had.

Without looking, Hachi felt the spot where she was poked with the Splatbrella with her free hand. If there was any pain, it was drowned out by the wonderment that filled her body. 

“Yes,” Hachi replied earnestly with a slightly jittery voice, hoping not to worry her.

A slight pause of relief.

“Good,” She simply stated in a slightly saddened tone.

A moment passed before Kaori started to trudge away toward the battle without saying anything else, leaving the Octoling alone. The Inkling had once again plunged itself into another pool of anguish without even realizing it. Hachi watched as Kaori slowly disappeared behind the corner, feeling the growing anguish without even seeing her face. She wants to help, badly, but simply didn't know how, and she regretted it.

In the distance, an orange Inkling watched as the 2 Inkfish slowly went back to the usual turf war business before concluding her scouting. She saw what she wanted to see.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: Blue Stompin’

Despite the eventful first half of the turf-war match, the rest of the game went pretty smoothly and generically. Well, not as smoothly for Hachi as the whole game her mind was occupied with thoughts about her mysterious challenger known as “Surume,” and also trying to figure out how to approach Kaori’s troubles. 

Unfortunately, both subjects hit a mental dead end in the maze that was Hachi’s brain. Regarding “Surume,” she was actively trying to avoid any direct battles with Hachi. Any time they made eye contact, she simply gave a random friendly gesture (none of which Hachi knew), and made them get away. Even after the game, she was nowhere to be seen, like a breath cloud in the winter. 

On the subject of Kaori’s blues, well…

“Are you sure you’re doing ok?” Hachi asked in a worried tone. Without even making eye contact, Kaori responded like a script in her usual straightforward tone, as if her mood stayed the exact same the entire battle.

“It was nothing.” 

There was definitely something , even without a look at her face Hachi could feel the dispiritment in the air. But it was a hunch after all, she could simply be wrong. Either way there was no way Kaori was going to open up at this time, it took 2 fight-to-the-deaths and a hug to get her to even start talking to Hachi in the first place. Also, pushing any further would simply just be rude, it was time to change the topic. 

Hachi and Kaori sat next to each other in the post-game Lobby on a bench up against a wall. There were a few other Inklings left over in the post-game lobby as well, every single one of them were busy doing their own things. 

It was a decently spacious, mostly gray, and plain room. Usually filled with at least 1 Inkfish at any moment as it was one of the few rooms where players after a game funnel into on the way to the exit, usually lingering for a bit to catch their breath before finally exiting the chamber. It even comes with a few long benches against the wall and a vending machine for those to really need to sit down. 

Hachi glanced up at the results screen, displaying her Splat count as 5 with a low inkscore of around 600p. For using a weapon she had absolutely no training, experience, nor practical knowledge on, she thought it was a pretty good show of progress. 

Though, she imagined that if her old instructors back in the Valley were watching, she could easily envision that they would yell at her for making some massive blunders. She was barely catching opportunities on her opponents and sometimes started wildly swinging her weapon in a panic when caught off guard in close proximity to the enemy. Several times she managed to sneak right up behind unsuspecting opponents and completely miss her critical attack as they took an unrelated tiny step to the left or right, then proceeding to get splatted right afterward. Luckily, everyone in the turf war was probably busy fighting their own battles to notice her, she thought.

The player who had the most unusual stats however was Kaori. Around 1100p, yet no splats and few splatted stats. It wasn’t a lack of being on the frontlines though, she was constantly swooping in to protect her teammates with the shield, as if she was a walking piece of cover that her comrades could count on to be there.

It was odd, Hachi always saw Kaori as an avid user of the Shooter classification of weapons, specifically the classic Splattershot, yet here she was using the Splatbrella, the very antonym of a Shooter. Though it doesn’t explain why she couldn’t get a single splat, a Splatbrella may not be a dueling weapon but it can still get a splat or two.

“What happened to your Splattershot?” Hachi inquired curiously, turning to look back at Kaori. A small pause occurred before she answered, as if she was browsing her possible response options. 

She shrugs a tiny bit, “I was bored.”

Again, something felt off about the response to Hachi, but was ignored as it was such a small thing it didn’t really matter.

Kaori glances over at Hachi’s unique weapon, gauging if it was worth speaking up to find out more about it. It vaguely reminded her of those swords in old black-and-white era Akrilla Kuroseawa films about samurai, but in those movies the swords were thin, solid, metal, with attacks that directly harmed the Inkling’s flesh. 

Though the practical effects were pretty unrealistic, it was considered one of the more graphic movies she had watched and found rather cool. But as entertaining as those movies were to Kaori, she would’ve rather watched Hachi’s use of the weapon. 

Several times Kaori had to snap herself back into reality after being enamored by Hachi’s combat, who was absolutely slaying the competition with boundless amounts of grace and elegance, she made it look like an art. 

Slowly the other Squid-kids in the post game lobby emptied out of the building until it was just Hachi and Kaori left alone on the benches as the lobby music played softly in the background. 

Hachi glanced over at the fuzzy creature napping with a subtle snore on a pillow on a bench on the opposite side of the room, the so-called “Judd,” judge of the turf war results.

Well, technically the Judd that were shown on the screens were probably just pre-recorded clips of the victory or defeat motions. Hachi only found out after noticing that it would always do the exact same movements without fail, several matches in a row. Surely a real living being, no matter how trained or disciplined, will always have some sort of variation, especially after doing it all day.

Ever since she first laid eyes on the judge, Hachi so badly wanted to feel the material that covered it, wondering what exactly it was. Was it like the bristles on a Hokusai (Octonese name for an Octobrush), or perhaps it was more akin to mold on some spoiled rice? 

It was unlike any living creature she had ever seen and yet somehow no one seemed to care. Was she just ignorant and not aware of one of the countless other species living within Inkopolis, like the Jellys? 

Either way, she couldn’t muster up the courage to even approach him (“him” being derived from overheard conversations), much less ask to lay any hands on him. She couldn’t imagine the awkwardness and the rudeness of such a request.

And so she sat there, staring at the slumbering fuzz ball, as her mind drifted to yet another topic. Suddenly, a good question sparked in her brain, if she was remembering her Inklish slang correctly it would be labeled as an “icebreaker.” 

“Oh! Three-san, is ‘Kaori’ your name?” 

The ice has been struck. Hachi turns toward Kaori once again, who has not changed her rather unique seated position. It consists of her right leg resting normally on the ground and her left leg pulled up, foot resting at the edge of the bench, and knee pointing right up to the ceiling like a spike in a graph. 

It was a rather “fresh” pose compared to Hachi’s simple and polite seated position of her hands resting on top of each other seated right on her lap. Also, her facial expression hasn’t changed either.

Hachi beamed, realizing she was getting a hint of her somewhat enigmatic friend’s real name, yet another step in their growing bond.

A very small and subtle smirk also appeared on Kaori’s mouth, reminiscing the time long ago where she regularly participated in turf wars by herself. She was fairly certain this the first time in a long while someone brought up the topic up to her.

“Yeah, it's my name. I haven't changed it in two years, before I joined Splatoon.”

She turned to give Hachi a quick reassuring smile.

“You can call me Kaori.” 

Before turning away and returning to her usual neutral posed face.

Little did Hachi know, the ice surrounding Kaori almost entirely vaporized at such a little question. It practically got thrown into a sauna. It was like Hachi’s voice was the key to opening the rusted gates that guarded Kaori’s brain-to-mouth pathway.

“So, how do you like it here in Inkopolis?” Kaori asked, still somewhat in a quiet tone.

“I hope it isn’t too difficult to get used to. The lights and sounds can be alot, even with the average person.”

She spoke with experience, even with their vastly different origins.

“It is fun and exciting,” Hachi responded with a little cheerful sigh, still weary from the recent game. 

“It is like the songs said, but also not. I never thought it would be this big. Deka.” 

Suddenly, numerous thoughts and memories that once lay dormant in Agent 3’s dusty attic of her brain awakened and scratched on the door to be let out. This was exactly how young Kaori felt when she first moved to Inkopolis 2 years ago. All that time before she moved there, she thought Inkopolis would be the last place she would ever want to move to, there was nowhere else she wanted to see more than the big city. Yet despite the almost endless activities that were at hand, a week afterward she wanted to see what else society had to offer. 

Without thinking, Kaori’s mouth moved on its own, as if it had a mind of its own, realizing this was an exceptionally rare opportunity for it to function.

“You know the tower you can see in the distance from here? That's where I used to go for matches, the lobby building is part of the tower. My apartment is close to it, I can basically see all of the square from where I live,” Kaori’s eyes looked around the room as if it was reliving the scene right in front of her.

“It's not very quiet.” 

Kaori then leaned back against the wall further and moved her left leg back to the floor. Hachi’s eyes slightly widened and leaned forward a bit, eagerly listening to the 2-for-1 deal that unexpectedly branched from her name question. No matter how mundane it might be, it's gonna be the highlight of Hachi’s day. Then Kaori continued, unrestrictive of what comes out of her lips.

“I think I was around rank A and was about to reach rank S. Though I stopped playing right before that, or maybe it just reset because this is a different location. You already know that the Splattershot is the weapon I was good at, though like I said before it is kind of boring, but it is reliable.”

Then, she pulled in her right leg and laid it on its side on the bench, the sole of her shoe resting next to her inner left leg. Much like her mouth, it was unclear if she even had control of her limbs as well. 

“I think I stopped playing after I joined, too busy doing things for the Splatoon.” Then Kaori’s eyebrows barely furrowed a tiny amount before clarifying.

“Actually, I slowly stopped doing anything else besides stuff for the Squidbeak Splatoon. I have no idea why, a lot of the work was boring, but for some reason I just didn't find it fun to do turf wars and stuff anymore, not even fashion.” 

An uncertainty bounced around in her head. Did she just happen to get all the fun she could’ve from the activities or did something about her change when she joined? Perhaps it was the familiar company of Marie and Callie that caused her to stay in proximity to them.

A moment of quiet washed over the 2 inkfish, caught right between the silent transitions of the lobby music. Even the whirring of the refrigerator inside the vending machine sounded like it quieted down for a moment.

Kaori turned for a moment to meet Hachi’s interested eyes, slightly more widened than usual, mouth slightly ajar. She found it rather cute in contrast with Hachi’s usual gracefulness. Somewhat anxious of the possibility that Hachi might read her mind, she turned her attention to Hachi’s fit to continue off her last sentence. 

“Nice clothes by the way, Annaki and Rockenberg are good. Practical and nice.” 

She decided to omit the more flowery words she thought of when thinking of how Hachi looked. Besides that, probably for the first time in a long while, she decided to let her mouth run free just a bit, the brainwave cattle ran across the field of her tongue, taking in the fresh air. 

It was refreshing to her, but also kinda draining to talk, even for such a short amount of time. It was secretly embarrassing for her. Then she wondered, when was the last time she just sat down to have a talk with either one of the Splatoon? Even after 2 years she knew a lot about them, but they didn’t know alot about her, yet were still friends enough to respect her shyness. 

An abrupt, brief, and sharp feeling stabbed at her. I’m a terrible friend. Kaori asked herself at the thought of her fellow members of the Splatoon, hidden behind her blank face. It was another thing to add to her growing lists of things she must “right.”

Hachi meanwhile laid back and marinated in the short snippet of info that was just shared with her, though to be honest she was more overjoyed from the compliment. A compliment from someone as shy and closed off like Kaori was like a super rare tier compliment, especially to this particular Octoling. 

“By the way,” Kaori remembered once she regained some energy,

“Was something happening at the left side court? I noticed you were stuck around there for a bit.”

Hachi had no idea what “left side court” meant, she reckoned it was some sort of expert pro level word? Luckily, she was able to deduce from context that Kaori was asking about her little encounter on the left side of the map before she needed to ask. Her brow furrowed out trying to piece together that odd series of events as she looked down at the worn floor.

“Um, do you remember the player named Surume on the other team?”

Kaori simply shook her head a bit at the edge of Hachi’s vision. She truly didn’t have any interest in anything besides the gameplay itself. 

On Kaori’s back, a small shiver ran millimeters down her spine. Surume was definitely a name she had never heard of before, yet esprit de corps within her thought otherwise. It was comparable to the feeling of running your hand on the walls of a dark room for a light switch, in arms reach yet invisible.

—

A medium haired Inkling in a white Emperry tank-stop is sitting on a couch inside an apartment room, conversing with someone on their phone. 

On the other end of the phone line, a white haired Inkling with a rather intricate hairstyle is dressed in a traditional Calamari County kimono, an area south of Inkopolis. This white haired Inkling sat on her knees in a wooden room with light coming from the paper screen doors. 

Adorned with banners bearing the Cuttlefish insignia, a well kept wooden cabin stood at the edge of the dry and dusty Octo Valley. 

The white haired Inkling speaks into the phone:

“Agent 8? I don’t really know much about her. If what grandpa said was true (and not his usual mad ramblings), she is an Octoling that Agent 3 fought several times, helped gramps in the Metro, bested a brainwashed Agent 3 in said Metro, and most of all stopped that giant laser from destroying Inkopolis.”

She pauses to look through at the tiny file box in front of her, also bearing the Cuttlefish logo. 

“Technically, she isn’t officially in the Squidbeak Splatoon so there is no document on her. Gramps says it's for ‘undercover’ reasons but I think he just forgot to make a document.” 

The Inkling on the other side then responds in a jesting manner.

“Are you sure he wasn’t covering for your laziness, baba ?” You could practically hear their grin on the other end.

“Shut up,” she replied while rolling her eyes, gracefully .

Carefully, the white haired Inkling closes the marked box and puts it next to a desk. The room is almost empty besides a fireplace in the middle and some disorganized gear.

“Why are you asking this now anyway?” The white haired Inkling asks.

“Oh, I think I just ran into her, along with Agent 3. They make a cute couple.”

Outside of the cabin, a third black haired Inkling in a pink hoodie takes one last gaze of the desert valley that surrounded the little abode.

Despite all that has happened here, even what she went through, somehow it all feels like home, and she will keep its memories forever as the time continues to flow into the future.

—

Immediately the cold spell dissipated into the air conditioned surroundings along with that small feeling. 

“They were . . . odd. She had clothes without a brand, a bright yellow jacket.”

Hachi frowns at another realization.

“And she wore snow boots, inside, in a mall.”

Without thinking Kaori slightly shifted her bright reflective traffic tape vest a bit, trying to think if anyone she knows does that. 

Suddenly Hachi shot forward in her seat a bit, recalling a line which she somehow completely missed while talking with her mysterious fighter. How could she have missed something like this? It was miraculous how she is able to feel other people’s emotions no matter how subtle but was obvious to something right in front of her.

Suddenly a rush of details she glossed over seemed to rushing back to her 

“AH!” She yelped, as all the memories rang throughout her head, then turned to the slightly startled Kaori to share her “discovery.”

“I just remembered! She called me ‘Eight’!”

Kaori's eyes remained as wide as before at this info but continued to stay quiet. Of all the people they could’ve run into on their first game, was it really another agent of the Squidbeak Splatoon?

“That explains it! Their weird clothes, the unusual skill set, the random friendliness.” 

Another realization hit her, making Hachi feel even more foolish, causing her to look up at the ceiling, mentally groaning. At this moment she also just realized a lot of Surume’s questions were probably alluding to the fact that she knew she was an Octoling. At least Hachi finally got the answer to the oddly specific question about accented music artists. How could she not remember them?

“Marina…” She thought out loud at the ceiling. 

Kaori silently looked up to see what Hachi was speaking too only to be met with the painfully boring ceiling that matched perfectly the usual drab decor of the lobby building. 

Assuming Callie or Marie didn’t have a sudden interest in doing solo turf-wars out of nowhere along with a sudden antisocial phase, it had to be Agent 4, the only other agent on the Squidbeak Splatoon, Kaori thought.

Hachi then asked another question in a wistful tone as she looked up at the ceiling.

“Do you know who, Kaori-san?” 

Uh oh. Despite being the official Captain of the Squidbeak Splatoon, a glorified friend group consisting of only 6 members, she has yet to actually meet Agent 4.

No excuses could form in her mind, all she had been doing the last week was either skulking around in her apartment the entire day doing nothing or tagging along with Hachi. Not exactly busy work. 

In hindsight, the fact that Agent 4 agreed to take in a random stranger into their home by someone who didn’t seem to even give a shell who they were probably means they are a saint.

She reckons that's also probably why they didn’t bother to see her after the game, because she is a horrible person. Ouch, so many blows to her confidence in less than an hour, first the title of Worst Friend , and now Worst Boss . 

Luckily for her, Hachi doesn’t actually know Kaori is technically the Captain, she certainly doesn’t look the part, so she can at least minimize the awkwardness. 

“I’m not sure, but I think it might have been Agent 4. Agent 1 and 2 usually travel together and are pretty chatty, so it's probably not them,” Kaori pauses in hesitation before continuing.

“I haven't actually met Agent 4 before, so I wouldn’t know if their name is Surume.” 

A silent twist of the knife.

“Hmmm, when am I leaving again?” Hachi asks, now turning her head back down to the rest of the room. 

The answer came to Kaori like a charger shot: 

“Tomorrow.” 

“Ehhh? Hayai ne. This week was fast.”

Hachi turns to Kaori with a smile right out of an anime. This time Kaori was able to fight off the rush of blood going to her face, truly the make of a veteran of emotional combat. 

Actually, there was one last thing that Hachi still couldn’t figure out, even with the knowledge of Agent 4. What was the deal with her mentions of music? Was that just them mishearing things? Then she had the genius idea to stare at Kaori and see if new music came forth again as Surume instructed. 

As Kaori continued to gaze off into the wide open room, Hachi turned her head and just started staring right at her in an attempt to see if music would start playing in her head, just like before. At first she didn’t realize what was happening, only continuing to stare off at nothing in particular, but slowly The Stare altered the air between them like some sort of microwave generator. It felt like a high intensity laser was being pointed right at her face

She needed to focus harder , tune out the lobby music, dull out anything at the edges of her vision, slow down her breathing. Hopefully she would be done with her observation before Kaori notices. Already she seems to be sensing something just out of her field of vision but is continuing to stare forward to look cool. 

MORE focus. Hachi felt her pupils shrinking as if she were simply minimizing a computer window. Small details on the left side of Kaori’s face were now surfacing, like the complete lack of any details to begin with. Her skin was surprisingly smooth and clear for her profession. There was no music to be heard, not even the lobby music, it almost felt like the room itself had been paralyzed.

Disappointing, there was something else to the music besides just looking at someone. She's just going to have to pull back and try to find something within her memories. Maybe perhaps something related with Surume herself, did she do something that triggered some sort of neurological phenomenon?

In any case it was time for Hachi to pull back, she is fairly certain Kaori noticed her stare but chose to stay quiet so it wouldn’t get embarrassing.

“...”

Is what she would have done, but her body wasn’t having it. Not only that, but the stare has slowly morphed into a glare without any input from Hachi, to become The Stare.

—

A ghost from her past has come to haunt her once again. Long ago, as a growing wee small lassie, subject number 10,008 was reprimanded for “glaring” at her superiors and fellow comrades. 

“⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ nitōhei! ” (“Private!”)

A drill instructor shouts at her as he notices her staring at his rather unique hairstyle. Bald, yet with 2 “wings” of hair shooting straight upward at the sky, as if thunder froze as it struck his rounded top.

“ Mondai wa arimasu kaa?” (“Is there an issue?”)

The tone was venomous, slightly drawing out the last syllable, as if challenging her to comment on his hair. Any lower rank would know to pick their next few words carefully with this instructor.

“Īe, rikusō. Gomen’nasai, nidoto okoranai.” 

(“No, sergeant. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”)

She responded with meaning, giving an apologetic bow alongside these words.

Unfortunately for the subject 10,008, it was something she simply had no control over. She has absolutely no idea where she picked up this habit from. In fact she thinks there is a good chance she was born with it, glaring through the test tube glass at the unsuspecting scientists on the other side. Maybe it was a mutation in her genes, something that would’ve helped with intimidation in life-or-death scenarios in an older age. 

And no, rarely is she even aware she is bearing the expression. 98% of the time, she didn’t even realize she was staring in the first place. She found it rather embarrassing and not something she wanted to explain. Only a few occasions did people actually believe it to be unintentional. 

Anytime anything was even mildly interesting to her, she couldn’t help but just stare . Eventually, if it lasted more than a few seconds, that stare would morph into a rather intense glare. A glare so fierce that even older, bigger, and higher ranking Octarians would be forced into a composure check. 

It was especially ironic as subject number 10,007 was also abnormally empathetic for the average Octoling, perhaps as a being of the world. So The Stare is occasionally at odds with her, to her dismay.

One time when she was even younger, number 10,007 accidentally made another classmate she found rather cute and “interesting” to burst into tears after trying to give her a reassuring look from across the room. She was waiting for a decent while for both of their eyes to meet, but when they did, it was too late. Her friendly expression had already contorted into The Stare.

She did eventually apologize profusely and became friends with the classmate, after 1 night of silently tearing up in bed at unbearable guilt that weighed over the young Octoling at the time. 

Now it was back in full force and somehow even stronger than before, freezing the wielder as well. It was as if it got stronger the more time it had in between appearances. Honestly, it was surprising she managed to get this far into Inkopolis without doing it once, or perhaps she already has? 

Suddenly, a flood of moments where she could have displayed The Stare floated up in her mind pool, most worryingly when she was with Kaori and Surume, but now was not the time for that. Hachi needed to focus on the situation at hand, at this very moment.

—

Hachi tried moving the other parts of her body in an effort to manually twist her head in another direction like a car mirror, but even her body was unable to receive orders. Was there some sort of nerve signal trade sanction being imposed on her by an ally of The Stare? 

This is getting bad. Neurologically speaking, she keeps pressing buttons and nothing is happening. The tip of her pointy fingers barely twitch as she tries every command input she could think of to snap out of its snare. Kaori was beginning to fidget a bit.

*Yabai, yabai*! Hachi panicked internally, praying for Kaori to not turn her head toward her.

Of all the people for this to happen around, Kaori was absolutely the LAST name on that list. Now the terror sets in, she needs to get out of this as soon as possible. Her mind races as her brain starts mashing controls mentally, desperate to perhaps sneak something past the mental blockade, while also at the same time “calculating” how much time she had left (5 seconds).

Then something snaps inside of her, a nerve ending, a thought, and then:

* TSH *

For less than a second, Hachi turned herself into her swim form, activated the siphon used for super jumping, immediately canceling it, then reverting back to her walking form, all at once. What proceeded was a rather surprised Kaori seeing an equally stunned Hachi send herself forward off the seat, as if a spirit shoved her from within the walls behind them. 

She tried stopping herself with her legs but momentum had to run its course, it was gonna take a few stumbles before the train comes to a stop. 

The wheels of fate then decided at this moment to try and turn her simple awkward moment into an incoming disaster. A door slid open to Hachi’s right, several Inklings who just finished their game started to pour out, their predicted trajectory perpendicular to Hachi’s projected path. Every single one was completely unaware of the danger that was about to befall them, most of them were too busy arguing amongst each other. 

“No, no, no, no, that's not what the rules say! You can’t just step on him just because you have no ink!” One shouted.

Another responded, “Chill out, dude, I didn’t step on them that hard. I just held them in place so they couldn’t leave before I got my ink back.”

They weren't even facing her. The chances they would hear her warning and react in time was almost non-existent with their bickering. All she could do was attempt to try and minimize the wreckage. Mentally, she prepared 

After a few more staggered attempts to slow herself with her own legs, she found herself less than a meter away from the closest Inkling. A memory flashed within her mind and muscles, it was time for her instincts to take over

“I’m NOT about to be banned-”

*fwosh*

“-because of your stupid ideas!”

By pushing off one of the tip of her right foot toward her left, Hachi was able to do a sort of “combat pirouette” clockwise around the first Inkling on her left leg, about 120° around her oblivious noncombatant. Now she was facing away from the Inkling she just narrowly avoided, who happened to blink at this exact moment and was still unaware of her existence.

But watch out, a 2nd Inkling was now walking into her right side, yet again right on her new path. They too were conveniently facing away from the on coming peril. Hachi reached out with her left arm-

“It's not like- woah !”

And lightly pushed off the Inkling’s left shoulder while also repeating the odd combination of actions that led her to this moment. Briefly shifting into swimming mode for less than half a second and activating the siphon that temporarily formed on her back and using that slight boost to give her some more kinetic energy.

This allowed her to chain into another pirouette that caused her to spin around the 2nd Inkling’s back. All her associate felt was a push pithy enough for them to put forward their left leg to support the sudden pressure.

“Tch!” The 2nd Inkling turns angrily to their conversation partner, mistakenly guessing that they shoved them.

“Why’d you do that!” 

“Watch your own step, idiot. I didn’t do anything, you’re the one who wants to get penalized for contact.”

One last obstacle stood in Hachi’s way before safety: An Inkling not even a part of the argument behind her. They were facing her this time, but still inattentive as they were looking down at their phone. She was too disoriented from the first 2 dodges so doing a 3rd was not gonna happen. 

Her brain flickered for a moment, trying to think of something. Then another muscle memory kicked in, one recalled from the gauntlet from her training.

As she was right about to collide into the distracted Inkling, she hopped as high as she could and vaulted over them by using her left arm on their right shoulder to guide her across, even turning around mid air to reface forward.

—

It was as if she was back in her childhood, hopping across a field of barricades, one of the many challenges in the Octarian army’s obstacle course. A rigorous and tiresome training regime no matter the rank in the army.

“ Ike Ike!” (Go! Go!) Her instructors shouted, aggressively motioning toward the other end of the trial, observing all the trainees as they dashed across the inkless time trial.

—

Hachi was just fast enough and deft enough to not put her entire body weight downward for more than half a second, before landing right behind the surprised Inkling and coming to a full stop. 

“Just, don’t do that again. I swear to cod if I lost my S rank because of your actions, I will personally pour glue into all your weapons.”

Both Inklings pause their grumbling one of them notices the now very confused phone Inkling scrutinizing the area in front of them, trying to see who just pushed them.

“What are you lookin’ at?” One accosted rudely.

The phone Inkling simply shot them an annoyed look and walked away, resuming their activity.

It's as if she was river water harmlessly running over and between a deadly field of stones. Hachi stood there facing the wall for a moment, at first all thoughts were void in the bubble around her. Her synapses flash and her eyes widen, and suddenly her senses are overwhelmed with content.

A single Octonese word escaped her mouth in a sort of shouted-whisper:

“ Hirameta!” (“That’s fresh!”) 

—

It was as if the world around her blacked out like a kabuki stage, a vision played in front of her in almost complete black and white. 

She sees Inkling, with a similar haircut to Surume, with Duelies. The pink on their hair is the only color visible in her daydream. 

As if Hachi was spectating the middle of a duel, she sees a Inkling girl roll around the empty space, dodging and weaving around the ink projectiles attempting to turn her into colored rain.

The smallest of mistakes, counter attacking too early, picking the wrong direction, even if she failed to move one centimeter, it would spell the end for her. Yet she navigates around the danger perfectly, gas cylinders hissing as if she were wielding water snakes in her bare hands, bearing a grin that would belong to a carefree dancer. Every pause displayed a new pose, taunting the unseen shooter.

A confident feeling filled Hachi viewing this, she can do this, cooler, flashier, with elegance. 

Then it slowly faded out the Inkling and replaced it with Hachi herself wielding her Splatana. Her hair now has a very subtle aura of a light blue.

Still in motion, the combat rolls provided by the pressurized air via to the Duelies morphed into the “combat pirouettes” she just exhibited, but in an even more refined motion. Smoothly, she flowed away from the cones of attack, sometimes even going through the field of droplets to juke the aim. 

Though for some reason she had the urge to refer to the act as “ Suigetsu No Hakobi ” (“Moving the Moon's Reflection in the Water”) from now on, just to give it an interesting name. 

Her arms flowed around her like her hair, yet still disciplined and close enough for her to use the Splatana in her hands if she were to unleash an attack if need be.

She could faintly hear a faint gusts of air, reminiscent of the wind rushing through her ears when she launches herself through the air with a super jump.

Now more dodges were presented, this time taking motions from her first encounter with the mysterious Splatana owner. Each weave and last minute near miss seemed to give fuel to her, most likely from the adrenaline shooting through her body, allowing her to keep up with the flurry of ink shots.

The more she watched, the more she felt this was less of a fight and more of choreographed fight in a play, spinning just around the ink droplets as if she were guiding the attacker’s aim.

Every act complete with lots of decorative dynamics and gestures, it wouldn’t be found in a war, but would be perfect for the carefree combat that was contained in the city center of Inkopolis. 

Hopefully Kaori would be mesmerized with these moves if she ever sees her utilizing them in a real scuffle. It would give Hachi something to impress her with. 

Lastly, it ended with Hachi dashing toward the featureless shooter and vaulting over them like nothing. Unlike before however, the moment Hachi got behind her mark she unleashed a wicked slash from the Splatana using the spinning motion right before she landed.

The leaping motion’s name will be “ Issokutobi ” (“With One Bound”) and the follow up attack will be “ Nagiha” ( “Calm Blade” ) . She had no idea where these names were coming from, but she rolled with it. It just felt right, the names that befit a tricker's arsenal.

And with a graceful pose-

—

-the vision ends, and Hachi finds herself back in the post game room, yet again void of anyone but Kaori, still sitting on her bench. She didn’t even pause to see her reaction before Hachi pulled out her phone in her pocket and started typing down a poem in the notes app, the only other thing that came to her after her narrow collisions.

Strangely enough, it was about the imaginary Inking she conjured up in her head, not the new style of fight she just made up. As fast and controlled as she could, she typed out:

“With tresses pink and eyes a blank,

A smile so faint, it hides your feint,

You slip on past—outfoxed! Outflanked!”

After correcting a few spelling errors from her exitement, she decided to add one last flourish: With a conveniently matching little virtual sticker of a pink haired Inkling with Duelies pasted right underneath the poem, with the bold yellow letters “OMW” floating above them. She had no absolutely idea what that meant.

Was this idea based on Surume or just some Inkling character she just made up? It didn’t really seem to matter to Hachi as the question slipped her mind completely for the eager girl, it was time for her to experiment on this revelation she just had.

With a slow and steady walk, Hachi made her way back to the bench where Kaori continued to stay seated. Deep in thought, her face was. Theory crafting courses through her head with that trademark look of “mouth slightly agape from curiosity.” 

To Kaori, all she could tell was that this was a sign that Hachi was doing fine after that rather atypical event. Part of her still wondered if it was some sort of panic attack. Actually, maybe she herself was in shock?

Hachi then sat down and made eye contact with the half-worried Kaori, then attempted to say something. She opened her mouth but no words came out as Kaori slightly raised her eyebrows in anticipation. There was simply too much to say, it was impossible for her to pick one subject. It would be like trying to catch a fish swimming downstream with your bare hands. 

After a few more attempts, she simply sighed with a chuckle, then real and functional words were made, and they formed a question.

“Hehe, um, I am going to the training area. I want to try some things out, do you want to go with me?” 

Hachi was unusually sheepish about this, even for someone as shy as her. 

Oh, did Kaori so badly want to go with her, it was actually painful for her to not go along with her. Every moment with Hachi exponentially made her quality of life better for some reason. Even just a small question about something innocuous gave her more life than turf war ever did. It was truly a mystery as to why though.

Unfortunately, though, this was not something she should have, it was undeserving to her. Besides, it was that time of day, she had something else she needed to do, something more personal. 

She has had too much enjoyment this week and even so it has only been allowed to watch over Hachi. There was no reason to stick around anymore really, Hachi was a very capable person, this was just really just an excuse for her to leave her obligations, isn’t it?

“No, I’m sorry, I have work to do for the Squidbeak Splatoon.” 

Just like before, Hachi could feel the subtle change in energy as Kaori uttered these words, a sort of downcast. Her face was much better composed this time though, as if she planned her actions specifically to conceal her emotions as much as possible from the sensitive Hachi. 

It was just subtle enough that it just barely slipped by the rather empathetic Hachi, who was still partly distracted by her thoughts.

“Ok!” Hachi replied with a small burst of cheerful energy. It was her way of communicating: I wish you could stick around longer, but I understand I can’t keep you forever.

Soon after they packed up and walked out of the room into the entrance room of the lobby building. As Kaori pushed open the door to the outside world, she took a second to adjust to the sudden increase in stimuli to all 5 of her senses, taking a few extra moments for her right eye.

Right before she fully stepped out, she gave one last glance at Hachi who stood there with arms down in front of her with the Splatana in hand. A beam of life hit her originating from the visible smile that Hachi gave her, along with an animated wave of goodbye. 

As she walked out, Kaori gave a very loose, one handed wave and one small, swift smirk, not fully confident in if she wanted Hachi to notice it. 

In a second, she was back onto the familiar to the concrete eels of the city, sounds and lights now imposed themselves at full power. Somehow she could tell from the activity it was afternoon. She started walking toward her next destination, a place filled with tenderness and regret. Her poncho fluttered in the slight breeze as lyrics drifted from the big screen into Kaori’s ear.

♬ “I look at you all, see the love there that's sleeping

While my guitar gently weeps…” ♬

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: good squid, mAsui

♬ “I look at the floor, and I see it needs sweeping

Still my guitar gently weeps.” ♬

Unusually, Kaori didn’t feel like listening to music on her way to her destination, instead opting to just bask in the natural yet synthetic surroundings that formed around her 5 senses. After a few steps the music quickly faded away, leaving her to meander across the concrete carpet that was Inkopolis square. White stripes and markings were garnished across the floor as if it were stitches of a now healed wound. 

It felt like she only blinked and she already found herself outside of the square, automatically treading familiar ground without any thought. Less and less the public filled the streets the farther she strayed away from the square, until it almost felt like she was all alone. It was like a small strip of gray tranquility all to herself. 

Gales blows in between the false mountains, causing her poncho to flutter in the air unrestrained. A small dust cloud lingers behind her, both obstructing yet emboldening her silhouette. Compared to the square, these streets were thinner, with a complete lack of anything “extra.” No bikes left out, nearly a complete lack of life, no cheap tables left out for diners. Just nothing.

Despite the regular visits of this rather uncluttered trail, it was still difficult for Kaori to tell whenever something had changed. Even a newly opened recreational storefront with Octonese letters looked as if it has been there forever, a sign that reads as if it's been read over a hundred times already by Kaori.

“As for Inkopolis, a rainstorm seems to be on track for the city in a few days, lightning and all!”

A TV blares from inside a very small and slim bar, only audible from the slightly ajar door. Kaori unconsciously focused her ears to the audio as it took up the empty air.

“ Remember: if you hear lightning, get inside. If there is a power outage, switch all appliances off and use those generators!”

Looking to the sky, Kaori could only spot the usual beryl blue with the occasional blank spots of white coming from the clouds. Her right eye could be felt straining a little yet there was no sun in sight, thanks to being in the shadows of the colossus. Farther away the TV’s sound waves traveled as she continued to stroll onward.

The wind around her swirled, causing her garb to float through the air as if she were underwater. Another shiver took hold of her body as she graced another look around the nearly empty street, noticing how close the stone towers were now. Had she gone insane or did it feel as if they were drawn to her, planning to lay her to rest amidst the sea of concrete?

Her spine stood still once again. Perhaps it was part of her atonement, to remind her of the world she supposedly “saved,” at the cost of another.

Was this city destined to be her final resting place? Is this where she will be left, to be absorbed into the very pavement that she stood upon, alone and unremembered?

~~~

Soon enough, Kaori had exited the small yet oddly oppressive street and arrived at her destination. Despite visiting before, she positioned herself right in front of the building, gazing up at the rather underwhelming and vanilla building, as if she was scouting the place out.

The area where a storefront sign would’ve laid was left blank, the outline of its once bolted in logo read in a cornerless font: WHIRLING⬤In⬤RAYS.

The only thing that notified anyone outside of any life inside, besides the very obvious Jelly manning the frontdesk, was a simple sheet of paper with text printed upon it in the most basic font imaginable taped to the window:

“Octarian Outreach Centre.

Are you a newly arrived Octarian in need of shelter, food, clothes, general information?

If you or someone you know is an Octarian looking for help about how to get started in Inkopolis, send them here!

Come in anyway if you want to learn Octarian culture and see what you can do to help your fellow Inkfish!”

On the bottom half of the paper, several sentences are printed in 2 different languages: Octonese and Jelli, presumably repeating the previous text. Though rather informative, the paper was excluding one big detail about this building.

Good thing this building is fairly close to her apartment. This would be her second time going inside. After a moment of visual marination, eventually she took a slightly deeper breath through her nose and walked through the door.

Quietly yet efficiently, a Jellyfish flips through and organizes a bunch of papers and files behind a rather out of place wooden dining table. The text on the documents were mostly in Inklish text yet were essentially unreadable to Kaori as the rather wordy words blurred together as the Jellyfish moved every document to their rightful spot.

Behind the Jellyfish, Kaori watched as a fair skinned Octoling with a magenta afro sat at a couch facing a few other Octolings, presumably those who were seeking assistance. He held up some papers and seemed to patiently explaining something bureaucratic to his audience. They were too far away for her to hear anything.

On the far right corner of the room, there was a simple push glass door. Assumedly this is where they shelter those seeking help without homes. 99% percent of Kaori felt no interest in seeking what is behind that unassuming door, yet 1% was curious to see the living conditions.

As she glanced back at the frontdesk Jellyfish, who has now recognized Kaori as a returning patient. After a small nod, they directed a lappet toward an elevator directly to Kaori’s left, a familiar motion that was repeated from the first time she visited this place. To the left of the elevator was a barely lit, rather compact staircase leading up the same floor the elevator is destined for.

Then, as her neurons create to the right synapses, Kaori suddenly remembered right under her ragged poncho is the exact same hero gear she used in her rather contrite campaign to contra the zapfish caper.

She wanted to leave to go back home and change, but the Jellyfish already noticed her and Kaori didn’t want it to be awkward if she took her leave just to return in another set of clothes. 

All she could do was take off her RGB light headset and hide her visually loud vest by pulling her poncho closer to her body with her hands in an attempt to wrap it around her as much as possible. Kaori reached behind her head for her headset, grabbed it by the headband, and paused for less than a second. 

Rarely is she materialistic, but this felt like ripping a chunk of her own brain out. Unflinchingly, she pulled off her colorful headset and set it on the table, to the confusion of the Jellyfish, before marching on over into the elevator and pressing the button for floor 2. Nothing about her revealed the true nature of this moral damage she suffered from this simple act.

As the door closed, she was left alone in a recognizable gray chamber, the slightly dimmed light audibly whirring. There were no inspection certificates or any other text displayed anywhere besides the numbers on the 2 buttons.

If she were tasked to find a location to shoot a horror movie or tv show, she would’ve noted this specific elevator as the most unnerving room in Inkopolis. It felt like the world outside just ceased existence for 8 seconds. Perhaps this is her tomb. 

After about 20 seconds of this oppressive environment, the door to the infernal box opened unceremoniously. Kaori’s eyes started recalling its visit from a week ago and comparing it to the room as the cold, chemically cleaned air pressed through into the alcove.

Right in the center segment of the room was a coffee table placed right underneath a slightly wider than average window with a random assortment of chairs positioned around it, all with their backs facing toward her: A bean bag, a steel folding chair, and a rather simple yet comfortable looking office chair. 

Unlike the last time she was here, a single Octoling with a ponytail, with the same magenta color as the Octoling downstairs, sat in the folding chair scrolling on their phone with their legs kicked up on the table. On top of the table there seemed to be a bluebeak speaker playing music.

♬ “[...] got war and peace inside my DNA

I got power, poison, pain and joy inside my DNA

I got hustle though, ambition, flow inside my DNA…” ♬

A small shot of pleasure tingled in Kaori’s brain, she knew this song, it was somewhere in her 800 long playlist. From an artist named K-Dec (short for Kerma). These lyrics took on a very different texture with the knowledge of the ridden past of the Inkfish people. Imagine, prickles tickle a small part of the back of her neck, another Inkling followed Craig on that day, would they too bear the same weights that pull on her psyche? 

~~~

A Inkling boy with blue hair tied up in a knot cheerfully chats with an Octoling boy as a Jellyfish behind a desk manages some paperwork.

With a magenta one-tentical mohawk, his heart is warmed by a gift given to him by the Inkling, a bag containing 4 premade bentos from a convenience store.

After a small chat, the Octoling giggles a bit before both finally say and wave goodbye and starts walking up a thin flight of stairs, ignoring the creepy elevator positioned directly to its right.

As the Inkling turns to the frontdesk to leave, he glances at a very fresh light up headset on the desk. It was like something gifted straight from the heavens with its lights. 

“Who’s headsets are these?” He asks the Octoling just before he disappeared into the darkness above.

After a long look at the curious headwear, they definitely suck out to both of them.

“I don’t know,” he simply responded.

The Inkling so badly wanted to put them on, but it would be rude to do it without the owner’s permission. Plus, he could feel the gaze of the Jellyfish behind the desk watching him, even as they worked tirelessly on the papers.

After one last lingering gaze, he gently pushes the door to the outside open. 

—

The ponytailed Octoling was moving their head to the beat of the song.

Kaori glanced at the legs on the table. Sable stilettos, solid steel soles, symbols of an Octarian soldier. The same exact footwear Agent 8-

No, Hachi donned in her original fit. 

Once the metal doors finished separating for a second, she stepped out, silently welcoming a smell that would usually be slightly nauseating. Before she could look around any further, another Octoling appeared on her left from the stairs leading to the first floor, his head absent of any hair besides one tentacle running straight down the middle. 

He wore a slightly shiny black, slightly crop-top like shirt with only the right arm wielding a long sleeve which had a zipper running right down it, slightly on the left side of the chest.

The pants were for certain made of the same shiny black material and had even less features about it. Honestly, in her opinion, it looked like it would be rather uncomfortable to wear.

Finally, his boots were basically the exact same materials and structuring of the heels she just saw earlier, the same metal soles, only this time without as much elevation under the heels.

It just occurred to her that Kaori has never seen the “male” uniforms, only the one worn by Hachi and the female-only fighters she’d met on the battlefield. She had to give Octavio’s army credit, they looked very nice, but was it really the right thing to wear for fighters? Perhaps, this is the style everyone wears in the Valley regardless of being in the army or not? 

She clutched her stitches rags closer to her body.

“Ah, youkoso. Are you looking for Fuguast-doctor ? ” He politely asked with a slight bow, their curiosity on display through their amber eyes were obviously slightly widened. 

In his hands are what seems to be a bunch of premade meals in a convenience store bag, 4 in total. There are a few drinks on top: Fin-ta orange soda, Lipspot brand green tea, a carton of (oat) milk, and a glass bottle of Starpuffer coffee.

This is a complete stranger to Kaori, but she got the feeling this was someone she could trust. His kindness and candor reminds her much of another Octoling she knows, in fact he was even doing the same “mouth slightly open” thing that this person does when she wants to know more of what she is looking at.

There was an Octonese accent to their Inklish and he accidentally put “doctor” after saying the name, forgetting to switch off Octonese structuring while speaking Inklish. He was putting his best effort to keep his words clear.

She couldn’t really describe the exact nature of the accent, but most notably his Ls sometimes have more of an R sound. Clearly Octavio was assigning some language lessons a part of the training regimen for the Octarian military. 

Kaori just nodded, not even entertaining the thought of talking to people she just now met. Fugasuto was the only person’s name she knew who worked at this place. To her knowledge, he is the only doctor specializing in sanitation in Inkopolis.

Octoling gestures with his hand to a desk with 2 office chairs on the closest opposite corner of where he stood, to the right of Kaori. He was inviting her to sit down and wait for the doc.

“He is out right now but he will be back soon.” He replied with a friendly smile, before placing the coffee on the table then walking toward the Octoling using their phone. Briefly, they turned their head to Kaori, only one magenta colored eye visible from this angle, amidst the backdrop of a similarly brown tone to Agent 8, before turning back to their phone. 

“ Eehh, Nan on'na wa「Masui」iru no?” [“Huh, Why is she up in Masui?”], she casually inquires to the approaching Octoling boy, before he sets down his bag on the table.

He then carefully sat on the beanbag with upright posture, hands on top of each other on his lap. He was treating this cheap bean bag as if it were some high class antique furniture in the presence of royalty.

“Wakaranai , Tabun wa keisatsu ka?” [“I don’t know. Maybe the police?”], he guessed, reaching over for the green tea. 

“Sore no boro-fuku? Baka shinai so,” [“With those rags? Don’t be dumb,”] chuckling a bit, before noticing the package in front of her and picking off the Finta soda.

Kaori had no idea why she was focusing on the conversation so much, she couldn’t understand a single word being spoken. Realizing the futility, she decided to turn her attention to the sides of the room. 

Along each wall was about 3 hospital beds each, the tops of which all closest toward the wall. Upon each bed were greenish skinned Octolings with blueish hair in medical gowns.

Victims of the sanitization process in the Deep Sea Metro. A complete obliteration of all free will, emotions, and ambitions. A tragedy on an unknown scale.

They all laid peacefully in their beds with their heads raised up a slight angle, hooked up to machines, staring idly into nothing. Despite lack of knowledge on medical equipment, she knew that every graph was supposed to be displaying any signs of life: body temperature, pulse rate, respiration rate, and blood pressure. There was one extra machine as well, one with suction cups stuck to each patient’s head, most likely measuring brainwaves.

Not a single graph seemed to project a single number other than a silent zero. Agent 3, or rather the Captain, is all too familiar with the green fluid. Even as a past visitor, the grim sight caused her to feel chilly underneath her several layers of clothes. Kaori’s brain recalled a quote from a game she played, fitting for the situation:

Though unpleasant in the extreme, this work is noble... and necessary. 

Finally, Dr. Fuguast emerged from the stairwell. He had the most stereotypical doctor’s outfit imaginable: round lens glasses, a red tie upon a green shirt, a white coat with a black + on the right sleeve, and olive drab trousers.

Well, it was worth mentioning he wasn’t an inkfish, but of the fugu species. Bald head, a small circular mouth, and thin lips. The skin on the “scalp” was white while the rest of the head was a sort of silvery green color with spots.

“Ah, I see it's you again,” noted the doctor before sitting down in the seat opposite of Kaori.

“Let’s just get right to it then,” he took out a sheet of formatted paper from his coat, 

“Any sudden pains from your head since your last check up?”

Her head shakes with little energy.

“Any sudden pains from your right eye since last check up?”

A mild shake.

“Any sudden blindness in your right eye?”

A vigorous shake.

Behind the doctor, the afro donning Octoling emerged from the stairs and made their way to the gathering on the other side of the room in between all the bedridden patients. There was only about a small glance from him before forwarding his eyes once again to his co-workers.

“Any moments where your eyesight became unfocused outside of your control?”

An affirmative shake. 

“Any moments of being dazed or dizzy, nausea, etcetera?”

A confident shake.

The doc took a pause while looking at their paper before asking one last question.

“Any moments where it feels like you are seeing visions of any sort? Like, perhaps, you’re seeing someone else’s memories?” He questioned in a slightly more menacing tone.

This was an oddly specific and somewhat frightening question. She pondered bringing up those random shivers and chills she gets sometimes, but that mostly seemed just to be a quality of herself. Besides, he specifically asked for visions, and those were definitely not happening to her.

One final and solid shake.

The doctor then rolls his chair forward and looks right at Kaori’s right eye, then shines a light directly into it with a flashlight he seemed to pull out of nowhere. The glare from the light hid his eye underneath the white lens. He writes one last thing on the paper before putting it in a drawer. 

“Congratulations! There seems to be no lasting damage from your head from the sanitation! Since last visit, the mark on your face seems to have faded away and all that really remains is a slightly sluggishness to dilate your eye, which is nothing really to write home about.”

Kaori’s face didn’t react to this information. A very small and irrational part of her was a bit disappointed she wouldn’t have a cool scar that would make her look cool, though she wouldn’t be certain if Hachi would find it cool or see it as a reminder of more grim times.

“Ah, but don’t be disappointed, this is a very notable discovery. We now have tested confirmation that sanitation can be reversed in some way.”

He glanced over the patients in the beds. 

“Now, we just need to see how to apply it to everyone else.”

A moment of silence passed, before Fuguast turned back to Kaori.

“Now, let me guess, are you about to ask if there is any work to do?”

Indeed, she was considering mumbling that very question. Since the last visit, she has been calling everyday since then to see if there is any volunteer to be had. She couldn’t sit idly in her abode, wasting away with the knowledge of the lingering horrors of the deep sea still latching to the undeserving.

“Well, as you might have noticed already, we did get some new helpers here. Though, despite that, I think we still want to have you on board.

Kaori took another look at the small gathering at the middle lane of the room.

“ Oysha ,” the afro’d one went as he sat down on the office chair mentally exhausted,

“Apparently every single Octoling in Inkopolis only wants to know how to do taxes.” 

Without another beat, he reaches over and swipes the milk and a bento, then he shoots a question out of nowhere at the ponytailed girl. 

“Oi, Naomi-chan, what's fuku [clothes] in Inklish?”

“Eh? Naze da??” Clearly caught off guard by the sudden pop quiz.

“In Inklish.”

“Man, f*** you. Thinkin’ I don’t know my words?” She responded with a irritated tone before continuing,

“Here, I’ll give you some right now: b****, f*****, s***-” 

Naomi started listing off rather sharp swears before getting cut off abruptly by the other Octoling.

“ Aho ga ! I told you that garbage you listen to is not a good source of learning Inklish, you don’t even know how to order food at a restaurant!”

At this point, both parties have stood up and pushed the chairs out of the way with one of their legs. Kaori and Fuguast watched without emotion as the situation continued to heat up. The one with a mohawk watched with a surprisingly unbothered face.

“Oh yeah? Why would I care if I can just look it up on my cellie? A computer is better at this than you ever will, Natsu,” She shoots back with a smug look on her face.

It was obvious she was trying to look unaffected by the arguments made, but it was clear she was getting more and more annoyed.

“*Cellie*? You mean a smartphone? I’m spending my valuable time teaching you how to speak another language, but what’s the point if you’re just going to overwrite it with these stupid words?!” 

Natsu was trying very hard to restrain himself from using the same swears Naomi just listed off earlier. This left a slight opening for her to shoot back with her own retort. 

“You listen well,” She starts pointing a finger from her left hand at Natsu, who was brimming with rage,

“For 4 years, you get splattered while I get the splats in training AND turf-war. Korewa guntaidattara, ore wa ō ni naru dayo, kono yaro! ”  

[If this was the military, I would be KING by now!]

Natsu fiercely grabbed her pointing hand with his own left hand, causing Naomi to grimace. Both arms shook from him trying squeezing as hard as he could. 

“There are no kings in the army. If we were still in the Valley, you would be held back for 10 years for your awful Inklish, making me your superior. Do you understand? ” He hissed in her face as she was trying its best to hide the pain.

Agent 3 stood up and started to walk toward the group. Luckily the mohawk Octoling got the right idea and stood up to try and defuse the situation.

Gently he put his hands on both of their arms, but before he could even get a word out, Natsu immediately deflected his attempts at peace.

“Nana, we’re doing this the old fashioned way, ryū ga gotoku [like dragons] . ”

“Mhm,” Naomi agreed through the pain.

Despite the determination between the 2 Octolings, this small gesture seemed to be helping the situation a bit, as it seemed Natsu’s grip loosened a bit.

“Yamete kudasai, kore wa hazukashī desuyo!”  

[Please stop this, this is embarrassing!], he quietly pleaded with the 2, but this only seemed to make them even more determined to do whatever they were about to do.

Both smirked and looked over at Fuguast and Kaori.

“I guess this will be a short demonstration of how we do it up in the Valley then!” Natsu announced to the 2 spectators. 

“ Sō !” [Yeah!] Naomi added, unable to think of something cooler in her head.

Off to the left out of their field of view, Nana shook his head with an exasperated look on his face, silently indicating that this, in fact, *wasn’t* how they “do it up in the Valley.” 

Then the 2 Octolings turned toward each other as Nana remained stuck to their arms. Naomi then broke free of Natsu’s grip before placing her hand back within it, this time palm to palm.

Kaori’s burrows frowned a bit deeper, she had no idea what prompted this guess, but she had the feeling that they were about to do something rash despite the rather fragile being surrounding them. 

“ Hm,” Naomi produced a sound of gusto as they held their grip.

“ Huaaa ,” Natsu breathed outward from his core, a sudden show of control amidst his rage.

For about 5 seconds, silence passed. Even the beeping from the machinery and the gust from the air conditioning units seemed to be muted. Everyone focused on these 2, down to their stare offs. Then, both parties unleashed a fierce, full powered straight punch to each other’s faces at the same exact time, one arm narrowly avoiding Nana’s face. 

“ TUHN!” Grunted Natsu, seemingly putting all his fury in the punch.

“Ora!” Half-bellowed Naomi, who didn’t seem to care as much.

The collision of their fists to each other’s faces was just barely prevented as a right arm extended between the 2 squabblers and tanked both punches. 

* THUN*

Naomi’s fist collided with the inside of the upper arm while Natsu’s knuckles burrowed on the outside of the forearm. 

Kaori’s eyebrows momentarily formed a scowl as she flinched, her hands visibly “cringed” as her fingers clawed up from the pain. So did Nana, minus the scowl, both from the sudden arm thrust directed near his face and from getting a good view of the impacts.

“ Nani? ” Both Octolings said in unison, before Agent 3 retracted her arm quickly, causing both of them to be slightly thrown off balance. She pulled back her arm and hid it behind the cloak, gripping it from the inside.

“Tch, look at this one, a real tough guy,” Natsu sneered with a hint of admiration, “perfect for mAsui, ne, Naomi-kyodai?” 

Kaori continued to not react in the slightest. Naomi looked at Natsu then to the one who took their blows with a slight look of discontent. She really wanted to land a punch on Natsu and wasn't satisfied with how it went down.

Nana then took his chance to end this rather pointless fight. He gently put his hands on both Octoling shoulders before talking in a rather kind manner.

“Can we just stop this now?” He then turned to face the other Octoling, “Even our guests are exhausted from this. Not to mention all these poor souls around you.”

Now these 2 were quiet. Then, Natsu spoke up:

“Yeah, you know what? Naomi, we’re settling this on Grouper Gear, get your stuff, we're going to the arcade.” 

“Oh, you know my Sol Squidguy game is nasty, I will wipe you off the map,” Naomi commented as she pocketed her phone and started walking toward the exit with Natsu, seemingly already not caring about the fact he almost punched her. 

All watched as Naomi and Natsu made their way to the thin stairway to the right of the elevator.  It felt like even the patients were somehow giving all attention to them, despite them never moving. The 2 gave Kaori one last glance before disappearing down the stairs.

Once the clopping of the metal soled boots and heels faded into the stairwell, Nana immediately started picking up the pushed aside chairs and brought them back to their original places. 

To answer her curiosity about why Dr. Fuguast wanted to “hire” her despite having 3 other volunteers, this was why. If that was the half of the workforce, this operation would’ve broken down within a month from the amount of broken equipment that would’ve needed to be replaced. 

“I am very sorry about that,” Nana apologized profusely as he rolled the office chair back to its place at the table, “Usually they are not like this.” 

Kaori helped out how little she could by retrieving the folding chair and placing it roughly where it used to be. After she placed it down, she was invited to take a seat by Nana.

He was seemingly the same age as the 2 other Octolings, yet the way he acted was more of a disappointed mom that was forced to send 2 children to their rooms.

“That was a bit unruly, even for them,” the doctor shook his head in disapproval before standing up and making his way toward the little resting area in between the lanes of beds.

The doctor was surprisingly freakishly tall, about 280 cm, yet he had a rather thin build. If he had the ambitions to be a basketball player, it wouldn’t take long for him to get picked for a team.

As Nana rolled the office chair back to its rightful position before taking a seat. Soon after, the doctor sat down in the beanbag, yet was still seated taller than Nana.

“So, as you can guess, those 2 can’t exactly be trusted with delicate procedures,” Dr. Fuguast explained with a hint of pity in his voice, “They want to help, but I don’t think they properly realized how utilize their fighting spirit in an environment like this.”

“They are, um, kyodai , like brothers, so please do not think they hate each other,” Nana informed Kaori, “I think they were testing you, they only argue most of the time.”

What a stupid test , Kaori thought to herself. The doctor continued his explanation:

“Anyway, you can see why I wanted to take you in despite our numbers. We don’t have work for you today, but let's say, a day or two from now we do have an assignment we want you to do. It’s very simple, let me explain.” 

~~~

By the time they were done explaining what the upcoming task was, the risks of handling sanitation, and a few demonstrations on how to do some basic tasks for taking care of some of the patients, night was already setting on Inkopolis.

As Kaori grabbed her headset and headed out the door, the full display of life of Inkopolis filled the streets. Back when the Inkopolis plaza wasn’t under reconstruction, the life the splatfests provided to the city was once thought to be the most active Kaori had ever seen Inkopolis been.

Yet now, the streets in front of her seemed to be equally if not more populated than she remembered. Because of the Octarian migration or the displacement of Inkopolis plaza residence? Perhaps the recent economic boom caused by both of these factors attracted more out of towners, but most likely all of these factors mixed together.

All around her it seemed to be pure action. New stores seemed to be popping up left and right, older stores raked in unseen profits. People these past weeks seemed to always have even more cash on them than usual. Kaori watched as people down the street waved a wad of cash around in the air at passing taxis to try and hail them. 

The soundwaves of every sound imaginable seemed to be emanating from the lane of towers. Some speakers blared ads for an establishment, others simply blasted a radio station. Some sounds leaked from the insides of buildings. Layered upon those was the chatter of the people on the streets.

Some laughed with their friends as they staggered around slightly drunk, some were people hired specifically to advertise their services by calling on passers on the street. To her left, she watched as a most likely drunk group of fresh college graduates Inklings attempted to catcall a passing sea anemone, who paid them no attention.

After a moment of taking in all the surroundings, she inhaled a deep breath of that oddly nostalgic city air. The soul of the city . She exhaled. She donned her headset and let it autoplay a radio station as she started to make her way back to her apartment. 

“-and thats all of the news we have for now, good evening and goodnight to you beautiful people in Inkadia! It's your DJ and host, Judgement Kazzy! Now we’ll finish off with a new song called Bubble by a rising Octarian band: Shonan no Kaze!”

♬ “WOAH-OH-OH! WOAH-OH-OH!” ♬

Just from the start of the song, Kaori felt the chills creeping up on her. Now was the time for her to feel in tune with the city. She wants to be part of it like she once did years ago.

Chapter Text

♬ ”WOAH-OH-OH!” ♬

Amidst the swarming streets, almost in a trance, a long haired Inkling disappears between the populous. 

♬ ”WOAH-OH-OH!” ♬

All around her, the bright lights from signs strewn across the sides of the street blur the area above the streets. 

♬ “WOAH-OH-OH!” ♬

Even in the dead of night, the clouds reflect a blinding light down toward Inkopolis, bathing its inhabitants in illustrious splendor. 

♬ ”WOAH-OH-OH!” ♬

The gleaming dome of the bubble, the haze of the city lights. 

♬ “Ba-ba-bubble, ba-ba-bubble. ” ♬

As the youth of the city drift off into a slumber, the world as they know it undergoes a drastic transformation.

♬ “Bubble, bubble, ba-ba-bubble. ” ♬

It lies just beyond the confines of the square, hidden behind a veil of ignorance.

♬ “Ba-ba-bu.” ♬

♬ “Panpī yarō ga Saturday Night,” ♬

Schools of fish flow through the street, some occasionally swimming into the doors of the nightclubs that dot this district. 

♬ “Ranbada odotchatte dasakunai?” ♬

Liquor, dancing, and species of all kinds churn within, spitting out those inebriated beyond belief, left to wander the streets until day emerges. 

♬ “Hito ni kobin no mo suki ja nai,” ♬

A gang of takozones stroll roguishly down the middle of the street in an arrowhead formation in full Octarian military uniform, purposely imposing their presense to those on the street. 

♬ “Ore wa kono machi shikiru gurentai.” ♬

With a single wicked red dot emanating from their black visors, the one at the front bore 2 green kelp ribbons atop their pitch black hair, causing anyone who glanced at them to move out of their way in slight fear.

♬ “Gokumi ni nita gokujō no GAL,”

Within a privately rented nightclub, nearly absent from any customers, a rather eccentric shelled shopkeeper with large goggles, presents a black .52 Gal. 

♬ “Disuko no VIP de wa bera kasu.” ♬

As a suited snapper scans the shooter, it is speckled with white dots. Without saying anything else, they suddenly present a cash filled suitcase bearing a red and white logo.

♬ “Muragaru geinōjin-tachi no yokogao,” ♬

With bags in hand, a bunch of 6 classy women of varying species shop their way through a street tailored made for mass spending. Money flows through the veins of the city like winding streams down a mountainside.

♬ “O satsutaba de hippataku.” ♬

The one with black hair grew giddy with excitement as her white haired companion grew increasingly more tired by the shopping spree they have been at for a few minutes.

♬ “Bodikon o nameru Dandy,” ♬

Alone in a clothes store, a blue and purple Jellyfish sketches some new outfits he had spotted on the streets, notes containing drawings of metal plates attached to a black crop top.

♬ “Shanpan no amefuru ban ni.

“Sekai wa marude Candy,”

“Amai mitsu no aji!” ♬

As she leaves the Deca Tower building, an Octoling girl exhausted from playing and training almost all day, takes a moment to rest on a nearby edge to rest and to take in the scenery. 

♬ ”(WOAH-OH-OH!) Kabukitachimon no party night.” ♬

It's as if the square threw itself into the future as the sudden influx of adults replaced the once teen population in just a few hours. 

♬ ”(WOAH-OH-OH!) Kudaranee imeeji to Taishouteki na show wa-

(WOAH-OH-OH!) Haguruma kurutta kono jidai.

(WOAH-OH-OH!) Heisei yosou koto naku Ride on!” ♬

She stares into the bustling streets, still can’t help but wonder if this entire week is just one big dream that she will one day wake up from. 

♬ ”Maiyo-maiyo-maiyo-maiyo Wasshoi!” ♬

Crossing through the heart of the city, the fish of the stone ocean flooded the streets and partied as if the waters would once again reclaim them in the next hour.

♬ “Mata taimai hataite sawaide ha,” ♬

Again, rustling about with wads of cash,

An Inkling, unwilling to focus on anything else, casted her judging eyes on the people surrounding her. An expensive looking sports car slowly beeped its way through the crowds, the lone golden tuna separated from its school. 

♬ “Aji mo wakarazu Yoi ni makaseta” ♬

Getting far too drunk to comprehend the taste.

It's like the city’s self control declined into the dumpster in just a few hours, as lone drunkards bumbled around into random people, some even arguing with each other.

♬ “Chidoriashi no haikara wa dare mo ga kisotta No.1” ♬

Staggering around the square where everyone competes for number 1.

As if the crowds of people weren't enough, street criers and speakers shouted endlessly from the edges of the river, fishing for a weighty catch.

♬ “Kane de kaeru no sa ai demo nan de mo,” ♬

‘Money can buy you love, or anything at all,’

♬ “Gehin na warai koe ga katsute no ‘soboku na boku’ no” ♬

I can hear the crude laughter of my once naive self,

♬ “Oku no oku wo “Dou suru no?” to nokku suru” ♬

Knocking on the back of my mind, and asking me “What will you do?”

♬ “Kono mama de ii no ka?” ♬

Is it really fine to stay this way?

Her heartbeats slightly quicken, secretly hoping to run into a familiar companion. Swiftly, she shut those thoughts down, unable to comprehend her own will.

♬ “Bukubuku to futotta yokubou ga” ♬

With all these bubbling, growing desires,

♬ “massugu na kokoro hinmageru” ♬

That distorts even the honest hearts.

♬ “Shikushiku naiteru tinkaaberu” ♬

♬ “Ano hi yume mita no wa,” ♬

And in the dream I saw that day,

♬ “Kousou biru kara mioroshita,” ♬

I was looking down from a skyscraper.

♬ “Konna keishiki nanka ja nai,” ♬

That scenery was so different,

♬ “Kedo omoidasenai.” ♬

Though I don’t remember much.

♬ “Keiki wa amakute Danger,” ♬

In a small empty lot, lost in the stone forest, a rather rough hired takozone kicks a big headed business fish down onto the ground, and lands a fierce straight punch straight to their head. 

♬ “Muragaru aritachi ni wa Delicious.” ♬

As the salaryman groans from the percussive stunning, she digs a rather filled leather pouch from their coat. A wicked grin grew on her face, the fun wasn’t over just yet. Despite its rather thick fillings, it has yet to satisfy the sharks that have them on their hook.

♬ “Haikara ga sekai seiha, kane de katta heiwa!” ♬

♬ ”(WOAH-OH-OH!)” ♬

♬ ”Kabukitachimon no party night.” ♬

Outside of their apartment, trying to kill their boredom, a shortie Inkling with short hair walks aimlessly, generally aiming for the edges of the city, where the forest of the north laid bare.

♬ “(WOAH-OH-OH!)” ♬

♬ “Kudaranee imeeji to Taishouteki na show wa-” ♬

Despite its flashy rays, she had already felt bored about what it had to offer. No amount of singing and drinking by themselves will give her the enjoyment they seek.

♬ “(WOAH-OH-OH!)” ♬

♬ “Haguruma kurutta kono jidai.” ♬

Though, the one thing that always treats her is to simply drift with the flow, let themselves be carried by waves. Just be a black sea.

♬ “(WOAH-OH-OH!)” ♬ 

♬ “Heisei yosou koto naku Ride on!” ♬

The mess that the city produces on the streets are infinitely more interesting to watch. Occasionally, she even messes with them to get a kick, always varying how they interact to keep herself and their new found “audience” entertained.

♬ “Maiyo-maiyo-maiyo-maiyo Wasshoi!” ♬

♬ “Moyakashi no yoru,” ♬

Atop a 4 story building, a cloaked Inkfish sits in a white plastic chair in the darkness of night, observing the urban biodome that lay bare before him alone. A stack of flyers sit at the edge of the building, before being blown away from the wind currents flowing across the night sky.

♬ “Yoku ga shitataru.” ♬

Papers occasionally fall out of the sky, right into the eyes of the homecoming youths. Soon it starts spreading beyond the papers themselves, beyond the usual combatants you would meet in the official Inkwars. A mechanism clicks into place on a carbon roller as its wielder checks the integrity. 

♬ “Furete wa naranu,” ♬

How she yearns for what lies beyond the glass pane, yet she held no memories about its existence. A red eye of black visor peeks out from behind its red and blue strand of hair, head lifted in order to get an unobstructed from her gray and white cap. 

♬ “Akuma no kajitsu.” ♬

As the abyss stares back toward the world, unaware of the inhabitants of the building, he turns his eyes toward an unassuming building in the distance. Despite his ignorance, he couldn’t help but to have a feeling of sickening uneasiness in his plastic chair.

♬ “Awa ni mamireta.” ♬

She made her way back to her apartment with her weapon in hand like an umbrella, enjoying the music she so faintly hears in the background. A folktale back at her birthplace once spoke about the koi swimming upstream to become something greater. Foam festered amidst the waterfalls roaring down stream.

♬ “Utakata no yume.” ♬

Deep within the whirlpool, yet she felt more detached than ever. The multi-colored poncho felt as if it disappeared as she neared the end of her journey for the day. This was just a dream to her, something that she would drift away from memory in the following morning, another passing day.

♬ “Hajikete mieta,” ♬

As she waits for the crosslight to change, they turn their eyes to the overbearing tower plastered with televisions screens, with a voltaic god wrapped around it like prey. Each screen frantically exposing their viewers to a product of some kind. They push up their orange glasses, right now, only one stands out to her, despite its usually bland nature.

“Breaking news, Governor Ryo Ayuki has announced plans to rebuild the famous Hammerhead Bridge.”

♬ “Jidai doko e?” ♬

Just where will this era go?

♬ “Mada korekara sa orera no Party,” ♬

Even getting lost in the circuits of the city felt like pure happiness to her. She wanted to just keep walking endlessly till the night was over. Music played into her ear, without even listening to any.

♬ “Kesshite darenimo mane dekinai!” ♬

Her first week flew far beyond her fantasies when she first discovered there was a whole other world beyond the spring valley walls. It felt like she could live here for the rest of her life.

♬ “Ikizama de do hade ni Dancing,” ♬

Even as young as they were, she couldn’t imagine *not* spending a single moment of their lifetime in this bubble bath of activities. No activity will be left untried, they only have one life and she is going to squeeze out every last drop of it.

♬ “Kōkai dake wa shitakunai!” ♬

At some point the world will change once again, yet that only shoots her ambitions further and further beyond. The fun will never end, not if she has anything to say about it. She’s gonna have the greatest cod-damn story she could possibly experience. 

♬ “Michinakimichi o kiri hiraki,” ♬

It almost pained him to see the dream in front of him. Down there, he knew his people were the best they could ever be, void of all institutionalized conflicts. If only he was around to experience it, his will.

♬ “Ore dake no kotae kono-te ni.” ♬

All that remained was to secure the future of this view. It’s the way it is, is it not? The reasoning is simple, yet he didn’t feel just ready for that task yet, the action of taking a life wasn’t as simple. But, for now, he must work to get what is rightfully his back. Without it, he felt almost powerless.

♬ “Ryū ga gotoku yozora o mai,” ♬

There it stood, even at home, she is reminded of what she originally fought for. A large animal wrapped around the beacon of Inkopolis, sparking against the dark blue sky. For a while after she completed her campaign, it looked rather majestic at this time of day, it's as if it was descending from the heavens themselves.

♬ “Hokori o kake sakebe mirai ni-” ♬

It annoyed her how different she was now, unable to be moved by a scene no longer. It was if everything in her life lost its charge, all she could do now was drift along like a piece of seaweed. She wanted to experience it once again, to wager her pride once more and shout to the future:

♬ “WASSHOI!!” ♬

♬ ”(WOAH-OH-OH!)” ♬

♬ ”Kabukitachimon no party night.” ♬

It’s the kabukimono’s party night.

♬ ”(WOAH-OH-OH!)” ♬

♬ ”Kudaranee imeeji to Taishouteki na show wa-” ♬

Couldn’t care less for the image, contrasting shows, and-

♬ ”(WOAH-OH-OH!)” ♬

♬ ”Haguruma kurutta kono jidai.” ♬

It’s like the era has gone completely off the rails.

♬ ”(WOAH-OH-OH!) Heisei yosou koto naku Ride on!” ♬

No air of serene and so it continues to ride on!

♬ ”Maiyo-maiyo-maiyo-maiyo WASSHOI! (WOAH-OH-OH!)” ♬

By complete chance, she ended up exactly where she needed to go. Maybe she was finally getting used to living in the city. For a moment she simply stood outside the entrance to the building her living space is contained in, simply watching the passersby with a smile. Her whole being wanted to cry right there and now.

♬ ”Maiyo-maiyo-maiyo-maiyo WASSHOI! (WOAH-OH-OH!)” ♬

As they arrive at her metal apartment door, she takes a moment to bring herself to the opening on the stairwell. They take one last excited breath in from the night city air, giving her a metaphorical high along with a manic grin, before making her way back through their apartment door and closing it without a second thought.

♬ ”Maiyo-maiyo-maiyo-maiyo WASSHOI! (WOAH-OH-OH!)” ♬

One last reminiscent gaze into the blinding lights, she let go of her hand on the door. Its weight creaked it back towards its place, soon silence will accompany her in her messy apartment, where loneliness always welcomes her back.

♬ ”(WOAH-OH-OH!)” ♬

*SLAM*

Chapter Text

Chapter 11: Green Green

It wasn’t even 07:00 yet and already Hachi’s chances of having a rather normal day has dropped to near zero. Today was moving day along with a meet up with Marina and Pearl sometime in the afternoon, but as usual she woke up at around 5:58, giving her much more time than she knew what to do with.

After packing up what little she had and cleaning up what little there was, she started to really utilize her phone to wander around on the internet, the 2nd new realm Hachi had yet to explore. Today, she learned about how to make an email after spending a lot of time trying to consider what email website she should use (it took her about 20 minutes of researching before realizing there was no real difference besides what brand it would be).

Today she was wearing her classic Octarian outfit as she couldn’t handle the icky-ness of wearing 1 day old clothes, even though she so badly wanted to show them off to Marina and Pearl. Next to the door, a dark blue duffle bag adorned with golden tree branches spread throughout its fabric, containing her 1 other set of clothes, her little journal, and the one poem book she bought. Sat loosely on top of the bag was the Splatana she had been withholding from that mysterious “samurai” type she had met 2 days ago. 

As she tried to think of a password to use for her email, a card slipped through the cracks of the apartment door, the noise as it hit the ground made Hachi jump quite a bit. Luckily, no one was around to see how badly it scared her. Carefully, she walked over to the rather long, vertical card. On one side: what seems to be a letter written in Octonese vertically, a rather traditional way.

Written in what seems to be a permanent black marker, it simply reads:

挑

戦

が

あ

な

た

を

待

っ

て

い

ま

す。

[A challenge awaits you.]

On the back of the letter was written in the same way, except this time it was just one word: most likely the location.

イ

カ

ッ

チ

ャ 。

[The Shoal.]

Her mind sorta just blanked for a second or 2 after reading it, then 3 thoughts shot though her brain:

First: This was clearly from that ronin/samurai guy she met the other night.

Second: How the shell did he find out where Hachi was living?

Third: Why did he not just knock on her door? 

As much as she thought about it, there wasn’t much that was gonna reveal itself if she just stayed there. Especially because there was no meet up time, so does this mean he wants her to come right now? She would rather not miss out on this opportunity to return the Splatana. What if she missed it? Would he even realize she moved places and wouldn’t be able to find her again? 

Slowly, it dawned on her how much she regretted the decision to keep the weapon as a sort of small punishment. She just felt like a fussy child that did not give a toy back out of pettiness. Even if he was a bit rough in how he tried to get it back, it was still his in the end. It wouldn’t feel too good separating what seemed to be something important relating to his family just because of something foolish.

Carefully, she put the card in the bag and put on her black heels. The only thing she can do now is to be there and be square, whatever that weird saying ment, Hachi thought. How does one be a square?

~~~

The Shoal was a very strange place to Hachi, it was full of color and other gaming machines, and supposedly this was where you could host private ink battle lobbies. As Hachi walked in, the Jelly manning the front desk seemed to recognize her and motioned for her to wait towards a seat on the wall left of the desk.

Across from her a group of young Jellys group up around a single machine-cabinet looking thing, one at the helm of the machine watches intently at the screen and pressing the buttons rather quickly and noisily in response to something. Lime lights brightly covered the already similarly colored walls and floor, trying to be the most green ever to green.

Hachi has been subject to much bigger and louder assaults on the eyes and ears, yet for some reason this overwhelmingly green and pink was starting to get to her. This space gave the impression that Hachi shouldn’t be sitting still at all. At first she tried waiting there patiently as she twirled a piece of hair around with her finger, but soon after she started shifting her legs around to try and sit comfortably. Nothing she did made anything feel right. 

The Octoling put in their earphones to try and block out the environment, but all it did was irritate them everytime any amount of sound from within the chamber was audible through the music. A random noise from the machines, the slamming of buttons from the Jellys, the shuffling of papers from the front desk. Right now, all they could think about was escaping.

Before they knew it, the Octoling picked up her bag and made their way out the door to wait outside, away from that mess of a room. Of all the times someone could have walked through that door however, an Inkling did. An Inkling sporting glasses with 2 crosses for lens.

“Yo-” They started before they quickly bumped around her.

“ Suman,” the Octoling quickly apologized as they pushed past, defaulting to Octonese without thinking.

Once she found herself out in the streets, she took a while to just stand there and relax. The streets were just enough noise to keep Hachi relaxed but not absurdly noisy and obnoxious akin to that awful lobby. Just the right amount of light without it feeling as if her eyes were being stabbed with frozen ink-icles. Slowly, Hachi’s breathing steadied, completely unaware it had quickend in the first place.

Once she took a moment to compose herself, she realized who just rudely ignored on the way out. Hachi turned her head and was met with a familiar face watching with their head tilted to the side a bit.

“Oh, sorry!” Hachi apologized once again with a slight bow, “Ah- uh.” 

“Hey, no worries,” Surume reassured Hachi as she attempted to figure out what to say next, “I get it, sometimes you need some fresh, tire-particle filled air.”

All Hachi could do was nod and smile awkwardly in response.

~~~

The 2 Inkfish stood outside The Shoal, waiting to the left of its doors. To the right of the doors was another cabinet-machine with what seemed to be a pad with arrows on it. Fortunately no one was using it, so it paid no bother to Hachi. After about a minute of silence, Hachi finally built up the courage to ask what was floating around in her mind.

“Are you, Agent 4?” She asked hesitantly, still somewhat looking at the floor.

Surume, wearing the same exact get up last time they met, simply turned her head to look at Hachi with a neutral look, before it shifted into another smile. They raised both their hands up before confirming.

“Ya got me,” She validated, her grin was actually excited about the fact Hachi figured it out, “I am indeed Agent 4 of the Squidbeak Splatoon.”

What was she-

“And before you need to ask, this-” Surume unfolded a piece of paper from her jacket pocket and showed it to Hachi, tapping the paper with her finger, “is why I’m here.” 

It was a rather plain piece of paper, just black text with no boldening or anything. It's plain Inklish text simply read this: 

The Shoal.

June 22, 2018.

Special battle being hosted. Test your true skills. Usual Ink Battle rules need not apply. Bring your own gear, including modded and/or custom works. Participants will be paid. More details to those who show up.

The text didn’t even register in Hachi’s brain, all she could think about was the waste of paper for such a simple boring print. Why not have some colored text? What about those faces you can make with the typing board, the “emoticons” Hachi heard about, why not use those? Sadly, Hachi would not be able to take in the info at her own pace, as she started hearing a bunch of shoe steps coming her way. 

The 2 Agents looked toward the source of the incoming footsteps. A decently big crowd of Inkfished were walking right toward The Shoal from the left of the street. Some onlookers noticed the crowd and watched in curiosity, a pair of school girls leaned in and whispered to each other while hiding their mouths with their hands. 

Right there, at the front of the crowd, was the ronin/samurai Octoling guy Hachi had been looking for, same slick backed pale hair and in the same exact outfit she last saw him in. What a coincidence!

About 14 Inkfish followed behind, not including the 4 other Inklings at the front that also caught her eye. Both wore bright white coats, one with their hair swept to the side with a look on their face that screamed “superiority,” and the other with a more relaxed but aware expression with a swept back hairstyle with a loose strand hanging in front of their face.

“I see you accepted the challenge,” The ronin spoke, completely void of any fatigue unlike last time, “I trust you have kept the blade safe.”

Hachi nodded as she drew the Splatana from the bag and attempted to hand it over to the Octoling. He refused to take it however, his brow slightly twitching in response, disgusted at the very notion. 

“I will take it from you once I eviscerate you in rightful combat, for now hold on to it while you can.” 

Eviscerate? That's not a word Hachi knew, but judging from the context, it probably just ment “defeat” or something similar. That is interesting vocabulary and all, but Hachi really just wants to return the weapon and-

Oh, nevermind, he’s talking again.

“You and your partner will be facing all these warriors in combat. Full contact, custom and modded weapons allowed. Every Inkfish that splats you gets a cash reward. Your only limit is a time limit. To win, you need to reach the “leaders” and defeat them in a duel. Do you agree to these terms?” 

It seems the Octoling has no intention of just taking the Splatana and going home, which is what Hachi wanted to do. But she really did not want to ruin whatever he had planned, so she sorta just nodded along with it? It felt like it would be a bit rude to everyone who showed up if she didn’t play along.

“Only these 4 Inkfish here will form a lone squad,” He motioned toward the 2 whitecoat Inklings who stood the tallest, backed by the last duo of whitecoat Inklings, “These 2 are the leaders of the division: Emperor and Prince of the Emperor Clan. They are some of the top players in this region and should prove to be a difficult challenge.”

His hands returned to his sides as he continued to list off the ruleset. Division? Like in math? That's another word she will need to add to her list.

“End their lives once and the match ends. Their lieutenants, N-Pacer and Squidkid Jr. do not count, but do not underestimate them. The rest are unaffiliated with each other.”

Hmm, she added clan and lieutenants to that long line of words to look up by loosely spelling them into the phone, but even with her ignorance both those words felt a lot *bigger* than how it was being used right now. Also, what does her fighting against this team have to do with ‘eviscerating her in rightful combat?’ 

There were so many questions flying around in her brain all while none of them dared to leave her mouth in fear of messing up in any capacity.

One of the leaders, Emperor most likely, with a rather signature look of superiority scoffed and shook their head, not thinking of either as an actual challenge. Not one other person here looked as if they would have the gall to proclaim themselves as a monarch besides this prick.

The other one however had no such buckets of pride flooding out of him and was rather cute to Hachi, simply giving a weak smile with a small wave to her before going back to a look of shyness with a sprinkle of reluctance. The name Prince was probably just given to him unwillingly only to fit the ruler theme, evident from the lack of 2 other royal titles ( unless they were? ).

“Hehe, those are some funny little pet names,” Surume teased as pulled off her glasses. The Whitecoats’s eyes all turned to her, some piercing gazes clearly more hateful than the others, with a loving smirk welcoming the hostilities. 

“Did they run out of keychains to pick your names out at the mall?” She turned to the Octoling host, clearly annoyed at her rudely interrupting their monologue, “I’m guessing they call you ‘L'Oreel’ with all that gel crowed upon your noggin.”

The Octoling turned and gave Surume a razor sharp evil eye before turning back to Hachi with an even sharper look, further increasing her cluelessness regarding the abrupt rudeness.

“Veligero,” he stated with as much venom as a box jellyfish, “Remember that name as I cut you down.”

Hachi’s eyebrows lowered just a tiny bit. She had idea why this was directed at *her*, Surume was the one being disapprovingly rude. 

Surume started to open her mouth for another comment only to be intercepted by Veligero to regain control of the conversation.

“What happened to your other partner? I don’t wish to interact with this extraneous annoyance.”

Kaori-san ? Hachi thought to herself, wondering why she would be part of this. Not that she would mind if she was here, she would not admit it outloud but she really would prefer Kaori’s super calm and observant behavior over Surume’s sudden shift into bad-mannered comments, she bets she could talk things out with this Veligero in an understanding manner for her.

Hachi could picture it in her head already: the 3 of them sitting at an outdoor seat with hot drinks in dark, strong silhouetted clothes. Kaori coolly explains to the hot headed and irrational Veligero about how her good friend simply wanted to return what was his as Hachi whispered in her ear about what she wanted to say, knowing Kaori would never mind her somewhat poor Inklish and properly speak it out for her. Then after he left completely convinced by her words, Kaori would bring Hachi along and show her all the sights of Inkopolis coast with her street knowledge, and-

“Oh, her? I’m a knight sent in her stead,” Surume responded, laying a hand on the Glooga pistols in her holsters, “These are my sword and shield.” 

Veligero completely ignored the comment, seemingly no longer having any patience and wanted to end this conversation as soon as possible. It did not help that he noticed the nearby Hachi’s eyes were starting to blank out. 

“Now then, are you just going to stand there?” 

~~~

As Hachi and Surume stood on their magenta colored respawn pad on their end of Manta Maria awaiting the start of the gauntlet, Hachi stared at the ground and silently cursed herself for letting her shyness get the better of her. A 2 vs 18? What was she thinking? She’s willing to try new things, but this just feels like it's going to go one way: a calamari roller-style steamroll. Hopefully it would not take too long and she will still have time to meet up with Marina and Pearl.

“Hey, you think they're running the standard Ink Battle playlist?” A magenta haired Surume pondered as she stared off toward the other end of the ship, hands resting on their hips. 

Hachi, who was crouched down, knees together, with Splatana in hand, looked up at Surume with a slightly dejected look, unable to answer her question. The boat’s bones creaked in the water as it swayed left to right in a dance with the coastal waves. Her eyes slightly strained as it faced the clear blue sky, unfortunately neither of the Inkfish had any sunscreen applied.

“Ohoho, if it's complete silence, then this might not be as one sided as originally thought,” Surume chuckled as they unzipped their yellow jacket which was previously showing a more masculine silhouette, now revealing a sports bra underneath along with a bare stomach. Hachi focused on keeping eye contact and keeping her adolescent instincts incheck. 

The wind ruffled the loose jacket as the sunlight gleamed off the orange lenses, cloaking her eyes from outside view. As she was to the left of Hachi, she had the luck of having the coastal view of the city as her backdrop, making a rather neat scene for Hachi.

Surume then turned to face Hachi like a professor about to lecture their students.

“Did you know that music played during normal battles is there for a balance reason? First of all, it's to put everyone on the same level of auditory noise, but it also drowns out any catchy music from poppin' up in the player's heads.”

Hachi simply blinked and stared as Surume then starts pacing around in a circle as she continues to explain what seems to be their "plan" for victory.

“You know, a friend of mine told me this story about this old man, he was kidnapped and held hostage as a prisoner. And as his rescuers attempted to find him, they blasted a song that his granddaughters sang in an attempt to keep up morale, but it led him to suddenly gain the strength to rip through his binds with his bare arms, like the music carried steroids and protein powder along with its tunes. Not just some ol’ rope cuffs mind you, I mean a full body cowboy-style hogtie.”

Surume then stopped, slightly nodding their head while it faced toward the sky, seeming as if it was making sure if she was recalling the story correctly. 

“I looked it up, and it wasn't the music that gave him strength, no no, that muscle was already contained within the geezer, but it allowed him to override his body’s self-imposed limits as he listened to the melody.”

She then tapped on her head, with a slight spinning motion with her finger, reeling the tape that was their brain back together.

“Remember how I told you to try to listen to that melody last time we met? The brain will try to recall or even create new music to match the flow of the current situation, without you even noticing, like swimming with the current. Classical music for sniping, jazz for chilling in a safe environment, even songs that fit the personality of whoever you’re fighting with."

Slowly, Surume turned her head to look at Hachi with her iconic grin.

“Of course, anyone can have an earworm, but for it to give any notable effects you really need to be deep in good ol' fight-or-flight. Adrenaline, panic, ink-lust, even intoxication. Think of it as your brain's automatic moral booster.” 

Hachi listened carefully, but still could not get her head wrapped around the idea. Is listening to music going to help them somehow? She didn’t bring her headset with her to battle. If anything, the headset would just get in the way, always needing to be fixed if it slides off her head.

“Point is, once we get into the flow of battle, get the blood pumping, the ink running, we might have more fight in us than you think,” Surume summarized, then once again resting her hands the Gloogas in their holsters, “Besides, we're Squidbeak agents! We know how to fail a level or two."

A speaker then starts up, with Veligero’s rather slightly annoyed tone coming through it. 

“ The battle will commence in 1 minute. Prepare yourselves.”

“I’ll explain it more when this is done if you want, but as long as we actually try, we have a chance! Just remember the rules ol’ slickback told us about and realize we will probably not win, but we can certainly humiliate them in the process.”

A slight bit of air exhaled out of Hachi’s nostrils. Looking on the bright side, every loss is an opportunity to learn after all. That's what her instructors told her anyway, but knowing that fighting while outnumbered is unfavorable seemed to be a lesson she doesn’t need first hand experience in.

“ The battle will commence in 5, 4-”

Surume drew her Gloogas in a smooth, spinning fashion out of the leather cups with little sound beside the sound of the air flying away the wheels. It made it look more than just mere ink shooters. 

“ 3,2-”

Hachi silently sighed as she stood up and hesitantly readied the Splatana in a new stance. That practice session was only yesterday, hopefully it would be easy to recall what her moves were. A deep breath drew inward, the salty mist of the ocean lowering her heart rate just a tiny bit. 

“ 1, 0.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 12: “A crazy party”

It barely took them seconds before running into their first few combatants. Right as Hachi dropped down the pit leading out of spawn, an Inkling hugging the wall in a tiny pool of green swung a carbon roller right down into her head, crushing and splatting her in a spray of green ink. As her soul floated up toward the great beyond (the respawn point), she watched as the bowlcut, Squidlife Headset wearing, Inkling intensely shook their fist by themselves in celebration.

Hachi isn’t the type to hold grudges, but it would be a lie to say she was not looking forward to splatting them back.

As she spawned back in, Surume was nowhere in sight with no ink anywhere. Hachi has no idea where they could have gone to, they basically vaporized into thin air. It sorta annoyed her to be honest, causing her to pour a small bit, but perhaps they were planning something.

She looked down into the pit, the whole floor now coated in a green ink after cashing in its initial ambush.

Hachi, unfortunate trained planner that she is, could not just walk on by as their assailant haunted their base. It risked a flank from the sharker if she were to get into another battle. Forcing a 1v1 would actually be her best bet in the situation as she has less distance to travel if she is splatted, unlike her opponent who will need to make their way back.

Hachi reached for a torpedo to seek out the sharks, but before she could even make contact with them, Surume once again appeared from behind her without warning nor sound. 

This time it wasn’t the sudden appearance that caused Hachi to do a double take. Surume completely changed her way of speaking to presumably someone more masculine. Someone with a bit more energy, playfulness, and confidence than their usual Robbie Craymond voice, but unfortunately Hachi had no names come to mind. 

It reminded her of one of those kabuki actors doing a quick change using a special costume to instantly become another character on stage. Especially because their rather odd glasses too were missing from their face, hopefully just in their jacket pocket. Wait, their Glooga pistols are also back in their holsters. Why take them out if they are just gonna put them back?

“What the shell is this?” They exclaimed as they motioned their arms wide toward the pit, “A surprise party in our own house?”

A pause happened as Hachi tried to decide what to do first: Ask what happened to their voice and appearance, scold them for just vanishing into thin air and seemingly trying to scare Hachi again, or why their Gloogas are back in their holsters.

Surume rested their hand on their hips, “Alright, alright, I get you. Hey, my knight in shining spandex,” their head turned to meet Hachi who subtly turned her head 2 centimeters trying to make heads or tales of what is exactly happening, “Do me a favor and sit this one out for a moment.”  

Without awaiting a response, Surume stepped back and ran toward the pit. Forms flashed for about half a second, then they performed a sort of high leap using the siphon jump to launch their combat form up into the pit, leaving Hachi on the high ground by herself.

Predicted Trajectory: Towards the middle of certain death.

By all accounts, Hachi expected the moment they got even a few meters close to the ground to get crushed under a wave of roller ink, but at the same time she was curious to see what exactly would happen.

About 10 meters above the ground, multiple things started to fall in place, like Shogi koma . First of all, Surume drew 2 Splat Dualie pistols from within her inner jacket. By all accounts, the pistols looked fairly plain, but to Hachi the amature gun-nut, they looked sort of off, something about the grip…

There was no time for Hachi to finish that thought, her eyes quickly darted around Surume as inky ripples started to form across the surface of the pools of green.

A lot more than just one lone Inkling. Hachi just watched intently as Surume leaped right toward the piranha pit, wondering when she should join in to try and help her: Before or after she gets splattered?

The time came for Surume to draw their card for the opening attack: her rolls. Just one simple roll and it sent her flying toward the ground even faster than before.

By the time the Carbon Roller Inkling (now called “Bowl” by Hachi to keep track of players) had risen from its swamp, the meteoric Agent (now with one leg sticking out) was now a meter away from their face.

* dSH! *

Her boot crushed the side of his face, rippling the Inkling’s half-formed face, causing even Hachi to flinch at the thought of experiencing such sizzling pain. They were launched backward into another unlucky Inkling emerging from the ink.

Surume landed on their feet before turning to address the opponent forming behind her. Without a second thought, she hurled their left Splat Duelie right into the right cheek of the emergent hostile, thwacking her head to the side.

Of all the things that Floppy (because of their odd floppy hat with a medal attached to it) was expecting, this was the one thing they expected the least. They stumbled and instinctively reached for the right side of their face to comfort it.

The Duelie flew surprisingly high into the air, its black frame giving contrast to the clear blue sky.

Simultaneously, she started blasting with her remaining right pistol under her left arm toward the 2 other Inklings without looking.

Bowl only just barely dodged in time. As the horde of paint-ful ink found their new mark on the unlucky bandana-wearing Inkling that was knocked down alongside Bowl’s tumble. 

* blO-

”A-!”

PSH* 

The cut cries of the splatted Inking mixed in with their body exploding out slightly in the unnaturally quiet, music-less match.

2 or 3 more sharks concealed within the farther edges of the pit had to begin to make their move, tiny waves formed across the surface including the ramp. 

Surume had yet to move or ink their position, there was simply no time to do so. Green ink seeped out of their skin akin to leaking boat hulls, just one hit will certainly spell the end for them.

Without a second motion, their down left hand unfurled and turned upside down to welcome the falling sibling. Surume snapped their hand shut, perfectly wrapping it around the grip.

“You-! GrrhAA!” 

Face aching, the wrathful Bowl let out a frustrated yell as he dragged the roller from his right side and swung viciously toward his target’s upper body without even switching to horizontal mode, a more baseball bat construction.

Now with both weapons in hand, Surume whipped around to their left to meet with their attacker’s club. Just before impact, Surume unleashed the compressed gas stuffed inside cold metal cans.

*CLANG!* 

The cylindrical air compressor harshly collided with the roller cage, green ink sailed off the roller as if akin to metal sparks, Surume’s Duelie spinning at a rate even blenders would blush at.

Now deflected completely off course, the roller helplessly swished straight past its target, leaving Bowl’s torso wide open along with his mouth. A look that could be one of the most pure forms of fear Hachi had ever seen.

A cocky smile formed on Surume’s face as she planted the other pistol’s nozzle right into Bowls mouth.

“Here, some mouthwash for that breath of yours.”

Her itching trigger finger yanked the floodgates. Ink punched Bowl straight in the beak, magenta flew back out his mouth from backwash as he floundered backwards making rather unpleasant noises and reaching for his throat.

“Gla&#rg%”

Before Surume could get the finishing volley however, the ripples of the sharks washed up on the edges of their boots, causing her to break away and retreat. 

They whirled their body away from the still coughing Bowl and back toward Floppy before shoving the Aerospray RG out of her left arm onto the watery floor, causing Hachi to cringe as a side effect.

Surume made a mad dash for Floppy’s 6 o’clock, quickly sweeping her leg before they rolled behind her. Then-

Then Surume vanished ?

“Woah!” 

Floppy blurted out before flopping on her back as if she were a starfish. Her assailant was nowhere to be seen, as if she somehow turned into mist.

Hachi, Bowl, and a few of the emerging sharks all blinked in confusion and took another look at where Floppy laid, her torso had a rather odd backward hunch to it. 

It would not take long to see them again though, for after about a second, Floppy attempted to sit up, as she put her arms behind her and began to push off the ground she spoke:

“h-”

*FoSHH!*

It sounded like what could only be described as a compressed air being breached. Hachi gasped at a volume that started herself, poor Floppy was launched upwards alongside Surume! Just barely reaching the same level as the grates overlooking the pit around the pole. 

All the Inkfish could do was gawk at the surreal sight.

Floppy’s face could only barely be seen amidst the speed and ink particles, but from what little Hachi was able to discern, her eyes were shut closed with a heavily anguished grimace. Her *entire* body felt as if it was just shot out of a cannon.

Surume, in contrast, seemed to be having the time of their life. Hachi swore it almost looked not far from a light reddish inferno emanating from her, all while cheering out loud for all to hear.

“WOOHOO!”

And quickly flipped upside down and crossed their arms above their head and prepared one of their most flashy attacks as they held down the gas release on their Duelies, causing one continuous discharge of every little molecule of oxygen within the cans.

It was art. 

That is all that Hachi could think of as Surume unleashed a twisting rainstorm of ink blots upon the awestucken opponents down below, continually changing how deep their arms crossed in order to pepper the full 180° angle below them, all while looking close to a drill digging straight downward. Never in her life Hachi would ever think fighting could be so stylish yet so effective .

Every detail sunk into her very eyes, the blend of the magenta and green ink swirling around Surume, the unlucky Floppy taking almost every shot point blank, the 4 Inkfish down on earth one by one turning into splashes of violet as if becoming oceans for their new Kuraokami, each of their stunned voices getting cut off as they were forced packing for their respawn pad, spirits passing by and acting as Surume’s clouds to a diving seagull.

As quickly as it started, the storm cleared. Right before hitting the now mauve dominated boards, Surume righted her orientation and landed on her 2 legs as if she merely had a slight drop.

There was one last matter at hand though. Surume gently took out a burst bomb tied to form a flower from within their left jacket side and lightly tossed it out in front of them, which promptly made contact with the plunging Floppy, deleting any resilience left and splatting her without any other vocalization. 

“And you are set free.” 

Closing it all off with a one-liner. Surume turned to meet Hachi’s eyes and see her reaction for her debut performance, their eyes meeting with the most mystified eyes they had ever had the pleasure of seeing. 

Still flabbergasted from the fight, completely forgetting her previous complaints. Hachi muttered without control, with her hand over her mouth, still slightly out of breath from holding it with such intensity. It was one thing to win a casual match while messing about, it was a whole other world beating people who are trying their best all while being outnumbered. It was more than enough proof Surume was in fact Splatoon Agent.

“ S-Sugoi na. ” 

Surume could barely hear it, much less understand it, but she knew it was positive judging from her face.

“Knew you’d like it!” They cooly said, concealing their true excitement about how impressed Hachi seemed to be, “That's how we gonna have to do it. Even if we lose the war, we take pride in our sick moves.” 

Seconds quickly rinsed away her amazement, remembering that they were still in a game. Spotting movement at the corner of her field of vision, Hachi’s mind snapped back into combat mode. Nothing was there as her eyes scanned the area. Carefully, she told Surume of her concerns as she kept an eye out for any more attackers.

“Um, do you think that is the end?” 

“The end?” Now warmed up to tear up some Inkfish, Surume turned to face in the direction of the other end of the map, eager to see what else they could pull off.

“Don’t bet on it.” 

~~~

Of all the arena’s they had to pick for this stupid challenge, of course it was the one at the coast, the farthest area from the Shoal. And of course they wouldn’t just let her join the game in-progress despite her physical invitation. Kaori walked slowly down the stairs that curved toward the harbor and squinted with weary eyes toward the sea where it housed the decommissioned ship known as the “Manta Maria.” 

Originally, she planned to sleep until 1 pm (or later) as usual, but it was interrupted by the fact the 4 texts to her at 7 in the coddamn morning was in fact not Hachi, but Agent 4 going on about if she got an “invitation or something because this guy seemed pretty pissed that you didnt show up with 8 lmao.” 

After a bit of sluggish trod toward her apartment door she noticed the card on the floor that had slipped through the letter slot on the door. It was a rather simple card with handwritten Inklish inviting her to the Shoal for combat. It lacked any time stamp, which continued to bother her even more. After she lazily got her Hero Runner shoes on, grabbed her Hero headset, her Hero jacket, poncho, and made her way to the Shoal.

Still tired and annoyed at the trek, Kaori’s head subtly drifted around as she irritably walked past the other Jellys taking a walk along the harbor, her legs drawing her closer to the concrete bench closest to the boat, void of its cross ocean bridges. The headset on her neck cycled through an amalgamation of blue, pink, and purple.

As Kaori sat on the stone cold rectangle, she could hear some splatting happening aboard the boat, but there wasn’t even a good observation point to overlook the match. Why? She silently bemoaned to herself, not even realizing someone had landed just behind her. The Captain's eyes continued to stare into the water, imagingin it suddenly splashing up into her face in the hopes it would rinse off the morning grogginess.

“You’re late,”

Those words and vaguely familiar voice certainly caught her attention. Kaori turned around slightly faster than usual to see that same deadpan Octoling she saw a few nights ago standing right behind her, seemingly wearing the same exact clothes since then. “Seemingly” as she had barely enough energy to keep her head turned muchless to study the exact details of the drip.

In his left hand he was holding what seemed to be some sort of curved and slender black cover, vaguely matching the shape of that weapon Hachi wielded. It was held at its “top” end, with the longer side going toward the ground, its curve pointing toward the mirroring blue ocean that hangs above. 

"And here I thought you cared for your partner. I guess that's what happens when"

Kaori's eyelids fluttered for a moment, just a result of her drowsiness. Turning her head a tiny bit more toward the Octoling to make proper eye contact was all the power she could really care to muster up.

“She- She isn’t my girlfriend?"

Kaori corrected, trying her best to sound stoic and serious as her idea of a Captain would, but even to herself that response did not sound clean. Those words mostly clawed its way out of her lungs. I should’ve drank some water after waking up.

The question was a bit weird, there is no way in hell Eight of all people would be interested in me. I tried to kill her TWICE, it just wouldn't make any sense. She was just being polite to her that night, why don't you stop crushing on people just because they were nice to you at one time? Like that one guy during P.E in school years ago who laughed at a funny comment you made in the few minutes during partner rotation. You had never even interacted outside of that moment, you idiot.

Kaori wouldn't air these thoughts out to a random stranger of course, nonetheless her brain rambled on in her head unchecked as the Octoling stranger held silence for a moment at her response without a single muscle on his face forming anything as little as a twitch.

It took a while, but a rush of spice hit her face as his sentence was fully processed in her brain. That *wasn't* what he was implying. He ment battle partners, platonically.

Quickly, she turned back to the ocean with suddenly really ridgid arms propping her up against the rocky seat. Sounds surrounding her became muted as her embarrassment took up all space in her brain. Good thing he didn't know either of them, the sisters (cousins?) probably wouldn't have let that go without a fight.

The stranger simply carried on without acknowledging anything. 

“You were disappointingly slow, some graceless fool had to fill in for you, somehow even more aggravating,"

Was his voice a lot clearer than before ?

"But don't think you're exempt from the rematch,"

The stranger's jacket could be heard rustling a small bit. Without looking Kaori could tell he was pointing at her back with that cane-like object.

"You’ll pay for that kick along with the fall that accompanied it. Another annoyance it had to recover from along with my accursed cold," He clarified as he jumped up on top of the poles at the edge of the fish-made coast and looked up at the Manta Marina's mast.

Explains his voice. Kaori's eyes curiously glanced up at the still Octoling’s black coat. Lack of an illness also seemed to have also accentuated the way he carried himself. Back straightened as if he was on the verge of turning his nose up at the sight of her.

"Now we'll truly see who is stronger next time. We’ll meet again, Nanbu Akuma .”

Without so much as giving a name or a translation, he reformed into swim form and super jumped back onto the boat right on the tippy top of the middle sail above the crows nest. Kaori took one glimpse at the man now standing tall at the top, before guiding her eyes back toward the weirdly still water swishing along the boat's hull. All she could do now was wait for Hachi to finish up her game.

The ocean’s water lapped against the harbor's stone walls. A light mist of salty sea water befallen her arms and face as she slowly came into existence with the world. Its air tasted slightly saltier than usual. Her nose twinged from saline moisture invading it. Palms wrapping the metal poles slowly began to unfuse itself from its chilly metallic exterior the more she took it in. 

Occasionally, the sunlight would accidentally bounce sparkles across the surface of the water into her eyes. Snapping cameras occasionally broke up the natural ambience as Jellies nearby took pictures of the scenery. It was uncanny how different the same city was depending on the time of day and location she happened to be in. Compared to the crowds of last night it's almost a different universe altogether.

Right now was the perfect time and place to wander around with friends , wasn't it?

Without anything else to latch on to, her previous conversation slowly leaked their way into her attention. More specifically that rather awkward slip up-

It's just an annoying thought, she told herself, wanting to forget that ever happened.

Rainbow headphones found themselves placed upon Kaori’s pointed ears in a brisk motion. She took out her phone and pulled up her playlist before shuffling all 500 songs on it, not really caring what played.

♬ ”I see the crystal raindrops fall

And the beau-” ♬

*clck*

Went the + button under her right speaker as Kaori’s finger held it down to skip the song.

Not feeling it.

…

♬ ”Your hand touc-” ♬

*clck*

Not this either.

…

♬ ”Loving you is complica-” ♬

*clck*

…

♬ ”The time has come, and so have I.

I'll laugh last 'cause you came to die.

The damage done, the pain subsides,

And I can see the fear, clear, when I look in your eye.” ♬

There we go.

Kaori’s stomach rumbled as she started to ease into the rock, remembering that she should buy some food in the meantime for Hachi as she waited in a way to apologize for being unable to show up earlier.

Oh yeah, and Agent 4 too I guess . Assuming that's the fool that he was referencing.

Just before she could set her plans in motion, a stray tenta missile flew out of bounds from amidship and flew right into the water in front of Kaori.

The gods must have wanted to spit her since it detonated just on the surface of the ocean before it could submerge and dissolve harmlessly, and sprayed a jet of foamy brine right at Kaori just as she got off the rails to leave.

~~~

Hachi finally realized what was so different about Surume’s Splat Duelies: *Trigger guards!*

The Splat Duelies had a small ring around the trigger within the wider ring! She had no idea why this thought occurred to her as tried to hold off the onslaught of enemies before her, but it was some nice closure. Fading into the battle noise, Hachi tried to get a read on how she could help her teammate who was in the frontlines on their own.

It was a miracle how Surume had yet to be splatted. After they gained some breathing room at spawn, they pushed past the small wall and proceeded to the ramp going down into the main middle of the ship, where they met a comical amount of enemy team members. This area was for sure not designed with 20 players in mind. If her math was right there were about 8 green team members all bubbling up in this one ramp-based choke.

Fortunately, their numbers seemed to be one of the reasons why she was lasting as long as she was. Inkfish desperately tried shoving past each other to attempt to get an angle on Surume, they got more and more agitated as they shot ink into each other's backs, which caused no effect in the slightest. All they could do was push in centimeter by centimeter out of pure numbers, until Surume ran out of ink.

The allure of payment blinded countless members (especially the unemployed teens) of the enemy team to clump up in a massive group and bodyblock a lot of each other’s attacks, intentional or otherwise. Some seem to even just refuse to use any specials and subs in fear that the damage caused their reward to get snatched up from them out from under their noses. 

Their greed also caused their self-preservation to go extreme, as anyone who caught some retaliating fire quickly retreated behind the crowd in fear of getting splattered and missing out their chance to score a bounty.

This was a completely different ball game compared to official mandated Ink Battles she fought in previously where players would rush in head first without any planning, knowing that their Quick Respawn will alleviate some of their poor tactics (a style of fighting Hachi did not appreciate being teamed up with). 

Meanwhile, Hachi tried as best as she could to support Surume in the back by attempting to throw out as many projectiles as she could as her nerves rattled at the club before her own eyes. 

*wish*

Too high. Bringing the Splatana back, she swung again.

*swoh*

Not enough power. It melted before it even reached the ramp.

Her inconsistency was infuriating, further causing her form to mess up more and more, further reminding her how little she truly knew about using such a weapon and how foolish she was in thinking her mindless stick swinging from her childhood would transfer over to such a high-bar weapon.

This “defense” was not going to last any longer, she had to take action. Either close the distance to make use of the sword qualities of the weapon, or…

Her attention turned to the high ground to the left of the ramp. Using her last ink to coat the wall she swam up as fast as she could before anyone else realized the existence of the uncontested highground.

She returned to combat form to trot along the edge toward the riot that formed at the entrance of their spawn, Hachi’s heart rate started to pump faster and faster at the sight. 

What was in her back pocket?

An Ultra Stamp.

And what is the purpose of an Ultra Stamp?

[Designed to wipe out numerous enemies by crushing them within an area with a 3 meter diameter circle with an extra 2 meter splash zone around it in front of the user, dealing large amounts of damage per second.]

Another far memory of a bonus lesson based on intel of the enemy’s new weaponry, sourced a returning Octarian scout. Instructors made sure to drill it into everyone’s heads, to a point where it no longer sounded Octonese, just a jumble of words that held meaning.

The biggest weakness of an Ultra Stamp?

[Lack of range. Can easily be out-ranged against longer ranged weaponry in between swings, specifically with Chargers and Splatlings.]

4 meters down below, all bunched up like a bunch of glistening ripe watermelons asking to be split open with a wooden pole. Every single one was completely unaware of her advantageous positioning.

Eyebrows ascending, eyes widened, a tiny and uncharacteristically creepy grin shaped up in place of where her still real mouth should have been, unaided by her face not usually utilizing such muscles to display such wicket emotion.

Every complaint she previously had about this fight washed away at the mere thought of such a juicy take. Her hands shot to her ink tank only to find out the special had yet to be fully charged. Her gut told her it was just in reach, if she were to ink the rest of the floor it would give her access to the dopamine she so seeks.

With her 3 hearts pounding, she turned and one-mindedly swung her Splatana left and right across the land to grasp at that finish line. Her heels clopped as she guided her legs toward the wall at the edge of the highground, back turned to the cliff that faced the mid area.

As her final swing coated the last of the highground, the blood cells within her head ran sprinted through her veins filled with energy, they too saw the finish line in view.

*DING!*

YOSHI!

In a flash her hands wrapped around the compressed Ultra Stamp handle, in just one pull a sudden burst of ink will flood into the device and inflate it to a comically large hammer, and in the next moment it all will come crashing down on the horde from above. 

*Splish*

That little noise sent an emergency drill’s worth of alarms throughout her body. All she knew was that someone was behind her at the worst possible moment. If they were to splat her now, Surume and Hachi would be set all the way back to square one as the onslaught of Inkfish would eventually push into spawn in more numbers than before.

Every muscle in her body shot up in tension as Hachi twisted her body at a speed that could KO someone if she stuck her fist out. Her left free arm was the first thing to make contact, something squarish, cold, and metallic. As if the barrel was just a hole in a wall. Her fingers gripped tightly and pushed the weapon to a location anywhere but herself as her head finally finished the turn.

Before she could even start taking in the Inkling’s appearance, he quickly used his open arm to grab the Splatana by the blade to balance the scales. Purplish ink ran down his arm as he continued to hold it as tight as he could.

“Huh, you’re actually-”

The Clash Blaster and his arm shook as he attempted to unsuccessfully break it free from Hachi’s still-as-water grasp.

“-pretty strong.” He complimented with barely a hint of stress or struggle in his demeanor, this Inkling’s conscience was evidently fully prepared for battle.

She is fairly certain this one was “Squidkid Jr.” lutenent of the Emperor Clan. She was also fairly certain that his name made absolutely no sense when she thought about it, is “Jr” not already implying the person is already young? So why name the kid “Kid?” 

Even her made up names for strangers seemed more thought out if she did say so herself. Perhaps it's a cultural thing.

This rather awkward clinch did let her take a good close up view of her sharply dressed flanker at least. Across from her was a dark umber brown Inkling with a buzzcut, who wore a rather bright white jacket that went down to his knees which too were somewhat clothed up by rolled up cargo pants. The jacket was undone, similar to how Surume wore hers but with a black shirt underneath.

It contrasted with his bright yellow eyes that matched his sunlight yellow hair. Just looking at his coat on this clear day caused Hachi to squint her eyes. Everything about this Inkling made them a beacon that demanded everyone’s attention.

A clash (blaster)! They continued to hold on tightly to each other’s weapons, slowing both mental states to a crawl. Neither refusing to back down despite the obvious power imbalance. Hachi easily overpowers this one, to her astonishment. Who knew people who regularly participated in fighting sports would have such weak arm strength? A solid hit with his own weapon could force an opening, physical contact was allowed after all, but she was still unsure if other players could handle such a confrontation. 

One of the few abilities she was confident in was her better-than-average muscle strength, she knew her fellow Octarian sparring partners could handle hits, but what about those who had yet to experience such a ruleset? All of this ran through her head before a rather taken aback look slowly formed on her opponent's face.

Salty air tingled her sinuses as the one thing both sides were comfortable at doing: Breathing.

“Jeez!” He said, slightly leaning back.

It wasn't her breath, she was absolutely sure of it.

That slight aghast surprise and the slight hint of fear, she knew it way too well. A truckful of memories hit her gut dating all the way back to her childhood. Mentally, she dropped everything just to correct her mistake allowing a moment where he spotted that crack of hesitation.

Hachi attempted to force her face back into a stoic look as she had been scolded into time and time again, the keen Inkling cocked his head back. Only then did she realize the mistake she made-

As a headbutt aimed right towards her beak.

~~~

It has only been around 10 seconds and Surume’s ambitions in battle had grown beyond this stagnating skirmish with the horde. All the dancing atop hot coals really helped to get the music warmed up in her own brain. Just one breakthrough and Surume and Hachi’s reign of terror could truly begin.

“Head’s up!”

SAVOIR FAIRE [Hard: Success]: With a quick boost from a roll, you begin to slide towards the of the closest Inkling at the front. Getting up and personal was the right boot to start on to begin your extremely, totally well thought out, definitely not impulsive, counter-offense, as they made for a perfect meat shield.

PERCEPTION (TOUCH) - Muscles at the top of your head tense up as a gentle breeze caresses its surface as the grass green volley sailed just out of sight above you. 

SAVOIR FAIRE - As if you weren’t enough of an innate showoff, your hands chucked both Splat Duelies straight up into the azure domain to challenge the heavens

HAND/EYE COORDINATION [HARD: SUCCESS] - This match is really working those hours of juggling practice.

SAVOIR FAIRE - You kick up into a standing position to witness the sight of all of the pairs of eyes lasering right up at the harmless pistols, no one able to predict what would happen next.

“Wha-?!” 

The Inking at the front went before-

*Bol-ASH!*

A 2 burst bomb laced-fist sent the Inkling soaring after the Duelies with a whopping uppercut. Ink showering out from within the finished Inkling blinded all who gazed upon the spectacle.

With that, Surume stuck her index finger out from her fist as she held the key pose before announcing:

“This party’s gettin’ crazy!” 

Both of her Tenta Missiles Launchers were summoned out of hammerspace and slammed onto the floor with a slightly faulty *crnsh* , its internal barrels sticking out of the launchers a jammed plastic laser sword toy.

“Let’s rock!”

(♪ 7 Shells Battle / Kento Hasugawa, Tetsuya Shirasubata)

Pure mayhem. The answer to the question: ‘What would happen if someone sets off damaged fireworks in the middle of a crowded dance floor?’

A salvo of uncontrollable missiles spewed out in all directions neither with a target nor a set path in mind. 

The swarm of bottle shaped hornets tore unpredictably in the surrounding airspace ruining the green team’s ramp picnic.

Naturally, the members of the opposing team attempted to scatter in any direction in a mad frenzy, their visions still blurry from the ink.

The few who stood their ground or were too slow turned into magenta puddles for their trouble in a squish.

One player managed to swim straight toward their side of mid only to get directly hit by a missile making a 170° twist in the air.

Another made a last ditch attempt to activate Baller mode, unfortunately accidentally catching a rogue battle passing by within their own plastic walls, promptly blasting their unaware face into droplets.

"Sweetness" wafted through the boat’s deck for Surume, who loved the smell of ink sparks in the morning. Hopefully it wasn't a result of any chemicals mixed in the rocket ink.

Those sweet guitar riffs, the pounding on those drums , all mixed in with that spike of adrenaline, it was all coming together to make them feel as if they could solo the entire team no matter what they pulled. Now was the perfect time to get Hachi a taste of *real* Inkopolis Ink Battles.

They looked up towards the sky, awaiting the return of their tools, just in time to watch as 2 missiles collided mid air, its shockwave naturally sent their twin shooters onto the viewpoint left of the ramp, right where Hachi’s marker was, Lucky!

Without missing a beat, she shot up the wall and caught one just as it nearly bounced off the wall. It was then they spotted Hachi in her predicament. Dooming one half of the complete set, Surume zoomed past and emerged on top just in time to see Hachi’s dancing partner start to react. She reached outward with her open hand-

~~~

Fuzakeru na! [This guy!]

The most treacherous attempt at a headbutt known to fishkind! It left Hachi so miffed she did not even care about the fact that she was falling right into the middle of the entire battle area she previously witnessed brimming with numerous Inkfishes trying to splat her as air raced past her rounded ears, cooling her body.

To think that her act of mercy to not use her much stronger and heavier arms to knock him about would be cast aside in such a mean way! Did their mutual inactivity mean nothing?

Well, she guessed she can’t really blame him, it's not like they agreed not to hit each other in spite of the rules in the middle of the grapple, but still left her feeling betrayed. 

Maybe if she had the confidence to speak even with her subpar Inklish, then perhaps that would have ended differently (preferably with his blaster kissing his face). 

Īe , gochagocha mō ato de.

[No, think about that later.]

Her eyelids drew the curtains for a moment only to pull back into the next scene: A flipsided and rather hellish view of a scene right out of a photographer during the Great Turf War. As her body surrendered to natural forces, plum liquid sparks ripped around the air looking for any tinder to puff up into clouds of colorful smoke.

Then she realized what this was: a sign. A sign that Surume somehow managed to break through the choke point and an opening to wreak havoc on the green team. It was unbelievable, was she as good as Kaori? Was every Agent in the Splatoon as good as this?? Those were some deep shoes to fill.

Hachi’s eyebrows ever so slightly deepened as her brain reverted back to what she was going to do moments ago, this time making sure to keep her mind on track, letting go of that Inkling rapscallion from her mind. In a pop of a bubble, she seized the Ultra Stamp from her tank and began to tear through what little remained of the opposing team.

“BLA-!”

*SHSplooshSHSH!*

“NO-!”

*SHSHSplooshSH!*

“WA-!”

*SHSHSplooshSHSH!*

More and more players vanished from the fighting ground. Combined with the missiles, the rampage mangled 5 members of the enemy team as she started on the right side of mid flushing out any who attempted to take any semblance of high ground and crushed her way to the left side into the green team’s half of the fighting ground.

Hachi paved her way up until the ramp of the slightly elevated area on the left of the main valley on the way to the enemy’s base just as the Stamp’s duration started to close out. 

In the last seconds of the special she spotted her old rival’s haircut slowly peeking out from the edge of the higher-ground that dropped onto this lower-higher-ground: Bowl.

Her reaction timed kicked in, aided from the surge of vigor following the splatstreak. Before he even had time to get a line of sight on Hachi, the colossal crusher was sent whooshing precisely towards his rounded hair with her full might.

In a millisecond, Bowl’s eyes saw the deck of the ship.

The next, the purple-red Squidforce logo.

Then nothing, as his head simply ceased to exist as the hammer erased everything above his shoulders.

And lastly, the rest of his body exploded into dark pink as its headless body stumbled over in delayed surprise unaware of its lack of brain.

A 5 splatstreak (7 included tenta missiles) packed within 8 tide-turning seconds. 

The fervor of combat was starting to take an effect on Hachi as she began to sink deeper into its tune. Her mind was slowly dulling out the volume of her thinking as she redrew her Splatana. 

Here exists a serene and slumber fireplace giving off warmth to those who bask in its glow on a cold winter’s night, but deep within its crackling red hot heat quietly resides a destructive force within its glowing wooden core, powerful enough to burn down fields of ancient forests if left unchecked. Perhaps if one were to listen closely as they carefully fanned the flames they would hear the song of its crackle…

1 last Inkling remained on the mirrored side of the dance floor adorned with the iconography of the Squidforce passing under the grate bridge and past the giant pole at the heart of the ship. They attempted to gain some space to work with as they coated the floor with a shooter Hachi was too far from to recognize. 

Utilizing the trick she learned yesterday, she leaped off the short ledge and morphed into swim form for a brief moment and launched herself horizontally straight toward the Inkling, taking advantage of their false sense of security. 

*TSSH*

In half a second, Hachi had already found herself crossing the center half of mid, flying past a massive brown blur under the cover of the hexagonal sunshine. It would only take a few milliseconds now before Hachi would wipe their existence for the following 7 seconds. 

Sunlight yellow glitzed into her field of view as a beacon shone through the bright colors of the arena.

3 of her hearts frozen cold solid in a sheen of blue copper.

Its glow radiated brilliantly as a cut straight through reality. Origin point was unknown, somewhere behind Hachi, but where it ended was the most important thing here. The eye of the Inkling squinted as the light drew a straight line almost directly into their corona with its intense gleam. 

That was not what terrified her however. That was to be attributed to its inevitable vanish as Hachi approached closer and closer in front of the Inkling as she was carried by the uncontrollable momentum.

Was it simply a trick of the light?

No.

It had not left at all, her head just happened to get in its way. 

*PCRACK*

*sPLOSH*

Blurs was all she could see as the weight of a sandbag could be felt crashing into her body as drops of liquid collided into her flesh as she was sent tumbling to the left of the ramp.

A moment passed her vision cleared up just enough to see an oddly out of character Surume squatting over her with a slightly worried look as a splash of sunshine blond ink faded slowly off her tan complexion. 

“Hey, you good?” She whispered in a voice style Hachi had not yet heard before. This was the “most feminine” out of the 3 vocalizations, but-

Well, Hachi did not know the Inklish word for it, but in Octonese Surume would still be referred to as chūsei , both manly and womanly. It definitely must have hit all the right notes because it gave Hachi an oddly motivated feeling, or maybe she was just a sucker for the idea of someone cracking open their colorful shell to let out a glimpse of their true self.

Hachi's eyes blinked wide open in an energized state as tiny white dots constantly disappeared and reappeared overlaying everything in sight.

The moment Surume saw her tackled-teammate was in tip-top shape, they instantly slipped back behind the smiling mask of whatever character they were playing as without a second notice. So much for their true self.

“Gotta hand it to you, the hardest person I’ve had to tackle so far, and I used to be in the Rugby team!”

It just would not stop. Another gold star in Hachi’s eyesight increasingly intensified from the middlemost vantage point-

*BANG!*

*pang*

Like lightning, Surume dropped their Splat Duelie to draw from her left holster and unleashed what sounded akin to thunder at the sniper positioned upon the grate bridge just behind her. The crouching whitecoat girl wielding the Splatterscope stumbled back as a small solid magenta projectile stuck her weapon momentarily before melting into a dribble of steaming ink and dripped off the body of the rifle through the charcoal black grates. 

A moment of silence followed as the panicked seagulls and pelicans flapped away in droves from Manta Marina. A small gray feather gently floated down past the barrel of the Glooga that had produced the unexpected fireworks, a faint smoke rising out of its opening.

As the world stood still, Surume’s dexterity was put to work as she popped the metallic cap off the back of the Glooga with a click of some button and tilted the weapon up. A tiny hollow cylinder of broken plastic tinkled as they fell onto the floor before they inserted what seemed to be a pill like object into one of its numerous holes inside the back of the weapon with a satisfying:

*clink*

Before flicking the pistol up as it automatically snapped shut and pointing it as the cloud-colored uniformed assassin. 

Hachi’s eyes focused in on the female knight before quickly pulling them away to the suddenly very interesting spot somewhere loosely at the edges of the wooden pole. That was too close, they nearly locked eye contact, which would have probably given her a heart attack(s). The stern faced girl bore a rather similar ochre brown tone to the Octoling mirroring her, only slightly darker. 

By process of elimination, this had to be “N-Pacer,” the other lotennant of the Emperor clan (a much better name than “Squidkid” in her opinion). Much like the rest of the whitecoats she was dressed in a knee length white jacket with a milky eminence with a pair of black leggings.

Another comparable trait would be the solar yellow coloring in her eyes and on her tightly knit double-bun hairstyle which reminded Hachi of a gei- , no, this girl would *not* be a geisha, not even close . Not even a onna-bugeisha , Hachi corrected with a silent subtle shake of the head, with those noble clothes and silver shoes she would be full on handsome samurai ! 

…

Why did she do this to herself?

Hachi’s hands guided themselves to her locks of hair and started nervously squeezing before releasing repeatedly without input. She really did not need to make up a reason to crush on another stone-faced girl she would not have the courage to converse with shortly before beating them over the head with a piece of cleaning equipment. 

Shame, bet she could have given some advice on how to use a charger once she finally buys that E-lit-

YAMERO! [STOP!]

Surume stood turned to face N-Pacer with their “Glooga” pointing at the hesitant sniper. A subtle bleach scent slowly tickled the nostrils of both Hachi and her teammate.

“Sheesh, don’t you know you’re not supposed to interrupt a pep talk?”

And so another Inkling emerged from behind the wooden pillar. Immediately, Surume set their other Duelie's sights on them.

What met their point was a one-handed Clash Blaster aiming straight back towards Surume as Squidkid Jr. joined in on the stand off while he bounced a splat bomb on the other palm.

“Woahoh, hold on there! We need to finish our little duel earlier, also please explain whatever the flying fish that noise was."

“Oh?” Surume rested their Glooga behind their head,

“I’m sure you of all people would know, unless somehow a member of Team Emperor forgot the limited range of a Clash Blaster. Is there a little overclocked launcher in that crayon box of yours?”

Jr. opened his mouth to respond only to pause and change topic.

“Well, Clan Emperor,” Was all he spoke without a hint of irony in his voice.

“Oh,” Surume noted, “Are you guys really sticking by that name? I’ve always heard tales of the fierce and unmatched Team Emperor, but I gotta say ‘clan’ does have a warlord ring to it.”

“Hey, if he says ‘Clan,’ I say clan,” Jr said matter of fact-ly as N-Pacer began centering the side of Surume’s smiling camera face in her cross-hairs,

“If he says ‘Team,’ I say team. Still,” He shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t get why he changed the name the moment he learned the concept of clans before the game, but I'm sure he has a good reason.”

He gave a cheeky grin. 

“Doesn’t matter anyway, we’ll kick your butts back to the ocean even if we called something dumb.”

As they bickered, Hachi slowly reached and gripped the Splat Duelie laying on the pool of pinkish purple ink in her left hand, keeping a close eye on her surroundings all while being very aware of the fact N-Pacer was watching her every move, who was surprisingly tolerant of her teammate continuing dialogue with the enemy. That being said, the rest of the green team should have spawned back in by now, what is keeping them busy?

“Jr, shoot them,” N-Pacer requested, as she unscoped to double check her weapon for any damage. A girl after Hachi’s heart.

“But didn’t you wanna hear the magic behind that little purple dot?” Surume rather innocuously.

“Na, we really should start-” Squidkid started before a new voice cut him off.

It oozed with authority while also carrying sloshers worth of hubris alongside it, more than enough to fill a royal bathtub in just a few swings while also giving the bathroom floor a good rinse. All at once, all Inkfish from both sides turned in a mix of curiosity and awe at the commanding voice located on the high ground on the side of the green and Emperor spawn. 

“Stand down, Lieutenant Jr. and Lieutenant Pacer, I need to show them who they are dealing with.”

Honesty, Hachi could not see a damn thing. All she could see was one giant lens flare as she tried looking over at the source of the voice. She never expected this kingly team to actually have their own tennō [Emperor of heaven]. Even staring directly at the sun with a max power Charger scope burned her irises less than this! 

“Wh- Why are you here??” N-Pacer asked the walking solar panel with a hint of frustration, “If they splat you guys even once we lose the game!”

“Hmp, as if they are even *close* enough the skill level it would take for them to land a single droplet on me.” Responding to the magical orb of pure sunlight, somehow displaying his smug face despite his lack of features.

“Sir, I don’t mean to question your tactics, but-” Jr. began, before once again getting cut off. 

“Both of you were too slow, go and trim those peasants frolicking around our castle. Once I show these 2 the unrestricted power of Throneman Emperor they will fall to a pit of despair deeper than the ocean!” Declared the sungod.

“We didn’t even-! *Sigh* ” The 2 other lieutenants simultaneously bleated before yielding.

Squidkid Jr. turned to Hachi with disappointment but also a bit of shared cockiness, “Hey!” Then to Surume, “we’ll meet again!”

Before squidding out and super jumping back to their base.

*FOOSH! *

N-Pacer simply gave a look of slight annoyance to both of them, Hachi of course flustered by it the most, before following her teammate.

*FOOSH* 

“Now then, I’ll let you bask in my presence at little longer before I utterly *destroy* both of you with only a little bit of effort.” Sir Eyestrain jeered before taking steps over the grate bridge toward the wooden pole that held the main masts of the ship up on high. All this did however was make his shoes barely visible around the edges of the blinding light. 

To her dismay, they too had no recognizable branding on them, similar to Veligero’s custom-looking gear, so no copping them if she enjoyed their freshness. It was a fairly straightforward design, an extremely clean white pair of shoes with 2 gold straps located just above the area above the ankles.

It was a miracle she was even able to comprehend these pieces of footwear as the gold parts were almost as reflective as the rest of the solar flare’s outfit. Hachi’s amber eyes squinted only mere moments after laying them upon his feet. Even Surume had donned their crossed sunglasses again in an effort to get a look of this dude.

After Solarlight’s intentionally drawn out walk-out, did the duo finally get a clear look at their main target as the sunlight was obscured by the shade of the titanic pole he stood within. As Hachi got her eyes readjusted to the darkness, there was no mistaking him after seeing him in the pre-game. His name might as well had been written all over him, his clothes, demeanor, way of speaking, and *especially* face. 

Emperor.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13: Hasty Spirit

There stood the cleanest and most well groomed of the pack as his hands rested in his jacket pockets. Unlike the others, this one Inkling’s white robes nearly blinded Hachi with its flawless brilliancy, devoid of any wrinkles or cloudiness on its gold elbows and buttons even in the shade. She did not notice the elbows were wrapped in gold until now, all the other jacket elbows must have been too muddy to be noticed. The black leggings wrapping his legs were not that special to be honest. Hachi assumed they were probably really comfortable and expensive though!

His side swept “hipster” hair style for sure must have had hours fixing it up beforehand as not a single noticeable discrepancy could be noted between each tendril. His *ink* color also seemed to have more of a luster than the other members of Clan Emperor.

“Don’t think that getting one wipe with a Stamp means you can take on the kings of turf wars. Those losers don’t even equal 1% of a Clan Emperor member. Do you even really realize who you’re messing with?” Emperor warned as his arm left his pocket and waved dramatically through the empty space.

He focused his uncomfortably bright eyes on Hachi, “Hm, but I guess I can’t fault the girl. These new arrivals had not yet had time to get served the taste of despair at the hands of Tea- Clan Emperor into their outward suction cups.” 

Hachi was oddly pleased, and dare she say it, a little proud to be recognized as an Octoling by another Inkling stranger, even while being singled out. Her 2 tentacles at the side of her face twitched with mixture of acknowledgement and slightly offending.

“Woah woah, hold up there chief, you about to get racist up in here?” Surume peered at him directly over their angular glasses with underlying intensity with their chill and raspier style of speaking.

Emperor paused for a second with a slight bearing of his pearly white beak, then chuckled.

“Heh, thought you could trip me up that easily? A king does not discriminate. All fall under the heel of skill and talent, wielded by people like Clan Emperor” he acknowledged, then drew his arm out of his pocket pointed aggressively to the increasingly more invested Surume and the slightly jumpy Hachi,

 “You all clearly fit into the *first* category. Go ahead and save yourself the time and dive right into the ocean behind you. Maybe then you can use that extra time to learn who exactly rules the Ink Battles,” the arrogant Emperor suggested as he moved his pointer finger to the sloshing water lapping on the side of the boat behind Hachi and Surume.

He does bring up a good point. If the game ends early, Hachi could just return the Splatana and maybe have enough time to wash her other set of clothes before meeting up with Marina and Pearl. Surume seems to know who this guy is right? Hopefully, they choose to forfeit for her so it will not be her fault for ending the game, then she can get started on-

“Nah, I wanna see if the king really fits the crown. Wanna see if you can really keep your promise about never touching even a tiny bit of color. Who wouldn’t want to see The Untouchable Man?” Surume enthusiastically answered, snuffing Hachi’s small hopes to ash.

Emperor dramatically and slowly pulled back his hand into his slightly oversized jacket pockets with a slight head tilt up as if forcing himself to even consider the idea.

“Hm, normally, I would not bother with the effort and quickly put overconfident fools in their place, but today I’m feeling generous. I’ll do you a favor and meet you down there like a commoner. So far only 1 man in existence has ever made me touch enemy ink in my career, and it's a mistake I won’t ever do again.”

Hachi’s mouth slightly opened as her brows furrowed deeply at proclamation. Was she understanding this right? Was this guy for real? It is like a teenage bad guy walked right out of a kid’s manga with this amount of cockiness. She turned to Surume with a slight tilt to her head to see if it was ‘one of those jokes that you say seriously and somehow you are supposed to tell it is not serious.’

All they responded with was an excited shrug in response, not really getting why Hachi looked at them, before turning back toward Emperor.

“Hmmm, say, didn’t you say you were leaving Team Emperor after you lost one game or something?” Surume prodded. It's not everyday they get to talk to a niche micro celebrity, excluding that one actual celebrity they torment on the regular of course.

“Yes, I did,” he emphasized, a question he was sick of answering, “What, you think a kingdom forgets its ruler the moment he steps down? I came here alone, thinking that the cash prize (not that I care for such a pitiful amount) would result in some of the more skilled peasants of the bunch to join in, then I would destroy them on my own. Only in the fires of the oven does the sword get tempered.”

Emperor turned to look toward his team’s end of the map, almost posing for a painting.

“Though,” Emperor continued, regaining his sneer, ”I guess I’m just too good at finding ways to improve, as low and behold, my old Clan seemed to have the same idea. Now, as their oldest and most skilled member, it's my responsibility to give them the highest education.”

“But you sent them gone?” Hachi thought out loud by accident, immediately regretting it. Her lungs lightly tighten and her face grimaced at the tiny word fumble, hoping no one would not comment on her mistake and/or accent.

“Those 2 are some of the most skilled players in the turf war scene!” Emperor exclaimed proudly,

“They’re more than capable of learning and adapting in an outnumbered scenario. If some randos like you were able to pull one over on the other team though, maybe it's not the most challenging assignment. Besides, this isn’t for them.” 

That break in eye contact… Maybe it was Hachi making things up in her head but he seemed to be truthful that wasn’t for him nor his team. At least not the 2 that they had met already. She had a creeping suspicion they were close at hand.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted one more person. Their energy was such a contrast to the first 3 however that it took her a moment to confirm that it was another whitecoat.

Every member so far has had a sort of grand presence, yet compared to them this one almost reclusive . They were standing just behind a corner on highground to the right of Emperor, at the entrance to the grate bridge.

Hachi's mind kinda felt bad for him as her mind went blank trying to recall his name from the line up even though he was the only one to give a friendly greeting, the fact he was the second leader (if she was guessing correctly) had been buried by the other members completely overshadowing him in her memory with their personalities. 

From what little she could see, his outfit was almost a carbon copy of Emperor except wearing classic shorts instead and having a swept back hairstyle with a singular bang draped in front of his face, slightly obscuring the first ruby red eyes of the team (in Hachi’s opinion seemed very annoying to have if you are going to fight).

His eyes had a measured confidence to them, one that lacked the egoism of the king, more intense than that of the laid back squid kid, although not as chilled and precise as the surveying eyes of the pacing sniper.

Cleanliness of the outfit was only slightly below what Emperor had displayed, still notably more taken care of than the rest with what seemed to be a bit of a very faint glitter effect, if her eyes were not playing tricks on her. 

He had sensed Hachi’s sight presence rather quickly to her surprise, as he stepped further away from the ledge fully behind the wall. No one else commented on the lurking figure, she guessed all she could do now was focus on the upcoming fight at hand and hope he would not be too much of an issue.

“You just said-” Surume started,

“Enough! Consider this your first lesson in basics, ‘Knowing when you’re awfully outmatched .’” 

“Oho, delusional, but ambitious!” They remarked as they scratched their shoulder with the cone of a Splat Dualie, “Great stuff.”

Slowly, a rare set of pure white clouds casted above the Manta Marina, subduing the light reflected off his snow white uniform. Hachi’s open mouth tasted almost as if she took a sip of sea water. A slight hiss could be heard as the ocean waves gently picked up in intensity as the early morning waned only to climb up the hull before falling back down to their home. Despite the briny air surrounding her, all she could smell was old wood and ink, faintly reminding her of the Close Quarters Combat training exercises that took place in old dojos. Her grip relaxed just a bit on the Splat Dualie and the Splatana, yet still ready to unleash with power. 

“You think I’m joking? Perhaps you have grown overconfident.” He called out as he drew 2 matching white and gold Splat Dualies from behind his back.

Something set off Hachi’s inner gun repairwoman at its sight, not the gaudy color scheme, that was fairly nice actually. It was the one piece of gear from Clan Emperor so far with a branding on it, however was still sadly too far away for her to make out a brand to satiate her curiosity. Maybe it was the proportions?  

Out of the corner of her eye, Hachi observed the lowkey Inkling looking at Emperor without a change in expression before turning back to watch her and Surume. Is he just letting him make this objectively bad decision? Is this not a match with money on the line?? Were these not some of the best players picked for this game???

All the universe could whisper back however was the strumming of a distant guitar as it called her to battle. Hachi’s pupils widened as she nearly piped up to let Surume know about the event but just pulled herself back in time to let Emperor finish his whole deal.

“I think It's time for you to learn your place and die for my entertainment,” Emperor wrapped up as he lowered into a combat stance with the 2 pale pistol,

“Now step forth, the king awaits you!”

~~~

Both Surume and Hachi assumed a fighting stance as Emperor turned and ran up the wooden pole behind him and jumped off, soaring high above the 2 members of the magenta team.

Gracefully almost mimicking the sun itself, he angled his guns at their optimal angles as he shot in all directions he fell toward the clueless Inkfish, creating an almost hissing noise as he added a slight gun-boost.

*SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS*

In a mere second and a half, 60% of the lime and ube deck vanished under the snowstorm of lemon at supernatural speeds, trapping Hachi and Surume in a tight circle. Everything the light touched was brought under his control.

Almost shoulder to shoulder, Hachi and Surume quickly attempted to aim their matching Splat Dualies to the sky, only their start up was too slow.

Emperor landed straight up, with one boot on each of their shoulders before their arms could get past the 90° mark.

* domf!*

Hachi silently grimaced from the landing as Surume did not even show an ounce of pain. All that met their eyes as they attempted to look at this pompous champion was the barrel of his ghastly firearms.

“This is as far as you go.”

Emperor stood proudly upon their shoulders with the smuggiest of smirks casting down upon them as a resolute Splatana swiftly approached from his right as another welcoming Glooga guided its danger-end toward his left.

Emperor

 Absolute King of Turf War, Emperor Clan Throneman.

Without even fighting back, he leaped off their aching shoulders and placed himself into the surrounding yellow mire, as the mental melody kicked in full tempo. He made one last beckoning motion before returning back to a ready stance and launching a barrage of ink onto their tiny island.

Hachi hastily got to work trying to weakly ink back some space with the single tiny shooter in her off hand as Surume, sorta just stood still, void of energy, their still eyes wide open behind those cross glasses.

Her nerves were not calming down, only continuing to tense up with energy and excitement. It was extremely difficult for her to recall any of those theories she had for moves.

Funny how that works.

Fighting for her life all alone in an underground testing facility filled to the brim with undead comrades? Her body and spirit remained steadfast and ready to act at a moment’s notice, a true cultivation of the effort she had put in since her existence. 

But a comparatively much easier and fun clash with a new friend lacking any real stakes? There goes all her memories from her childhood. Maybe that kick to the head did leave some lasting damage.

Emperor continuously shot down range at their measly little magenta island from the slightly elevated ground, hopping on top and off the small wall, firing with much more range than standard Splat Dualies should have. Must be another modded weapon, like Surume’s. 

The nimbus cloud continued to run and gun around the perimeter circumference as Hachi could only keep the encroaching ink at bay with some light swings and sprays from her little gun as Surume continued to just exist behind her idly, not even moving a centimeter.

Every millisecond that blinked on by continued to put more and more stress on her. She waited for the moment for him to leave an opening, a roll or push forward, yet none came. Her expectations were low judging from his attitude but Emperor knew he just had to keep poking at range until they made a mistake.

Amidst all of the zoning, he started taunting her as well.

“How is it? The taste of despair?”

At this point she just had to do something a little rash, his words scratched at her ears, each centimeter fraying her patience more and more.  She did not care if The Expression would end up stuck to her face permanently, she had to do something. ESPECIALLY if Surume continued to just not help.

In a split moment where there was a slight amount of down time after ducking a shot with swim form, she spun around and attempted to give a rather unhelpful Surume the most harshest silent glare she could possibly give as her body reformed itself back up, enough to cut any creature into sashimi. 

It would have probably worked if it was a living creature. 

Instead of Surume, what Hachi got was a rather comically exaggerated “statue” of their likeness, her reaction frozen in time. Resulting from an hollow and incomplete ink armor husk that lacked a set of hell-eyes, from which only the front side had been fully formed. 

Hachi ducked and returned some short range fire back to her opponent. There was no sign of Surume anywhere on this puddle besides that magenta sculpture, no room to swim nor a way to ink outwards without being spotted. 

Kuso , of all the things she missed back home, a squad leader to micromanage every single person and action really was not near the top of her list, but Surume was helping it quickly move up the ranks.

Shortly after that thought however, their plan sprung into action.

Out popped a familiar short haired Inkling out from the sunlight swamp just behind Emperor to his surprise-

“What!?” 

Was all he got out as he turned to see this unforeseen flank.

“Hope this hits,”

*BANG!!*

Barely reacting in time, Emperor conjured a curling bomb to act as a makeshift bucker as yellow haired Surume casually strolled forward with a slight slouch.

One-handing that almost ear-ringing loud “Glooga” pistol, they unloaded a purple bombardment straight at the makeshift shield of the king, its heavier than average recoil slightly guiding Surume’s arm up in between each internal combustion. 

Even with the element of surprise, they still managed to miss the opening shot, with no help from their awful shooting posture, Hachi presumed.

“Bastard!”

Emperor shouted from behind his piece of cover. 

Surume responded with a:

*BANG!!*

(“ch-pow.”)

*BANG!!*

(“pshew.”)

With each step, Surume made their way closer and closer to the cowering Emperor. This was Hachi’s time to strike!

As fast as a migrating octopus in the fall, Hachi looped between inking the floor with her loaned Dualie and swimming forward. Still, it was going to take at least 2 seconds for her to close the gap at this rate. 

In between those seconds, Surume got right up in Emperor’s face, holstered their pistol and attempted to place both of their grubby little hands onto his shoulders. Hachi was not really sure what their plan was with this attack.

But it was not to be, the moment Surume was close enough, Emperor dropped the curling bomb as he flashed into swim form for less than a second into a high speed soaring backflip.

“Flash Saber!”

*FLSHH!*

His milky white shoe tip drove directly into the bottom of Surume’s chin, sending them flying back through the air with a sharp-

*DKSH!*

Completely skipping over the matter of team color. A bright yellow inky crescent trailed his still spotless shoes, reminiscent of the rings from a lens flare which flashes across a camera’s lens.

A second had yet to pass, Hachi rose from the ground and raised her Splatana for a critical strike, attempting to strike Emperor during his landing recovery, eager to shut him up.

*ssssss*

Her amber pupils tightened and looked downward in helpless despair. 

Red was the coiled ring of death that slithered slightly upon the shallow, sunny surface. Its sibilant song, the sea snake sang, shortly shadowing the swift silencing its spoils.

*ssswsHNNNN*

~~~

    実直を つらぬくキミの 道しるべ     No stealth or guile, not for you.

「迷いはないの？」                           You pave the way as plain as day,

  聞くと「そだねー」。                         Foreshadowing imminent spew.

                -八                                                                         - Hachi about Curling Bombs (In Inklish this time.)

~~~

* PLOOF!*

(*splsplspl *)

No trace of Hachi remained as the leftover curling bomb exploded at its maximum power at point-blank range, guaranteeing her solid to gas transformation in an instant.

Its blast barely affected its creator, who merely felt a slight gust of wind lightly shift a strand of hair.

Ouchie.

Was her final thought as her spirit floated on back to the spawn pad.

“Ha! Are these the limits to your ignorance? Here I thought the Octarian army was trained!” 

Emperor ridiculed with the most smug smile yet, furrowing Hachi’s ghostly brows even in death.

He slipped his wrists into the wide grip guards the Dualies possessed as he focused in on supined Surume. Without any input from him, they began to continuously expel high amounts of pressurized air from out the cans at the back of the pistols without pause.

Eventually he was essentially wielding the wind itself, wisps of ink swirled within the gales that formed turbulent bracelets around his wrists, the 2 pistols vanishing from sight entirely. The air surrounding Emperor’s hands had a constant hissing going about it combined with the sound of scurrying wind, the exact sound one would hear if they went outside on a windy day.

Past all of that racket, Hachi could hear a wicked string instrument’s tone underneath all of it, nearly identical to a chainsaw. Not from the environment but from within her head, as an instrument she could not recognize took over the “track” in her head in an intense resonance, welcomed by what she would assume were drums.

“Slippery little hagfish. You think I don’t have some tricks of my own? Here’s your second lesson: A king must be prepared for any situation in battle!”

Hachi's soul cringed as she watched his pupils roll up into the back of his head, giving him pearly white stones for eyes. There was no way that was necessary for his next action.

Emperor spread his arms wide then suddenly swung inwards and crossed his arms faster than a speeding droplet.

Briefly, the 2 swirling ashen Dualies halted for a fraction of a second and collided with each other-

*BRSHK!*

Causing a mini sonic boom as they fading back into a blurry vortex.

A thin ink “film” could be seen forming and ripping apart in front of the Throneman as a bright yellow ink hollowed disk cleaved the space toward Surume who was still getting up from the first fall.

Little specks of liquid jumped away from the circle, showcasing its unhinged saw blade rotation speed.

These were the final scenes Hachi were able to comprehend before floating too high up to decipher what was happening on the battlefield below.

~~~

* Plop*

Once again Hachi was back at homebase spawn pad.

It was all silent on the homefront, almost, if she ignored the very distinct bangs and crackles in the foreground of the ship. If she did not know any better Hachi would have assumed it to be some construction somewhere along the streets of the dock.

Eager to get back into the fight, she opened her map and selected Surume for a super jump, then stopped just shy of the launch.

Could she really entrust them with her safety? In her mind, she pictured jumping on Surume’s position only to land in the middle of an ink-mindfield with 10 different colored lasers pointing at her all before her head could tilt a centimeter up.

Nope, she was going to take the scenic route. To cool her head and maybe think of a plan by the time she gets there. Ignoring the ink trail going straight across or around the pit, she walked up the grate ramp that surrounded the mast, and looked out into the bright blue ocean to her right. Across the water rested the landmass where the out-of-service arm of Inkopolis attempted to latch on to.

A moment passed in silence, quieting her agitated state, her mind wandered into a wonder if anyone on the other side was fighting their own battles just as she was. Maybe both of them stared unknowingly at each other at this very moment in the quiet before the storm. Hachi’s tentacles slightly curled as the cool ocean breeze washed over her skin, its mild bite complimented by the embrace of the sunlight.

The longer she stared the quieter the volume of that mental music seemed to lower, eventually almost becoming silent.

A small but roaring wave slapped itself against the side of the boat, yet even as it sprayed a light tasty mist upwards, it completely failed to scale the snowy white hull. Just out of reach, but still so far. Perhaps it is this reason why the water wails so loudly. 

With the help of the beautiful scenery, Hachi set her brain into thinking gear. It was a luxury she did not realize she missed. The ability to just stop and have a moment before a fight. There was nothing pretty to look at back then, that she was sure of. This might even apply to her vague memories in the Valley.

Is Emperor’s purposely annoying to make opponents attack recklessly with his personality? His fighting style seems to be keeping them at a distance and putting them in unfavorable positions to react to any advances. That would make his goal of never touching a drop of enemy ink possible.

Close quarters combat is not Hachi’s preferred distance. Before being forced to adapt in the deep sea journey, her attempts at hand to hand sparring usually ended rather 1 sided.

Usually, her usual thought process in a battle was:

1. Observe and decide an opening action.
2. Put herself in the opponent's shoes to try and predict how they would counter.
3. After that, try to think up a counter attack to their counter plan, so on and so on.

For a long distance fighter with distance between the enemy, it was a rather solid gameplan. For a frontline weapon, not so much.

In such suffocating spaces, the enemy usually would have already scored 3 times over, shuffling her mind every blow. 

Each hit continuously adding to the pile of homework, each mistake adding more factors into her workflow. Ironically overwhelming her with choice, leading her to lash out thoughtlessly with whatever attack first comes to mind.

Her workaround for now is to back up to briefly switch her “thinking style,” skipping the thinking stage almost entirely and straight to the execution stage to match the situation before diving back in. Shell is a lot better than being completely indecisive.

Nowadays with the freedom of living for herself, Hachi would much rather just only fight with a charger.

As the text in the book written by the inventor of fighting once said (Hachi forgot the name of the author) one of the 5 essentials to victory is:

『 リーダーが、自分と自分の部隊について知っているのと同じくらい、相手の部隊について知っているとします。この知識によって、リーダーはいつ前進し、いつ後退すべきかを知ることができる。 』

[They will win who knows when to fight and when not to fight!]

Even DJ Takowasa shōgun himself visited in person to endorse the wisdom of this book and the stories of the author. Seeing how she is rewarded by being in Ink Battles, maybe one day Hachi could buy 2 of every piece of clothing on Earth with her fight money…

The waves settled into a smooth roll on the water surface as Hachi’s brain completed its reset. Soon enough her focus tumbled back into reality and on track.

Where was she?

Ah, yes. Alas the only weapon she owns at the moment is the Splatana, so she does not really have a choice.

Maybe going for the high damage slice is better than trying to splat him at a distance, thought Emperor will be on guard due to Surume’s trickery. Infact, might already have caught on that the Splatana is able to be used for melee combat. 

Opposite of the great blue, the blood of Inkopolis began to rouse, its streets slowly becoming livelier, along with its litter, which too seemed to be bouncier. A Inkling got into a fight with a plastic bag as it flew by and got caught on their shoes. With aid from its airy benefactor, the shell-white trash continued to harass its victim, catching an arm with its handle openings.

Those projectile’s seemed to be created by some sort of focus air compression? Something air related from the striking of the pressurized gas cans. Despite its partial ink make up, it looks more air than ink and will probably damage anything in its path, including teammates.

Hachi could not help but fear if there was even more potential to those projectiles that Emperor had conjured, he seemed the type to refine niche skills in order to maximize chances of victory.

Straight ahead sourced the direction of the duel between the duel-Dualie duelists. Hachi took a mental step back for a moment to not think about what is already here. What is *not* there is the thing she should worry about.

The second leader did not join up, but eventually, they had to show themselves. Really, it had to be soon. Emperor had already almost got splattered once, chances are that he would need the aid, much to the dismay of his own pride.

Breathing in one last time and after taking one long look around the calm storm, Hachi dove off the edge of the platform into a pink puddle pooled in the pit below and swam upstream and up the wall toward mid.

She climbed the second wall to reach the highest ground, her eyes caught a glimpse of a few of those discs floating through the space as Surume dodged about in a very minimal manner. Soon after disappearing behind the corner as more gunshots and sonic booms polluted the soundscape.

One last surface. Making sure to skip the step where she would need to walk on top with her heels, Hachi dropped and peeked over the ledge to see if she could get the drop on Emperor.

Before any real assessment could be made however, behind all that noise, Hachi had a gut feeling she just heard something from behind. Not again.

An internal engine kicked in and spun her around a full 180° to automatically place her Splatana in front at the ready to swing.

There stood on the opposite side of the floor was the final whitecoat standing there. Weird, it is like he was waiting for her to turn around first.

Contrary to the other 2, this introduction was not very flashy. All he did to the confused, yet still on guard opponent, was a small polite bow before speaking in a slightly shy volume:

“A king's blade is not just for show,”

His bow then morphed into a stance of the usual ready position of a Dualies user, employing his custom pair of those decorated ivory Splat Dualies. The closer of his opening had his voice speak a bit clearer and with a bit more confidence.

“Please come at me with your full strength.”

Prince

Emperor Clan Co-Leader, Brother of Emperor

Did she spot the tiniest wince blink across his face in his first sentence?

The lack of a big show about it immediately jogged her memory of Prince. He was the only one who did the polite thing by showing a little friendliness before the match. 

As much as Hachi wanted to give the same respect back, seeing how he was this close already, all she wanted to do was to put an end to him quickly while she still had the element of surprise in the form of her Splatana.

Lucky for her, he was not wasting any time, Prince pushed forward, initiating the opening fire.

Capable of melee combat, she decided to run forward to meet him to get a swing ready. 

Hachi reached far back behind her and released all that potential energy on course to strike straight through Prince’s body, as she suddenly dashed forward to try and close the last bit of distance, or so she thought.

*fyuu*

Prince swiftly sidestepped, saving his precious rolls, moving towards her flank as she twisted uncontrollably like a puppet on strings, its threads thrusting her sword arm almost completely behind her.

The direct product of overswinging. Even the complimentary projectile flew off into a random spot on the unthinkable wall.

Was she too slow?

Ie, putting too much money on his ignorance and none on his instincts.

A hail of ink came crashing down onto Hachi, the first few ink drops causing her to yelp as it began biting into her flesh, her muscles and hands clenched up in pain.  

*pshk!*

Before she knew it an abrupt force tugged her arm with the strength of a miniature rocket, ripping her out of Prince’s sights with a graceless 1 legged balancing act.

Realization hit her harder than the force it took to pull her entire body, how could she be so foolish? Surume’s Dualie was still in her left hand! 

*pshk!*

In the period Prince had yet to adjust, the cold touch of the Wiper’s squared tip grazed just on the surface of his chest as Hachi turned into a helicopter blade, leaving but a tiny dot in its wake.

No time for punishing her missed attack either, as she covered it with a hail of wild pistol fire, forcing him to back away as both aimed their weapons at each other, both barely outside their effective ranges. 

“...”

“...”

Carefully, the 2 fighters walked counter-clockwise mirroring each other, occasionally taking a bigger step to avoid a puddle of hostile coloring.

Second by second, their ink tanks refilled to max as both tried to figure out what exactly each other’s chosen weapon style would entail and how best to avoid the worst of it.

                                                             *pat,*

                                              gu-                          *pat,*

                                     cha                                              *pat,*

                              gu-                                                            *pat,*

                                    cha                                               *pat,*

                                              gu-                          *pat,*

                                                             cha

A white flash hits her flinching eye as a small bit of a golden reflection akin to lighting as she realized something last second. 

If she was him, he should attack the moment when-

Milliseconds the moment her heels made contact with the floor exactly where the wood ends and the grate bridge begins, the metaphorical sensors in the air around her began to tense..

*HISHHHH!*

Prince discharged onto both gas releases at once with much conviction, sliding his low profile across the floor straight to Hachi as a flurry of droplets flew up at Hachi.

A burst of ink just barely missed her as she hopped back, retreating onto the metal grate hanging just over the 2-fish battlefield filled to the bream with indiscriminate projectiles with enough speed to snip a tentacle or 2.

Not one to back down, Prince used his second charge to close the distance one last time, this time forgoing ink and crouching down for a physical leg sweep.

She would not make that mistake again this time however, as she stabbed the Splatana into the holes of the bridge, stopping his legs in its tracks with its plastic frame. 

With limited movement, Prince sought the aid of his mini-shooters again. Without much choice, Hachi drew back her Splatana and fled under the cover of her own violet volley and disappeared around the center mast of the ship.

Void of line of sight, he gathered himself for a moment before continuing to trail his target on the thin walkway. It was risky walking in blind but it was either that or go through the active warzone just below, he couldn’t risk letting her have even the tiniest chance of getting a potential jump on his brother.

He walked forward, guns up, listening carefully amidst the bullet hell for the clomping of those metal heels. With some measured aggression he crossed the first third of the circle with no sign of-

“BEHIND!” His brother called out in the nick of time, still clashing with his own issue.

*FHWP-THUK!*

Bits of liquid from a whistling splash tickled his forehead as he ducked, nearly tripping forward, under Hachi’s Splatana, striking right against the hardwood backdrop.

His mind went blank as the ripples of alarm ran down his back, blindsided with her sly nimbleness in that kind of footwear. 

Hachi “pulled” herself forward as she pulled back her Splatana, leaving a velvety “cut” on the aged wood, as she spun closer to the vulnerable Prince for an opportunistic strike.

With what little power his stance had, Prince dismally turned and dropped on his back in time to see Hachi’s intense glare as a cold touch could be felt grazing upward his face, eye miraculously being spared.

Back to the floor, he did what he did best: fight. 

To him it might as well be life or death, he tried whipping out his pieces, only for Hachi to give them a boosted left hook pistol-punch, knocking one out of his hands, bouncing against the wall and down into the pit below.

As she did this, she quickly dumped her own pistol at the same and prepared to strike Prince down with a sure to be lethal 2-handed hold on her Splatana.

Disappointment would be the one that would end him, not the opponent preparing to give the finishing slice. No way would his brother trust his skills in leading his team after such a foolish blunder, right in front of his very eyes no less.   

*BRSHK!*

*ZZZRRR! *

Cleaving into the dark tiber, a pale yellow saw blade found itself perfectly in between the 2 inkfish, pinning the Splatana to the wall for just a moment.

Through the savage winds ripping around his ears near the sonic blade, could hear Emperor only with a quarter of the amount of pomp shout out:

“A true king never abandons their own!”

Retaining enough momentum to stick around long enough, Prince got his head back into the game as he prepared to open fire on Hachi with his remaining Duelie in a blast of splinters and dewdrops. Out of the corner of his eye, a yellow blur guided itself from the other side of the map, taking advantage of Emperor’s lack of attention for just a moment.

*BANG!!*

*pAng!*

Not eager for a repeat, all of his 5 miniature limbs gripped tightly onto his Dualie as it was jerked away from its target by a purple colored wax, its remains slowly melting off the cloudy frame. Unable to really able to leave or attack the 2 Inkfish just silently gave wary looks at each other in with underlying layers of resolve, then turned to face the ones below.

A disgusted Emperor gave a visible deathgrip on Surume’s arm which was hovering just over his left shoulder, smoking pistol in hand. At this distance anyone could see his fingers digging into their flesh yet Surume remained completely unphased still wearing that fearless smirk, missing their glasses.

“Tch, you’re faster than you look but not fast enough. Give me a reason why I shouldn’t twist your arm into licorice.” 

“Well, you wouldn’t get anything tasty out of it, I can tell you that much. Just wanted to drop in here to see which one of us is the better shot, seeing how we couldn’t finish our little shootout just now.”

“You say that there is any other answer other than me. If I was you, I would’ve only needed one shot to end the battle.”

“Yeesh, are the rest of your teams as boring as you? Think I mean shooting each other? Is your favorite breakfast plain white bread with a glass of water? We’re gonna play a fun gallery game, our chips are also our targets.”

“...”

“It’s easy, we stand here and shoot at our teammates and whoever gets the most hits wins!”

As Prince was processing the confusing scene folding out in front of him, he snuck a glance at Hachi, and ooohhh boy it might be for the best if he didn’t try and resume their fight right away. Her pupils had dilated into nothing but plates with a single dot of deceptively mild looking hot sauce right in the center, it could be the sparks of a flame that fling out from behind her sockets.

Emperor stayed silent not rejecting the idea completely,

“Are you really that idiotic? I won’t be caught with such obvious ego bait, he can’t afford to be splatted even once.”

“I know, I know, if you turn Hachi into 2x4s then I’ll drop my weapons and fight you with just my plain 10 digits.”

“Hmph, and how do I know you won’t just shoot me in my back or go back on your bet?”

“Ha! Like I didn’t just have you on a silver platter the moment you chose to save your bro! There’s no fun in snuffing out such a rare moment like that, ‘cuz I don’t imagine you don’t make those types of decisions a lot. 

Besides, gotta spice up that training regime or he might not be flexible enough in a chaotic battle.”

After a moment of silent thinking, Emperor silently took the his blade launching stance,

“Prince, don’t hesitate, you’ve trained with the best. The only ones that’ll be having fun today are the kings.”

That was a yes.

Surume holstered their other Dualie and reached into their jacket and re-equipped their shooting glasses. In the process unknowingly causing the shoulder of their jacket to slip off a bit.

Prince knew it was hard to get an initial read on Surume, but to this extent? Interrupting his initial plan to duel with their much more serious and respectable partner all by himself and having the Emperor deal with Surume?

This was the main reason he wanted to avoid fighting them. Even with the all rather *eccentric* people he had met before he truly couldn’t tell if Surume was messing around without even a hint of caution or taking things seriously beneath it all. The flabbergasted Prince’s thoughts tried to well up out of his body in protest only to simply accept fate, he usually didn’t go back on his promise.

At least his words did help Prince’s mind relax a bit, unlike Hachi’s partner.

Not reciprocating the same reassurance like Emperor, Surume instead chose to give Hachi a different kind of message in a weird slightly more unhinged voice unfamiliar to Prince,

“Sorry! Just trying to make this fun, next one’s on *you.* Anyway, hope you survive this, hehehHAHA!” 

Just being in a 1 meter radius next to an already capable opponent while their “teammate” increasingly aggravate them more and more continued to put him on edge. He mentally searched for a possible reason why, but he still couldn’t exactly put a tentacle on it…

“Ok,” he muttered to himself, “Time to focus.”

“Mm.”

Prince jumped a tiny bit and paused, turning his head to Hachi again, who didn’t elaborate any further. Not even so close as a twitch from her body while just being eerie silent. He considered for a moment to try and drop down to the ground or hide behind the pillar, but only if Hachi did the same.

Even with Wiper in hand she didn’t seem to have any plans of just striking him down right there with her Splatana nor escape to safety. If she really wanted to honor this impromptu game despite her quiet opposition, it felt right to follow along as well. 

Still,

He’s got a really bad feeling about this. No time left to figure her out though, as Emperor wasted no more time with any more downtime:

“Now, off your head!”

*BRSHK!*

Here began the cascade of sound that would drown even those high above the earth

*ZZZRRR! *

*BANG!!*

*BANG!!*

*BRSHK!*

*BANG!!*

*ZZZRRR! *

*BRSHK!*

*BRSHK!*

*ZZZRRR! *

*BANG!!*

*ZZZRRR! *

Bullet-hell, the sole words that could describe standing up on this target pedestal.

Prince tactically weaved and zig zagged as much as he could, blocking his eyes with his arms. All lessons taken from boxing from more youthful days. Unlike his brother’s sonic booms, the bullets were almost instant in their travel. Meaning he focused more on juking and minimizing damage than avoiding it all together.

Hachi reacted as well as she could against the blades, leaning and stepping away to carefully avoid them akin to a dance. Despite their noticeable movement speed, Emperor could send out multiple at a time without worrying about adjusting for recoil. She was waiting for that right moment in the meantime, the more she dodged the faster it arrived.

*BRSHK!*

A few poorly timed dodges ended up giving a few nicks on her person,

*BANG!!*

And obvious fakeouts took little chunks around Prince’s edges.

Surume was happily slinging away barely seeming to care about being in the lead.

Meanwhile Emperor was slowly but visibly getting determined with frustration. He started minimizing and optimizing his movement as time went on, making it a harder telegraph. Each blade pushed forward more conviction and calculated each strike. His pupils disappeared entirely from his eyes as they rolled up into his own head as the winds were starting to pick up as the spin from the Duelies steadily increased in speed, perhaps out of sheer will.

"Pale Determination,” or “Pure White Resolve,” The nickname given by Prince regarding the phenomenon where a person enters a completely empty state of mind in which all actions have been completely automated by muscle memory and are driven along a “pure white” road, nearly eliminating all flaws in the raw technique. Always being in ranked matches, it surprised his little brother that Emperor even trained a niche and rarely used skills like his sonic booms.

Before, the whirlwinds seemed to be centered around his forearms, however at this speed, both of his arms have disappeared up to the shoulder and been replaced entirely by a wrathful tempest hell bent on tearing anything in its path to pieces. If an uninitiated person was able to witness what Emperor was doing, they might have mistaken it for shadow boxing with the amount of punches he was chaining together with the goal of sending out a stream of miniature disks as they linked into each other. 

In the right hands, a player can turn it on and off like a switch and make snap decisions within those gaps, minimizing gaps in both gameplans and gameplay, making them incredibly difficult to defeat. Make no mistake though, one’s intentions do not need to be moral inorder to enter this state. It was a mode Prince had yet to master unlike the other member’s of tea- I mean Clan Emperor. 

Irritation was starting to take hold, he really didn’t agree with the feeling of being unable to end someone even when they aren't fighting back,

“Not dying beforehand was a mistake on your part, this is just wasting my time playing your stupid games. Now you’ll tremble before me as I show you the power of a god-king and end this once and for all!” 

That was worrying, even to Prince, who didn’t exactly know the extent of his wind abilities. He suspected, if he was autopiloting these movements now, he usually ends it with-

“PERFECT!!!”

*BRRRSSSSSSSSH!!!!*

Even up on high, Hachi and Prince could feel a sudden surge of air rushing past them, airing out Prince’s sweating back from under his jacket and causing Hachi’s eyes to squint just a tiny bit. A blurry ring formed in front of Emperor as his arms crossed once more, before a massive blast nearly deafened those in the vicinity and slightly rocked the ship with it. A perfect sonic boom.

What formed an almost solid sawblade of ink completely outspeeding his past attacks, tearing through the space between Emperor and Hachi at a breakneck speed parallel with the Y-axis. Holding its form was the wind twisting it together in some sort of elemental wrapping, not a single fleck of ink slipped from its form.

Added mass, added density, added speed, any opposing member, no, any*thing* taking this head on would certainly be split into two, especially such soft and fleshy material as Inkfish. 

It was even deadlier than Prince imagined however, as multiple horizontal blades followed rapidly behind it. 

Simply put, there was no way Hachi could dodge before it caught up in time. GG WP, Emperor really was putting in everything into proving to 2 strangers that he is the king even outside the rules, Prince couldn’t help but to feel embarrassed or amazed.

Everything seemed to slow down being near such a dangerous attack, akin to a bird in headlights. In this surreal state, Prince was thankful to be lucky he was to not be on the receiving end of his “super.”

As it came closer and closer to where he stood, he found the sawblade slowly conforming into a thin yellow line in front of him.

It was rare that Emperor was almost incapable of missing when he really focused his mind on it and Surume was still grinning ear to ear from the soundblast, so it's not possible that it was thrown off to aim toward him. Where is the rest of the sun shaped radius?

Every millisecond to its impact, a slight tug on the jacket sleeve from the gale surrounding the serrated discus as it got closer.

*ZSHYZZZZZZZ*

As the tugging reached its peak, it stopped instantly. As the wheel of death disappeared from view entirely.

That was it , he supposes, once he looks over, he’ll see 2 parts of an Octoling exploding from being splatted.

Abruptly, he watched as Emperor’s face shifted from his signature look of superiority to abject horror never seen before as Surume’s grin slowly morphed into a look of amazement and shock. In his years of fighting, Prince had never once seen such an emotional look on his brother’s face, it caused his heart rate to spike. Had he never had a chance to test it out on a player before?

Oh, wait! Maybe Hachi figured out a way to avoid the attack! But, if she couldn’t dodge, then-?

Prince’s eyes turned to his right to see no Hachi but instead a wall of blinding gold painlessly cleaved right into his shoulder. 

There, in the nearly impossible to see reflection printed on the yellow ink, an Octoling lurked, her expression muddled by the tameless air just behind a confused Inkling, with her hand gently placed on his back. 

Suddenly, in helpless shock, it was dawning on him what had just happened.

The ink started to dissipate, so did the yellow fog of war, revealing what it was hiding on the other side:

A nice cut of squid being grilled atop a multicolored flame, its oily golden ichor dipping into the depths of the fire as it sits there to cook.

More accurately: a squid’s right arm.

Prince’s arm.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14: Neon Sunset (Part 2)

Is this the real life? 

Second by second, milliliters and milliliters of yellow fluid dripped out of that chunk of familiar flesh uninterrupted past the black links.

Or is this just fantasy?

Even as his limb remained separated, it leaked no blood yet Prince’s world was frozen at this very moment in time unable to process what had happened or even if this was reality itself. If his arm was over there, why doesn’t it hurt? Not a single needle of pain could be felt where it used to be, but no signals from his brain were being acknowledged by even the littlest twitch of a finger.

It's almost as if he could pick it up and place it right where it originally was and it would be as if nothing happened. However, this assumed he would’ve still had any functionally left at all. Instinct couldn’t get through to him, not even his brother’s crying out his name carrying emotions so palpable it held a grander presence than his barrier breaking blasts.

Half a shot of excitement and quarter a cup of shock, Surume was fascinated by the reveal of Hachi’s ferocity.

Void of all chill, Hachi bumped past the dazed Inkling and snatched up the bone white Dualie barely gripped in his hand in a gamble.

This was likely the one time Emperor’s composure would be so utterly shattered, perfect for mounting an offense. 

Imitating Surume, Hachi flew against the open sky in an extended airburst allowed by Prince’s identically modified mini-shooter while in a controlled tumble to keep her motions ambiguous.

He barely regained his posture as Hachi began her descent right on his position. Wrath gripped his eyes and pulled them back far into his head as he leapt up to meet her with a well swung foot in the air with his Flash Saber.

*FSSSSHHHH!*

Unfortunately for him, Hachi had absolutely no plans on diving him right away. All he could do was watch in confusion as she flew right past him, not paying so much as a look. Winning was now secondary, her first real goal was much more appetizing at the moment.

A shadow from the resulting eclipse shrouded Surume in darkness as Hachi’s body descended overhead. To them, this moment alone was enough to give up her easy victory over the Emperor. No victory could ever compare to seeing this side of Hachi, a naturally razor sharp red ruby embedded with an unassuming grinded down boulder.

Even so, they couldn’t help herself from realizing at the last moment:

“Heh, this is gonna suck…”

All at once, the entire full weight of the Octoling came crashing down on Surume akin to a fleshy wrecking ball on a piece of calamari. If she had bones they would’ve been turned into sand, and this was a *mercy* by Hachi’s standards by avoiding a full-metal kick.

Still fueled by raw ire, Hachi scrambled to her feet with cat(fish) reflexes while her teammate was left splayed on the ground once again, long side facing towards her.

Holding back chuckles, their hand reached to secure their crooked glasses back in place as she watched Hachi wordlessly approach her head.

“Erhg, that really, eheh , hurts!”

Rather than waiting until he landed, Emperor tried to rain down fire from above before getting knocked out of the air as Hachi returned Prince’s property to him in the form of a jet powered spinning star.

Resulting collision broke what little stability he held as hard noise rang out through into the air:

*THUNN *

As the extra Dualie clattered onto the wet inky wooden deck.

Hachi had a moment to close the distance again before he regained all fighting ability. She could not let him breathe for a moment or risk him keeping that zoning advantage.

Looking over at her “pal” on the ground, she could not help but think about how small, light, and throwable Surume seemed. Promptly leading to a sudden urge to surface. For once the one technique she remembered since her memory wipe, would actually be perfect at this moment!

Hachi dived over Surume’s body, snatching the arm closest to her on the way over, using the weight and momentum as she landed on her own side, tossed them over her body like a living catapult in an improvised Yoko-wakare.

Moments after planting his boots on friendly ground in a dramatic superhero landing, he faced towards his opponent, seeing a ragdolling Surume flying right toward him.

The sheer difference in weight and build made this a special sort of plan solely usable on Surume. Hachi particularly loves this one because most of the move just relies on gravity instead of martial prowess, something Hachi’s was not the best at despite her efforts.

Emperor, in his talented adaptivity, of course deflected the projectile this time around with a powered pistol nozzle uppercut, launching them up for the time being in a rather painful punishment combo.

“Ow,” 

Surume both remained conscious and gave off no strong emotion during all this. Even their glasses had yet to fall off.

What hid behind the flesh screen was Hachi charging straight at him, Splatana in hand. Although not bound for him this time either. 

Boost-jumping to land the finishing blow, she aimed right across their still yellow-tuned torso and made the cleanest cut she had made so far before the peak of her arc.

Magnificent sprays of violent ink turned crimson as it blotted out the light from above as it erupted midair, equalling a firework’s pop as it cut off Surume’s mad laughter mid-slice, their spirit tormenting them both even in death.

He bore no witness to the sky concealed by bloody clouds high above, nor Hachi herself. Of course he already had a solution for this, in fact he had already begun setting up his own failsafe tactics during the entire assault.

“Now you’re just wasting energy.”

His arms reached out as their turbines whirred up again, tearing away at the red rain as a bit of ink disintegrated as they even grazed its aura, leaving Emperor’s clothes untouched and a every small sun shaped circle barely wider than his width around his shining boots.

As for the rest of Surume’s liquid “remains,” it splattered onto the wooden washing over the previous ink and the singular Dualie, creating a sizable pool of pro-Hachi ink.

Natural as pulling the curtains apart in the morning, he parted his arms forcing the veil into two and instantly being met with Hachi’s falling Splatana strike, barely deflecting it away with one of his protected arms.

A flurry of attacks were unleashed as she returned to the ground, each one being deflected by his arms as he made not a single step out of his circle as he took on a defensive fighting stance. 

*dink!*

*dink!*

The sound of a hammer tapping away at steel beams echoed into the oceans of ink and saline as Hachi tested his defense with weak but swift strikes from all different directions.

*dink!*

It was enough rotational power to cause her to bounce away lightly off its pseudo armor, the Gale Guard as Emperor names it. 

*dink!*

Tactically, Hachi utilized the space she had as she moved in all 3 dimensions around the little island he had made for himself, ( *dink!*) weaving in and out of swim form to get even one touch on his clothes from a variety of angles. 

All ink was ( *dink!*) set on keeping her melee onslaught well fueled for the time and in case she were able to make that key ( *dink!*) one-shot.

*dink!*

*dink!*

*dink!*

I get it, you wanted me to losing my cool in order to make a stupid mistake, (*dink!*) but I know exactly how your pea sized brain is going to work now. For believing (*dink!*) I’m as ignorant as you are, you deserve everything that's about to come next! 

*dink!*

Prince is stronger than most. If he hasn’t found a fix to his wounds already, I’d be surprised.

*dink!*

Deflect after deflect, Hachi had only enough time to observe Emperor’s eyes roll back into a creepy blank state. Whether it is practical or cosmetic has not been obvious at this time.

*dink!*

Unsteady uppercut.

*dink!*

Limp left.

*dink!*

Feeble flank.

*dink!*

As the siege continued, the cautious Hachi avoided any committed moves, yet knew at this rate she would lose this battle of attrition if she kept using all this energy to move around.

In her mind, she guessed he would be the type to not miss an opportunity to show off his superiority and would try to counter attack once he thinks he can predict her next move, so all it was now was a waiting game.

Still, it was weird how oddly conservative he was at this moment, not even any comments. 

*dink!*

*dink!*

*dink!*

“Hmph,”

*disnk*

*dishnk*

Such a prolonged battle of attrition was evergrowingly off the more attacks she invested.

*dissnk*

More she swung, the blurrier the surroundings outside this fight seemed to become. 

*dizszzh!*

It was not exhaustion however, Emperor himself was the most affected, overtime morphing from a pearl white Inking into a cloudy puff. 

*diszzSZshs!*

*DIsZZzZzz!*

And what was that noise?

*DSSSSSSSSSSSS!*

A sinister buzzing was continually gradually being brought forth from the clash’s soundscape louder and louder, to Hachi it was especially painful on her acute ears. Thinking was starting to throb her own brain and even messing up her breathing to an extent.

Was he trying to weaponize Hachi’s own sense of hearing? How could he possibly know about that?

*DZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!*

Its presence was very much constant and obvious now, almost drilling into her eardrums, with her one free hand almost moved to futilely cover her satellite ears, but at this time they would be much better suited for something more productive.

After her next swipe she has no choice but to make distance, otherwise her body and spirit might collapse and fold into itself in an attempt to drown out the sound. 

*DZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ splosh ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!*

Emerging from the pool, Hachi let out one last albeit forced attack at blob him with her Splatana, then to have the grim revelation strike as his gold eyes locked on, full of vigor and satisfaction, easily communicating his deadly pride beyond the barrier of language and words:

Checkmate.

A right fist at the speed of an E-liter's flesh piercing shot zoomed and spiraled right at Hachi’s head as she desperately tried to dip back into swim form in the milliseconds before impact.

It twisted inwards like a corkscrew during the moment the rotating Dualie caught his sleeve, snapping all its combined build up of potential energy via slashes into one tiny spot of pure distilled retaliation.

“Here’s the weight of your own stupidity crashing down on you! ”

*FWOM-CRACK!!!!!*

And fly, she did. The air thundered as Hachi flew right past the outer edge of the magenta pool towards the middle mast pole, short of hitting her head on it. 

“No mere loser can stand before the full power of Emperor Hoz- Nhg! ”

Suddenly, a lightning bolt of pain afflicted his punching arm as fast as his own punch, touching what must have been every nerve inside his limb. A sore handle-shaped imprint burned especially bright against his ash skin as his hand twitched in pain.

Had he been a creature with bones, the insides of his limb would’ve been turned into hamburger from shattering force. 

“ Rrhg , what is this!? I landed a clean hit on her empty head, why does it feel like I punched a marble wall?”

One pissed glance over at Hachi seemingly collapsed on the floor gave him all the context he needed, as an all too familiar Dualie barely resting on palm.

“You-!”

Fact was that Emperor did for sure land a direct hit on Hachi, substituting her face with Prince’s looted Dualie in her left hand, picked up right before her intercepted attack. It merely being the first thing that she could put in between his 5 digits and her boneless brain carrier. 

A rush of rage, admiration, and worry flooded his mildly aching brain as clutched his tender arm, keeping a watch on Hachi’s still body lying just under the center mast’s walkway. But even after all that power, all that built up momentum, she still stirred. For a brief moment was all it took until she brought herself to a lethargic sitting position.

Didn’t it list her as a newcomer? Such quick thinking and endurance on her part is more than natural talent alone, but it’s not due to Ink Battle prowess nor that so-called training every Octarian was supposed to have (and was promptly disappointed by). 

Emperor restrained his own pain and painted a bridge across the purple pool toward the middle of the ship, walking across with uncharacteristic silence as he kept recoated as much land as he could while a watch on Hachi, remaining seated but had no trouble returning a very deadpan expression on her tilted down face.

It didn’t take an empath to tell she was visibly restraining her true expression as the gun shaped imprint smeared off her cheek continued to scald against the ocean breeze.

“Got to admit, you’re a bit stronger than you look. I’m no Steve Foxwrasse, but even from a glancing blow my punches should put the usual Turfling to bed, including those self-proclaimed ‘ex-military’ fools,”  he discerned as he paused short of the walkway’s umbrellaing shadow,

“Your neck isn’t thick with muscle like a boxer either, meaning all that's keeping you up is some rather capable cardio. So tell me, just what kind of gauntlet did you throw yourself into to give your body that level of endurance?”

It was beginning to become difficult maintaining this act of indifference, many more questions began to spring from that sapling of an observation than he wanted to admit. 

With altered ruleset matches, players struggle with adapting as they adjust to the new environment. Ironically, those scratching towards the top will make more errors resulting from their optimized muscle memory and habits if they are too out of their depth. 

But her? Looking back at her choices so far, as despicable as they were, were decent for on the fly planning, there I say it almost on par to mine. 

The longer he stared down at Hachi’s silence, the more those brown pupils resting on the surface of Hachi sclera felt like smoldering embers of a greater flame capable of bringing down a great sequoia titan, waiting for the right fuel to come along to ignite it.

Emperor had an air of familiarity with this girl’s spirit, similar to one close to him. One journeying across a vast forest overflowing with nearly limitless potential, one with the capacity to burn brighter than the very wildfire that originated his guiding breeze, yet still only but a tiny ember…

Muscles in his jaws clenched along with a slight furrow of his brow the longer he dwelled at the similarities. For once he might have another worthy opponent to potentially get him out of this plateau and they weren’t even respecting his strength, let alone their own!

“Along with your strength, willpower, mindset, even your own emotions,” Listing things off as he paced around the shaded circle, “All being held back, why? And don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I can tell even with mere glimpses of your true prowess, you’re no stranger to battle, why haven’t you gone all out yet?”

Slowly learning and unlocking their abilities overtime is part of the process, but even the mere act of going into battle without focusing solely on victory was basically an insult to the very concept of competing in a battle.

Emperor’s mental pot was beginning to really boil over and spilled out through that mighty demeanor of his, “What's the point of packing a sword like that if you aren’t even trying to learn how to use it?!” Nearly straining his throat.

“Why are you even competing in a cash battle if it's just gonna be another time killer for you? I know you can do so much better than that! Is going up against people trying to play the game and hitting your head against the wall over and over? Please, even those whelps over on the other side are giving it their all to collect the bounty, so why can’t you?! So grab your weapons and fight back!”

Complete deadpan reaction. Hachi definitely heard it through, seeing as there was a slight twitch in one tentacle during his burst of energy. Nothing else of note.

“Tch, fine,” he coughed, closing his eyes to mentally brush away his emotions, “You’re a disappointment. That's all I have to say. Feel free to give up and die then. If you aren't even going to put in the effort then I won’t waste my time with you either.”

A few more seconds of eye contact, then the Octoling girl lightly shook her head, and laid back onto the wooden floor as if taking a nap right there. Even after his invitation, he couldn’t help himself to witness this in utter disbelief at how this warrior chose to carry themselves.

No longer could he see the flames as the morning light casted the sail’s towering darkness over Hachi’s head as she stared up at the clear sky, caged behind metal links.

~~~

Funny, the way he was scolding her for not meeting his expectations almost made Hachi forget all the times she had been beaten, bled, cried, nearly killed over what she had gone through in the life of a soldier. The more and more she spent time in Inkopolis, the more it seemed filled in the spaces of her old life that had been robbed from her, as if putting together old memories with new pieces held together by golden filling.

What was that term for it again? Oh well.

Everything about Emperor (besides being an Inkling) was right out of Octo Valley. White “ gi,” harsh way of “teaching,” constant belittling, pride of a clan, speeches about being people being failures, casual speciesism, it is as if she never left!

Hachi even reverted back to her mental state crafted specifically to hide any potential emotions as he yelled, opting to empty her mind of all thought until it was over.

Though she had to use it so often, it eventually perfected itself into The Stare, the most optimal way of minimizing creating any more reasons for an instructor to yell at you even further. Had she stayed a few years longer, she imagined that emotionless look onto her face would have cemented itself permanently as the default state, but that is beside the point.

Giving up... The thought of accepting defeat was a bittersweet and luxurious flavor still foreign to her brain. It was such a small thing for an insignificant moment that meant its worth in gold to Hachi.

Usually if a student accepted the “offer” of giving up, it would result in a myriad of harsh punishments. From being forced to hold up to 8 buckets of water in a hallway to being kicked out from training and banished to the lower levels forever fated to be a lower class peasant.

Even after she began to travel to Inkopolis, all that was on the table was to either do or die. To be sanitized, executed, being turned into slush, drying out in the waterless canyons, or live to fight another day.

Nature is a cruel mistress.

~~~

As the gentle breeze washed over her once more, carrying a scent of rustic wood leaving a natural mild earthiness flavor on her taste buds as she took a long relaxed sigh as she waited for an inevitable finishing strike. The mast above perfectly positioned to prevent her from being blinded by the sunlight as she focused on the cage canopy.

~~~

Usually one would be severely irate over such words spoken at them, but Hachi could not help but to feel oddly unbothered. Both from being used to being shouted at and also because it did not carry any meaningful weight behind it.

Do not get her wrong, as much as she did not like him saying such mean things, he is truly a fighter of passion and was right about her lack of motivation. But that was all there was to it.

He really is not that different from her ‘superiors’, was he not? Except there was no title, no structure, no societal pressure pushing her into following his commands. Are they really that different?

At least Hachi had experienced first hand Emperor’s unique creativity and tactics. So proficient that it led to a chain of doubt about her own past.

Last time she heard, most of the Great Turf War veterans are heads of the clans. Those figures in her eyes deserved respect if the tales they tell of their battles were true.

However the ones that were usually scolding and shouting at her do not even seem old enough to be born during the Great Turf War. In hindsight it might be because their position was dictated by ability rather than clan birthright. Best thing they were known for was treating those younger than them as lesser.

That brain rattling fist unknowingly reverberated an idea previously unthinkable to a bottom rung foot soldier: Hachi no longer had any obligation to entertain people with demands out of simple notion that she should due to a theoretical hierarchy.

Most of her life up to this point was to follow orders for the Octarian Nation. Even the decision to leave was eventually forced into a deadly game planned by Kamabo. Co.

Such a familiar presence that he carried just reminded her of where is in life now compared to her past. It did not have to be like this.

What Surume did was cool and all but even with all the rather interesting moments Hachi had no urge to even try and replicate such stunts against such an audience, even completely forgetting to try out the idea of a fighting style a day before.

Taking part in so many Ink Battle games before realizing this, but perhaps it was not the battle itself loved. Maybe it was the simple feeling of knowing that winning or losing did not matter to her or anyone else is what was so attractive.

So, Hachi made up her mind. For once she shall choose the path, her own choice, willingly by her own hand.

Emperor did not like Hachi and Hachi did not like Emperor, so why spend the effort? What is he going to do, banish her from his clan?

One more final question floated to the top: was this all from a concussion, or was her “original” self always like this?

A very tiny smile etched as the great blue dissolved the black lines into nothingness as it went out of focus as the amusing thought crossed her mind. Matter it did not, it felt right to her, she is her own master now.

What joy it is, to reach the end of the story in her own way.

~~~

“This is so stupid,” Emperor hissed to himself in a mutter as he drew out a curling bomb from his kit, “Why am I the one feeling worse than before the game began?”

Closing one eye, he took extra time to perfect his aim on the should-be defenseless opponent. Right now, the salt in the air tasted especially savory, teasing the tang of victory.

He slowly twisted the lid atop the jet black circular bomb, setting off hundreds of tiny mechanisms within into motion, culminating in one heavy *click* as it armed the clockwork catastrophe.

*Click*

“Now, scurry back to where you came!” Emperor whipped around and hurled at the now magenta haired Surume aiming from the top of the perch on the purple team’s side.

Cyclonic Crown

Quickly striking it mid-air with a follow-up wind disc for velocity.

*BRSHK!*

Dodging a bit overdone so-

*BANG!!* *BANG!!* *BANG!!*

*pAng!* *pAng!*

*ping!*

Surume popped 3 solid shots dead on, knocking the bomb into the air. 

Too impatient for gravity, they followed suit with a boost jump as he shadow-boxed a suppressing cloud of smaller sawblades.

Grabbing onto the bomb’s handle, they crouched and descended upon the hail of discs sharp enough to rend flesh from on top.

Surume maneuvered and surfed through the storm, deflecting any projectiles in the way with the bomb shell, until they landed right along the edges of the perch and continued to grind on the grate bridge, perfectly mimicking a pro-skateboarder. 

“WOOHOO, YEAH!”

Even as the bomb began to spin at speeds comparable to a top, they kept themselves balanced and sent fans of bullets with each rotation.

*BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG!!!!*

Emperor regained that smirk of his as he closed eyes and deflected the line of bullets aimed straight at him with a simple block of the Gale Guard.

A mere few seconds remained on the ticking ink bomb Surume was hitching a ride on. Now along what little amount of space left-

*ssswsHNNNN*

With a tiny hop, Surume stuck a burst bomb under their feet and compressed all the might in their short build.

*PLOOF!*

Blast of the curling bomb shot them straight towards him as a living bullet as the Burst acted as an ink buffer.

“So predictable!”

He quickly side stepped and retaliated with a pistol nozzle uppercut aimed perfectly under the Surume’s jaw, regaining his usual smirk at the prospect of getting such a critical hit-

*whiff*  

Only to witness Surume “disappear” into velvet blur as his fist connected with nothing but air.

“Tricked ya!”

They shouted as the physical Inkling flew past a few degrees left of him and snatched the modified Dualie right out of the air.

Landing at the edge of friendly ink, Surume quickly lined up the business end of their slug-slinging Glooga at his back:

*click*

                                              *fwoom*

Both snapped to face each other as Emperor readied with a Gale Guard. No gunfire was exchanged but Hachi could tell he might have been a goner had Surume went through with the shot.

“Man, talk about losing their groove,” Surume said as they pulled back their shooting arm, “No wonder that guy gotcha into your new clothes, you’re just a bit too slow on the uptake.”

She had absolutely no idea what Surume said that was out of the ordinary but whatever it was it subtly shook him.

His face snapped into his usual smirk, except Hachi noticed the edge of his lips were a tiny bit higher than usual, like a net being pulled up to contain its catch.

“* koff * Do I, know you?”

An invisible bead of sweat rolled down his entire body as it started to recall very unpleasant memories.

“Nah, I just bother watch comp match replays,” They nodded toward the pale fruit as they hopped to change which leg stuck outward, “C’mon Eight, let’s dye that coat into a new color together, like a real (s)platoon before he gets back with his bro!”

As Hachi picked herself up, their opponent stood as a statue, not daring to risk the chance that if he made an objection about an honorable 1v1, Surume might elaborate further on what Hachi was woefully ignorant of.

She blankly looked at the petrified Emperor, then turned to Surume with those big eyes of hers:

“No.”

“N-No?”

“I will leave now.” 

“Wait, wait, you just gonna leave your fellow comrade hanging? Your fellow splatooner? Just like that? No thirst to get back at Mr. Showoff? Nothin’ at all?”

“I do not want to play now.”

Hachi resisted the temptation to ask for approval and therefore validation, she still has the undeniable urge to see their reactions before leaving.

This is where he kinda broke free of his curse, purely to close his eyes in disappointment for the second time as Surume took but a second to process.

“Ha, not what I was expecting but I gotta respect it! See Emperor, even those from beyond Inkopolis think your fit is an eyesore. Anyway feel free to hop away, I’ll be good.” 

Please, on her mental knees praying to the kami , do not fulfill that promise. If she is forced to interact with Surume ever again her cells might fall apart because they decided to somehow take away her adherens junctions and desmosomes for no good reason besides for a laugh.

They began light bouncing on the balls of their big boots, slapping against the inky floor with each touch, reminiscent of the footwork taught to Hachi in traditional martial arts. 

“Well, guess I gotta try a bit harder now,” Surume noted, before stopping to pose in a vaguely kabuki-like pose and motioning for Emperor to come at them, “Flap those wings and kick up some dust, chicken boy.”

Figuring it was time to go, Hachi wordlessly stepped away and set a super jump back to base to figure out how to leave. Preparing take off in her swim form, she felt Emperor’s glare brush over her, then speaking one last declaration before take off:

“This isn’t over yet. We’ll meet aga-”

*FWOOOOOOOMM!* 

“…”

“Aw, so close. If only you thought of that line earlier. Would’ve been real cool, man!”

“If you don’t shut up I will actually saw your head off.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Squidbeak Splatoon Databank Draft for Entry #21991:

“Kingfisher’s Guile”

A special pair of modified Emperry Splat Dualies. Only 3 sets ever been created, 2 of which are in the possession of family members within the company founder, and the last being broken when the youngest one first field tested it.

While its most noticeable change is the pair of miniature jet engines replacing the gas canisters, the most important trait is the slight conductivity of “spiritual energy” that is similarly used in Ink Armor and Booyah Bombs. Given enough proficiency, these pearly twins could create their own winds of victory even in the most lulled of battlefields.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There, right there. That ragged looking blob at the shore, on the stairs. Does that not look familiar, that pair of triangles constant flaunting of its colorful lights?

KAORI-SAN??!?!

*STCRCK!*

Metallic heels slammed on top of the spawn pad screen, nearly shattering it. Hachi hesitated , breathing in and out to take a moment to decide what to do next. Scanning the shore from spawn, a very tiny yellow-green spot caught her eye.

Was it hair? Frustratingly, the rest of the head was hidden by walls of concrete that were attached at both sides of the stairs. Not even standing on her toes was enough to clear it.

Was that Kaori-san? Who else dresses in such an rustic yet technological way? What is she doing here? Was she watching? Did she see Hachi in action? Damn! She should have fought after all! Now she might think she is a quitter. Someone as cool as Agent 3 would surely look down upon that.

A big sigh exhausted itself from her trembling lungs surrounding her beating heart. It was too late now. All that matters is the fastest way to get off this boat. Does she need to let Veligero know about this or is it ok for her to hop off? If only there was a button on her gear that she could press to immediately go home…

Well, might as well go for the ramp onto land. What is likely to happen is that he will come and seek answers, then Hachi can let him know and return the Splatana she had been babysitting.

As she began stepping forward, it led to a pause as a yellow haired inkling with a dangling strand of hair in front of a focused but nervous face hesitantly stepped out from behind the green tarped wall corner. Weapons in hand painting the minimum space for his legs.

Awkward silence passed where neither side said anything. One intense blank stare waiting for the other to say what he wanted to say. His face looked as if he was in the middle of a very delicate surgery, with one wrong move potentially leading to an unplanned amputation.

Hachi wordlessly tried to resume her evacuation plan once the silence reached 0.88 seconds too long, Prince responded by extending his right arm and summoning a Gale Guard around it.

“(Tch, ttaku…)” She muttered to herself as she looked away, then turned back, “I do not want to play,” with a more stern tone.

“Yes, I know,” Prince breathed out carefully, not daring to break his eye contact, “And I’m sorry. I usually wouldn’t do something so rude, but my brother rarely gets worked up like that. Last time that happened was…” 

He shook his head, explaining himself was more daunting than what he was planning to do.

“I’m rather competing for fun than superiority like he does, but I still want to show him I’ve gotten better, faster, stronger.”

Prince’s voice shifted slightly the more he talked, showing hints of awe struck he held at the Inkfish across from him,

“I’ve read about North Inkdia before online, you’re the real deal, aren't you? A real Octarian soldier. You’re not even that much older than me, yet raised to put your life on the line for the sake of your nation.”

He lowered his arm as it began to tire out along with the pseudo-armor lost its momentum,

“We’re really just athletes compared to you guys. Missing a limb doesn’t phase you, as long as you’re alive you’ll keep fighting, even dismembered if you have too…

I know I’m a joke compared to you, especially if I’m what’s stopping you from getting what you want. I don’t need to win, I want to prove I am worthy enough to be an heir to Team Emperor, then I gotta learn how to be on a completely different level.”

The small pure smile rekindled Prince’s awkwardness behind that strand of hair, “And you did cut off my arm, I can’t forget about that, haha.”

Okay, while most of that mostly went out the other other ear (as they say in Inkopolis), his emotions were clearly communicated to Hachi even if she was starting to get fed up. 

Shoving her palm on her forehead, she looked up to the sky in polite exasperation, asking the kami-sama themselves… Was this really necessary?

Fine. If he wants to do this then his level 12 adorableness safety privileges have been *fully* taken away… for the time being. Going to Kaori-san (Who is Level 333 with that lanky yet very explosive build of hers) as soon as possible is Hachi’s top priority now. 

While Prince did feel slightly embarrassed at the reaction, faltering any further he did not. At last, he gave off the best war-shout he could think of to kick off the duel between warrior and fighter.

“Here we go!”

~~~

A familiar slow twang of an instrument rang throughout Hachi’s ears again as Prince's talking came to an end and he began to take up his fighting stance, holding his 2 gun-toting arms in front of his face similar to during the bullet hell game beforehand.

*po-kuri!*

Hachi took initiative, tossing an armed Torpedo right at Prince’s feet, as she leaped into the air with a boost jump for a pincer plunging attack with the Splatana.

Realizing what was happening, Prince dashed up the tarped wall and launched off right at Hachi, colliding with her sword with his Gale Guard as the Torpedo flew off harmlessly.

As his Dualies snapped into place to catch the “blade,” the resulting eruption of yellow and magenta ink from the 2 weapons meshed together to paint an aura of a false dawning neon sunset in the air surrounding them.

For a second, Prince’s struggling determined grimace came face to face with Hachi single-minded scowl as the flash of colors left a gap in its blast.

                                                                                                          Prince

Such a high pressure blasted the 2 apart as they returned back to solid colorful wood, a few more meters apart than where they started, enough to stance up for the start of the real fight.

Well, “fight” in quotations. Prince’s game plan was obvious the moment he turned heel and ran from Hachi, shooting over his shoulder to cover his escape around the conder.

Cyclonic Crown

At the right distance, he would enter Gale Guard mode and strike his spinning pistols akin to flint and steel, causing a mildly noisy and not as satisfying-

*CRCk* 

To prevent her from peaking around the corner.

Compared to his brother, the resulting sonic blade was more of a plaster breaking cast cutter than a timber slicing saw blade. Could he even sustain it for long?

*CRCk* 

It was faster and harder to perceive, not particularly difficult to side step on its own nor block with the Splatana. Caution was warranted, after all it was a partially ink-infused “blade” with a lot of force.

*CRCk* 

*zzt* (“Kh!”)

Stings of torn muscle writhed around in Hachi’s shoulder. Had there been no ink essence within the attacks, it would not be surprising to find blood leaking from it instead of a gash of clotting ink.

*CRCk*  

While she appreciated the mutual agreement of no chatter during the fight, he is Emperor’s brother after all, and this zoning play style was getting really irritating to play around even without insults being hurled at her.

*CRCk* 

Every centimeter gained with each dodge added more and more tension to Hachi’s heated spirit, waiting for the gap to close,

*CRCk* 

A wave of unbridled fury awaited Prince the moment she got in range, for every step taken and every second spent in this fight that could be spent meeting with 3.

*CRCk* 

*CRCk* 

More and more he seceded more walkway turf to Hachi as she pressed onwards. 

*CRCk* 

*CRck* 

*Crck* 

“..!”

He falters!

The cyclonic booms were almost as quiet as a clacking of a spray can as he backed up to the edge of the walkway, his Guard is down!

Internal temperature grew further at the opening. Easily tracking it with her bare eye, a timed light swing covered underneath to prep her offense. A tactical mind shifted to one of pure action.

Ikuzo! [Now!]

Hachi ran right toward the final mini-saw blade, skimming the distance down to the last millisecond.

Suigetsu No Hakobi

Before stepping off line just right with a perfectly timed pirouette, Splatana braced flat against her back, grazing its frame on its shark toothed circumference with a-

*KRRRING!* 

A bright yellow spark showed for the brief contact it made, a formation of a newly shining star.

By the time she faced back forward, Prince was right in position to take all of her momentum.

She ruthlessly slammed it onto Prince’s arms as he desperately attempted to hold ground with his drained Guard. Even as the projectile broke apart with contact to the wind armor, it knocked his arms away from his body similar to a bat to a piñata.

Panic set in as Prince critically backpedaled away from Hachi’s swings, moving closer and closer to the edge as she fished for that one hit kill.

Tip of the sword constantly catching on to his arms instilling more fear over time as the ill disciplined swings put the Inkblades into the floor.

As he tried to step back, Prince felt his heel sink from the cliff edge, instinctively forcing his eyes back to see the perilous fall.

Nowhere left to go. Move forward, lest he drop down and give her enough space to abandon ship.

Turning back, Hachi almost caught him with an unexpected thrust at his head, black frame brushing under his ears as he barely tilted his head out of the way.

Prince swore he witnessed an ethereal aura of a deep crimson rust flame radiating off the Octoling’s entire upper body, as if to represent a massive fire very capable of lashing out scorching lessons to permanently etch onto his skin.

Surely he was seeing things in the heat of the moment. Still, every wrinkle of his brain urged him to get away from Hachi immediately, but it was exactly the type of instinct Prince needed to overcome if he wanted to lead an fearless team to its full potential.

He weaved under the danger as she transitioned to a horizontal swipe and maneuvered left toward the fighting pit, one gun painting where his feet needed to go.

Desperate to make space, Prince let go of his reservations on contact and jammed his pistol nozzle right into Hachi’s side, expecting to push her back like Emperor’s Flash Saber kick. 

Big mistake. 

He felt his entire arm bounce off without so much as a flinch; A lacrosse ball to a concrete corner.

Worst thing Hachi felt from that was a mild loss in wind and a rushing surge of retribution, which is exactly what she enacted.

A pair of cracking embers locked his eyes in the split second he could register the results.

“Crap!”

Hachi completely blanked on her weapon as she recklessly rammed her entire body into Prince, nearly knocking him and herself down to the pit of combat, along with the pitch in the “music” in her “ears”. Hissing a slightly lower tone as the Inkfish got tossed around by gravity.

*THUD!* (“Mph.”) (“Rhg!”) 

That impact dazed the comparatively green Inkling even without much damage and left him reeling as he attempted to get back on his feet, automatically shooting a small island of safety for himself. 

Of course Hachi being (concerningly) experienced with falling off dire heights, she rolled with the fall, right on a fortunate friendly spot from Surume earlier. What she failed to account for however was how to fall with a sword-type weapon, accidentally uncomfortably rolling onto it a few times.

All seemed well at first until she moved her weapon hand to prepare for an attack and noticed a change in its feel.

Her eye scanned the lended weapon and immediately noticed a segment of the sponge holder at the tip had seemingly snapped off,

No, not snapped,*detached.* There were no signs of damage. It was designed to do that, but for combat or maintenance? It slightly wiggled around a bit with the foam keeping it from falling further off, like a piece of meat hanging on to a thick bit of mussel.

While it almost felt more of a flail than a sword, luckily it was not too free to move around, meaning it would not be too much of an issue to fight in that condition. 

So, as they say in Inklish:

‘Screw it.’

‘It’ being the idea of avoiding fights without full knowledge of your capabilities. Hachi charged forward and hopped atop the stray friendly spots to conserve ink. If needs to, she will knock him out with a few good whacks if it means getting to leave faster.

Prince leaned up from the floor, trying his hardest to maintain the unstable Gale Guard against his arm’s wishes, and sending out one last deadly discus with as much as his limbs could muster.

*CRCk*  

“!”

Hachi braced the Splatana against her open hand as the air slicer flew straight at its soft edge.

Nothing was felt however as the air cutter met the weapon, splitting straight down the middle upon contact.

*pik!*  *pak!*

2 shards of formless shrapnel embed themselves into the wall behind her before dissolving, leaving large cragged gashes in the hardy timber without so much as a fray on the “sponge.”

“* Kah! *” 

Both hands nearly dropped to the floor in exhaustion as the pitiful momentum that remained started to really run out.

Hachi could notice a rather tender shade of pinkish red tint in his arms and hands with a glancing peek down his sleeve, followed by slight twitches in his fingers. The constant rolling of high speed plastic all around his forearms must have begun taking its toll.

At that moment Prince’s faith in the Guard broke as he boldly placed the guns back in his palms and started blasting to keep her away, forcing her to return “fire” to stay out of range and to address the damage the Splatana had suffered.

Swiping it did not produce an inkblade projectile but rather in a misty stream of magenta flowing outward the tip of the weapon, seemingly extending the “length” by a few centimeters and adding a colored trail reminiscent of a paper fan as it echoed the trajectory.

The extremely thin edge left sliced cleanly through the sunlit beads with none of the liquid splattering at all, almost like using a real steel edge in the rain.

Despite the space as it covered, it virtually had no inking ability, what little droplets there were got washed away in the gunfire.

Majika?! Perhaps Hachi should have stayed in bed the whole day and only come out to meet Marina-sama and Pearl-sama.

Hopping around her opponent from random splashes of violet to violet avoiding ink-fire, she hit the black frame in hopes of pushing it back, it was unusually stiff all of a sudden as the “music” hissed down a tone again.

Talk about divine punishment, if more unfortunate events keep happening to her she is gonna assume this window cleaner is a bad omen. Time to whack him with it.

*po-kuri!*

Tactical Torpedo: Go!

Dividing with one Dualie pointing up to get the missile and the other trained on Hachi was a futile attempt as she skipped around the much more available friendly spots fast enough to outspeed his aim.

*TSHH*

Decisively boost-dashing forward one last time, her upper back almost screaming as it burned as the siphon suffered exhaustion from its constant usage.

Arms barricaded with the wiper in front of her tanking the damaging but non-lethal shots.

Prince attempted to dodge roll out of the way unsuccessfully, foolishly forgetting Dualie dodges have no I-frames, punished with the entire Inkfish crash against him once more, Hachi at the advantage albeit he did learn to catch himself in a crouch during his tumble.

Tingling of pinpointing needles encompassed his body along with a stickiness as he toiled to stand up. A familiar feeling of being sapped of his bodily integrity.

“Ech! What? Green ink?”

Indeed. The mutually dangerous third team ink is where she decided to move the battle, with no room for him to run with her standing quite literally next to him it spelled defeat larger than ever.

*FYUU!*

He might as well be in the corner of the ring now, blocking that Splatata strike with his pistols delayed his very obvious fate as it dawned on him he had no more places to run.

It was then the mysterious tune within Hachi’s brain dipped at its lowest, so low it resembled a dangerous growl, bringing out that inner wrath from her spirit knowing how close she was to ending this.

*dsh!*

Buying time was all Prince could do with that one almost useless boost-roll backward that coated him more in pincushions, as she drove her legs forward and locked him into the clash again, pushing him further down to the ground. 

*dsh!*

Once more, deeper in the ink as adrenaline, resolve, and that sourceless sound dulled the ink irritation and empowered Hachi further as she ripped her legs away from strands of emerald, catching up to him and bringing the Splatana down again.

Violet ink bleed onto his previously unmarked sleeves as Prince struggled to think of a response.

All the muscles in each of their bodies mashed their inputs as fast as they possibly could.

She reinforced the top half of the blade with her open arm further overpowering him with sheer strength, his end moving closer and closer.

Tension of the struggle reached its peak when both abruptly forcefully drove their weapons away in the same direction: Prince’s left and Hachi’s right.

As both showed their shoulders, they took that millisecond to figure out the decisive blow for this opening that could make or break the fight, relinquishing all self-inflicted limits of courtesy.

🔼

Their eyes squinted in the moment before release.

*DUN!*

*DUN!*

Prince let out one last propelled punch aimed at her liver, while Hachi in a rare show of her martial training, followed the momentum through and let out a fierce steel-heel driven spin kick straight to his unguarded head.

*THDRRK!*

A disgustingly critical hit sound rang out as her stiletto out-sped his fist to his temple instantly knocked him out cold, drowning the tune down to a slow ring of piano keys

Prince’s body lingered for a moment upright until it would hold up no longer, falling onto his back onto the ink as the pupils of his eyes rose to set under the eyelid horizon.

`````

Wistful light reflecting off the atmosphere was rather straining, though nothing was able to act on the instinct to close them, not that he was complaining. Was it weird he liked a cloudy day more than a clear one?

If this was the last thing he saw, it wouldn’t be the worst view.

* thmmm*

Bright fluffy clouds continued to absorb the rays of beautiful sunlight as his consciousness started to fade.

‘Last thing he saw,’ hah, like he was actually going to die here. Guess it’s natural to feel he’d just died when fighting in such an unfamiliar way, even with no holds barred he failed to bring out that inner potential he hoped it would do.

The disappointment in himself was as prickly as a barbed harpoon. Following in his brother’s steps and taking a few fisticuff lessons in hopes to get as good eventually. As the games passed by both in the arena and in the ring, that sudden eureka never seemed to come.

There was a disconnect when it came to shooting opponents, knowing they’ll come back unharmed, knowing other interactions happening throughout the battle outside of his view that decided the game.

But all that is gone when it's a purely fist deal, no teammates to manage, no regenerating health, it was all up to him. Surely this was the same things his ancestor’s felt, the same ones whom Emperor could channel even in a competitive sport. If he can learn this then it would’ve meant he would be a better leader right?

The contact in each blow, you feel the energy of the other being given to you, injecting every emotion, goals, aspirations in a flash.

Her’s was of reluctant compliance, cuts of clearing a path to where she needed to go, not to slay (which she clearly did a lot outside of combat), and a strike aimed to push forward, instead of causing pain.

Did he manage to communicate all that he could to the world? Could he stand next to a real fighter and meet at an equal level with him?

There go the bright clouds, dimmed to more fit a spot on a window. Regardless of the size of the cloud, it reflected the brightness of the sun all the same, blending all those spots together.

Wrong question. That’s not what he strives to be, not a soldier, or a one man army. Losing is not a matter of life and death and it shouldn’t be. What would Emperor say?

‘Not all rulers need to be warriors but all must know how to command them.’

Was it more important for him to understand rather than how to put it into practice?

Myriad of questions formed amidst this ever collapsing mind, 2 questions could be answered in this time:

Would they entrust their future as a team to him? Did he really do all he could’ve done in this “life” so he can learn to better the next…?

No. Not yet. He’s already lost but he hasn’t pushed it to its very limit, he hasn’t experienced everything that he can. A soldier is not what he needs, a textbook is, so keep flipping pages. The chapter demonstrating offense is complete, time for defense.

Evening has hit now, nightfall hasn't come until later. The sun can’t set until it has given the full gaze of its light on his world!

`````

Stopping to collect herself, Hachi stared at the likely unconscious boy at her feet. Not the most exhausted she has been after a fight, but for 1 Inkling who likely did not have the amount of training she had as a child it was pretty impressive.

Tensed up hair strands relaxed and started to flop down, the adrenaline started to rinse itself out of her veins, as reflection and aches moved to their new homes inside her vessels.

Regardless if the bodily trauma was easily fixed by a respawn, it left her a recognizable bitter drop of displeasure. Yes, he was quite literally asking for it, yet it still felt wrong hitting a kid squid (Assumption derived from his adorable face). Call her foolish, but finishing off a pacified person was not an activity she wanted to waste time on.

Either way, it was finally time for her to take her leave, her siphon panged and the novelty of the Splatana was starting to wear off, she was not much of a close quarters person she thinks. Maybe it was a time for a full on break from any live combat, recreational or otherwise.

Hachi turned to look at the small pocket of space. That should lead directly to the ramp with a little hop over the railing. Starting the process of dragging her legs across the emerald plain, the ambience of battle lingered from the remaining players.

(plon, plin plin, plon)

Hold. Something did not feel right. With all the sound at first she thought it was battle noise, the longer it went on it was obvious it was rhythmic. Dissimilar to the erraticism of explosions and sonic booms.

(plon, plin plin, plon)

It was not obvious at first. Her tentacurls began inching their way up, preparing for an event she had not yet noticed.

A rush of dread filled her brain as she recognized the beat of a faint drum steadily speeding up, of which the source became apparent. All she could do though was start lugging herself faster as best she could through the gurgling acid.
*wwrgrrgrrrrrgrhrhrhg*

“ Ack!” 

Friendly ink would be under her boots with a few more steps. Now the tune had grown much closer, rising back up from its diminished state.

*clop*

Yes! 

*ssswsHNNNN*

No!

The slinking hiss of a curling bomb along with the resurgence of a somber and energetic piano caused the pigment at the back of her head to go a shade paler. Hachi turned back to defend herself as a full ink tank soared right at her face, obscuring the bomb distance and the bomber.

“Chikushō!” [Damn it!]

No intel and caught off guard; Pick the move that covers the most options.

*fwom*

She boost-jumped straight up a few meters, all her tormented siphon could muster, making sure to tuck legs under her to maximize height. Any more uses and it felt as like it would rupture, if that was even possible. 

It did the trick, avoiding both the explosive and tank from blinding her as it went under, along with a sliding Prince following closely behind it, his completely blank eyes making ‘contact’ blankly as she floated over him briefly.

Oh, I get it. 

He seemed to mouth to himself, his mouth muted,

That’s what that is.

Using that propulsion she clambered onto the usual grated high ground and started to make a break for it. 

Like *this!*

*FWOOM!*

This actually had to be a sick joke at this point. Hachi watched in irked disbelief as Prince copied her exact motions of a boost jump, complete with the leg tucking, to cut off the escape route she so badly wanted to take.

2 circles where he sees out of continued to be occupied by those plasma white orbs, with an unnatural stillness to him as he blankly stared.

No other choices remained, Hachi readied her Splatana without answer as the boy she presumed was Prince followed along, both Dualies wielded as a pair of jet-assisted tekkō . Time to put him out of the game the old (few weeks ago) fashion way.

Out of nowhere, he dashed forward, abandoning his previous ranged style!

Hachi responded the simplest way: A power swing, factoring she simply could reach him first with a melee weapon, meaning she can maximize chip damage, and take advantage of the lack of risk even if he blocked.

Her heart sank deeper as Prince gave another surprise by showcasing another mimicked move.

Cyclone Punch

*HSSSS*

Prince compressed himself, hunching over like that jack-in-the-box toy she heard about, boosting quickly spinning under her slash without even grazing his hair.

The dodge had not even registered in her head as a sharp pain compassed her caused by a hardy Dualie nozzle going straight into her torso.

*BAM!*

Combination of a one-two pushed her back amidst agony and began to move closer in a startlingly terrifying crouched stance. 

Is she even fighting the same person anymore? Where is this aggression coming from?! How does this fit this almost serene section of the song!?! That can not be normal Inkbattle behavior!!

Element of surprise was on his side. At least Hachi managed to put her Splatana in between her and Prince in time to reduce his damage.

Despite the hurt, it was nothing she had not experienced already. Still, there was no way she could grit through the strikes.

To left and right Prince stepped, jabbing to find an opening on the defensive girl.

*tan*  *tan* 

Finding very few spots to hit but not enough to open the gates.

His advantage started to lose its momentum but he was recognizing Hachi’s passiveness. 

As she prepared to block another hit, Prince activated his Dualie and committed to a full 360° spin punch, as a high speed emerald 2 line trailed the muzzle.

*DN- RCK !*

The snapping force invoked imagery of a shattered glass barrier as it devastated all barricades and left Hachi caught completely defenseless.

*BWRM*

Suddenly a surge of something only could be described as energy through the space around her. It was no grace of wind either. From her POV it briefly seized the flow of time for a second as Prince pointed a singular fist at her.

All complimented with a white miasma rapidly flying off his body. The edges of which were a lively verdant.

He opened his mouth to speak only to visibly struggle to let out any words. It was as if his lungs locked out air from entering or leaving their home.

After his oddly concerning hushness, he brought back his fist to deliver his heaviest blow so far.

Hachi helplessly watched as she mentally braced as Prince shot an arrow down onto her defenseless head in the form of his braced fist. 

*BA- BAM! *

All the reeling then caused an uppercut to connect, tossed her entire body up off the ground and soon made her return back down to ground (on the ship) level. 

At this time, the morning decided it was the perfect time for a sun shower as she haplessly plunged toward the ground, Prince hopping parallel after her. 

Perhaps this was a consolidation from the gods she had been hoping for. Outside of its brief refreshing feeling on her skin, the silvery baptization indiscriminately bathed the wooden deck from all good and evil, leaving a thin quagmire of diluted colors unfit for all manners of combat.

*DNSHSH!*

She did not know if it was the extra height from the punch or the moisturized planks, because that fall bounced her body back up like 2 meters off the ground as she hit the floor, her assailant landing in time to start dishing out pain.

*BAM!* *DOsh, Bsh. BASh!* *Bsh, BAM!*

For 3 seconds, Prince juggled Hachi’s body to the wall with a combo of jabs, hooks, uppercuts. Not once letting her touch the floor.

*Bsh, BSH!*

Eventually the hits inevitably drove her to collide against the ship wall.

Sliding back down to the floor she promptly rolled away as Prince missed a swing.

So, if she cannot hit his body-

*ZAN!*

Then target the legs!

An surreally clean slice drew right across the side of his knee as she did a drive-by cut.

A gush of both wine with a hint of lemon juice faintly followed the sword as it exited, spraying onto the rinsed wall. 

Gravity began its pull down while Hachi promptly rose up from behind and let out a swift kick for payback along to set up an attack.

Prince let out a swift kick (with his damaged leg) as he turned.

Ok, admittedly, she found the imitation kind of adorable. However right now it was making her engage in the fight instead of winning by pure mindless force. It was rather troublesome.

Both shins slamming against each other, but of course, she won the clash. Pushing his leg back, Hachi hopping back with a spin for space.

But, they both know strength is, well, not his strength at this point, right?

Which means he is likely to lead into another move! 

Jumping off the wall, Prince launched straight at her propelled with max power, turning into a Inkling-arrow with his fist as the arrowhead. At least they agree on Surume’s cool tricks.

*sha!*

Hachi “parried,” not realizing she had severed it again as it flew over her shoulder.

*omph*

Collar-to-collar the two collided without a focused point to topple her footing. No reaction to the impact could be felt from him, not even an exhale.

Even as the chaotic rhythms of the battle ensued she felt a moment of patience override her anger, as if the brunt of the tackle knocked the emotions out for a moment. Cold water tempers the glowing steel.

All of a sudden, a whiplash of inspiration cracked in her brain: The pour of rain, a readied Splatana in hand, as the energy harmonized perfectly into her ear as an intangible tune.

That move might work here. But what is the secret behind that spectacularly wide razor-sharp liquid arc?

Well, how else do Inkfish manipulate ink? Think Inkuāmā [Ink Armor] or Naisu dama [Booyah Bombs]. They sorta just *do* it at the height of the moment without ever really knowing how, maybe there is no secret.

The royal brothers are probably doing something similar with their discs with the canisters there for a propellant.

Focus the mind hard enough on one attack and see if it happens. Not merely swinging harder but making the cut the only one thought in the mind.

A rush of conviction poured through her veins, lighting many fibers ablaze as her senses returned to her.

Literally seizing the opportunity, she locked her open arm around his neck and whirled him around.

“orrrrrrA!”

And released and sent Prince right up into the air without any resources left to alter trajectory as the final preparation for the finishing cut began.

She brought her weapon above her head as her soul aimed true.

“Shōki!”

Feel the Heat!

Time once more seemed to slow around to a standstill as she channeled all that warmth together as much as possible, trying her best to capture the uncontrollable essence of a Booyah Bomb with the iron-like will of Armor, compressed down into one explosive motion.

Prince witnessed from the sky as for less than a brief second the Octoling’s eyes flickered a blaze bright enough to burn out sunlight. 

As a flash flood finally unleashed all that fettered spirit out as a crushing avalanche.

*THMMMcrkckrcrkrckkrkcrckcckr!*

One could be tricked into believing a volcano had begun erupting from beneath the ocean as the massive rusted, fractured crescent formed from the blade quickly erupted as a hail of a hundred hardened bloody carnelian “stones” shot out violently following the path of the swing.

*THACTHCKATHACHKATHK*

A volley of what felt like a firing squad of Chargers smashed right down Prince’s midline. The oversized red gravel was too dull to shred him to bonito flakes, but fast enough to embed and return to fluid within the flesh.

Not to mention the ringing ears, crushing the wind out of him, and a few cracks to his beak.

He almost cleared the wall going toward mid with all the kinetic force. Alas, after a few spins in the air he dropped to the floor onto his feet, far from the range of any attack either of them could make.

He staggered without comment to his severed hand, dropping one of his pistols to grab it, holding the stumps together with a nasty squelch as purple ink slobbered onto the floor from the cut.

But Hachi did not decide to move for an attack, for if what she had perceived properly from their handless-handshake was in fact the truth, she had already won the battle.

Mere moments passed along with his initial shock of the rocks. A few more seconds began the process of healing the colorful mini-craters trailing head to hip as it gradually began shrinking, his arm showing signs of mending.

For a moment it seemed that the all out burst of a bombardment was in vain as he stanced up again.

“......................................................................................................................................................”

*thud*

Prince wordlessly seized up and unceremoniously fell like a plank, completely passing out. The music faded peacefully along with him, as if it had no more reasons to start up again, until silence took back the center stage.

For a second she was worried she would need to get over there and finish the job, only for the damage to naturally run its course and overtake their unconscious host. A moment later his body ruptured and melted into a puddle of purple as his soul escaped the goo to retreat back to the spawn point.

With victory came a sigh of relief of all that tension in Hachi’s muscles.

Ah, the lapping of sweet salty ocean water sloshing up the side of the boat. There was no distinguishing the city noise from the battle sound anymore, it all blended together to cancel each other out to produce a mixture of white noise. Gone with the wind, along with mysterious music. Strange, a fight is still happening not far off but she had the need to take her time to feel the tasty air enter her lungs. It could not hurt to take a moment before leaving.

Speaking of which, she never thought she would actually see someone forget to breathe to the point of passing out, especially in the middle of a fight.

That spray of “rocks” from that Overdrive (name work-in-progress) attack was not exactly what she had hoped for but it did help pacify him by taking away the air stored in his lungs. 

At first his odd silence seemed to be a result of heightened focus but the moment she made physical contact she could tell he did not have a breathing pulse. Where did she get that knowledge? No clear memory comes to mind, but seeing how she vaguely remembers hand-to-hand training it is probably latent knowledge from all that.

Seriously though, if her guess was completely wrong, she was seriously considering the embarrassing option of throwing a tantrum by ceasing all action until the timer ran out.

Well, it was actually time to leave, for good this time. who knows if some other combatant wants to challenge her on the way out.

Chapter Text

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

A recognizable distinct masculine voice abruptly interrogated out from behind without so much as a footstep or landing at all to indicate his arrival.

Taking a silent worn breath, Hachi turned around to see Veligero standing there at the entrance to the boarding bridge that she was already half way through, holding what seemed to be a long, slightly curved, hollow, midnight tube in his left hand.

Automatically defaulting to Inklish due to his opening question, she stated as straightforwardly as possible:

“I want to go.”

“Go?” He scoffed, “You’ve barely scratched the surface of what you’ve just discovered, yet the moments the fruits of those efforts begin to bear, you’re going to leave it all behind?”

“...Yes.”

His head tilted down a bit like a turret taking aim on an exposed trooper, aiming down the sights of deepened eyebrows. An all too familiar look. Such a small motion caused her anxiety more than she originally anticipated.

“And, may I ask why?”

Hmmm, her mini-self realization that occurred during moment she nearly blacked out that related to her very spotty memory of her childhood that was also caused by a severe head trauma weeks ago should be an acceptable reason if she articulated it well enough would be a great way to minimize awkwardness and lead to an easy understanding even with her lack of fluent Inklish.

Hachi’s lips barely parted for her explanation, when a jam in the mechanism was discovered between her brain and mouth, the latter refusing to perfectly discharge the loaded ammo no matter how hard she spammed the trigger pull.

Instead, a misfire occurred. A precisely armed cannon popped off without instruction, finding itself completely missing the target.

All in all, here was the extremely satisfying Veligero received:

“Ah, eh, I do not, like this game?”

She readied her mental defenses, expecting this razor-sharp gaze to explode into a fiery rage as they usually do, catching a glimpse of a sneer as he faced away in disgusted disbelief.

This was not to spare her feelings, even as a complete stranger she could tell this, but rather to wrangle his face back to a calm demeanor in a presentable manner.

Then, she could almost hear a *click* as he turned back with that slight raising of his brows. As if he realized the clockwork gears of the inner machination discovered they could shift and continued onward without this cog.

“Fine, do as you mayy. I don’t need to waste my time trying to figure your indolent excuse of an explanation as you’re already a foot out the door. Do at least stand by so I can announce the end properly.”

She hesitantly stepped back with suspicion. It was painfully obvious he had a few words about the matter. Was he going to change his mind at the last second? Because she would rather keep eye contact if that was the case.

Sensing her uncertainty, Veligero did a little hand motion of shoo-ing her away, making the to official end of this conversation.

Like a bot, Hachi automatically resumed her original route of crossing the bridge. Wait, she nearly forgot to return his item!

“Chotto-” Snapping 180° back around, “Eh?” 

That man vanished without a trace in less than 2 seconds. Right, she forgot this weapon is mildly cursed. Thinking about it, there is a non-zero percent chance that he is actually a spirit inhabiting the sword and haunting her. Is it too late to cast it off a cliff?

~~~

“*ssssssnaaaaaaa*”

Wheezing of a slumbering beast rumbled behind the concrete wall. Never in her life had Hachi ever expected to feel like a frozen fish in a grocery store from snoring alone. No, she can do this, step around…

Peeking her face around the corner, she caught a glimpse of the ragged creature, arms crossed and sleeping. To think such a dangerous being was there right on the steps in the middle of a public space. The 2 obvious ideas surfaced:

Wake her up?

“*ssssssnaaaaaaa*”

Or let the sleeping squid lie?

A pair of passers-by paused to observe the strange scene at a distance for a moment, a tunnel visioned Octoling with a fierce expression wearing all black stuck out like a shadow in a desert as she watched the Inkling from behind cover.

Some might think she held a mixture of fearful and resentful feelings for someone who had wronged her.

They had not to worry in that regard though, little do they know she had already bested her and a harder version she had made up within her own mind, which of course is the best basis for reality.

“*ssssssnaaaaaaa*”

And while visible “displeasure” was just her natural expression when mulling things over, the dread was real, but not out of waking her target.

No, the true dread is what comes after, or rather the lack thereof.

Hachi had no clue what to do once Kaori-san had awakened, which annoyed her because it was her own idea to bring herself forth to her.

To be honest she did not really want to talk either though, not out of animosity, quite the opposite. Being around her in her presence was all she really wanted, that alone makes her feel indescribably… comforting?

“*ssssssnaaaaaaa*”

Like metal turning red hot as it naturally snatches up flashing bolts from a nearby electric coil whether it wants to or not, with the sole cause of the phenomena being proximity (and many other factors, but it is common practice to not think out metaphors).

However, unlike her, most people tend to not like having silence when around familiars. They seek to fill it with anything, otherwise it will be labeled as *awkward silence.*

Should she just put her arm around her again like last time? What if she was ok with that purely because it was cold out? Too risky; take it slow, but other than that she was out of options. Ask her about the game, but was she sleeping the whole time? It would be another conversational deadend!

Sigh, there is no possibility the leader of an entire organization would find lack of social ability attra-

* Agreeable ,* for company. Oh dear, what shall she do?

“*ssssssna...............*”

Hachi breath waited in sync for the second half of the snore to drop. One second, two seconds, three seconds. All the tension hijacked her senses as a horn of life to blare.

“*...............SNAAAAAA*”

Until the dams of her nostrils could not hold the air out any longer, the resulting obliteration scaring away the nearby birds along her watcher’s buildup letting out a synced sigh of relief.

But with her mellow came her awareness. Spotting a shadow at her feet and a sense of different temperature at her 6 o’clock, Hachi had the overwhelming sensation that someone was right behind her!

There stood Surume hovering centimeters from her back, looking over the shoulder at Kaori alongside her. Jacket fully zipped up no less, with the guns in their leathery holsters around her waist, and funny glasses nowhere to be seen.

“Mmmm~” She said, with a massive smile growing across her face in full view of the stunned Octoling, “I was supposed to fetch you for one last thing buuut I can leave you to your very important *duties* if you like.”

Hachi quickly grabbed her by the shoulders, turned her around before her embarrassment had visibly risen up to her face, and began making way back to the ship while pushing her “ally” with her as she walked.

“Alright, alright. Don’t worry I won’t say a word to her when she’s up. Oh yeah, did you hear anything while you were fighting?” Asking with a turn of the head, discovering a glare so deadly that could burn a hole through her face.

“Hey, haha, when did your eyes get so steely? Are you mad about that wager I made with Empy?” 

“Mm.”

“Ah, well, sometimes I get a bit into it. Wanted to beat him in his own game, y’know? But it worked out in the end, didn’t it? So really it was the optimal move if you think about it.”

“ ... ”

“Alright, being serious here, if how I played is what made you want to leave then I am actually sorry. Tell me next time and I promise I’ll stop doing it.”

“Ok.” A chilly response for an apology. Surume was unsure if Hachi actually accepted it, pretended to accept it, or straight up didn’t care. 

One thing is for sure, she didn’t want to piss off the trained soldier escorting her off the premises from behind any more than she might’ve already.

“...Sure.”

Fortunately for her they quickly caught up with the gathering for the official premature ending for the game at shore where the boarding bridges exit out to.

The sun had kicked off from the watery edge and had begun its climb to the top of the sky, the journey just starting.

Excluding the Emperor team, a scattering of random players (one speak for the rest) had also started getting into an argument with their host.

“Hold on, it’s over already?”

“Yes. The game has been canceled due to a lack of balance between the teams with the absence of a specific fighter. Now if you don’t mind, I have other things to discuss.”

“But you haven’t paid us yet!”

Without so much as a warning, Veligero turned toward him and flicked something right out the inner fold of his coat.

S huriken?!

A brown blur shot past the head of the “leader,” by all the bystanders, and surgically beanbag’d the back of an inattentive Inkling’s green bowl cut.

(“* blehg-*” )

*CSHkikcnclinckcilniklcnicin!*

Toppling them over as if he threw a brick. The bag exploded into a shower of cold hard geso all over the floors, all glimmering as white arrows were embedded on its surface.

“There. Bounty paid in full for 1 kill.”

“Huh? That’s it? That’s not enough!”

“Such a fool. If you paid attention when I was talking, you would realize the rules stipulated a reward for each splat against the purple team.”

The longer Veligero went on, the closer he stepped closer and closer to the “leader,” making them back away nervously while trying to maintain their anger.

“Did you honestly believe you’d be rewarded when not a single person on that team managed to get a single kill on the Emperor Clan? My apologies, but go seek out the Squidforce games if you want to be a deadweight to everyone else and get paid. I only give bands to those who earn it.”

He was right up in their face at this point, looking down at them with his height advantage. Here Hachi was able to notice how his back stood completely straight without additional swaying movement.

Solid and exceptionally balanced posture, a very rare trait even for the army. The deadliest and most elite tend to have a constant rhythmic swaying while maintaining a bit of an arch to their back, not once breaking form no matter how long she watched. Not that she did that of course.

“Now, enough of this farce. Leave, seek employment if you need cash that badly. Unlike some people, even someone as illiterate as you can find a job in this economy.

That is, as long as you manage to do the bare minimum and not lose your diploma from highschool, assuming you actually graduated that is. Maybe then you’ll come to understand what people do to a parasite when it channels its greed through its unwilling host under the guise of need.”

While the Emperor team (minus Prince who remained watching the crowd) stood tall and proud with very mild off-handed praises, she could not help but feel bad for the other players.

Did they kinda do nothing the whole game? Yes, but while not entirely understanding all that was being said, seeing the increasingly dejected expressions on each of the younger players as he went on needed no words.

Witnessing a particularly younger looking player in the back stifling a sniffle in the back of the crowd caused her own eyes to go foggy for a second.

“Fine, whatever. Freaking tryhard.” 

As the bitter argument came to a close, the people began to disperse, a few worse off than in the morning. Some were already forgetting about the whole thing while others started to dramatically look out into the sea. It really was not that serious.

“Crap,” Squidkid Jr. exclaimed loud as a notification popped onto his phone, “Imma head out now if that's fine.”

Shortly after his phone rang, so did N-Pacer’s.

“So am I,” She added, barely glancing at her phone and slinging her rifle onto her shoulder, “We’ll talk about next practice later. That’s ok?”

Emperor remained as talkative as a vanity statue, but instead glanced to Prince who took a moment to remember his role after wiping his eyes.

“Oh, yeah. See you guys later. Um, good work guys, you all did great.”

And while his voice had trouble conveying the energy in his emotions, that simple smile of his was enough for his 2 comrades to return the favor.

“One more thing,” Jr. stopped short out of conversation range, along with N-Pacer for some reason, “Prince, please, can we please go back to ‘Team Emperor’ and not ‘Clan Emperor?’ It doesn’t hit as hard, this is like the one thing I will call Emperor out on, that was not needed.”

The elder lips curled inward as the younger agreed very earnestly, “Hehe, yeah, I don’t want to redo all the usernames and registration either.”

“Cool! Aight, see ya!” And with a wave they were off.

There goes Hachi’s chance of ever talking to Pacer, the knight of deadly beauty walking away forever with no possible way of ever being in talking distance with her ever again.

Such hopeless thoughts flowed as she went to stand parallel to Prince and Emperor for the sake of looking mildly organized.

“What a shame, those two would’ve made this fairer,” Veligero admented, “but I digress. I know some of you are in a hurry,”

‘Fairer?’ Is this leading where she thinks it is going?

“So I’ll cut to the chase. Seeing how the final phase of the battle was unable to play out, I shall settle for this:” 

No…

“I request a final duel to close off this event.”

Oh my cod, NO!

Everyone there watched in confusion as Hachi threw up her arms without reason, more so when Veligero cut in in time to stop her from walking away entirely without explanation.

“Hey! Bear with me, this won’t take a minute. 4-on-1, right on this pier, no respawns, if I die once-” A burst of vigor filled his tone, filling his voice of an excitement for the challenge she was not used too,

“No, if I get *hit* once, I will concede and award you whatever you can name, whether it be money, property, or more abstract. My starting weapon will be what I hold in my person.”

He slightly shifted his left hand forward, showing off the arced black tube he had been carrying around with him the whole time. The Splatana was the sole item in the vicinity that had the slightest chance of sliding inside.

Though, it was rather chunky and blocky compared to the scabbard and that loose end certainly was not helping in IDing it. Actually, it was odd to her that he made no mention of that.

Emperor, the reigning king of ego of course, had to speak up about this absurd ruleset,

“Hmp! Confident, are you? Not many commoners are willing to stand against the Emperor even with their entire squad backing them up, so what makes you think you’ll do better than them?

Octarian army training? Please, no one so far has impressed me even in the slightest.”

“I shall agree to that, standard training is a joke. It exists as a mercy to filter out those unable to handle the tests of war for a less combative role.

However, the reason you can’t find good opponents no matter how hard you look within Inkbattles,”

Veligero turned his back to Emperor, lending him a single side eye in contempt,

“Is because no skilled fighter ever worth their salt would never find worth from fighting some spoiled brat.”

The frustration Hachi saw from Emperor earlier, while genuine, was him being ‘nice’ and was his form of a formal complaint. Whether it was out of pride, practicality, or plain old manners, he was the type to avoid wanting to lash out and rather let it pass as quick as it comes.

Right at this moment, it was taking years of experience in holding it in to not let that wall explode.

She saw his smirk collapse into a slight bearing of the beak and his eyebrows furrow hard as the outer edges quivered. Such a sight made his brother reconsider stepping in.

“ What, did, you, say? ”

“If you weren’t listening then that’s your fault. Best me and I’ll tell you all of my thoughts if that’s what you want. I shall take my place at the start of the bridge, the duel begins when any of you make the first attack,”

He then turned to address Hachi clearly and concisely,

“And there won’t be any mistakes this time, hear it in my voice. Now go talk to your ‘friends’ about the first move, because I promise you there won’t be another.”

True to his word, he moved on to stand at the far boarding bridge to stand and observe.

“Surume-san, what is ‘voice?’”

“Voice?” Surume did a double take, not used to hearing her speak, “It’s the sound that comes out of your face of course! Or mouth if you know what that means.

His voice? What did he mean by that? There did not seem to be anything special about it. Was it his ability to speak flawless Inklish? Having a wide vocabulary? Was it in his neck? His mouth? Beak, even?

The Inkling girl cocked her head slightly, “What did he mean by ‘last time?’ You met this edgelord already?”

Unfortunately she had no time to answer that, as Emperor cut in, the strain on his voice giving away how much salty revenge flowed through his air gills amidst his planning,

“Listen up, I don’t care what your tiny brains think up. We are going to form a firing line to advance forward, you 2 expendables will go first and be a skirmish fodder while me and Prince end him. The piece de resistance.

We’ll show him his place under Team Emperor’s reign, as nothing more than a dirt sucking worm. If he isn’t shredded immediately, you draw him to the bridge to corner him and execute him there.”

“Woah, slow down there mackerel king, I want in on the action too, but my client here,” Surume cut in his cut in, waving toward her intensely faced lady, “Doesn’t want to engage in such laborious activities, isn’t that right, Eight?”

“Ah? Oh, yes.”

Emperor was about to rebuttal this but stopped for Prince’s turn,

“I think it’s better if she wants to stay back and throw torpedoes. I can’t explain why, but I think her weapon is related to the thing he’s holding, and I think he plans to take it.”

“That *thing* is several sizes too thick for that hole,” Emp waved away, not noticing Surume’s mischievous expression at that line,

“It’d be like trying to shove a brick of hard cheese into a sink drain. But I suppose if you think so then so be it, I rather not have her get in the way anyway.

Either way we’ll crush him into chum with our might before he has a chance to replace the weapon’s ink with his own colors.”

“Aight then!” Her voice slightly echoed off the bow of the bow as they wrapped up the planning, “Empy-py, I assume you want the first shot then?”

“Don’t call me that again or I’ll whip you, and no? That’s your job as a feeder.”

“Alrightyyy! Look at that, all the best of friends. Let’s get this fishcake, gentle-people.”

“Mm!” Prince agreed with a small smile, welcome to working with these two.

“Tsk, on my family’s honor, he will fall,” Emperor proclaimed heartily, ready for blood.

“Eh?” Hachi’s rather airheaded closing line went as she came back from her world of theorycrafting, who only caught an eighth of that entire conversation, understanding less from the speed and emotions running high.

Whatever, a close ranged 1 vs 4 is almost impossible to win unless all their limbs were not being used. She should be done soon, for real this time. She will just throw bombs and it will all be over.

Despite not exactly being on the friendliest terms the 4 rolled out in an almost in sync walk in a row to Veligero.

~~~ 

This is the peak of the day. Nothing can stop us now.

Everyone else at this pier is in the presence of the coolest guys in all of Inkpolis at this very moment. Your thick jacket in the bare sun cooking you alive couldn’t cause the slightest dip in this cold aura.

But it's missing something, something very important.

REACTION SPEED [HARD: Success] - “ Together, we are the Splatoon 4.”

You blurt it out without realizing it, much to the confusion of the confused 3, who were so perplexed they refused to acknowledge it, silently and awkwardly marching forward.

But the scene isn’t fully set yet.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [EASY: Success] - To match this coolness, an equally cool cast of instruments blares in your imaginary music video, as you picture the camera pan across each of your faces.

SAVOIR FAIRE [IMPOSSIBLE: Failure] - A massive lump in your throat clogs your attempt to sing the lyrics, resulting in a very gross *hack* from your neck.

Apparently your shame-budget isn’t enough to cover the cost of singing with no music to back it up. Come back once you can pay the toll, lame-o.

~~~

“Have you decided, which one of you will *die* first?” The samurai prompted them,

“Almost. Hey, V, I’m allowed to just sneak on by and stand… here, right?”

Surume placed herself in a way to put Veligero between her and the 2 royals with his back toward them, with Hachi behind the 2 royals.

(Example top-down visual):

E

H                  V<  S

P

“Fine,” he accepted without hesitation, “I suppose this is where you wish to die. Shall we begin?”

“Almost, almost,” Surume began to unzip their jacket as she reaffirmed, ”I’m just really curious, are you confident you’re not even getting a little bit of color on that coat of yours? You don’t even have a inktank.

“I’ll manage.”

“Not a talker unless it comes to bullying children, huh? Well, I do low key hope you do win ‘cuz that would be cool to see.”

“Hmph, bullying? That was a very valuable life lesson they will all grow to-”

*BANG!!*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Squidbeak Splatoon Databank Draft for Entry #172007:

About “Spiritual Energy.”

Spiritual energy, life force, vitality, qi, ki, chi, hamon, ripple, heat, tension, chakra, hype.

There are many such labels across all different languages,cultures, even media for the energy that comes naturally to all living beings. While many species have their own uses for it, Inkfish like Octolings and Inklings have their ink directly tied to it.

Other than bioluminescence-based fashion, this energy is channeled in all sorts of ways through Special Weapons. All are powered by the sudden surge of abundant ink caused by the excitement of battle, but each kit manipulates its own way.

The same power used to form dense, highly volatile, explosive ink in Inkzookas is the same power used to form dense, hardened, yet lightweight Ink Armor and in protective (temporary) materials such as the Baller.

It all comes down to the medium.

Despite what the array of different special weapons showcased in the Ink Battles might seem, the knowledge and technology harnessing this natural phenomenon are a relatively recent field.

The most recent innovation being foods that nearly instantly increase this specific energy, such as Specials Ready to Meet (Quota)™ used in Grizz Co.™ Salmon Runs™.

However, with new historic records being uncovered everyday of the ancient ways utilizing the power of the body, such as martial arts, who knows how many other inventions are on the way…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hachi optimistically hoped the one-hit wonder that rang out would skip this entire battle. She thought wrong. Of course it did not, she was hexed!

Veligero had blocked the melting bullet with that mysterious tube with effortless (one) arm movement. The steaming bullet was caught perfectly in the centerline of the thing where there was no chance of a ricochet.

She thought about it a bit more, did she see him move to intercept? It was like he skipped past the part involving “moving.” 

As the slug dribbled down the object, he flicked away the melted ink, not a single mark or dent to show for their efforts.

“Ah, it was worth a *shot!*”

Was that save from reaction speed or was the Surume sucker-shot really too obvious?

“Too slow,” He began, “A smart decision, unfortunately brought down by how hopelessly-”

*BRSHK!*

Emperor was not willing to wait any longer, especially when his target was distracted. This time, Hachi watched with extra focus, and what she saw was completely unbelievable to her gray irises.

*FWWOM*

Where there should be an Octoling was replaced by a hazy black and white silhouette curving around Surume, leaving a lengthy yet extremely temporary trail in his wake.

In a blink of an eye, he had placed himself behind Surume, using them as a living shield.

*ZZZRRRGG! *

Hachi could not help but cup her hand over her mouth in horror as the liquid sawblade dug squarely into their chest. Surely it was a trick of perspective but it already looked as if the blade was a few centimeters deep.

She could feel it from here even purely as an onlooker, the marathon of a million shark teeth running laps on her, the dirt kicking away the longer it went on. Tiny tear dew cooled the corner of her eye.

The most disturbing part was how Surume did not seem to care at all.

Yes, it technically was still allied sunlight yellow ink, but during the moments it tore away at their own structure, splattering little golden bits onto the floor, as their entire body is forced to tremble at absorbed inertia, their expression remained uninvolved.

Soon enough, it dissipated back into smooth, pulsating, harmless, friendly ink, and while the excess may have cauterized “true” bleeding, it flowed all the same. 

They turned to face Veligero again, ignoring the shocked teammates that were in front of them.

Surume grinned with much laxity, now wearing their double cross glasses despite no person there seeing it being equipped, “Now this is exciting!”

If they were trying to get a reaction out of Veligero, it failed. Well, not entirely. First he glanced at them and their gaping wound slowly mending the savage divide that had been dealt to them unflinchingly, then looked over at Hachi.

“Hm, I see,” He noted, “Now it’s my turn.”

He inexplicably pointed his entire arm and fist at her-

*chlik*

Her shoulder was pushed by a mysterious force. Then, that shoving swiftly sharpened into a stabbing of a shiv, literally.

The impacted area surprised her with a tiny, light, cerulean dagger of ink the length of 2 fingers, sticking out of it, with a tiny beacon of white light emitting from the pommel.

Looking up to see what he possibly did, Hachi felt a surge of air blow onto her.

Veligero is now 1 meter in front of her.

Before she could even process the second-long event, his arm swung across her in one motion at a speed so fast she almost could not believe it was the same person she met during that night. The difference was, well, like night and day.

Fast enough she was unable to let out a reaction of pain. Her perspective gradually slid forward, before abruptly flopping over chest first onto the ground as he turned to face the 3 flank, while her loosened grip on the Splatana was pried open as it was snatched away.

*thud*

A tiny pulsing of her labored breathing up and down. She tried to use her legs to at least flip herself but they did not seem to be responding at the moment.

Her vision started to become unstable the moment she became part with the floor. Artifacting started to pop and fade from view all while the rainbow of colors in the world seemed to wash away. A rather dreary landscape she would no longer want to live in.

The last thing she could see with clarity was the secret that led to her doom, the secret weapon of Veligero:

A brilliant hook blade, protruding out of his flesh from his forearm!

The arm itself acting as a scabbard, the deep ocean blue fluid messily coated and dripped off the edge of unknown material.

While slightly relieved it was not Destined Death, Hachi was worried if this increased the risk of bloodborne illnesses.

     “!”

“?!” “!?” 

“What!?”

Veligero kept the Splatana pointed toward them as he calmly pulled it closer, over his shoulder. The tube mysteriously kept to his hip without support as his 2 fingers dragged across the carbon frame.

As the fingers continued their run, the Splatana began to transform. It started to break apart into 3 segments similar to the broken tip.

The sponge and frame dropped to the floor, then suddenly it snapped back together to end up with an even thinner and lengthier blade.

All the inspiration from the windscreen wiper was stripped away from the sports weapon. Even the grip had morphed to make it more streamlined for swinging.

Then it hit her, that black tube he had been carrying around him this whole time was the scabbard.

A specially crafted weapon, the size slightly exceeding the height of the average Inkfish, curved and perfectly designed to kill with efficiency with no aesthetics to get in the way. No extra bulk, no loose ends, even a pointed tip replaced the dull end.

This is not just a weapon, but a part of Veligero, that he has now rightly “earned” back by slaughtering her.

Ready to kill, he let them all know:

“Your end approaches.”

~~~

The following massacre was a blur of which few details of the entire battle could be registered even as Hachi was forced to watch it unfold. 

At the sight of her demise, the trio all unanimously and silently agreed to unload a deadly quick volley of projectiles right away.

She could truly comprehend that Veligero spent 2 seconds effortlessly deflecting every projectile with the black scabbard with smooth circular movements before performing another vanishing act.

*fhvm*

Her whole head started to nod off more into the floor as she did her best to stay awake for the thin chance she would heal the wounds fast enough to get back up.

(*BRSHK!*)

(*sa-sa-sasa-sa*

*klink!*)

“Dieee.”

She saw a familiar pale dressed figure go limp in the distance, partially out of sight.

Guns clattered to the floor with several other unfamiliar things falling shortly after with a faint squishing noise.

3 seconds had passed already, but what exactly were the limits of her consciousness circulation on a portion of all her blood? As she pondered that question her mind was starting to wither, shores of a black sea crept into the edge of her sight.

The count faltered, briefly blanking on what number came next.

Surume’s conjured up a short thunder storm of rapid booms cracking the air, cutting short a technical difficulty.

( *click, click*

“Oh sh-”)

5…

The second white coat along with Veligero came into focus, the sound of the desperate swinging of jet powered fists smacking empty air.

*CLANG!!!*

With one deflect with the sword, Prince's structure was completely shattered as a shower of yellow ink sparkled as if steel blades clashed with golden scales.

Both Inkling and Octoling mind were in sync, wondering what on earth could have been part of the Splatana to cause such a magnificent noise.

As Prince backed off to attempt to focus both jets on the same fist as an unexpected attack, causing his entire body to lurch forward in a straight line as a high powered makeshift battering ram.

Veligero only needed to keep his steady hand on his sheathed sword.

* SHI-NN! *

Air pulsed a single moment as he shot past the swordsmen, however it was all too clear he was too beneath him in skill. A stumble forward triggered an enormous spray of sapphire erupted from a massive gash across Prince, a speck of which flew into her eyes.

Veligero refused to glance back at the trash as the Inkling fell to the ground. He kneeled and sliding the sword into the scabbard with an almost mechanical *chik.*

“Too slowww.”

Her hearing was worsening too. Hachi blinked, re-adjusting her lenses to the sight of Prince reeling on the ground in silent agony, his attacker was no longer in sight.

The trench of ocean blue sprang from his chest, outlining where he laid without any signs of stopping.

With what little strength she could muster, she attempted to push herself to get a visual on him to at the very least get an attempt at hitting him with a torpedo.

It felt as if she had lost track of time as it slowed to a drag, experiencing both stabs of agony and nothingness all at the same time. White noise had taken over her nerves from the waist up, a tingling sensation creeping upward bit by bit.

How many seconds had passed? 7? 9?

It felt like a minute had gone by the time she saw Veligero clear in the distance, who had stuck the sword right through Surume. Sprays of more rain fizzed out of the wound as he pulled back out, slowly, as if emphasizing every bit of the defeat.

Utter and complete total victory.

He flourished the Splatana with a one-hand spin then shoved the blade back with the rightful cover,

*klink!*

Letting his hand hold the pose, then bringing it back to his side.

But he was not finished. He turned and took a path toward Hachi.

Even on the verge of being overtaken by the hostile ink making its way through her cells, he stepped onto the bleeding puddle of blue to stand over her, casting a large dark looming shadow.

The lack of proper blood flow had catalyzed as hallucinations as camera distortion and artifacting genuinely took over what clear sight she had left, complete with audio crackling. Neck muscles were starting to go too, so Hachi was stuck with this damn view of his knees and boots.

“Hm. Still in uniform, even when you’re no longer burdened by duty. What a good little soldier,”

Crouching down, he put his deadpan face in view, Hachi swore the veins around his stormy iris had an almost unnatural shape to them,

“Remember, I was *always* the superior fighter. If you’d known better, then I wouldn’t have a reason to do this.”

He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in,

“However, as… disappointing as your performance was, count yourself fortunate. I have a rather keen eye for noticing those deserving of a bit of acknowledgement.

Our current business has concluded, but I’m willing to offer you a job that I think you’ll agree can offer you limitlessss… potential, of someone with your slightly above mediocre caliber.”

From inside his long coat, a bone-

No, definitely a bird eggshell shaded card, produced in between his fingers. The plain black Inklish text is indecipherable with her rapidly declining “video” quality, except for the one big letter located in the middle of the card.

“In the following days, you’ll experience first hand the true nature of the ‘freedom’ you've fought so hard to achieve. Perhaps it’ll take a month or two, maybe even a year, but once you’ve accepted your place in this world,” 

He tossed it onto her back unceremoniously.

“Contact the number on this card.”

Finishing his piece, he stood tall again to blanket her in the cold domain, before turning to walk away with his re-acquired property in hand as Hachi’s life flickered closer to the end.

“Don’t worry about your wounds, you’ll get sent back good as new. I may not have crossed the lethal ink threshold, but you won’t be getting up until you’re back at the spawn point.”

He looked over his shoulder out to the heart of the buzzing city. A sharp chill flared up from the aforementioned wounds as he looked out toward Inkopolis. One thousand mini icicles spiked all across the damaged muscle and skin.

If she had any energy left, perhaps a grunt of pain would have left her. Instead, her grip on reality slipped as she blanked out. Her survival instinct fought hard to keep her awake.

( *splash*)

As the body starts reallocating resources for a larger regeneration process, the victim tends to feel drained of energy…

( *splish*, *splash*)

Perfect time for the famous Inkopolis coffee…

(*splash*)

In the next moment, she found herself being dragged across the gritty pier floor, moving further away from the lively trees and greenery that stood in front of the rounded buildings. Head lolled onto the side as her arms were released and flopped onto the floor.

The waves scraped at the edge behind her, seeking to pull her back to the primordial origins.

( *splash*)

The humid, misty air gifting jewels of salt on her elbow. Black shins then obscured her view of the rainbow town.

“This is where we part ways,”

A rubbery grainy imprint of a boot pressed against her torso.

“Rest in peace.”

*SPLA-(shmmhmm)*

Suddenly, the lukewarm embrace of the ocean swallowed her whole, immediately eating away at the cells of her body.

Her soul pushed up to the top of her throat as it yearned for the refracted air above, the pressure pushing upward against her weight, awaiting the rapture that will follow as the rest of her physical integrity dissolves to become salt and water.

To completely wipe out everything, the visceral damage, the mind numbing exhaustion, the prickling emotion, all to be part of the primordial sea. Origin itself.

More and more LEDs of her “screens” turned off as a silhouette of formless night, witnessing her lack of struggle, taking out something rectangular and bringing up to the head.

The deeper she sank, traces of murky yellow and magenta fluid seeped across the broken sunlight, until that silhouette dissipated from the concrete edge.

As her back finally made contact with the rather shallow shore, the entire system could not hold on any longer. The “feed” vanished, plunging her back into a deep blue hell of which nothing can be seen or felt.

Thoughts were all she had felt during this short, leaving her with the memory of the intense disappointment stirring around the core of his eyes. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Squidbeak Splatoon Databank Entry Draft #02020121:

Technology in Inkopolis

As one of the biggest cities in Inkadia, Inkopolis also houses some of the biggest tech companies in the land.

Some fancy toys include specialized shades which displays a HUD, ability for infrared vision, optical magnification, and countless more tactical features fine tuned for combat, ripe for possibilities for endless evolutions.

Some biotech companies have started experimenting with prototype implants such as cybernetic body parts, ideas including the same HUD thing built into an eye, devices to automatically administer emergency medication for the sick and disabled, and even artificial skeletons!

Another biotech company, has even claimed to have made a cybernetic to control body temperatures at will along with increasing processing speed of brains using a serum of unknown composition.

(Note: All of these are basically “what ifs,” and unless a bunch of experienced, lifelong working, engineers who regularly worked with countless test subjects before, mysteriously appear out of nowhere to join all these companies en masse, these ideas will likely stay as a shape of smoke from a glass pipe for a looong time. Maybe try your luck after 60 years.

So, sorry, no on demand adrenaline to get you through my or Callie's ramblings, Marie! try sleeping for 8 hours,  I know your reading these) 

I LOVE MYSTERIOUS CHEMICALS PUMPED IN MY BLOODSTREAM YEAH!!! I WANT MY INK HAS A 2% MICRO PLASTIC COUNT BY THE TIME IM 18!!!!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The light at the end of the tunnel. Spinning, spinning, toward her at breakneck speed, a scream attached to it getting louder as it traveled. There was no concept of “where” or “why.” 

Few dim lights lined the roof of the concave tunnel, moisture coating the gray catacomb walls.

(“#e##o, ####?”)

Frozen in place or perhaps there was not anything there to move. 

(“##n #o# he## #e?”)

There was nothing to feel as the eyes and face of the light grew larger and larger. Echos of the grinding metal eventually turned to roars.

(“M#s#?”)

Hairsbreadth away, the interior was nearly blotted out through the tinted windows, of which nothing can be seen as the oncoming headlights burned out any semblance of vision in the final deafening milliseconds before impact.

“Miss, can you hear me?”

!!!

Every source of sound blasted the ears and brain awake at once in a burst of incomprehensible hell, like it had all been buffering the entire time for the moment it was time for her to come back. Seagulls, the waves, engine of motors, chattering of passersby, it all came through on max volume headphones. Mindlessly, her hand moved to her abdomen. Good as new.

Ugh. The godless Metro will never leave Hachi alone even in death. At least this time it “brought” her back instead of trying to end it, she thinks.

Blinking exactly one time, her eyes had to take a tiny moment to adjust to the sunny environment. Was it physical or the mental front? All the light had been sharpened into stars.

Disappeared as fast as it arrived, she took in her partially familiar surroundings. Back at spawn again near the bow of the ship, with a little greeting party.

A blue uniformed Jellyfish in a cap first and foremost still waiting for a response, Surume, and of course the immediately most eye-catching out of all: KAORI!

Suddenly, Hachi was overly aware she was sitting, slumped over, with her back against the railing behind the spawn point. With a burst of energy, she pushed herself up against the metal with one long and stood tall, watching her with an unbreaking beam the entire time.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Yes,” She automatically repeated, then turned that beam to the Jelly when it occurred to her it might have been a bit too intensive as Kaori refused to meet eyes, instead exploring the delicate intricacies of the floorboards.

“Okay, let’s get this over with,” They spoke, “Can you confirm you were the victim of battery in your previous incarnation?” 

“Battery?”

“Did the suspect cause unnecessary pain and suffering to you during the confrontation?

Drawing out a splat despite obvious lethal injuries, purposely choosing to inflict pain rather than ending the fight, choosing to use non-ink based attacks to cause direct unhealable damage?”

Oh! Then that would be a resounding “Yes.”

“Hm, and can you provide any details like a name?”

Is there a reason why this person is asking these questions? Holding her tongue on the Octonese honorifics, she politely answered who she assumed they wanted to know, “Veligero?”

“Alright,” They said, without missing a beat, “All of you please just follow me off the boat. This won’t take much longer.”

Already planning to do that, she and the other two walked along onto land. Hachi was not exactly privy on the reasoning but the air felt rather tense, even with Surume’s zipped up overly casual stride.

There she saw Emperor and Prince waiting on the stair-benches, sticking out like a white streak meant to represent wind graffied onto a concrete canvas.

The eldest was deep in contemplation, endlessly rubbing his neck without reason with one hand while the youngest sat looking at his phone screen yet not actually doing anything with it, as if he was trying to distract himself from the situation without taking his full attention away.

At the foot of the stairs the group halted, catching the eye of Prince, but not Emperor. This did not stop the Jelly from lecturing them.

“Was this a gang related matter?”

“No,” Without a hint of theatrics in his voice nor a shift in his pose, Emperor answered, “As I stated before, it was just a duel we all agreed to do with another player.”

The air she already thought was tense enough got even denser as he answered their seemingly innocent questions. Whoever this was, was no ordinary curious passerby clearly, if it even has Kaori of all people on edge.

“Really? Because other witnesses here reported that people were getting sliced into sushi before being dumped into the water instead of finishing them off. That’s what someone does to send a message.”

“Yeah,”

Hachi opened her mouth and pondered the idea of trying to recall everything that happened, seeing how interested they were so keen on knowing, but was silently shushed by Surume and Kaori.

“The message is that we lost the fight. Can we go now, officer?”

The Jellyfish paused, their inner emotions completely unreadable.

“If you say so, but for all of your information,” They looked over to Hachi in particular for some reason, “Starting fights even with ink as a safety precaution is a *crime.*

Doesn’t matter how cool it might be or interesting the ‘map’ might feel, it wastes our time with these reports mistaken for actual assaults. That’s all, you’re free to go.”

None of them left the spot as the Jellyfish walked back toward the mainstreet. Even as they disappeared onward the gray world, no one dared to speak up. The peaked out tension sharp enough to pop a burst bomb could not outweigh the curiosity of Hachi though, bluntly swinging the hard hitting questions wielded by her confusion.

“Who the shell was that?”

“How do you know how to use ‘shell’ but you don’t-” Surume started, but halted and restarted her response with a spin with her hand, “That was the police, they’re like, guards for the rules, y’know? If you break a rule of the city they ‘ban’ you and stuff.”

~~~

A young Octoling girl still in training walks around camp on her leave for the day. She notices 2 pairs of Octolings at the edge of the camps, shouting at each other. No one seems to give them any thought despite the abundant noise.

One side is dressed in similar attire as her, tight, shined, blackened kombu [seaweed] leather crop tops. Only the right arm has the privilege of being the long sleeve. 

The other pair were almost identical, their large bright crimson curly hair, armored chest plates which left their midriff bare, matching shorts, boots, and steel piped shooters in hand. No sleeves for these two. It’s as if they had been copy and pasted to save computer memory.

The girl was already too late for the context, as one of the twin soldiers suddenly jammed their fist into one of the sleeved’s stomach, forcing them to curl over the ground as their coughed up excess of saliva watered the dry valley dirt.

The keeling’s partner froze up, unable to function as their training failed to choose between fight or flight.

“ Nanda temewa?!” [“Who the f#%$ are you?!”]

The soldier shook their hand, not actually hoping to get an answer from the demand,

“[Some nerve talking to a dōshin of the Kujou clan like that. If your clan’s soldiers weren’t so &$#@ then we wouldn’t have to waste our time patrolling this sector for your sorry asses.]

[Be thankful for Kujou-sama’s generosity that she has us patrol basically all of the Valley for you losers, not that it would be a problem with our numbers.]”

~~~

“Ah, like dōshin !”

“Doughshin?”

“Yes, they are ‘police’ for Takotsubo, Octo Valley. What family is Inkopolis?”

“‘Family?’ Waaait, do you mean *clan?*”

Out of the corner of the Hachi vision, Emperor closed his mouth with a tiny disappointed frown as Surume snatched the word from his lips.

“Are they samurai or something?”

“Eeee…”

If Hachi had to describe it, they were *technically* samurai clans, as their leaders were direct descendants of those ancient families, but they had already stopped using the pure-steel, inkless weapons and armor they were famous for long ago, if she was remembering it correctly.

Emphasis on *correctly.* She remembers things but there is a more logical voice advising that her memory is not quite as sharp as it once was after her that whole head trauma, or maybe she was always like that. Not like she can remember for sure.

Anyway, the Splatana (or rather splatanas), was the closest thing to a reinvention of any type of katana , and even those were more of an personal heirloom for higher ranks rather than a viable weapon for the entire army.

Other than that she has not seen a reinvention of the naginata [spear] (unless she were to count the Hokusai [Octobrush]), or a yumi [bow] yet. Here is hoping someone will change that in a few years.

“Hey, you good?” Surume wondered out loud as Hachi continued to run down the maze of thoughts inside her own head, not stopping at all to think about how to translate it into her basic Inklish out loud.

“I think she’s thinking,” Prince chimed in rather timidly, in time for her to break the spell.

“Nooo? I do not know how to… explain. Samurai, no, but is samurai family.”

“Oh,” Surume noted, doing their best to show she actually cared and not brushing it off,

“Well, no families here, at least not that I know of. Maybe there’s a secret crime family controlling them from the shadows but it’s just the Inkpolis Metropolitan Police Department.

Anyway, yeah, luckily we sorta all silently agreed it was too much of a hassle for it to be worth telling them anything, as violent as our host ended up being.”

“And I can’t have a rematch if he gets arrested first,” Emperor seethed, still caressing his own to his neck, “I’ll make him pay us back, tenfold.”

“Imma be honest, I know we just said otherwise but I think there is like a 3/4 chance that Mr. Samurai is actually in a gang of some sort, heh. Normal players are too afraid of getting banned by doing brutally illegal moves like that.

I bet if we told that he actually hosted a game from the Shoal awhile ago, it would’ve been a fake name or even an off the books thing paid with lots of monayy, not that I think the police would care that much anyway. They can’t even guard the zapfish.

Dunno why a grown-ass man like him is picking fights with kids, but I would be lying if it wasn’t a little fun, putting us through the dicer like that with a window cleaner.”

(“Speak for yourself,” Emperor mumbled)

“Still, I feel like I know that aura somewhere before…”

As Surume receded from yapping to delve in that internal mind project, the conversation seemed to close off with a bit of a whimper. With all the answers laid out on the table, no one really seemed in the mood to talk-

“ KUSO! [CRAP!] ”

The panic in Hachi’s voice made everyone snap out of their thoughts as her tentacurls rolled up from stress, further stunning them even further by speaking so fast they could barely tell she was speaking another language,

“ Imananjidesuka?! [What time is it?!]”

A key question had hit her like a charging splat roller at the idea of a gathering: How long had she been out? They found her laying on the floor and assumedly had enough time to interrogate the group earlier, so who knew how long time had passed!

When Marina-senpai and Pearl-senpai are very busy people, so when they set their meeting time for later, they specifically avoided using a specific time so they can easily change it if unavoidable plans pop up, or at least that is what Hachi assumed.

What if the whole time she was fighting, they sent an updated time to her? Not only would she potentially be late, but unwittingly leaving them unanswered for several hours!

And she knows for sure that they know that she has all the free time in the world at the moment, so that would be double disrespectful.

There was no time to waste, she had to kick herself into overdrive and get back to her temporary locker at The Shoal *immediately,* as fast as her boneless could carry her. This is a matter of life and death.

Hold it, she can not disrespect another for the sake of respecting another. All those limbs locked in place just a few more seconds as she quickly turned to a perplexed crowd with a flurry of very short head bows.

“Sorry, sorry! I have to go, I have meeting- a meeting! Goodbye!”

Without another word she turned to leave in a hurry. Around the pier she went, tactical stilettos clopping across the stone floors in a mad search for her bag as the rest of the group remained stunned for a little bit longer even after that burst of energy passed.

“Huh. Hey, Cap, you know anything about that? Anything to do with the arrangement?”

Surume’s question gilded straight off Kaori’s ears as she continued to watch the red, brown, and black figure of Eight slowly disappear over the pavement horizon. Even after the fact, she remained staring at the spot where she last was.

Damn. Well, she’s glad nothing bad happened, it’s just that, well, she thought she would’ve spent more time with Eight.

‘Damn’?

Kaori brought her hand up to her head as her eyes squeezed shut in private embarrassment.

Why did I say ‘damn’? What was I expecting? 

If she doesn’t want or need guidance, that’s good. Don’t make her feel like she has to listen like last time. If she wants help, she’ll ask Marina and Pearl. They probably know more than me anyway.

“CAPTAIN!!! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHY SHE LEFT?”

A massive wave ripped under Kaori’s skin as Surume’s words cracked the back of her head. She would’ve jumped had she had an ounce of awareness.

The word No??? was practically bursting at the seams of her brain as she turned to her technically-subordinate, raising both of her palms in an offended manner.

“Reaaallly?” The little Inkling egged on, much to the confusion of everyone else involved.

“Ah, whatever. It’s prob nothing big. Stay right there while I get something from the food stall.

I know your ass ain’t got a job to go to from what Mario [Marie] told me, so I think it’s time we should do some more talking while you’re here, maybe about, oh, I dunno, our little housing arrangement?”

Chapter Text

Chapter 16: bossa uh

The saturation of coffee left the smoldering tastes of sweet, creamy, but slightly bitter acid on her taste buds as she zoned off as she stared out the large rounded window from within a cafe. Her eyes were set on what little natural scenery she could glimpse with absolutely nothing in focus. Through slivers in between the buildings, some gray clouds still lingered against the blue backdrop of the sky, biding its time to culminate into something greater.

An extremely relaxing tune plays from the distant or perhaps perfectly measured volume of the speakers. It's lyricless, yet its vocalizations calmed her down to her core, along with its saxophone and countless other instruments all blending together perfectly, not unlike the drink she had on her table.

Usually, she is more of a tea person, but Hachi wanted to try new things in Inkopolis no matter how minor, and supposedly this roasted beverage was the best in the area. Well, according to Marina.

At around 09:59, she sat waiting inside the Seasil Cafe for Marina and Pearl to arrive. She completely lucked out, there were no missed calls or missed messages as she feared, until the moment she had the idea to go back to the Manta Maria to hangout. Not only that, but the planned time and location was right around the corner.

Literally. It was literally to the left of The Shoal entrance, past an orange, spiky-headed kid (she assumed) giving her a rather rude looking look and next to an extremely creepy underground metro staircase that had been seemingly decommissioned. Maybe that was just her though.

However, the entrance was so unintuitive, that Hachi had to work up the courage to text her ‘hosts’ on how to get in after spending way too much time trying to search it up on the internet to no avail and a surprising amount of frustration at awful website UI that rivaled with even the oldest second-hand equipment acquired by Salmonid traders.

Apparently, one is supposed to, and she quotes:

“yeah literally no one knows its unlocked so literally no one goes here lol

i think thats how the owner likes it tho so idk.” - Pearl

In text form of course.

Yes, that is right, to access the cafe she had to pull open a cage door then manually lift up a shutter door in order to gain access to the stairs leading into the cafe. Does no one in Inkopolis know hospitality?

Anyway, this would be the first time they have all gathered together as just a group of friends, not as squad fighting to escape, or a meeting to arrange a space to live. Just a pure freeform meeting for the sake of seeing each other. 

Which Hachi had realized was making her rather anxious from the very start. The amount of times she had shifted in her curved yet comfortable chair was insurmountable. Her entire mental state has been hopping from one thing to another in an extremely poor way of trying to plan for it all.

On the wooden table with tentacle colored mats, next to her coffee cup, was her little journal she used to occasionally write down poems that come to her mind. At the moment, her pen sat unmoving atop the lines, mind blank and void of any thoughts.

Hachi blinked, half-remembering the idea to message Kaori about this meetup just in case she wanted to stop by, but she imagined that she would be really busy with being a Captain and would sadly have much more important things that should take priority over her.

As much as it sucked to go against, that fight with her sanitized self might unfortunately be the last time she will ever witness that living legend in action. Cods, she fishes she could sea her fend off the waves of Octarians sailing her way, Hachi not included of course.

Heck, she would love nothing more than to sit in a room with only her and listen to anything she said again. Surely she would not be alone in this, in fact she would bet if the right person knew her experiences they could make a way to experience them in some form of media.

Brand her a traitor if they want, but Kaori was too cool to *not* cheer for, even the memories of being around her constantly permeated through her brain folds, like a sort of epic radiation sickness.

*rustle*

…

Did something just move right next to her?

Before her mind could catch up to her senses, the back of an Inklings hand lightly tapped on the left side of Hachi’s head 2 times. Slowly, she turned her head in slight addlement toward this disturbance.

“Obake!” Hachi exclaimed out loud in surprise to what could only be described as a smug, pale ghost of an Inkling with white hair with fat blue tips with a golden set of star spangled eyes sitting on top the back part of the seat, shoes hovering a little above the buttress, so it is technically is not that inconsiderate.

Atop her head was what seemed to be a dark grayish square baseball cap, which had a 1-eared headset sitting right in the middle of it. Right in the middle of its front was a golden embroidering of a crown, the emblem of a king, no, definitely more of a princess. In her left arm, a metal baseball bat was resting on her shoulder.

“Yo, what’s up?” The yokai spoke, in a rather recognizable high pitched voice.

Hachi continued to study the apparition’s clothes, to get an idea of what era she might have come from. The torse wore a completely plain blue shirt with almost non existent rolls of sleeves. On her legs was a pair of gray baseball pants and on the ends of her legs were laceless black running shoes with two stripes.

Finally, around her neck was a pair of metal gray sea-dog tags, both of which displayed a gold plated icon on the surface: A star and a holeless 8.  

Stars and crowns? The “spirit” was no spirit at all, but the fashion was rather conflicting with the image of who she was thinking of. Nonetheless, Hachi was able to put a name to who this phantom was.

“Ah, Pearl-san!” Hachi happily exclaimed, putting her palms together out of excitement. As this happened, the “secret” door made to blend into the wall in the corner of the room opened gently so as to not cause a disturbance in the calm soundscape as Marina squeezed her way in. Her usual awkward smile was hard to mistake as anyone else as she gave a small wave over to both of them.

Much like Pearl, she was wearing a different, slightly out of character fit than usual. A simple purple shirt with a pinkish placket, with an even darker pencil skirt with leggings, and at the end of the outfit was low-heel office plumps. The biggest detail to Hachi however, was the lack of a natural style in her hair. It was a solid black top, white bottom color scheme, and was it her or were they even straightened out?

“Ehehe,” Chuckled the gremlin-like Pearl, “c’mere Eighty-Eight.” 

Pearl quickly shifted into swim form and slid herself off to the correct part of the seat, landing right next to the genial Hachi before switching back to Inkling form and giving her a short but tight hug.

Her arms wrapped around her like a slightly tilted ring, one limb going under the arm of Hachi while the other threw itself over the other shoulder to meet its twin.

Pearl tried to squeeze as hard as possible, causing a slight increase in pressure, but her skinny arms weren’t gonna cause any hampering anything anytime soon. It felt like a tightened seatbelt. A feeling of safety and reassurance within its seemingly tiny yet secure hold.

As this all happened, the song coming from the cafe speakers transitioned into piano solo, following each moment to moment.

After the failed suffocation attempt, she hopped out of the chair as Marina came closer to Hachi, arms held close to her chest in preparation for a big hug. 

Standing up to maximize contact with her taller height as much as possible, Marina outstretched her arms and caught her in an embrace. Her hugs were more reminiscent of a sweater, not a rag tag, itchy one one could buy off the street market salvage, but one that was handmade with a pretty design and an instant feeling of familiarity and warmth.

“Aww, Eight,” Maria couldn’t help but gush as she held the hug a bit longer, ”I missed you!” Her eyes grew foggy as she savored this moment. Somehow it started to sink into her that she spent the entire week without these 2, which sounded like the exact opposite of what her past self would have wanted to do in an unknown world.

As Pearl dragged her seat closer to their side of the (segmented) long table, she rested that bat of hers in between her legs, which barely reached the floor, tagging a comment alongside Marina’s sentence. 

“You have no idea how tense Marina was this week,” She laughed, “I musta saw her take out her phone and put it away about a hundred times!”

Once the squeezing finally stopped, Marina took her spot to the right of Pearl on their side of the booth. The thought then came to Hachi that she should start talking, but of what? What could she start with?

Luckily for her, Pearl was always the more talkative of the 3 and immediately found something to grill Hachi on.

“Yo, you still wearin’ your old fit? Ya sure you don’t need any of mine?” She offered, not revealing if she was serious or if she was bantering, “I gotta Fall River tuxedo combo with your name on it.” 

“Pearl,” Marina giggled with a small sigh, “she wouldn’t even be able to fit into your adorable little clothes.”

“C'mon, I ain’t that tiny,” Pearl attempted to reason as she self consciously glanced down at her hovering legs before locking in eye contact, “Whatever, there’s a guy around over ‘ere by the water that can fix it right up for her, we can get there faster in my helicopter.” 

Ok, was it just Hachi, or did her better grasp of Inklish let her appreciate how these 2 talked even more? Marina had a unique way of speaking, an assumedly Octonese accent much like herself, though a lot more faint out of pure experience. Her inflection seemed to go upward rather than downward at the end of sentences like native Inklish speakers.

Hachi had already accepted that it would take a long time until her Inklish was perfect enough to sound as good as, lets say, Kaori, so at the very least she would want to sound like Marina-senpai by the time she gets around her age.

And Pearl, well, she did have a certain way of speaking, but today it was different. She could not put a tentacle on what, but Pearl saying the word “whatever” sounded a bit more like “whatevah,” and “helicopter” almost sounded more like “helicoptah,” and that is not even including her habit of dropping letters off words. Either way, it was fun listening to how she spoke.

But, while they were still on the topic of clothes…

“Why are you wearing those?” Hachi asked bluntly as she usually did.

“Oh, these?” Pearl showed off as she used her hands to “present” the clothes on her body, even standing up to do a 360° turn to show off what little detail there was.

“Yea, I just have a ball game with the Princess League today at like 1 pm, so I just decided to skip the locker room prep so we can get to the fun part faster.” 

She took a moment to inspect her aluminum-looking bat. It was scarred all over with small scratches. One notable mark was a slight dent in the main barrel of the club.

“Hehehe, man, I love baseball,” Pearl told no one in particular, “I ‘oughta make a bat-sized roller.”

Hachi quickly worked to translate 1 pm to military time in her brain as Marina spoke up about her oddly formal getup.

“Oh, it is nothing special. There is just a meeting with a record labeling group later, they wanted me to be there, for some reason.” Marina briefly explained.

“I keep telling her a suit is a over-krill,” Pearl interjected, her hands moving with a mind of their own as she continued,

“But every time we had to do some sort of meeting with business nerds, she keeps saying she *has* to make herself all monotone and straight edge to not be rude to them, even if it means spending hours and hours trying to straighten out her hair.

I mean, she’s still hot, don't get me wrong. Marina pulls off anything, but we’re Off The freakin’ Hook ! What’s the point of them working with us if they don’t even like how we usually are?”

“It’s just-,” Marina pauses, wondering how exactly she was going to explain this sort of unspoken rule she had always abided by, “It’s weird how we’re the only ones there in such flashy clothing while everyone else is all in suits. They’ll think we’re really weird and don’t want to work with us.”

“Man, that's some bull-squid!” She leaned back in a defeated manner, tugging the brim of her cap down a smidge, “Basically all those mofos have the most flashy patterns on their suits nowaday ‘cuz of the so-called Bubble and stuff, frickin’ posers.

Psh, whatever, as long as no one tries making me fit into one. I can’t stand how *square* they feel. Like I feel like I would unironically use the word ‘hip’ to describe myself in a conversation. I’m always tempted to rip off all the tops in one motion whenever I get even the slightest bit annoyed.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that Pearlie,” Marina reassured, not a single drop of bad blood between them, “You know I’ll never force you to do something you don’t want to do. You’re all the color the boardrooms need and that I need.”

All the freshly brewed coffee could not hide the warmth those words gave to Pearl and that was from Hachi’s perspective. With a very giggly-giggle, the pale Inkling transitioned topics effortlessly.

“Anyway, Eight-ball, we’ve been talking waaay to much about us, whatcha been up too?”

And so the time flew by both in a flash and as a peaceful stream as she recounted her rather unusual start to her day. Of course she had to leave out a few details, like an invitation being addressed to her specifically and the whole speech at the end was skipped.

It was for the sake of pacing and of course her limited word selection, but also to evade the effort of attempting to elaborate on something which she did not fully understand, but they basically knew the broad strokes.

(“Emperor clan, huh?” Pearl let out a weirdly malicious chuckle, like she had been handed the keys to the kingdom, “They sound like a funny bunch.”)

She planned to also leave out the end bit where the authorities showed up as these two already have done so much for her, Hachi *really* did not want to add more stress onto that. 

However, one thing caught Marina’s full attention before get to that and to be honest she did not make an effort to fight against cutting her the rest of her story time short:

“Are you telling me this guy had a *Splatana* that could change form?!”

“Op, looks like you just activated her smarty brain,” Pearl purred, “Uhh, so is that a big deal?”

“Splatanas are really rare!” Marina exclaimed suddenly in a tiny burst of frustration, “They were produced right before the start of the Great Turf War only to be shut down in favor of cheaper and more effective ink weapons a few weeks later. If I had to guess, around 1,000 were probably made in total?”

“A lot of them used family swords,” She continued as Pearl nodded along, looking at the table, “And I mean steel blades from the time before ink weapons were a thing, as a base for Splatanas in an attempt to “modernize” it.

After the Octarians lost though, many were scrapped for parts and because of how redundant they were compared to ink shooters.

Didn’t help that no one could (or bothered) find a replacement item to use as a new base to create more Splatanas either as there was no demand for new steel blades anymore.”

Marina mimicked the swinging of a sword, “It takes a lot of training just to consistently launch a projectile in the first place without worrying about accuracy. There’s not like a mechanism or a motor inside that builds up the pressure for you.”

“Meanwhile,” She then shot a pretend gun. “Octo-shots you just pull the trigger when an enemy is in range and splat them from how much was being shot out.”

(“That's what she said.”)

“Not to mention how complex it was compared to other ink weapons, making it hard to learn maintenance.

Eight, I’m surprised you know anything about them, most kids your age would know more about katanas instead!

*Gasp* Wait, did you read the entire Weapon Maintenance Codex too?!”

Haw?

Is Marina implying that most people did not study it, even though keeping your tools in working condition would be the difference between life and death?

Marina seemed to read along with her thoughts in tandem with her brain, nodding along excitedly. It seems even she knew that exact thought process.

“EEEEE!! I never thought Eight of all people would’ve read it!

I thought I was going crazy that I was the only one in my class who bothered to read up on it, everyone else just remembered the minimum requirement of 3 items and then didn’t bother with the rest!

What if they were forced to use a different weapon they weren’t comfortable with in a dire situation!? It would be disastrous!”

Well that explains why Hachi never got yelled at during maintenance practice. She cannot really believe that memorizing as much as possible was not a part of the natural self-preservation instinct in everyone else…

Ooor it occurred to her that maybe she was making excuses for why she spent her free time unironically reading her study material instead of making or hanging around any friends.

Marina produced a notebook from her inner pockets with a pencil before tearing out a few pages of paper,

“But hold on a moment, because I don’t ever remember a transformation kit. This might be something else! Eight, can you please tell me everything you can about that sword? I was never into small arms development, but everytime I hear about a new weapon I kinda have the need to know as much as possible so I can ‘roast them,’ as Pearl would put it.”

She did not say the quiet part out loud, but Hachi could feel what the missing words were, at least roughly:

Her mood for the rest of the day, maybe even the month or year, depended on this moment. If she did not even try and learn more about it, it would bug her for who knows how long, as small and insignificant as it was.

Hachi had no reason to not oblige.

“Okey.”

“Wait, wait,” Pearl cut in at the last second as she slid off the side of the chair, “Are we not going to talk about the part where this Vegeta or whatever his name was, dude had a whole ass knife in his arm or his whole teleporty move??”

Marina placed a finger on her chin as she looked to the ceiling, pondering for a moment, “I’m not a cyberneticist so I don’t really know or care about it too much.

 Melding flesh and metal together isn’t too out there, we literally stick tubes into ourselves so we can pump our fluid into a tank for weapons. Not to mention all the stuff we stick on non-Octoling Octarian’s inside, ne? Hachi-chan.

The ‘teleport,’ I had to guess, maybe he hit her with a tracking dart to move to like a small squid beakon?”

Pearl seemed to be satisfied with these barely answered answers, “Hell yeah, that's cool. Maybe I should get my guys to make some for me, hehe. Also I just realized we’ve been sitting here for like almost 20 minutes without ordering. Want anything, Marina?” She asked as she hopped off her seat.

“Anything you get is fine with me,” She replied, eyes moved to locked in to meet Hachi’s own resting glare as she prepared to unleash a steady flow of words, the tide of which would be etched into the paper,

“Just no lemonade, please.”

~~~

Reaching for the coffee provided barely a match worth of warmth. Nonetheless the flavor had been branded across her taste buds, not so much as scorched but left to be eaten away at them for a lengthy period of time.

What was once a nice refreshing drink had become an almost bitter medicine that refused to leave the beak of Hachi no matter how much she drank from the glass of water Pearl so generously fetched for her.

At this point she felt like she would be able to recall every little detail of the white wooden inkling things that lined the shelf to her left after all her random bouts of staring off into them as she attempted to remember all details of the Splatana to Marina, who had been sketching without pause the entire time.

Because she was teetering on the line between passing out and breathing near the main event, alot of details were quite literally hazy. All Hachi could do was list off the general details and let Marina guess the rest, but she seemed all too excited to jot them down. In fact she seemed to get even more into her work the more details were given.

From the similarities of a car window wiper, to the balancing (not sure how she was going to visualize that), the process in which it was converted into a lengthier and thinner blade, all the way down to the-

“‘ Clang !’ noise when it was struck?”

“ Hai. ”

“Oh, my, cod. Surely it can’t be…”

Overtime, one of the papers turned into a sort of very simple right-to-left diagram of the transformation. It was also the only one Hachi understood as it was also the page Marina regularly showed to her to make sure she was getting the visuals right.

In fact it was likely designed specifically for her and Pearl to be able  to comprehend it. The rest of the pages seemed to be a whirlpool of parts and diagrams of all the loose guesses. Hachi thought she knew weapon parts, but outside of the pre-established parts of a “standard” Splatana, the rest might as well be in a language that only their pen-mother, Marina, could understand.

With the finishing touches done, she took that one page placed it in the middle of the table for all to see:

“Oh my gosh,” She was already turning the paper to double-check it again as her hand moved to half-block her own face in embarrassment,

“When was the last time I did traditional? My artstyle sucks so bad now compared to when I use my laptop, what the shell? It’s so rough… No, no, I can’t- this isn't good enough. Let me redo this-”

“Relaaax, ‘Rina, that looks rad!” Pearl counter-turned her rotation to get a look at the page, keeping a hand on the drawing to prevent it from being disposed of as Marina’s mental dam seemed to struggle to hold back her words to a pace both could understand.

“Eight, this person who was using the Splatana, they’re much smarter and connected than it might seem. I thought this was just a replica or a restored one, but this is like a whole new original creation.

They used a window wiper as a framework, a perfect fit for a fluid weapon. In fact this might be even better than using a sword, as it already deals with fluids while still keeping it as light and flexible as a melee weapon.

The part that holds the sponge splits into thirds and stretches the sponge ‘blade’ longer by increasing the distance between the segments while pulling all the external parts seamlessly into the grip like landing gears. That probably takes quite a bit of engineering to do consistently without breaking anything or messing with the balance.”

Pearl shoveled a big spoonful of strawberry ice cream into her mouth as she kinda slammed her finger on the wave that decorated the edge of the weapon, “Whahts dis boxcks and squigglys for?”

“So, this is a shot in the dark,” Marina prepared, partially paranoid that the spirit of an engineer lineage would possess these two and mock her for the suggestion, “But I think there is a katana inside the sponge. Why else would it clang like that? I do not know why it is in there or how it helps, but it is likely. 

That is why I drew a hamon line on the sponge and the little diagrams on the bottom. They might have copied Tsuchi-Oke (Putting clay on a heated sword to make it flexible after tempering it) by inserting it in there to help keep the sponge shape while still keeping it soft. 

Whoever made this has some connections, not to mention a skill for weapon creation. Samurai or blacksmith, either way they might be an important member of an Octarian family clan that has been around for a while!”

The stomach of Hachi bounced off a massive trampoline at this revelation, correlating with the size of her pupils. It was not cursed in the way she thought it was, but she is so so sooo glad she managed to give it back in the end.

If she knew she had stolen a literal family heirloom and failed to find their owner, she would have to live with that weight her entire life in her first week of being here. Not to mention the unbearable embarrassment that came with her pettiness attached with it.

“Daymmm girl,” Her spoon tapped the side of the ice cream bowl belonging to Pearl, “You’re a certified celebrity magnet. First a veteran of the War, the GREATEST musical duo in Inkopolis, and now a big shot from the place ya just left. What’s next, the Squid Sisters?”

PLEASE. MAY THE GODS MAKE IT HAPPEN.

“Hehehe, that would be a perfect reward after what she has been through,” Marina playfully agreed as she placed all collection of papers back into her notebook for later as this particular topic of discussion seemed to wrap up,

“Oh, and I know I talked about how cool they were, but be careful around people who have swords. I think they are, like, really illegal to have in public in Inkopolis, even if you are a samurai family. I don’t want you to get in trouble with a bad crowd now!”

With the air of discovery cleared, the sun was able to hit just right at this time of day. Sunny rays shine even brighter through the giant window even as it was amidst the cramped neighboring building walls, giving more color to this mildly bleak section of the square.

The speakers seem to power up from glee too, as they moved on from that calmer vibe to a tune that tapped along with a bit more energy as Hachi, Pearl, and Marina spent what little time they had left in their meeting to talk about more fun things, like what the butlers at Pearl’s house kept finding.

(“And when they were cleaning things out, one of them found an old mini-fridge and there was all sorts a crap in there. There’s a frickin’ knife, there’s coffee, Chitos ®, kitchen grade vinegar.”)

Hachi was even lucky enough to get a few hints that the duo had been cooking up since their adventures: a new album! However nothing was specifically given, only that it related to her and that they gave a bunch of giggly, wistful looks between each other.

But even good times never last. Eventually the free time the trio had left was whittled away. As they entered the stairway that held the entrances to the cafe, they started to bid their farewells as their paths diverged.

Several bright neon, slightly eye-straining, humming, shine illuminated the flight of stairs Pearl and Marina were to take in order to get to their helicopter. Each one from a different sign for the services whose entrances lay nearby, every time changing which one was the spotlight in a never ending cycle of green, white, black, and pink.

Pearl was but a few steps up to match her towering 178 cm tall partner, but even slightly looking up at them both had Hachi worry about seeing dots from the fluorescent lights.

Unlike them, she was to return to the streets of the people and to get lost in the forest of rainbow colored stone trees and see their equally colorful fruits they bear, one of them being her mysterious new roommate. She could feel the heat of the sun paint the back of her shin as she faced them and see it in the shadow that was casted at the foot of the stairs.

“Hey, if your new roommate sucks, I can always lend you another place to sleep till ya find a better one!” Pearl offered once more with intentions as pure as a pearl’s surface, “Dunno why you and ‘Rina don’t want me to give you one though, or hell, an entire building. I have one building per street, you could live anywhere you wanted.”

That creeping fear of needing to explain herself in a language she was not even 33% confident in creeped in, then rinsed away in the nick of time as Marina recalled the reasoning of the arrangement.

“Oh, Pearlie, as much as I want to, I don’t think giving her an entire apartment at this age would be good for her growth,” She gently explained, “No matter how much we want her to be happy, we cannot do everything for her.

Besides, remember, she is fully prepared to take on these challenges when she set off for Inkpolis, maybe even looking forward to the challenge, ne, Hachi-chan? ”

Pinpon ! While rather ironic as she was depending on Marina at this moment to save her from talking, it was squidseye. That moment where Hachi bought something for the first time with her hard earned Ink Battle money was such a massive realization of her own hard fought freedom that she does not think will ever experience again in her lifetime.

It might rank #2 under the very first sight of the rising sun after fighting her way out of the Metro… maybe.

Every little achievement had given her a huge rush of joy, from fixing the Splatana, to making her account for the Ink Battles, even the ability to take a break when she was tired with no rush to get back to work.

That was all *her* doing. It was not an order, not an assignment, or a bonus objective to fill up a task list. She did that on her *own* accord and the plentiful harvest is *hers* to enjoy it with no risk of it being taken away by a superior or being forced to leave it behind to save herself.

Okay, well, maybe the Splatana, but that was not hers to begin with!

As sad as it was to admit, nothing ever given to her by the Octarian world ever reached this level of euphoria. Hachi would rather chase that rush again and again on her own terms no matter the struggles, rather than someone handing it over to her like a trigger to a dispenser, as tempting as these rewards may be.

Part of her argued that would be her reward for surviving, but the other part of her simply could not accept it. Perhaps it was that left over Octarian soldier pride to prove she is able to take on the hostile world and thrive in spite of it without the support of others.

“Mm!” As usual, was her lukewarm alternative version of her multi-paragraph reasoning, quelling Pearl’s doubts.

“Aight, suit yourself. Let me know if you change your mind. Well, smell ya later, Eight. Let’s bounce!”

Marina leaned in and gave one last parting hug before turning to follow Pearl.

Wait! This is not right. Who knows when she will be able to see them again with lives as busy as theirs? Had she not broken through all her obstacles, in and out already? Is that really how she wants her last words to them for the time being to be? 

*teku, teku, teku, teku, teku, teku, teku, teku, teku, teku, teku, teku, teku...*

But that chance had slowly faded into the sky as she simply stood there, eyes dulled as she looked down at the steps they stood at seconds ago. Heart slamming against her chest cavity in hopes of breaking past this barrier that had still remained. With a distant echo of a shutting door, that urge to yell her heart smoldered away into a disappointing sigh as the grip on her bag loosened.

One foe still remained after all and it is the one that had been with her since birth. Will she need to dedicate herself to conquering these inner battles until she has eliminated all her suffering? She did not know if she had any more left in her, she is still recovering from her last one, and that should have been the finale, the release of everything.

While it did not ruin the fun Hachi had been indulging herself in for the past hour, nonetheless it did leave her in a state of wanting to snag another drink to wash down the aftertaste of a bitter departure. Urgh, hopefully she gets there soon, because it was starting to seep into the nerves, causing the words of Pearl to whisper in her ears, fearing the worst for this yet to be revealed roommate.

But that could wait, as she set off into the city to find Kaori, her guide to her new home.

~~~

Somehow it completely slipped the mind of Hachi that Inkopolis is filled with these fully functioning automobiles and that there is the option of riding inside of one. She was so used to moving around the world on foot with, at most, maybe the occasional train ride (obviously she sort of wants to avoid that if possible), the idea of regularly using to traverse the streets in a smaller machine completely foreign to her.

That is until she met up with Kaori, who was going to lead her to a private living space called an “apartment,” and she got an entire “taxi” to drive them to their destination for the cost of decently small sum cash equaling purchasing multiple small items at a convenience store. 

And let Hachi say, that if this was the Valley, the amount of valuables it had taken to build this machine could have only been possible if the owner was a high ranking clan noble, and even then it might have been considered treasonous to even think about wasting so much resources for what was essentially a new age jinrikisha [pulled cart]!

Everything was so oddly clean, but in a comfortable way not unlike said convenience store…

The air smelled neutral but still leaning on the pleasant side,

There was room enough in between both of them to place several bags if needed, along with extra pockets she assumed were to hold things,

Vents for cool clean air to come through,

Equipment displaying numbers and things at the cockpit to assumedly calculate distance, price, and a sign on the outside to signify it was occupied,

A safety belt to secure riders, sitting inside was comfy (even if her head was centimeters away from pressing against the roof, which was also lined with spotless fabric!).

Even the driver had a stylish uniform: a vest, red tie, white gloves, completely shaded sunglasses, topping it all off with a cool cap. This did make it difficult to identify what sort of Inkfish they were by concealing their hair and eyes, not that it mattered at all. Hachi simply wants to take in every detail imaginable.

However, one of the biggest surprises to her was a plastic wrapped paper on a stiff plastic “string.” It simply informed her to put on the safety belt built into the seat and that the door is operated by the driver, in all manner of languages with icons to show it, most importantly though, it included *Octonese*!!!

Rare Octonese mention!!!!!!

The excitement was so great she proceeded to turn to her right to show Kaori, who was also busy apathetically and mindlessly staring off at nothing as her knees drifted around her leg space, pointing at it and going “ Woooa !” like she had discovered an onion ring in her order of fries.

Her riding partner returned a barely perceptible smile as she continued to watch her be amazed at it a bit more, revealing the amazing discovery alongside her without saying a word.

Once Hachi had her time with that, she carefully placed it back to the original hanging spot and began to channel that burst of energy outward as she scooted about the backseat a bit more to view the scenes of the city that glided by like a model on a conveyor belt.

At one point she moved to lean across Kaori to get a look at her side, who suddenly went from a lethargic rest to tensing up as much as a stretched string of yarn against the back of her seat, then to a steel cord the black shoulder grazed the patch of poncho around her collar.

Right before Kaori thought she could not hold her breath any longer, a masculine voice as smooth as velvet but as solid as marble reminded her with zero hints of judgment:

“Patron, while seeing the sights, please stay seated at all times during the ride for your own safety.”

The reality of the situation was brought back to the forefront of the Hachi consciousness overpowering the world outside. A surge of heat overwhelmed her face, suddenly remembering there was someone else in the car besides Kaori, witnessing all of her being completely astonished at the most mundane of things.

Right away she sped back to her spot and took a ridge seating pose, back straight, palms against her knees, with an eye-wide expression boring right into the back of the empty seat headrest infront of her. All her focus was dedicated to fighting her own hair from acknowledging what had happened.

As a few minutes passed in silence as she soon calmed herself down to her usual emotional state, this time looking out the window with much dignity and reservation. However, she had to fight herself for composure the moment she gave her attention back to the outside.

Just when she thought the city could not get any prettier, larger and larger patches of greenery popped up as they moved away from the Square, bringing a contrasting vibrancy she could not get from the artificial spice that came from lights, signs, and advertising banners.

At one point they stopped to wait for their turn next to a rather large park with a towering yet soft net fencing with big rows of ticklish shin-height grass and lines of bushy trees that donated liters and liters of shade to the pedestrians on the sidewalk as beams of gold pierced through regardless. Hachi took in a small sigh of the mechanical ventilation. Sitting in here was like cheating her nose out of what had to be an ambient outdoors scent blend most relaxing.

Not as concentrated managed air of the heart of the city, not as briney as the mist of the coast, not the wild wooden dirt smell of Mt. Nantai, certainly not the dry dusty sand of the Valley, nor the always slightly unpleasant recycled air of the underground domes, a smell that was right out of the reaches of her imagination.

And that was the right side of the car.

Directly across the street to her left were the urban line of buildings such as international themed cafes and cute little pastry stores that bordered the emerald paths, with a road leading directly back into the heart of the urban universe. While it held their own charm and personality, they simply could not compare to the naturally occurring fairness that was life itself, in the eyes of Hachi.

The car began moving forward again to pass under a thin walking bridge tall enough to go over the traffic that connected between them.

Two wide, around 7 story buildings atop grassy hills crowned both sides of this road, perfectly illuminated at this time of day. Those must be the apartments. Past the obscuring of a few trees, plenty of windows along with balconies for each living space assumedly as some had clothes hung out on their railings to dry, making it look like it was a giant shelf designed for the Great Zapfish that had left it unfinished during its cleaning.

Each grassy hill they sat on supported by large walls. The right side lined with slanted drab bricks, while the left were completely straight with a black fence keeping bushes in. The left grinded away into leveled ground as they continued onward as the brown bricks continued to line the right side for quite a while until they dipped back into an urban cluster to find a way into the living spaces of the city.

Turning a corner, they entered a road that was literally 2.5 cars wide compared to the 4-5 car wide road they were previously on, causing the speed of the vehicle to slow down as they slightly drove upward. While back to fish-made buildings on both sides, the style had changed quite a bit.

At most they were 3 stories tall and stuck to a smaller green-brown-gray color palette (excluding random signs of suited men on them) with thinner stairs and ramps for few people and cars to access at a time. These were obviously made for people to walk around with ease instead of vehicles, with rails lining the greenery as people navigated right on the sides of the road.

The car reached a split in the road, displaying the most oddly peaceful scene so far, even though comparatively it had so few parts to it.

It was a little rectangular section carved into the fencing that protected the dirt from the road, causing it to perfectly angle around it. In that gap held a wooden bench on the right side, an orange pole with 2 circular mirrors at the top slightly in the middle, and a notice board with a map of the area along with a section for pinned papers on the left. Behind it was more of those “giant shelves” obscured by a large bushy tree that provided ample protection from the sun, but only if you were standing behind the board.

It did not disrupt the plants of this area, as grass had grown at the foot of the bench along with tiny shrubbery next to it. If Hachi were to sit there, she could reach down and caress it like a pet. Above it all were lines and lines of electrical vines that hung from the stone trees nearby.

The seated view from there would be looking right down that skinny road, a telescopic sight right back into the jungle as people move up and down and go about their lives. Some with shopping bags after walking who knows how long, maybe a few cars that would drive into the tiny parking lot that was in one of the corners. So plain, but she would love to sit there for who knows how long and let life breeze on by.

The taxi made a right turn and drove around the apartments, causing Hachi to realize they were on one of those hills she saw earlier as she caught glimpses of a building blow as they went around the edge. Their around 5-10 minute journey came to an end.

*clic-kop*

As expected, the doors automatically opened as they came to a stop. Hachi grabbed her bags and got out as soon as possible to embrace that fresh air as Kaori lagged behind and handed a plastic card to the driver. Oh and how tasty the air was, stretching her arms up high with a deep breath, the crispy and slightly damp atmosphere was seasoned perfectly with that tiny sprinkle of granite uptown smokiness as it filled her oxygen stomachs (lungs).

“MMMMMMM, fwaaaaaa ~.”

This hill was in a perfect spot to catch light too. Not a single one of the paths around her had any heavy shadows casted upon them. Even with enough plantlife to form several natural barriers, a rogue cloud was the lone soldier that softened the rays of the sun of light as she looked stretched toward the nearly clear ocean above. A repetitive but tranquil whirring of bugs droned on without pause in the background, causing her to realize how quiet this area truly was compared to the main city.

Turning around, Hachi brought her eyes to the building that held the place she was going to be living in for a while. It was much skinnier than the fat large blocks of beige that were around this area, but with those 5 stories, 2 per floor according to the windows. Right in the middle was an exposed stairway that should hold the entrances to these homes.

*vmmmmmmmmmm*

The taxi drove away with their mission complete down the rest of the skinny 2-car wide road, which was nauseatingly long the more she tracked the vehicle with her eyes. That is a journey for another time. Kaori remained exactly where she stepped out on, patiently waiting around for Hachi to complete her standstill exploration. Looking at the apartment building once more it loomed behind her adorably awkward guide to this world.

Without another word, she moved toward the sidewalk opening between the leafy “fences,” Kaori taking the lead as the closest to it, taking them directly to the foot of the stout tower. A staircase to the left and a row of tall, skinny boxes to the right, with a few bikes stashed in the gap next to the stairs.

Kaori continued to move up with Hachi close behind. Unlike the city, the illumination was provided solely by the sun with lights on the ceiling that she guessed would only turn on at night time. Their stop was not this level, but did show the format  it was going by. A metal door on the left and right sides, each with eye holes and slits at foot level.

*teko, teko, teko, teko, teko*

The clopping of combat heels echoed in between the floors, escaping through a nice open air view at the turn of the stairs. Looking down at the ground Hachi noticed the mini-trenches that hugged to the walls holding the handrails, made for guiding rainwater, but instead having a slight amount of random dirt, plant bits, and dead bugs in them. Icky. She shifted her steppers away from the walls and closer to the middle.

Second floor, left door. Kaori waited next to another identical metal door, this one had their eye hole covered with a frilly cloth. In front of the doorstep of fate, all the nerves she had been distracting with the help of the world came welling back up to the top as her muscle movements slowed to a crawl:

Hachi herself could handle an entire barracks worth of bunkmates, but what if this one hated her? What if she ends up being a burden because of her lack of experience in this kind of life? What if she says something bad in Inklish and ruins their perspective of her? Would she need to bother Kaori again with finding a new place to live? What if she thought she was ungrateful?

That inconspicuous steel door shifted away from the idea of  the protection of a new haven to a possible wall of a deceptive hell she is walking straight into.

Tch, Hachi HATES social-related fear so much. She would throw her very life around if it meant there was a chance of a better one, but this? Embarrassing mistakes will be remembered forever by both her “opponent” and herself, there is no death as an escape!

Okay, okay, she is too much on edge. She must calm down at least enough so she can talk to Kaori for a moment before proceeding. She will understand, right? A veteran and leader should have plenty of experience with this. She can both teach her how to keep her nerves cool and reassure her the roommate is okay with her. Build up the coura-

*(PING-PONG!)*

A playful sound effect could be heard ringing out from behind the cold metal door as Kaori pressed a button on a plastic intercom square next to it without warning, blasting what little timid thoughts Hachi held in her brain out of the water.

Aho ka [Are you stupid] ?! Me o kowareta [Are your eyes broken] ?!?! 

Was she completely oblivious to how hesitant she was?! Is knowing how comrades feel not what a leader does?! So much for taking a moment to prepare herself, guess she is just going to have to face it head on.

“(Wait a moment, please,)” A muffled slightly tired and aloof feminine voice requested from behind the door. Were they an adult? That kind of voice is not likely belonging to a person around the age of Kaori or Hachi.

Without even so much as checking the viewport, the door swung wide open into its own entryway. There stood an Inkling woman with white hair tied behind her head with a green cap bearing the red and white Toni Kensa logo, her mouth covered by one of those white masks one wears when sick to prevent it from spreading.

Very straightforward clothing too, too straight, it was unmemorable with not much flash or style: black shirt with a solid green open jacket-sweater thing over it along with black pants and dark green shoes. It reminded Hachi of what few old people she saw on the street wear.

“Oh. Hi Three, I didn’t expect you here,”  Despite this comment, the weary golden eyes of the women whose eyelids were half way down did not react at the presence of Kaori, who was ironically showing the most emotion Hachi had ever seen out of her by being completely taken aback in surprise by her presence.

A slight rise of the eyebrows was visible as she turned to look at her though. Why did it feel like her gaze held an extra sparkle to them?

“You must be Agent 8, right? Nice to finally meet you, I’m Agent 2.”

Her hand extended outward to Hachi, who took a moment looking back and forth between the eyes of the masked woman and her hand before realizing she was supposed to grab it. Cultural input delay.

She wrapped her rounded fingers over her square-tipped grabber. The temperature of the woman was about as average as one could get, albeit a bit more on the colder side. Something was tingling her hand, but it was not the relaxed grip, something was different about this girl Hachi had yet to notice.

“I can’t thank you enough for looking over Cuttlefish for us down there. Most would’ve left him to his own devices (I know how much I want to do that sometimes). He didn’t say anything… backhanded while he was with you, did he?”

Hachi had no idea what the term “backhanded” meant in this situation, how do hands translate to words. Time to do the safe option and nod while continuing to hold her hand while unknowingly giving Agent 2 her anxious bug eyed stare.

“...” 

“Not the speaking type? It’s okay, I’m used to it (and prefer it),” The woman slowly glanced over at Agent 3 as she withdrew her arm smoothly, giving 8 enough time to realize what was going on,

“I don’t know why you’re clamming up though, is it because you find talking to more than one person overwhelming?”

“...”

The pale hair woman turned back to 8, as if knowing the patterns of 3 and reading she will not give a retort no matter what she said.

“Anyway, I’m sorry if he did, Agent 8. He’s old like that. Like, really, really old, but he does actually respect you. It’s just sometimes he’s as sensitive as an actual fossil. And if he didn’t say anything bad, then I guess you can ignore that apology part, the rest is still true.”

“...”

“........”

“Right, I forgot I need to carry the conversation. I assume you’re both here to see 4 to find a home for 8, right? I was just on my way out,” A sigh left her masked mouth as her hand reached to comfort her own mentally aching head,

“I don’t really know what goes through that one’s head sometimes. First she starts off as a silent type, like you girls, then the next day they’re talking my ear off even more than my cousin somehow.

Then inviting me to listen to him ask about and play unfinished music for around a few hours before you guys were planned to show up. Maybe we should make psych-evaluation mandatory for all Agents, huh, Captain? Don’t answer that, we’d be forced to shut down because everyone left to seek therapy, including the evaluators.” 

As she moved toward the door, 3 and 8 acted as the sea parted to make way out of an instinct much more than basic politeness. There was a sort of regal quality 8 especially could not put their tentacle on, like being in her presence was a privilege.

“Have fun with Agent 4, there will be no shortage of weird things happening, especially if you’re gonna live with her. I’m off to go down an entire box of Chococones in my car for lunch.”

As 3 raised her hand up, 8 copied as they both quietly waved goodbye to the pale woman who disappeared downward with soft taps of her shoes barely returning back.

Suddenly, a voice still merely gracing volume of a yell echoed back up to have one last word in with the Captain letting anyone nearby in on this advice:

“))And 3, so please remember to change your clothes in order to wash your stink out so you don’t embarrass yourself in front of new members next time.((”

Her face when Agent 2 showed up was the most expressive Hachi had seen, but this time this was the most color her skin had shown so far.

The words whisked away the common fawn tone to showcase a bright pink that rivaled even the most sugary of sodas buried below the surface as Kaori attempted to look away quickly to hide behind the 2 drapes of her hair. She could not tell if that disintegrating feeling was out of embarrassment for herself or anger toward that wisecracker.

Hachi too looked away to do her best in stifling the giggle building up in her puffed up cheeks, but it also came with the relief knowing that she too was also reusing her one fit, making her own repeating clothes less shameful knowing it was a shared burden.

Kaori had to retreat from this humiliating defeat at once. Shuffling into the open door, she quickly stepped onto her light-up shoes to extract her limbs from their clutches without needing to bend over before not-so-gracefully stomping onto the short ledge that marked the start of the wooden floor that split into 2 paths to take.

By the time Hachi closed the door behind them she had already made a right turn into the rest of the apartment.

Agent 4, huh? 

As the Octoling neatly sat on the ledge to unzip her boots, tunnel vision set in as she prayed that the Kaori theory that Surume is 4 was wrong. By far the most mixed she had felt about a person she had met in Inkopolis so far.

They were certainly very talented and can win against the odds with even the most nonsensical fighting style but that was a double edged sword she did not want to be around when it was swung. If they want to muck about on their own time, that is fine. But when everyone else seemed to be taking it seriously, including herself, it was a bit irritating that her only teammate was not.

She did not exactly hate them, it just… hm. The game was just a game of course, but the glimpse of the personality gave her the fear that it would get tiring if she planned to live who knows how long with them. Part of her would rather not risk it and move on entirely and hope not to run into them again. Then again, it was one moment in time, no way she could predict the future off of that.

Free from her combat heels she carefully pinched them together and left them at the door. Stepping onto the wooden flooring it felt cool to the touch even with socks on. There was a slight bit of lingering warmth that was left over from where Kaori traveled across.

As much as she wanted to explore the rest of the house it would likely be rude to poke around without meeting the host first as well to absolutely make sure it was not that person. So she turned right after her friend into a decently wide space. A sliding window door at the opposite end with a laundry pile almost up to knee height acting as the welcome mat. This must be what they call the “living room,” but there was the kitchen and dining table in the left corner! So which was it?

In the middle of the “living” part of the room, and it was full of more clutter than she anticipated:

Between 2 cabinets, a black couch on the left that would maybe 3 maybe 4 people at best with wooden rings as the arm rests, with a short inkling-swimform shaped table right at the foot of it, which had a magazine under a remote. If the laundry on the clothes was not enough there was even more clothes hung up right next to the furniture on hooks attached to outside walls of the cabinets for whatever reason.

Across from it a television atop a stand, but honestly it would be more accurate to call it a shrine. It sat atop a stair-like set up of tables with a small pile of clothes at the foot and another pair of cabinets guarding each side of the screen.

This side of the room alone had so much random clutter in such nonsensical spots, the kitchen also had a bunch of objects hanging from racks with even more things shelved on it. To analyze it in detail would actually give Hachi a massive headache on top of her already stressed self, not that she was not already visibly cringing at the idea of living like this. Her drill sergeants would NOT have let this hypothetical octo fly.

Kaori stood in the middle of it all rather idly looking at one door in particular on the right wall. A piano was being played from behind it with an unfinished melody. Every so often it would play about 7 notes before going silent, then restarting at varying speeds and paces with every so often adding or changing a note. For sure she has heard it before but it was not a song she could not match with a name, and it was not like her portfolio of music was that big.

Oh cod, the rising tides of dread were back on the rise. From the warnings of Agent 2, to the mess of a room, to the complete absence of an Agent 4, this song she could not for the life of her identity, the anticipation was killing her.

Kaori stepped closer to the door carefully, then tapped her knuckle against the wood. The music continued to play without pause even as she tried to focus and to rapt her thin hands within the gaps between resets.

~~~

They methodically tapped away the pins of the monochrome board in hopes any combination of them could unlock that had been rattling around in the Inkling’s own head. Yet another soul had decided to forever haunt their temple with them as their sole witness. To share it would be to get rid of it but how many had made their bed within her walls? They had to release them as even if they brought great pleasure their loneliness drew him mad.

The exact length of 6 of them had been successfully identified, with a thousand more.

~~~

After 5 seconds of trying, Kaori simply looked over to Hachi and nodded toward the couch. So all she could do now was invite her to sit and wait for them to finish and come out on their own. Both landed into the welcoming cushions at the same time, with Hachi politely sitting down on the left side (facing the couch) with not much of a fuss while Kaori dropped her entire deadweight on the right, without worrying about comfort as if she was on the verge of falling to pieces if she did not rest in time.

~~~

Now in this situation most normal people would pull out their phones for entertainment to pass the time, that is where their evolution took them to of course, but neither of these girls were what one would consider normal. Kaori considered that but she could not really think of anything to actually look at. Nothing has interested her for a long time and whatever she used to be into had faded away long ago. Her phone is mostly used as a glorified music player nowadays.

Not to mention she would see out of the corner of her that Hachi was staring right at her through the reflection of the TV screen. Figures , Kaori thought as she automatically looked toward the floor to avoid her realizing she knew. She never grew up with a pocket-sized on-demand entertainment device so that idea was not probably not engrained enough in her mind like everyone else. Eitherway, I would be a **ck move if she left her out to dry while she went to use her own phone.

But they’re just sitting there in silence, again !!!

Every time this happens Kaori legitimately doesn’t know what to do. She wants to start a conversation like a normal person, but she is already barely able to build up the courage to talk to Callie and/or Marie, whom she’s known for 2 years. Last time she had an out because Hachi asked her a question, but then it felt like she just droned on about herself for way too long. Of all the things, an egoist is the very last thing she wanted to be seen as.

Can’t even do basic small chat, why am I even a Captain? I get lucky with how friendly she is, but I can’t do anything to return the favor.

Just as she contemplated leaving to find a bathroom to make things feel more natural, she saw a brown hand grab the remote for the TV and turn it on from the middle of the couch. Hachi must have sensed her shortcomings and decided to do her a favor and turn on the news to fill in for her pathetic lack of even the most basic social skills.

<-or now, many have theorized it was an art project done by someone exceptionally wealthy, however no one so far has stepped forward to claim credit.

In other news, there has been an up to an 48.3% rise in the cases of undocumented immigrants in recent days. Many of which have been claimed to have migrated from an isolationist Octarian society occupying the valleys and canyons beyond Mt. Nantai.

Simply dubbed the Octarian Army or Legion due to lack of a declared name, this microstate is said to have been formed under the remnants of the Octarian army after the Great Turf War and has been under observation since then. Now subject to an unprecedented mass migration into Inkopolis, experts believe the main cause is a lack of resources due to how little they are intouch with the outside world, among other issues.

Governor Ryo Ayuki was recently questioned about the rising statistics of undocumented migrants and had this to say:

“We welcome anyone who is willing to come and live in our great city, but there is a right way and a wrong way. We are a city of many species and cultures, yet none are exceptions to the law. If you have come here to start a new life, then prove you are willing to work together with us as citizens, not as criminals.” >

GREAT, that’s what we needed right now, amazing! Things can’t get any better than this. Kaori’s head tiled into the armrest as her thumb and index moved to contain her braincase by the temples. A survival instinct to the most awkward of scenarios that surpass silence.

“Man, what a p***k,” remarked…!????????

To say Kaori was shocked at that use of that word was an understatement, she nearly twisted her own head off with how fast she turned to do a double take at her. Instead of seeing a cute Octoling, she was even more surprised at seeing another Inkling right between them in a white tank top. Even Hachi was startled a bit, moving her arms up into a fighting position even despite half of her being in a sitting position.

Past the tv droning on, she realized that the melody crafting session had gone dark past the door. But then-

“How did I get here without making so much as a squeak?” Surume hard-read, “Imagine not having ink railings installed in the walls so you don’t need to walk anywhere.”

With a lack of audio interference from the tv due to a transition, there was indeed a faint gurgling of ink coming from behind the couch. Unless there was an rather embarrassingly large leaky water pipe they were covering for. Meeting Surume and getting a feel for their personality earlier today though, it would not be out of the question if it was something worse, actually.

Oof, though. The look on her face. It was obvious Hachi was trying to be polite but even more obvious that she clearly had mixed feelings about Surume. Maybe they sucked during that battle? Kaori was too busy catching up on sleep to watch anything, as if it was really possible to view *anything* at all from the shore.

With a little seated jump, they flipped around to face Hachi like a revolving dinner turntable.

~~~

The prairie-toned hand of the Inkling slowly outstretched toward her for a handshake with their other hand drifting behind their own back not unlike a gentlefish inviting a fancily dressed someone to a slow dance. But Hachi thought it looked more like they were going to suddenly reel her in for a surprise gutting.

“Sooo, I know we sorta started off a bit on the wrong tentacle this morning, but I promise won’t mess with you if you want to live here. I may play around in battles but I don’t play when it comes to boundaries. Hell, ya don’t even need to talk to me, I’m totally fine living like goldfish in the same bowl.”

Hachi stared at the offered limb, unsure what to make of it. If it were just that one thing she had issue with, she would have easily accepted the apology and given another chance, but compounded with being a witness to the general mess of the place does not give her the impression she would tolerate her time here in the long run.

Her focus shifted from the hand to the girl behind them, looking for any kind of guidance or assurance of any kind. In that brief moment Kaori could not bear to keep eye contact but eventually she forced herself to meet her eyes and give a barely perceivable nod.

Without any more pause, Hachi reached forward and met their hand with her own. It was strangely cold.

“Thank you for breaking the stalemate, Kaori!” Their other hand chopped the air toward the hall where they had both arrived from, “Your room is straight down there, behind the screen door. The bed is a futon [frameless bed] but if you want, I have no problem with switching rooms if you want the taller bed.”

Before she could decide to let go, Surume automatically detached and made an immediate move toward the door next to the television and without saying another thing, disappeared behind into the portal to the unknown dimension once more. No heads up or reason why. Okay.

A futon , huh? They must be trying really hard to get her to stay, because that is some extremely traditional Octonese bedding Hachi was surprised they even knew of. They do not even really exist anymore with bunk bedding being the norm in the dormetarys.

 With nothing much else to do Hachi picked up her bag and looked around the room one last time to truly realize what she had gotten herself into. With one silent sigh she drifted toward the hall, which was thankfully clear of any obstructions.

As mentioned there was a sliding door at the end, but she did not expect it to be a fusuma! The only times she saw these doors were in the dojos of the main martial arts instructors. Did Surume do this or was it already like this when it was built?

There were 2 other deviations from the hall aside from the entranceway both on either side of them. On the right was a standard door, assumedly to the room of her gracious host. Left was more of a section for the hygiene aspect of living, washing /drying machines, a door on the left leading to a toilet room, a sink to the right, and the foggy glass door to the bathing/shower room at the far end.

At least it is not that far of a walk from her room. Speaking of which:

*sfrrrrrrrrr-thd*

Her room!

“ *Gasp.*”

This section was a completely different construction compared to the rest. Underneath the bed in the middle of the room, the floor was replaced; the completely flat wooden flooring was instead replaced with soft smooth, nostalgia fragrant tatami [traditional Octonese woven straw mats]!

What the shell, this stuff is also reserved for dojos and meeting rooms for high ranking family/clan members! What is it doing in an Inkling house far away from Octarian territory???

Not to mention it was absurdly clean compared to the rest of the apartment. These wooden shelves were completely naked of anything, not even the lightest coat of dust. Hachi rushed over to one more sliding door on the wall and carefully pried it open as Kaori trailed behind her, equally confused on why this place was so homely compared to the flood of random things in the living room.

DAMN! It even has an oshiire [Traditional Octonese closet] for the futon !

With a soft thump, her bag dropped to the ground as her hands reached to hang onto both locs of dangling hair to think. What the heck is happening? Why is this Octarian style so deep south? The migration has only happened recently, there is no possibility this was done so recently, it was as if it were built during the construction of the building itself.

“...Are you going to be ok?” Kaori mumbled close enough that her satellite ears felt a soft breath on them, causing all sorts of underlying feelings she did not need to be having right now as she questioned if she even knew the culture she had been living within her entire life.

“ H-hai , I mean, yes.”

No, no, she was overthinking it. Surume is one of those weird history people who read about this in the past and copied it long before she arrived, yes, like those wrinkly veterans of the Great Turf War.

Like all bad omens, the mere second Hachi thought of the name, they chose this moment to stroll right through the open door. The universe was playing with her right now.

“Ya like it? I have no idea what to do with this room for such a long time and neither did the last family who lived here, hehe,” The glass sliding door opposite of the hallway door was pushed away as Surume let in fresh air fill the room. Particles letting the afternoon sun warm the rustic floor, “It’s sorta been collecting dust for a while even before I moved it, it’s just one of those rooms that was too nice to turn it into another mess like the others.”

Okay, the *last* family were big history people who made a copy based on whatever books they have on Octarians.

Surume really could not keep still, could they? Turning around and going right back out the way they came without pause, “Anyway I’ll get out of your guyses hair now. You can stay in her room too, Captain, but only if you pay 2400% of the price she’s paying.”

Like a splatling running out of ink, the taps down the hall faded into silence in no time at all. In the following silence, Kaori silently pointed to the door. She had somewhere to be, she is the Captain after all. With a Hachi approved nod, she took her leave. But right before she could leave earshot, Hachi did get one last nice word as a substitute for not expressing her full gratitude to her:

“Goodbye.”

Rewinding for a second back to the doorway to meet her words.

“Bye.”

Good! She interpreted it as positive correctly. That is one extra thing Hachi does not have to stress about. 

It was only a few hours past noon and she already felt completely drained, physically and mentally. If she were to attempt to step out again, the army of cells that comprised her would not even make it past the first flight of stairs before signaling a simultaneous retreat back to their new base.

Fortunately, her bed was already ready and waiting right next to her back. All that was left was for her to gently lift up the puffy blanket and cocoon up, which she immediately regretted, remembering she had not changed out of her worn clothes.

Tch, later. The blankets have already been touched by dirt at this point. Besides, for once in her life there was complete silence and it had an invisible grip on her within this puffy pod.

No sounds of honking cars, no music, nothing at all. There she lay staring up at the wooden ceiling with a mind so vacant there were no plans moving in to fill that space. No hunger for Ink-Battles, no urge to go out to explore the new environment, nothing.

What is next for her? A strange question considering that an entire new city should have provided her ideas for at least a few months, yet here she was a week later already completely out of ideas. Now that she thought about it, what do people in Inkopolis *do* outside of Ink-battles?

The old magazines she obsessed over back then really talked about a few main things: Shops for fighting, gear for fighting (which is also everyday fashion, and places for fighting. Other than that, there was not really much insight into anything outside of battling.

So do all Inklings wake up, eat, fight, then sleep with shopping breaks in between? Do they do that for their entire lives forever??

With such important thoughts at play her arm took the opportunity to slip out of the warmth of the pod of blankets to prepare for a stretch past her head to settle in for real.

“Khhhhhkhkk~”

As the hand reached the apex of its length, a small burst of pain stabbed into her lower back causing a break in her calm structure most violently.

“ Itetetetet [Ow ow ow ow ow]! ”

The limbs crumpled and cringed at the surprise attack, the one still housed at base moved to check the source of the damage. As her own fingers combed the smooth skin it very easily found the source, a tiny… something sticking out of her own flesh.

Sharp yet not a blade, flat but not inflexible, and cold without metal. These were the relayed messages her fingers sent back as they caressed it carefully along it one final realization: it was a *corner* of a larger item.

Shifting her weight to her unaffected side. Channeling the pain that had been inflicted upon her, she yanked on the corner with her full Octarian warrior might and cleanly slipped it out from her skin without so much as a flinch, so fast in fact she could not gauge the size from feeling alone.

Extracting it from beneath the covers revealed a surprisingly classy card, with what little inky body residue stained it vanished quickly like ink on an unpaintable steel surface.

With one side black as night with a thick and bolded “V” printed on it in an extremely straightforward golden brown colored print sporting only straight edges. Turning it to view the other side showed a vertically oriented minimalistic art piece of what seemed to be an extremely zoomed in Octarian tentacle draped atop a shadow of some sort, with a single suction cup taking up a large portion of the card rivaled only by the shadowy mass taking up an entire third. 

In total the image had 4 colors total: White, black, red, and gray. Black formed the circumference of the suction, the lines within the shadow, and the entire border that framed the art inside the edges of the card.

Oh, right, the card that Veligero dropped on her before she passed out. It must have “paired” with her on a damaged area causing it to carry over into respawn, the same logic used to keep her gear.

Her memory was somewhat muddy on the exact details, likely due to the fact she was barely functioning during his whole speech. All she really remembered was the part of contacting him through the card when she learned something about freedom.

With a flick of the wrist, Hachi sent the card flying off to some random spot in the mostly empty room, too tired to bother finding a “proper” place for it. The time to scrutinize that exists further down the road, if it even exists at all. She does admit it is a nice card though, it is worth keeping around for display purposes alone.

But right now, she wanted to ponder a question that had been slowly foaming up at the shores of her brain that had been unknowingly put off for quite a while now, dulled by the ecstasy of the eventful month of her life. That question earlier no longer of another world of which she could merely speculate about, she was now part of that world.

The more and more Hachi thought about it, the more of a hidden layer of dread swelled, filling her headspace and leaving no room for a distraction as the weight of it became ever more clear, knowing she had no answer to respond with:

What is she going to do with her life?

Chapter Text

4 days passed since she moved in with Surume and while it could not compare to the rush of excitement that was her first week in Inkopolis, time here was just as educating even though her urge to go outside dropped considerably since the past few days.

Despite her expectations, Hachi had not been subject to any hazing related pranks so far. They were surprisingly true to their word when it came to not disturbing her, which ironically was to her detriment during this time, leaving no reason to go outside. The worst thing she suffered was the utter disorganization and randomness that would ambush her when she tried to do anything ordinary, mostly in the living room.

One day she woke up to find Surume had left for whatever reason with a tiny note on the living room table which ended up leading to an unforeseen cascade of frustration as Hachi scoured around the house for replacement soap for the bathroom sink so she could wash her hands.

At first she thought it was a language skill issue as there was a bundle of bottles of varying colors and pumps nearby, however she could not find any with what she presumed was the word “soap” in her mind on the labels. She contemplated grabbing one at random to use but the aura coming off the solid opaque bottles with heavy duty caps instilled the fear of accidentally going booyahclear on her hands from unknowingly using cleaning chemicals or something.

Gritting her teeth, she handled her phone with those unwashed hands and searched up an internet text translator which miraculously did in fact have an Octonese option (another mind-project to figure out for another time) and typed in the word for “soap” with the built in Octonese keyboard. Still, not a single match on any of the bottles, meaning the sacrifice was in complete vain.

Eventually this conundrum culminated into Hachi cashing out her efforts and just turning the shower and using what was assumedly the body wash (actually shampoo) bottle to wash her hands. The first thing that greeted Surume when they came back was a very obviously irritated Hachi doing her best to hide her discontent very bluntly asking where the soap was. 

To sum it all up, this was about 68% of her interactions with her new housemate in these first few days:

Hachi tries to find something in house -> She gets frustrated -> Ask Surume where thing is with an increasingly thinner veil of calmness that gets smaller bit by bit:

“Surume.” 

“Heya. Whatcha need?”

“Where is soap?”

They show her whatever ridiculous arbitrary location it is in:

Without breaking eye contact or having even a tiny shifting of their feet, their rectangular finger pointed to the cabinet they literally were standing next too. 

Yes, the cabinet at the entrance of the entire apartment.

The extra soap was not in the bathroom at all but actually in a random cabinet near the entrance of the apartment, next to random figures and other miscellaneous objects it had no business being near, like a tiny scented twig bundle broom.

Rinse and repeat.

At the very least, she was able to optimize this sequence a bit faster by remembering to share her number with Surume. Now she can spend time trying to get them to elaborate on their vague location description for several minutes instead of waiting for an unknown amount of time for them to come back!

Okay, this makes it sound like Surume is an awful roommate, they really are not. If anything they are one of the best ones compared to the bunkmates Hachi lived with growing up.

They are the ones always bringing or making food for both of them to eat every day, even when both parties eating in near complete silence at the dining table with the most words spoken usually asking along the lines of:

“What is this?”

To which Surume would respond:

“Tuna buns,” / “Spinach ravioli,” / “Shwaffles,”

And more interesting and tasty foods whose names she had not recognized.

Admittedly, Hachi did prefer it when they bring food because their idea of food when creating is extremely basic items like “boiled noodles with butter and salt” or “rice balls with salt and dried seaweed.”

Either way, cooked or brought, Surume whips out their phone to watch while she is either left alone to her own thoughts or to straight up copy them and catch up on the internet. There was always a tiny weight of guilt weighing her down with every bite though.

Eating all this food for free without even leaving the house once, compounded by her lack of socializing with them outside of a want, it almost felt wrong to do so without even saying a word to them outside of the bare minimum of a “thank you.”

It ended up playing out like a strange invisible social standoff where she could not tell if their mutual lack of conversation attempts was Surume wanting to continue giving her space by not wanting to pressure her into a conversation or maybe it was because they had more important things to do?

Unfortunately for both of them, none of them had anything common to casually talk about outside of (technically) being in the Splatoon and occasionally indulging in Ink battles, but they were smarter than to talk about either of those with someone they barely knew. Doomed to forever be acquaintances for the rest of their time together and acknowledging each existence and nothing more.

That is until the 4th day.

It was another stay at home for the day for Hachi. A few times she did venture out a bit to look at the fresh nature that surrounded the apartment but that drive never really lasted long when she got a glimpse of more city architecture, making her turn back at the sight of urban environments she had gotten plenty used to. 

So here she was stuck in her bed watching the days go by. It never felt like it was particularly miserable though, she enjoyed having her own place more than she originally imagined. She did not think this would not last forever however, eventually something would come along and catch her interest, right?

At this moment she was in a mindless state, going to one application, immediately closing it, then going to another, when in reality it was fruitless for she had no interest in staying inside this idle either. Interest in music was still at an all time high but even if she wanted to listen to one song over and over again for hours on end, her ears were starting to feel physically worn out. The spirit was willing whilst the body was waning, a tragic day indeed.

The final straw was when she moved to the call app and on a whim to ponder if she should try to call someone to talk to. Cycling through the 3 numbers total she had in her contacts (that were not on the same building as her), yet on every attempt to dial them she would hesitate and end up failing to press the last two numbers.

Every single time the same exact self-repose spoke in her head: These are busy people, she should not disturb them with such trivial matters such as boredom.

In a mild act of destitution, Hachi threw off her blanket without a care of it being slightly messy looking when she came back, grabbing her notebook and pen from her bag before stepping out of her room. Perhaps trying to write some poetry would capture her attention.

Passing by the wash area literally next to her door, the scent of fragrant smells cleared her nose of the rustic fragrance of her tatami -lined floor. The noon lighting reflected off the white surfaces, perking up her eyes from a mere glance. Rumblings of the washing machines whirred on, giving a slight vibration to the floor, with her Octarian uniform inside along with who knows what else her roommate put in there.

What greeted her in the kitchen was not peace and quiet however, but instead Surume chilling on the couch with their phone in one hand and a controller-looking object in the other as a menu on the television remained static.

“Hey.”

“Hello.”

As usual their conversation did not continue from there. It was pretty obvious to Surume that Hachi was curious why today they were staying at home, with a not-so-subtle double take. Yet neither of them felt like speaking up.

‘If they wanted to talk, they would initiate it,’ was unfortunately an unknown sentiment they both shared creating an unintentional feedback loop. 

Hachi pulled up a chair that was borderline obstructing the walkway and was about to sit down when a torrent of heavy and intense music filled the room, weighter than any song she had in her extremely varied but small playlist.

Her attention shot toward the television, where an extremely strange scene was playing out: a fight between some weird lanky thing with a paper bag as a head and a very buff swordsman reminiscent of a samurai in a kimono wielding a massive katana bleeding a blood-red “ink,” all from a perspective from the side. No one moved out of this lane even if it were to prove useful in dodging attacks, as if there were 2 oncoming trains locked onto their tracks.

On first inspection she wondered if it was one of those moving pictures being aired that she saw so much of in the public wide screens, but then she heard Surume audibly react out loud as the paper bag creature got absolutely launched into the sky by one swing of the blade.

“Literally how.”

Moments pass as Hachi stood there in complete awe from this extremely off-angle view of the screen. Slowly she was realizing that realizing that this was not simply a show, this was *live* activity and Surume was directly piloting it!

From what context she could deduce, this paper bag creature acted as their proxy and their objective was to try and defeat this opponent. When one of the bars at the top became empty the stage would suddenly flash and click a few times before the fight started again, anew.

At some point during this in-between downtime Surume did notice her still watching with her hand still gripping on the chair she originally planned to sit in as the open book and pen to an idle purgatory.

“Sorry, let me turn it down for you,” They proposed, reaching for the true television remote-

“No! I am okay with it.”

“Oh?” A singular eyebrow raised with a not so hidden smile growing underneath it at the hint of a potentially emerging shared interest, “Then… imma put it on the sound system then, if that’s fine with you.”

Hachi took a quick glance below at the 3 black bars resting on the platforms, 2 of which were angled inward toward the couch. A blue light appeared as another handled another remote to activate it, now physically feeling the sound of the pause menu music go across the room.

“You can sit here and watch if you want,” Surume finally offered, even patting the seat next to them.

Hachi froze at the offer, but quickly folded because at this point she accepted she was far more interested in this right now. Also it was not exactly a peaceful environment for such a delicate activity like poetry.

The moment her back met the backrest of the couch, Surume dove straight back into the fight, or rather their character did.

Thrashing waves immediately began to rush through the speakers as the battle commenced once more. Music so aggressive Hachi could barely even recognize it was being sung in Inklish amidst the exaggerated grunts of pain and heavy impacts.

Over and over the avatar of Surume fell, each time coming back to try again. Her eyes glued to the conflict even when it was one side being defeated over and over, slowly crawling their way through the storm of endless cleaving blows carried by that tiny spark of determination.

They got into the rhythm of it as both bobbed along to lyrics Hachi could barely comprehend. They live, they die, they live again . Victory was but an excuse to keep going for these two, they were destined to die a few times on the way there so why bother caring?

This went on for about 96 defeats according to the stat page that showed up for barely a blink in between losses until one match Surume managed to hit topple the swordsman with enough strikes while avoiding that wicked ink-dipping blade. In fact the final blow played out in an surprisingly humorous scene of the swordsman taking a nasty hit to the shin from a wheelchair, forcing his face to contort in a comically exaggerated way.

“Finally!”

Even after all that, Hachi thought that would be it, but then those 2 virtual characters started to converse after their battle with voices! What! What is this?! It was like the old art of bunraku (Traditional Octonese puppet theatre) but adapted into technology itself combined with a game. The idea of using technology in such a way was so surreal to her knowing how close they were to such an evolution in their culture yet forever stuck to making tools for war.

“What is this?!”

Hearing this girl who had been reserved and quiet for the past few days suddenly perked up with the same energy as a kid who just discovered the concept of a themed amusement park based around their favorite thing certainly caught the attention of Surume.

“It’s Grouper Gear Tide . New fighting game that was released, like, a few days ago? I wanted to try it out ‘cuz apparently it’s been all over my feed, the music is like 75% of the reason why. Still trying to find a main though, they’re all really cool but none of them really speak to me gameplay wise yet.”

“Eh?” 

“Wait wait,” They turned, realizing something they never stopped and considered, and honestly never thought would be possible for a youth living in Inkopolis:

“Have you… heard of video games before?”