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The faint background sound of the tv was the only thing that broke the comfortable silence that had settled in the apartment.
Eight was sitting on the old but soft carpet, carefully avoiding the various clothes, papers or books that covered most of the floor. Her claws lightly tapped her knees as she looked mindlessly at what was shown on the tv. It seemed to be some kind of documentary about the still unevolved sea life inhabiting the oceans on the surface. While it was interesting, maintaining her concentration for more than a full hour while trying to understand the sometimes-complicated words they used had proven to be challenging.
The documentary right now seemed to focus on some kind of unevolved fish. She didn't pay much attention, but they did look a bit… weird. And not really pretty, with those plain, boring gray scales. 'At least, they are way less scary than Salmonids.' Eight couldn't help but yawn, and looked around.
She saw Three, sitting on her single, worn-looking armchair. She was completely silent, as usual, as she read some kind of things on her phone. Eight had occasionally saw her look up from it, checking if the octoling was still here and well, before nodding slightly to herself and continue whatever she was doing.
Marina and Pearl had a really important business to attend, where they obviously couldn't bring Eight, so she had been obligated to find somewhere else to stay for the night. While she usually stayed at Four's apartment, she had to work a late night shift at Grizzco, and wasn't even sure when she would come back. Staying at the Squids Sisters's was out of the question, as always, so Three had been the only reasonable option. Eight was grateful she had accepted.
While the octoling did technically know how to take care of herself… she had quickly found out she wasn't able to stay alone anymore. The more time she spent with no one, the more her thoughts started to swirl and her breath got quicker and quicker and soon she barely knew where she was. She didn't want to live that anymore.
Three didn't like having a lot of people at her apartment, but she agreed to host Eight when no one was able to. She was very thankful about that, and tried her best to not bother Three when she stayed over, though the other agent was satisfied as long as she didn't break anything.
Three's pieces of furniture were quite worn, as she had picked some up from her old house. It did have a weird charm to it. Her apartment was not the cleanest, as you would expect. Yet, it was still surprising how... organized the mess was. While the floor was cluttered with a lot of random things, she always seemed to find what she looked for, and she walked easily through the rooms, whereas Eight always accidentally stumbled on something. She was used to its messiness, the octoling guessed. Though, it was still clean, and there was rarely dust on anything.
Getting bored of the documentary on tv, Eight let her eyes wander on the shelves and tables, looking at small details and simple decorations on it. She sometimes had an amused smile as she found old, cutesy and childish stickers on some, and started wondering just how old all of this furniture was. It was probably Three's way to keep some kind of memories of her childhood and old home with her.
Eight looked on the small table near the chairs, and saw the single picture that Three kept on it. She had already seen that one before : it showed what appeared to be a younger Three, with her striking green mantles and bright red eyes. It always surprised her how much more expressive she was when she was younger. She was so used to the calm, blank-faced agent with barely noticeable expression, that seeing an old picture of her when she was openly showing a shy smile was almost like she was seeing a whole new person. She supposed she had matured when she grew up… or perhaps ending up fighting in a war was what had changed her. Younger Three was holding the hands of two older, taller inklings that Eight didn't recognize. She remembered Three mention some time ago that they were her parents, though she, as always, hadn't given much details. She lightly tapped her claws against her cheeks, deep in thoughts. She couldn't help but look up, and caught the sight of Three's eyes that were quietly looking at her.
"Do you have siblings, Three?" Eight asked curiously. She rarely ever mentioned her family besides her parents, so she had been wondering since a while. 'I… hope she doesn't mind me asking, though.'
The other agent glanced at the picture for a few seconds, before shaking her head. "My parents were fine with one child." Eight was glad she didn't seem to be bothered by the question. Usually, Three wasn't the person the most willing to talk about herself, but she had gotten a bit more comfortable with her and Four, and sometimes revealed a detail or two. It already meant a lot for Eight that she was willing to tell them about herself.
She nodded with a smile. "They don't live in Inkopolis, right?"
Three paused, but shook her head once more. "No, they live in the countryside. It's a few hours from here, so I don't get to visit often." Her voice had gotten smaller. Eight suddenly noticed the shine in the agent's eyes, and her chest filled with worry. The octoling had discovered that Three's eyes were much more expressive than her face, but seeing just now a distinctive sadness reflecting in it was unusual.
"I'm sure no one would mind if you took some days off to see them." Eight said softly, as carefully as she could. However, she saw Three tense up.
Her hands curled up into fists, and a flash of emotions shot through her eyes too quickly for Eight to catch them. However, Three's sudden, heavy silence told more than words could, and she felt her chest tighten. She was now looking away, her eyes staring at something on the wall— or perhaps nothing at all. One of her hands was stroking her right cheek, and it was almost as if Three didn't notice it. As the octoling stared at her in confusion and worry, realization dawned upon her, and her hearts filled with sadness and guilt.
'The scar…' Eight felt her throat go dry.
The big, blue ink scar still stained a good part around Three's right eye, and had even slightly discolored part of her mantle. Her tainted skin had turned rough, and almost looked like a burn. The color of her right eye was perhaps the most disturbing to strangers, as it had partly kept that neon, striking teal color, her pupil even turning white. And it was only describing how it looked. Three's scar pained her. Pain flares, sudden dizziness, deep fevers, migraines… it handicapped her so much she sometimes couldn't even leave her apartment.
How could you explain where such a scar came from, or how you got it? Hiding simple scars from agents missions was already tough, from what Four often said, but such a big, unusual scar?...
It would create so many questions, questions Three obviously couldn't answer.
Eight's chest couldn't help but feel terribly heavy every time she thought about the blue scar. It was a visual reminder of many things she wanted to forget, especially things that had gone wrong.
Because it went wrong because of her .
Her eyes stinged, as she stared at the floor, her throat so tight it almost hurt. There was a question that had been haunting Eight since a long time, but she had never ever dared asking it. She was dying to know, but she could never find the right time to ask it— well, was there even a right time, for a question like this? She doubted it.
It probably was not the best moment to ask it, but, right now, she decided that she would anyway.
"Three…" Her voice sounded huskier than she would have liked, but it was hard to speak. "Can… Can I ask you something?"
The sudden heaviness in her voice seemed to catch the inkling's attention, and she blinked several times, seemingly surprised, before she nodded quietly.
Eight swallowed dryly. At this moment, as she felt Three's glance on her, she almost wanted to change her mind and never ask anything. She closed her eyes tightly, and took a deep breath. 'I...want to know.' "Do… do you blame me for getting that scar?"
'Well, not just the scar.' Eight thought. 'For everything that happened in the Metro, and for everything that's still causing you pain today.'
When she opened her eyes again, and looked at Three, the inkling was staring at her. Her two eyes barely blinked, and her face was unreadable, as several long, long seconds passed without a single word from her. Eight felt like her chest would explode any moment from now.
She let out a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak, after what felt like hundred of years. "...The scar sucks . It really does." She let out.
' That's… an understatement' , thought Eight, feeling a sharp pang of sadness and guilt in her hearts, though she still listened with attention. Three paused for a long moment, her eyes looking everywhere as she seemingly thought about what she would say. The inkling wasn't a woman of many words, and often struggled to speak her mind, so answering Eight probably was difficult to her.
"I… I really wish I wouldn't have to live with it. I'd do anything." she continued, speaking slowly, her eyes staring at the floor, deep in thoughts. "But… if I didn't get that scar, then it would mean that... I never saved you or Cap'n Cuttlefish. You both couldn't have predicted the blender."
'I wish I had been able to.' Eight thought silently. Still… she was very grateful Three had been here to save them both. She probably wouldn't be here if she hadn't.
Three took another deep pause, but when she spoke again, Eight could almost see the ghost of a smile on her lips. "If that means… that both of you are safe… I can live with it."
Though the guilt was still here in her hearts, Eight admitted her chest felt less heavy. She couldn't help the silent breath of relief that escaped her lips.
"Plus, I also have my wrongs, haven't I?" Three spoke at a low voice. Eight instantly furrowed her eyebrows.
"You know I already forgave you." she scolded her with a serious tone.
Three still felt guilty about attacking her (and almost killing her) two times, she knew it very well. Though Eight denied that it had been her fault when she had been under the weird ink, she still sometimes admitted that, for the first few weeks, she had been quite scared that Three would attack her again, though she now knew she never, ever would. It had been a few months now, and she forgave her for what had happened, even if it wasn't forgotten. Still, the inkling tried her best to make up for it, and Eight was very thankful.
"I know." Three answered. "But I still want to redeem myself."
'You already are, right now.' She thought as she looked all around them, at Three's apartment where she had stayed at for a few nights, at the agent she now considered one of her dearest friends, at all of Inkopolis.
Eight paused for a moment, but then, had a sudden, sly smile. "You know what would be a great start for that?"
Three furrowed her eyebrows, looking at her sly smile with doubt. Before she could ask what she was planning, however, she almost jumped when an octopus dropped into her lap.
She stared at Eight, who was now looking at her with playful, shining eyes. "I can't believe you," she whispered in annoyance, but the octopus still made a happy bubbling sound when she started to slightly scratch her head. Her tentacles curled up in satisfaction and happiness.
Eight felt lighter.