Chapter Text
Three thought she could handle most situations. She didn't do much, but it was always done well. Learning how to fight in record time? Done. Returning the Great Zapfish? Easy— well, it wasn't, but you get it. Breaking a gigantic blender and saving her mentor and Eight? Nailed it, even if she fell unconscious and only woke up a while later after everyone apparently saved the world, with half of her face burning and a massive headache. Avoiding all social interaction with people other than the other agents, Cap'n Cuttlefish and Off the Hook? She mastered it.
However, as she was standing at the entrance of Mako Mart, with an enthusiastic but confused Eight sitting in the cart she was holding, she felt absolutely, completely lost .
They had to organize a secret birthday party. For Four, nonetheless. Which meant extra pressure, because it literally was today. This might have been easier if her and Eight hadn't been the only ones who could do it. Because, obviously, Callie and Marie were on tour in Calamari County, because they always were conveniently away whenever they needed them, and Pearl and Marina were as busy as always.
Of course, for normal people, organizing one single birthday party wouldn't be that hard.
However, Three and Eight weren't normal people.
Social interactions were the bane of Three. She could count the number of friends she had ever had on her hands, and did her best to avoid every single other beings. She had never organized (or attended) a party in her life, let alone a birthday, and she felt kinda awkward because she knew absolutely nothing about it.
And then there was Eight, who literally learned what a birthday was months ago . She didn't even remember her own (they should try to do something about it one day, Three noted) and the only thing she knew about birthdays were the things she vaguely saw and remembered seeing in movies.
Surely, they were the two most qualified people ever.
Three took a big breath, and tried to hide the continuous internal screaming she heard buzzing in her own ears. "Time?" she said in a low voice. She was oh so grateful she could keep such a blank face even though she was absolutely lost about everything.
Eight, who had been watching her in anticipation, nodded and looked at her phone. "It's, um… 11 am, I think."
'Okay, 11 am. Four's shift ends at 7:30 pm, so she should come back at 8. That gives us 9 hours. Good. It means that if we burn her apartment down, we still have time to extinguish the fire.
Great. Good. Everything's fine. Fine. Fine .'
"Are you feeling okay?" she heard Eight ask, her pale gray eyes clouded with light concern. She probably noticed that she was taking even longer to think and do something than usual. She was tempted to curse her ability to read her well.
No . "Yes." That was probably a terrible answer to give her, but she could barely register any word she was saying. Actually, she longed to find some kind of water so she could jump into it as soon as she could. But then Eight would be completely alone, and even if Three didn't know what to do and it was making her tense, there was no way she was going to leave her on her own in a shopping cart. Especially at Mako Mart, actually.
Eight frowned slightly at her answer. "Okay," she simply said, and Three was relieved she didn't press further. If she discovered that the inkling felt as lost as she probably was, they probably would both start growing more and more nervous. "So… what do we need?"
Some help , she was tempted to say. Instead, she searched the pocket of the old hoodie she was wearing and retrieved a single paper. She had quickly noted what they needed to buy before going to the mart, so they wouldn't miss anything, and quickly gave Eight the paper.
The list… was still vague, though. She had simply written with her terrible handwriting to get some party decorations (which… wasn't helping that much), some wrapping to wrap the gift up, and cake ingredients.
Because, yeah. They were also baking their own cake.
Yeah, it sounded terrible, because it was .
Eight had insisted that they needed to make their own cake, or otherwise, 'it wouldn't be the same ! It's not authentic!' which… Three could agree with. She would feel bad to simply give Four some random garbage cake they had bought at the mart— because she definitely deserved more than that.
However, there was one little catch… They both barely knew how to bake.
Okay, Three wasn't terrible at it, but she hadn't done it in so long she could barely remember anything. Heck, the last time she had done that, she had been helping her dad, who was way better than her at baking, back when she still lived in the countryside, several years ago. And well… Eight was Eight. She loved food, but she never, ever cooked or baked anything. 'And I'm pretty damn sure baking is not something you do often in the Octarian army. Or, at all, really.'
So, there was a high percentage of chance that they were probably going to mess up the cake, probably catch something on fire, and end up giving Four something that looked more like a pile of burnt flour than a cake.
Add that to the fact that they had never planned a birthday before, and the afternoon sounded like it was going to go absolutely great.
Eight quickly read (well, more like deciphered) what was scrambled on the list, before nodding to herself, looking a bit nervous. However, when she looked up, her eyes definitely looked determined.
"We can do this!" she said with a serious tone, and even if Three had already prepared for the worst, she still quickly nodded back to her.
After all… she still hoped it wouldn't go too bad. 'Four deserves a nice birthday.'
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Eight was still sitting in the cart, holding two different bottles in her hands, and looked at them with mixed curiosity and confusion. "Why are there so many types of milk?" she wondered with a low voice, frowning.
Three simply shrugged. She never asked herself that question, so she didn't really know what to answer. "....taste?" she supposed "Or… allergies, I guess…"
"Is Four allergic to something?"
"No. Marie said she wasn’t."
Eight's eyes couldn't help but shine. "Marie is so cautious!" she gushed. Of course, she was still very much baffled by everything the Squid Sisters were doing.
'The logical question would be how she learned that, but we gotta keep the myth going…'
Humming slightly, Eight took one bottle she was holding— soy milk, Three noticed, and put it next to her and the various other ingredients in the cart. Soy milk should be fine… well, she hoped it wouldn't matter much anyway.
"We only need some chocolate and some…flour, I think!" Eight told her after she checked the list. "I still think that making her a chocolate cake is bland, though."
Three lifted an eyebrow, and Eight looked at her with deep seriousness.
"Chocolate is great, but it will look boring ," she insisted. "It's not colorful enough!"
She should have guessed Eight would think that. Three took a while to think. "Four loves chocolate... And it's… um... easy to make." She almost forgot the word 'easy'. Speaking was difficult. It'd be better if they could all read minds. 'Wait, no. That's a terrible idea. I don't want anyone to read my mind. I still want them to believe I'm calm and collected and that I'm cool, not panicking inside almost all the time.' "We can still decorate the cake when we finish it."
Eight's eyes suddenly got wide. "We can do that?" she gasped loudly.
"Oh, um... yeah. I'll show you later." Suddenly, Three felt like she perhaps shouldn't have brought that up.
As they continued to walk through the differents aisles, Three kept a close eye on Eight, in the cart. She always insisted to sit in it. It… looked a bit tiny for someone her size, but she always said she felt great. Apparently, getting pushed and rolling around was fun. Three didn't really mind, anyway. Had it been anyone else, they wouldn't even have been able to set one foot into the cart, but Eight simply had that power to melt her and let her do anything she wanted (except when it was something Pearl and Marina could potentially get angry about, because Three didn't want to see them angry ever again )'
Shopping with Eight was kinda fun. She was baffled by a lot of things, especially ones you wouldn't think about, so it was entertaining. Three was never bored when she was around her. Well, she did take it upon her to answer her as best as she could about any question she had, and she had a lot, so she never really had the occasion to. Still, seeing the octoling always so enthusiastic about everything made her feel great. Eight's presence was comforting, so that was maybe why she didn't feel as pressured by the whole organize-a-birthday-party thing as she thought she would be.
"I see flour!" Eight's voice took her out of her thoughts. "Why are there so many types again? Isn't it just… flour?"
Three looked at all the shelves, packed with many different brands and many different labels. There… probably was a reason to that, but like many things, she had absolutely no idea what it was. Everything was always complicated, anyway… Cod, why were they alone to do this? They clearly were both not prepared to any of this.
"I… don't know either." She picked out a random pack of flour, prayed it'd work, and dropped it gently into the cart. "Be careful not to drop it."
Eight winced. "Yeah, it happened once with Marina... It flew everywhere. It was a disaster to clean up…"
Cleaning up flour was the absolute worst, so that's probably why she didn't have any at her own home. You know, preventing the risk. And because she never cooked anything with it. She wasn't an expert at cooking anyway (well, she wasn't bad at it either, she just was… fine) and usually made the same food over and over, and she knew she didn't need it much.
They took chocolate on their way out, once again just taking a random brand, because it was chocolate. There was no way it'd taste different anyway. However, they couldn't really find any party decorations anywhere. She guessed they'd have to find that in another shop. Three hoped it wouldn't take too long, because seeing so many people around was starting to make her nervous. She didn't deal with people well, especially not when there were a lot of strangers, and she couldn't wait to be somewhere calmer, because then she'd get to appreciate the calm, even if she was pretty sure it was going to be everything but calm once they'd get to the apartment.
They still had one thing to buy, though, and Three was obligated to go, but she still felt like it was going to be a bad idea somehow. She quickly found the aisle, and took a long breath. "Here are the cake decorations…" Before she could think of what she said though, she slipped : "You can take what you want."
Her mind instantly screamed. 'Oh cod. I shouldn't have said that, should I?'
Eight's eyes lit up and she looked at what was on the aisle with curious and enthusiastic eyes. "There's a lot," she commented, before she led out an audible gasp. "Oh, there's the little colors thingies!"
'Little colors thingies?' Three got closer, and looked at what the octoling was holding. "That's sprinkles," she told her, and Eight smiled brightly.
"I didn't know you could buy those! I always see them everywhere! Can we take some?" Before Three could even answer however, she had already dropped two cans of it into the cart.
Three couldn't do anything besides watch Eight take a lot of different types of sprinkles- the usual small ones, some pink ones that looked like little hearts, little stars, and many many others… because apparently, while it didn't matter for milk or flour, types of sprinkles were incredibly important. She also took colors (and a scary amount) of candles, because 'it'd look super great with all the sprinkles', and she started to wonder what kind of look the cake would end up having. She couldn't refuse any of this, of course. Because she had been a fool, and for once didn't think before she talked. And stopping Eight would make her sad, and she would never do that . Now, as a punishment, she just had to watch the many, many decorations drop into the cart.
When Three thought the pile of decorations was already big enough however, Eight took out a can of something on the shelf. She frowned slightly. "What is this?"
Three quickly looked over and read the package. Her ink turned cold instantly. '...Four. I am sorry for this.'
"It's… um… edible glitter…"
Eight turned her head to stare at her.
Her eyes didn't even let go of Three as, with a swift movement of the arm, she dropped every single can of the edible glitter into the cart.
'...I'm so, so sorry.'
Three was beginning to really, really fear for that cake.
The afternoon looked great already.