Chapter Text
Four pressed her brush to the turf and ran as fast as her legs would carry her. She chanced a look at the turf map up on the big screen and cringed; this would be rough.
She skirted around a corner and ran right into an inkling on the enemy team. He started firing on her with his Gal, but she lifted her brush and began wailing on him even sooner. She slapped him around until he splatted all over the walls, and then promptly continued forward, once again grateful for her naturally large ink sac; she should be able to make it to time without needing to submerge. And if her teammates pulled their weight, then maybe they’d be able to eke out a victory here.
She bit a curse off her tongue and jumped back as a charger blast crossed her path. She looked up just in time to see their squiffer eyeing her from some nearby high ground, and, panicking, tossed an autobomb up at her, which only really served to waste the rest of her ink supply. She swam back through the path she’d taken to get there and resurfaced as soon as she encountered enemy ink. But just as she began to swing her brush, a buzzer reverberated through her eardrums, and the announcer called out a heart-sinking, “TIME!”
Four huffed and slammed her forehead against the handle of her inkbrush before superjumping back to her spawn. When she arrived, Ricky and Meagan were already there. She landed wordlessly, and a second later, Leo finished solidifying and emerged from the spawn grate. He at least spared her a sympathetic glance as they turned their eyes to the screen.
“Results are just coming in, and…” the announcer paused as the numbers on the screen ticked up and finally came to a stop. “Team Shellshock takes it forty-eight to forty-three, closing out the set two to nothing!”
“Quite the impressive showing for their seed,” said his co-commentator. “And an unfortunate upset for Fresh Ink, getting knocked out of the bracket so early.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Four saw Ricky scowl. He turned his head down to the side, and crossed his dualies under each arm, grumbling something under his breath.
“Indeed. Well, Shellshock did an excellent job shutting down Lynn, which gave them a lot of room to work with. Those early splats against her really stunted Fresh Ink’s offense, and the other members of her team just weren’t able to hold their own without her.”
“And I think it’s telling that even through all the focus Shellshock put on her, Lynn still managed to score the most points on her team,” the other commentator went on. “And while that’s understandable for, say, Leo on the charger, their slosher and especially dualies really should’ve been able to put more ink on the ground.”
Ricky’s grimace worsened. Meagan’s grip on her slosher grew white-knuckled. Leo refused to look at anyone else. And Four just sighed.
“Definitely. Well, anyway, we’ll be seeing Shellshock once again in the quarter finals. Next up, we’ve got a match that’s sure to be interesting…”
“Bullshit,” Ricky fumed as soon as they got back into their locker room. “Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit!”
Four didn’t acknowledge him. Instead, she shrugged off her ink tank, pulled her sweaty jersey over her head, and hoisted her inkbrush over her lap to fiddle with the nozzles. It didn’t really need maintenance, but she would rather be distracted right now.
“It was a fucking turf war—that’s always been our weakest mode!” Ricky continued, slinging his dualies into his locker and slamming the door. “Seriously, who does that announcer think he is? Sorry we can’t all be prodigies like little miss Lynn over here!”
Four cringed, and scraped some dried ink off her brush.
“Hey now,” Leo said. “None of us are happy with this losing streak, but you don’t need to take it out on captain.”
“It’s just so frustrating!” Meagan griped, slumping down on one of the benches. “We used to be competitive in majors, and now we can’t even make quarter finals in a local.”
“We’re just in a slump,” Leo said. “It happens to everyone! Before you know it, we’ll be back and better than ever.”
“Maybe once you learn how to hit a shot,” Ricky snapped.
Four turned her best glare on Ricky. “Stop that.”
“Yeah, Ricky,” Meagan sneered. “I saw your K/D. Don’t talk shit if you’re already wallowing in it yourself.”
“I said stop that,” Four said, turning on Meagan now. She at least had the decency to look guilty, mumbling a quiet ‘sorry’ and turning away.
Ricky, on the other hand, just looked even more incensed, but he seemed to understand the mood Lynn was in right now, and kept his mouth shut. It was a few moments before Leo spoke up again; quieter this time, and lacking his usual cheerfulness.
“Hey, uh, Lynn…”
Four looked up. “Yeah?”
“What happens if we lose our sponsorship?”
Four turned back to her brush and sighed. “I don’t know.”
“We’re fucked straight to Sunday is what,” Ricky seethed. “We’d have to rely on raw tournament earnings, which aren’t exactly coming our way too frequently right now.”
“Yeah, and whose fault is that?” Meagan mumbled.
Ricky’s eyebrow twitched. “What’d you say?”
“I said it’s your damn fault we’re losing!” Meagan yelled, throwing up a hand. “Between your half-assed effort, shitty temper, and utter lack of any sliver of strategic thinking, you’re more of an obstacle than the enemy team!”
“Christ, Meg, who do you think you are?! I’ll 1v1 you any day of the goddamn week, and we’ll be wiping your sorry insides off of the practice arena for hours!”
Leo wrung his hands together awkwardly. “Guys, I really don’t think—”
“Shut up, Leo! Stay out of this!”
Four massaged her temple; she was feeling a headache coming on. For some reason, she felt as if she understood Three a little better now. And if that wasn’t a bad sign, she didn’t know what was.
“God, Ricky, you’re insufferable!” Meagan cried. “I think you’ve insulted every member of this team in the last five minutes. We’re tired of your shit! I don’t even know why Lynn puts up with you at all!”
“Don’t know why she puts up with me? What about you? Always putting words in her mouth like you’re her best friend and shit. Huh, Lynn?”
Four felt three sets of eyes on her as she stood up, forehead still clutched in one hand. “I think,” she enunciated, “that I’m not having fun on this team anymore.”
“Oh,” Meagan said.
“W-well,” Leo mumbled, “losing isn't fun for anyone, but I think that if we keep trying, we can still turn this around.”
“It’s not that we’re losing,” Four said. “I can lose and have fun. I’ve got a friend I train with sometimes—I’ve pretty much never beaten her, but I always have a great time. Even though she can be kind of a bitch. But when every single loss is followed by all this complaining and arguing, suddenly I feel myself wanting to just not bother. Have you ever considered that the reason we’re performing worse than before is because our teamwork has faltered? Not to mention our morale.”
Ricky crossed his arms. “Well, maybe if Meagan could help herself from insulting me every two seconds, I’d be more upbeat about the whole ordeal.”
Four sighed. “Look. I’m not super happy with her right now, either, but you’re the main problem, Ricky.”
“Are you kidding?” Ricky made a face of pure indignation. It looked kind of like roadkill. “How on Earth is this my fault?”
Four felt like she was about to pop a blood vessel. “Seriously? We were barely a foot into the locker room before you started complaining and spitting up any excuses you could rationalize. It’s exhausting. You either need to find a better attitude, or a different team.”
The room went still. Leo looked nervously back and forth between Lynn and Ricky, fiddling with his charger. Meagan was just kind of sitting there with an ‘oh shit’ expression on her face.
“Fine,” Ricky said, grabbing his dualies. “You guys can keep on losing without me. I’m out.”
“Don’t forget to do the paperwork!” Four called as he walked towards the door. “It can be a real hassle!”
“Fuck you, Lynn!” he shouted, slamming the door behind him.
“Well damn,” Meagan said after a beat. “So… okay, then.”
“You were right, Meg,” Four grumbled. “I was tired of his shit.”
“Oh wow. I’m not sure I’ve heard you swear before.”
Four sighed and cupped her face in her hands. “Yeah, well, I’m really tired and stressed out right now.”
“I think you made the right choice,” Leo said cautiously. “Ricky, he’s… he’s great, but, he, uh, has some issues?”
“I hope you’re right,” Four said. “We don’t have a replacement lined up, and if we can’t find one soon…”
Meagan nodded. “Then we can’t play in any tournaments. Yeah.”
“Well, he played point, so that’s good at least,” Leo said. “If he’d been an anchor or a mid, replacing him would be even harder.”
“I don’t suppose you guys have anyone in mind?” Four asked. They both shook their heads. “Alright, well. I’m sure I’ll be able to find someone.”
Meagan put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey. You’re a great captain, Lynn, and you’ve been a great friend ever since school. Hell, you’re the reason any of us, Ricky included, had a chance to play in the big leagues. Ricky may be an ungrateful little bastard, but we really appreciate you picking us to be on your team, and we’re here for you, okay?”
“Yeah,” Leo said. “We’ll find a new teammate, and we’ll be back on our feet in no time. You’re Lynn Lothamer, youngest squid to ever win the National Turf War Championship! You got this.”
Four smiled. “Thanks, guys. Alright. Be on your lookout for talent; I want a full team again by the end of the week.” She stood up, pulling her street clothes on over her undershirt. “We’re going to need to practice extra hard if we want to integrate a new member into our rhythm.”
“There we go!” Meagan said. “That’s more like it! Let’s do this!”
“Yeah!” Four said, pumping a fist. “Fresh Ink’s looking for a comeback, baby!”
Four’s goal-oriented enthusiasm drained in record time, and two hours later, she found herself walking up to the frozen aisle of MakoMart, opening one of the freezers, and shoveling containers of rocky road ice cream into her basket.
“What the fuck.”
Four turned and saw Three standing a few feet away with her own cart, which was filled with a much more balanced selection of food products. Four looked from cart to cart, and felt her cheeks grow a little bit yellow. Of course today was the day she randomly ran into Three in public. “Look, I had a bad day, okay?”
“Apparently. I’m honestly more offended by the fact that it’s all rocky road. Like, I get that you have the worst possible taste imaginable, but could you at least have a wide variety of awful tastes?”
“If you could only ever eat pizza or rats for the rest of your life, would you ever choose the rats just for variety’s sake? No! That’d be stupid!”
“Well, tough luck, because you ran into me,” Three said, grabbing a tub of vanilla and throwing it in Four’s basket. “There. Now I’ll be able to sleep tonight. Also: that was a weird ass analogy you just used.”
Four huffed. “Whatever. Hey, uh, Three, it’s funny we ran into each other, because I’m actually looking for—”
“Sorry, I’d love to stay and chat, but I can hear the watermelons calling to me, so—”
“Come on, Three! I’m really in a bind here. At least hear me out, alright?”
Three performed the singular most dramatic eye roll Four had ever borne witness to, and then let out an equally theatrical sigh, just to really drive the point home, Four guessed. “I suppose. But make it quick. Eight only likes one very specific brand of peanut butter and it’s a bitch to find.”
“Great!” Four said, totally ignoring all of Three’s nonsense. “So, you know I’m a professional turfer, right?”
“It baffles me endlessly, but, yes, I am aware.”
“So, one of my teammates—he was the other point player, besides me, on dualies—he had to quit the team this morning, and it was kind of sudden. So we’re looking for a new member, and since you’re literally the best player I’ve ever met, it’d be a huge help if you could fill in for—”
“No,” Three said, before angling her cart down an aisle and walking off.
“Wait wait wait!” Four said, running along after her. “Please just think about it! I complimented you and everything!”
“I don’t need to think about it,” Three said, turning to grab a box of cereal. She briefly looked at the ingredients label before shrugging and dumping three of them into her cart. “This isn’t exactly the first time you’ve brought it up. Did you think my answer would change?”
Four groaned, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. “Three, I’m super desperate, and I’m asking as a friend. Look, you wouldn’t even have to stay on—just until we can find someone else!”
“No,” Three repeated. “Do you know where they keep the brownie mix? Eight said she’s never had brownies before and I need to fix that.”
“That’s horrible. Aisle five, I think.” Four paused. “And why not? Do you really hate the idea of working with me that much?
That, it seemed, finally got Three to stop thinking about groceries, because she turned to Four and gave her a stare that toed the line between ‘Are you kidding me?’ and ‘Bitch what the fuck?’. “Four. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but the fact that you’d be on the team with me is literally the only thing you’ve got going for you.”
“Oh,” Four said, because it was the only thing coming to mind.
“I give tours to people who don’t even bother to remember my name when it’s printed on my goddamn shirt, and that gives me anxiety like you wouldn’t believe. You really think I could get up in front of a stadium where I’m the main fucking event? I mean, god, can you imagine me with fans? That’d just be awful.
“And besides,” she added, beginning to push her cart again, “even if I did want to, I couldn’t. I’ve got a job. And now with Eight living with me, there’s just no way I could balance all that; I’ve got a lot of shit to get done.” She gave Four a pointed look. “Like grocery shopping.”
Four rubbed her arm. “Right. Sorry I asked.”
“Apology accepted.”
Four paused, her mind going back to something Three had said at the beginning of her big rant. “Wait. You give tours?”
Three froze. “Shit.”
Before Four knew what was happening, Three kicked out in a leg-sweep, causing Four to crash to the ground. She let out a squeak of surprise and pain, spilling her basket of ice cream all over the ground, and watched as Three ran forward and jumped, cart-surfing her way across the rest of the aisle before making a sharp turn out of sight.
“Rude,” Four murmered, picking herself back up. Guh.
You know, that would probably be a great disarming move with her brush if she got the hang of it. It would totally be legal, too, as long as she used her brush and not her leg. If Three wouldn’t play herself, then Four was at least happy to steal her techniques.
She made her way to an open register, and slammed down her basket of ice cream. The clerk looked as if she were going to say something, but Four beat her to punch, simply saying, “It’s been a long day.”
The cashier frowned. “Yeah, but… rocky road?”
Four grit her teeth and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just… what’s my total?”
When Four returned to her apartment, Marie was already there, sitting in her armchair and reading the latest issue of some music magazine. Four rolled her eyes as she shut the front door and hung up her keys, grabbing her bags of ice cream and walking into her apartment. Marie showing up randomly in her (locked) apartment was a much more common occurrence than it had any right to be; not that she really minded. Her and Marie were super close, and it was nice to see her so often, if occasionally frustrating how easily she seemed to bypass Four’s apartment security. But right now, Four didn’t know if she wanted to talk, or just to be alone.
“Marie, what are you doing here?” she asked. “How did you get in?”
“What’s up, baby?” Marie said, dodging the question as usual. She closed her magazine and hurled it over her shoulder, where it crashed into a bookcase. “I was in the neighborhood. Thought I might drop by. But you were out, so I made myself at home. You know: to give you a nice surprise for the eyes for when you got back.”
Four sighed. “Stop with the flirting, Marie. I’m not in the mood.”
Marie looked at her quizzically as she passed her. Four flung open the fridge, and began stuffing it with the tubs of ice cream, leaving one out on the counter. As she fumbled with the packaging, Marie spoke up from behind her.
“Sorry,” she began, her voice much more genuine than most people ever heard from her. “Does that make you uncomfortable? I think it’s funny since you’re ace and all but if you want me to stop—”
“No, no, it’s—” Four grunted, ripping the plastic off in one grand gesture. “It’s fun, usually. I just had a bad day today.”
“Ah. Well that explains the ice cream.” She hopped up on the counter, crossing her legs. “Professional turfer woes again?”
“Yeah. We got into another fight, and I kind of snapped at Ricky, and so he quit the team.”
“Oh damn.” Marie paused. “Honestly, kind of sounds like a change for the better.”
“Probably. Meg thinks so. But I still feel bad; I’ve been friends with him since high school. I mean, that’s true for all of them, and Ricky I recruited more for ability than personality, but I can’t help but feel like I’m throwing a long-term friendship in the trash over some dumb game.”
Marie shrugged. “People change. I mean, look at Three.”
“I’ve only known her for a few months, remember?”
“Oh yeah, I always forget that. You two just seem so close.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Well, anyway, Three was a totally different person back when we first met. Imagine all her current character facets stuffed into an angsty sixteen-year-old body, and then add in even more identity and self-worth issues. It was a disaster. But now, she’s mostly a functional member of society.” She smirked. “I almost feel like a proud older sister.”
Four dug a spoon out of the utensil drawer and popped open the ice cream tub’s lid. “I think I lost track of your point sometime along the way.”
“Well, if Three can make that much personal progress in two years, I think it’s understandable that Ricky can go the other way, you know? From everything you told me about him, he was not a good team player, and he was stressing you out a ton. I think you’re gonna have a lot more fun playing without him.”
“If we can keep playing. It’s not as easy as you’d think to find decent replacement players.” Four shoveled a few spoonfuls of ice cream into her mouth. “Hey, you want any ice cream? I think I may have bought too much.”
Marie gave her a flat look. “That depends. Got anything that isn’t rocky road?”
“Excuse you!” Four cried, her mouth still full. “Why does everybody hate rocky road?!”
“It’s disgusting,” Marie. “Why would you do that to chocolate ice cream?”
“You sound like Three,” Four said.
“Rude.”
“I got one thing of vanilla,” Four grumbled out after a moment. “I don’t even want it, so you can have it.”
“Sweet.”
Eight was laying down on her and Three’s bed, scrolling through her phone. She was reading a recent Inkopolis Times article, headlined “Off the Hook Wedding Announced as Private.” Apparently, a decent sector of people were upset that their wedding wouldn’t also double as a concert, which was honestly a very stupid thing to think, even for native surface-dwellers.
Most of the info was stuff she already knew, though. She sighed and closed out of the app, looked at her various other apps, and then rolled her eyes and went on that dumb construction site infinite runner Pearl had gotten her to download when she had first gotten her phone.
But just as she was getting going, her game was interrupted by an incoming call from Four.
“Hello, this is Eight!”
“Hi Eight, it’s Four! Hey, are you looking for a job?”
“No.”
“Oh.” Four went quiet for a second. “Well, if someone offered you a job, would you take it?”
“Maybe,” Eight said. “Are you offering me a job?”
“Uh, yeah! My pro turfing team needs a new player, and you’d be perfect!”
“Um, well. I guess I like turfing. But I’ve never considered doing it professionally.”
“Don’t worry, you’d kill it!”
“Hmm. I dunno…”
“I mean, don’t you get bored with Three at work all day?”
“I mean a little.”
“Don’t you wanna make new friends?”
“Yeah…”
“Don’t you want to help support your girlfriend financially, since she’s now paying for your apartment and food?”
Eight frowned. “Are you trying to guilt trip me?”
“Um.” Four went quiet again. “You know what that is?”
“Marina did it to Pearl constantly,” Eight explained. “Well, ignoring that, you make a good case. Let me just check in with Three first.”
“Wait don’t!” Four said quickly. “She’s just gonna say no! Besides, you don’t need her permission.”
“I just want her opinion. Why would she say no?”
“Because she’s Three!” Four exclaimed. “Look, why don’t you just come to one practice with us to see how you like it, okay? What Three doesn’t know won’t hurt us.”
“…Okay,” Eight relented. “What do I need to do?”
“Just come by Deca Tower tomorrow at two! Oh, and bring your turfing stuff, obviously.”
“Alight,” Eight said. “See you then, I guess?”
“See you then!” Four said cheerily, before the line clicked dead.
Eight pulled the phone away from her ear. The screen returned to her game, and the Inkling immediately slammed into a wrecking ball and splatted.
Eight sighed. “Darn it, Four.”