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[446, pay attention!]
Nami was jolted out of her daze by her commander’s sharp reproach. She blinked twice beneath her tactical visor, heads-up display flashing against her retinas as it displayed information on the seven other Octolings who were clustered around her - including her black-haired commander, whose kelp decorations swayed back and forth as she shook her head disapprovingly.
[Always daydreaming.] the Elite growled, and Nami shrank back, feeling a bite of indignation rising up at her commander’s tone. [Having pleasant thoughts? Anything you want to share with the squad?]
[No, ma’am.] she replied quietly. [Just… tired.]
[I’m tired too.] she heard one of her squadmates whisper - loud enough that she definitely meant for Nami to hear. [Tired of hauling around her spacey ass - ]
[This is the fourth time this week.] their leader said, cutting off the other Octoling with a sharp gesture. Though the girl fell silent, a smug smile remained on her face as the commander turned back towards Nami. [I’ve been more than lenient - next time you’re taking a trip to Central for some reminders on how to focus on patrol. Understood?]
[Yes, ma’am.]
[And wipe that fucking smile off your face, 803!] the Elite snapped at the grinning Octoling, who only shrugged her shoulders as the woman led them further into the patrol zone. Nami tried not to grimace, or to return any of her squadmates’ glances, as she followed with dragging feet.
The zapfish field patrols were something she’d come to dislike more and more as time went on. On paper, they were the most basic of basics - the majority of the squad was assigned to a particular section of the field, while the commander and one or two others patrolled between the sections in order to cover any blind spots. Any Octarian could chart a zapfish field patrol route in their sleep.
But the reason that Nami hated them was because they only served as a reminder that she was considered dead weight by the rest of her squad. She was always stationed by herself, close enough to one of the zapfish that it could still be considered her responsibility, but always further away from it than the soldier in the next section over, who’d be considered to be pulling double duty to make up for Nami’s incompetence. She was on the furthest edge of the field, out of the way of her 'more capable' squadmates.
And today was no different. Just like usual, she was stationed alone in section four, trying to stifle an exasperated sigh for fear that she’d do so while her mic was live and get chewed out on the squad’s communication channel, instead of just to her face.
Nami shifted on her feet and glanced through the numerous metal girders and cracks in the concrete walls that surrounded her. This field was an absolute mess - she wondered what facility could possibly be drawing power from such a dilapidated sector of their territory.
A flicker at the edge of her periphery startled her out of her thoughts, and Nami jumped to attention, scanning the hallway. Her readout didn’t detect any signs of activity - everything seemed to be pretty nominal. Just her imagination?
[Units, check in.] Nami heard the voice of her captain crackle over her headset.
[803, situation normal.]
[This is 735, found some recently-shifted debris in section nine. Moving to investigate with 701.]
Nami dutifully reported how nothing had happened in her section, then sighed, running a hand through her tentacles.
She wasn’t even that bad of a soldier, honestly - her scores in the training modules were decent, and she was loyal enough. It wasn’t like she took pride in spacing out on assignments. It was just that the sound of the Inkantation had been… mesmerizing. It’d gotten stuck inside her head and was still rattling around. Kept her up at night, replaying it over and over in her head to make sure she didn’t forget it. Whenever there was a dull moment, Nami found her thoughts inevitably turning back to that melody. It made her imagine the surface, and what kind of people lived there - what kind of people the Inklings were, fighting each other for recreation.
And honestly, who could blame her? Sullenly, Nami compared the vibrant vision given to her by the Inkantation with the dull and tedious reality that was her patrol squad. Six jerks and an elite jerk who didn’t even know her name - she’d checked.
As Nami stepped across the threshold of the next ruined doorway, another shadow flashed by at the edge of her vision, this time accompanied by a distinct rustling sound that displayed on the inside of her visor. A chill raced up her back - not her imagination this time. Someone was here.
Nami snapped her Octoshot up and let loose with a flurry of shots, splattering purple ink all along the crumbling walls and cracked tile floors. Her eyes darted from side to side, trying to process the incoming information that was registering on her HUD.
No vital signs, no residual heat signature, but something had passed by her. The biting thought occurred to her that it might be one of her patrolling squadmates trying to psyche her out, but she bitterly swallowed the thought. Unlike her, obviously, they took their jobs seriously.
Frustration stewing in her gut, Nami turned and fired another burst, covering the floor ahead of her. She moved forward again, and stepping into the room beyond, the sight of a slanted concrete pillar that stretched up from the floor to a nearby catwalk overhead stirred something in Nami that distracted her from the irritation. She inked a straight path up the pillar, then paused, observing the lines that she had painted on the floor.
This was… okay, right?
It would all fade on its own, and it wasn’t like she’d run out, so no one could even accuse her of being wasteful. The thought emboldened her, and she started to pick targets out of rusted support struts and dislodged chunks of rubble as she walked, feeling an occasional swell of pride when she landed a particularly difficult shot, feeling an odd sort of satisfaction coming over her as she observed the floor becoming more and more covered over in her violet ink.
Distantly, Nami thought that this must be what that Inkling sport was like. It was all about inking the most territory, wasn’t it? She smiled, imagining a squad of Inklings facing off against her, their weapons firing as they retreated from her advance. She moved quickly and skillfully after them, covering over their ink colors with her own, excitement beginning to pump in her ears as she moved swiftly across the room and fired her Octoshot along the floor and walls.
Take that, Inklings! This victory is going to Nami!
A chuckle escaped her, and she whipped around, imagining another squid ducking down into their ink to avoid the hail of shots that she sent their way. She hunched lower to the ground, eyes scanning left to right, up and down in search of her next target, and it took a long moment for her to realize that the figure of Agent 4, looking down on her from the nearby walkway, wasn’t just in her imagination.
The sight of the yellow-headed Inkling, standing casually on the walkway with a shooter in one hand and a zapfish in the other - her zapfish - hit Nami like a punch to the gut. She reeled, thoughts scattering in an instant, Octoshot held half-ready, malformed tactics and responses to an enemy presence smashing against each other in her mind.
She had never actually encountered an enemy combatant before - only ever run combat simulations and heard other squads talk about their own encounters with the Splatoon. While Agent 4 didn’t have the same dreadful reputation as Agent 3, he was still a renowned fighter who had stolen over a dozen zapfish without being splatted once.
The decision to shoot the squid won out, but before she could put it into effect, he spoke.
“Do you speak Inkling?” the boy called with a smile.
“Yes!”
Her reply was immediate, almost reactive, and came out as a surprised squeak.
What was that?
The boy jumped down from the walkway, making Nami flinch, and started towards her at a relaxed pace. The Octoling swallowed, hands tightening on her Octoshot.
What was she doing? She was a soldier, and this squid had her zapfish! She couldn’t just stand here and cower in front of… in front of a squid!
“Stop there!” she snapped, hoping she sounded forceful and aiming her weapon at the boy. “Closer, I fire!”
He slowed to a stop, eyes flicking between her shooter and her face. She felt her mouth tighten into a thin line, though a bit of pride flickered up amidst the panic. Alright, she’d gotten him to stop - what now?
“What’s your name?”
Again, he spoke without warning. Nami bit down on her answer, keeping her aim on the boy - he was full of openings, not even trying to appear dangerous. Was he trying to say that he didn’t think she was a threat?
And actually, what was he still doing here? Nami wasn’t between him and any exits, and he already had the zapfish. Why would he not only stick around, but openly approach her? Purposefully attract her attention? Greet her?
As these questions ran through her head, Agent 4 adjusted his grip on the zapfish and shifted his weight. “I’m Coda.” he said, flashing another smile that broke through her thoughts. Though she still offered no reply, she could feel some of the tension leaving her body.
This boy was so… disarming. Nothing like the reports she’d heard of the Splatoon agents. He was obviously skilled, or he wouldn’t have been able to take the zapfish from under her nose - she wasn’t that oblivious - but he gave no signs of wanting to fight. She didn’t understand.
Seeing that she was determined to remain silent, the agent glanced over towards the section of floor that she had just been inking a moment ago. “Looked like you were having fun.” he mused, nodding to himself. “You like turfing?”
A hot flush broke out on Nami’s face, and she grimaced, aiming her shooter right between his shiny orange eyes. “Be quiet!” she snapped, trying to ignore the shame rolling around in her gut at the thought of this Inkling watching on, amused, as she fooled around on patrol. How could she be so stupid!?
“Okay.” Agent 4 replied, giving a shrug of his shoulders. He lifted his shooter, and for a moment Nami felt her hearts stop - her weapon was already at the ready, she should be able to pull the trigger before he even brought his own shooter up, but she completely locked up, a surge of fear blowing everything else away.
But even as she cringed away, already able to feel his ink burning at her skin, the Inkling aimed his shooter at the large puddle of ink she’d sprayed onto the floor and peppered the area with a burst of shots, completely covering over the purple with a yellow-gold hue.
Nami looked between the puddle and the agent, confused, as he cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “It’s not really turf war without an opponent, you know.” he said casually.
The sight of him poised so confidently, so cockily, threw Nami completely off balance. Her system, which had just been flushed free of its anxiety and shame, was immediately filled with biting indignation and frustration.
Did this squid think she was a joke? Was he really just… brazenly challenging her to a fight like this? He couldn’t even use one of his hands, and he’d still just strolled cozily up to her and started a conversation as easily as if he were talking about the cafeteria menu! She’d never heard of one of the Splatoon’s agents speaking to a soldier this way. Was he underestimating her that much?
Nami grit her teeth, a flash of her jeering squadmates passing through her mind, and jabbed a finger at the boy. “You! (Stupid squid!)” she snapped, only realizing dimly that she’d slipped into a mixture of Inkling and Octarian. “Fight me? (We’ll see who’s smiling when I kick your ass,) zapfish back, (and boot your cocky face) to surface!”
“If you think you can.” he grinned, lightly bouncing the zapfish up and down in his palm. “I’m pretty good at turf war, though, you know?”
Aggravation seizing hold of her, Nami thrust herself forward, snapping her weapon up into position and loosing a trio of shots that the agent sidestepped with an easy motion. In reply, he pointed his own shooter downward and swept it from one side to the other, painting a yellow line between the two of them.
Fangs clenched against another angry retort at the boy’s smile which had yet to leave his face, Nami followed after him, Octoshot firing. Almost like he was dancing, Agent 4 skipped backwards, ink splattering against the floor and walkways which surrounded them, not a trace of violet on his body as he dipped and weaved between Nami’s ink shots. A stinging sensation began to rise up behind her agitation. pricking hotly behind her eyes as she advanced.
Again, she shot. Again, he evaded! Again, he inked the terrain, stepping smoothly backwards away from Nami’s encroaching weapons fire.
He wasn’t even fighting back. He was just playing with her.
“Fight!” she demanded, hearing her own voice waver as she stepped forward. The Inkling, weapon finally depleted, lunged forward suddenly, and as Nami ducked down to avoid the grab that she knew was coming, she instead felt a wave of shock pass through her as the agent leaped over her head, grinning wide as he dove neatly into a pool of yellow ink which lay behind her.
What was the point of this!?
Nami turned to face the Inkling, finding her vision impaired. She blinked and felt something wet run down her cheek.
Was she…
She could not be. Not right now!
Hurriedly, Nami lifted her visor, rubbing at her eyes with the sleeve of her uniform, then glanced up to see Agent 4 leaning against a nearby piece of rubble. The Inkling was balancing the zapfish on top of his head, and its whiskers waved from side to side as he turned his head to survey the scene.
“Not getting a lot of ink on the turf.” he mused loudly. “Might want to aim lower.”
“Stop!”
The sight of him so blatantly disregarding her attacks was too much. They were in combat, and he was sightseeing! As the boy turned to fix his bright amber eyes on Nami, the Octoling felt her shoulders shaking, frustration and shame boiling together inside of her.
Nobody would blame her for failing to defeat the agent - not even her, the squad’s little disappointment. The best of the best had tangled with the Splatoon’s forces and failed to come out on top. Nami, who spaced out on missions and couldn’t defeat any of her squadmates in single combat - even she would be forgiven for failing.
But this wasn’t combat! This was a game! She was being teased. Not even the enemy saw her as an actual soldier. Her hearts constricted painfully, tightening into an awful bunch in her chest that made it hard to breathe.
“Why you play?” she snapped, hating how her voice trembled, how she could still feel more tears brimming at the edges of her vision. “We fight! I take zapfish! Shoot me!”
Agent 4 blinked, massaging his temples with the end of his gun as he regarded her. Slowly, an embarrassed light entered his eyes.
“No, no, you got it all wrong.” he said easily, stepping away from the wall and standing on the opposite side of the room from Nami. “I didn’t actually want to fight you, this is just turf war.”
“Turf war!”
Again that phrase he used. Nami narrowed her eyes, hissing the words.
“Yeah! Like… watch, okay?”
Ink tank replenished from his dive into the liquid, Agent 4 lifted his shooter, pointing it away from Nami. As she watched, he squeezed the trigger, and a barrage of yellow ink flew across the concrete, covering everything in the boy’s sheen.
“And now, you shoot it.”
Nami’s brow knit together in confusion and suspicion as she regarded the Inkling, but he merely shrugged his shoulders and gestured towards the ink puddle. Reluctantly, keeping him in the edge of her vision in case he decided to suddenly make a break for it - the squids were clearly much more duplicitous than she’d heard - the soldier complied, firing with her Octoshot and covering over the yellow ink with a coating of purple.
As she did so, Agent 4 grinned and spread his arms wide, as if he were trying to encompass the entire hall.
“Do that for the whole floor, and try to cover the most turf!” he remarked. “If you ink more than me, you win!”
The pieces clicked into place as Nami looked at the boy, mouth hanging open in surprise. Not combat, but a contest? No…
“Sport?”
“Yeah, exactly!”
Seeing the astonished look on her face, Agent 4 sighed, stepping gingerly over a splash of purple ink that she had shot earlier and walking up to her. Nami flinched as he approached, conflicting emotions and thoughts jumbling up in her mind. He stopped within arm’s length, and the Octoling searched his face for traces of ill intent.
“Didn’t mean to make you cry.” he said apologetically, and Nami felt another hot flush rise on her face. He held the zapfish out towards her. “Here, go ahead and take it back. I’ll fight you for it fair and square next time.”
Nami didn’t move, widened eyes locked onto the Inkling’s.
He had seen her earlier, spraying ink around like a fool, and realized that she was imitating what she’d heard about the Inkling sport. Turf war, he called it?
And instead of splatting her, or taking the zapfish and leaving while she was distracted with her own useless, idle thoughts, he’d come up to her and tried to join in.
A small smile played across his face as she stared, and it was with a jolt that she realized she was smiling too - only a little, but still. She hastily turned away, putting a hand to her burning cheek and trying to calm her hearts which were suddenly thumping wildly in her chest.
This wasn’t good. She… liked that. The idea that he’d invited her to play, instead of treating her like everyone else did - a disappointment. The thought of her commander discovering that she’d fooled around on patrol was enough to make her wince, but…
“Here, you gonna take it?”
“No.”
Nami shoved the zapfish back into the boy’s chest, hard enough to make him step back, and tried to ignore her quickening pulse as she stared him in the eyes. “We fight.” she answered firmly. “Turf sport. I win fair.”
A bright smile crossed his features - warm, not like the smug grin he’d worn earlier - and he nodded eagerly. “Sounds great to me!” he said, hoisting his shooter up to his shoulder. “But like I said - I’m pretty good at it.”
He bent lower down, bringing his face closer to hers, and she swallowed nervously without pulling away. At this distance, she could see herself in his gleaming eyes. Her hands tightened on her weapon.
“Ready,” the Inkling said softly, “and… go!”
They sprang apart, and Nami aimed her weapon at the wide paths of yellow ink that the agent had laid down, covering them over with purple. She landed and quickly rushed to the side, trying to get a better angle to contest his control of the field, forcing him back when he encroached too far onto her side of the hall.
And, watching the Inkling boy smile, hearing him laugh as he dodged and rolled, feeling her own rush of excitement returning, the room slowly began to brighten in Nami’s eyes. She could see the dilapidated fixtures and crumbling concrete less and less, replaced with a sparkling and neat arena filled with Inklings who dashed across ink of many vivid shades.
Though her focus on the contest only intensified, Nami found herself smiling as well.
She was finally face to face with an enemy combatant, one who held the zapfish that she was meant to protect in his hands, but she could almost forget that she was a soldier.
As the ink flew between the two of them, reaching skyward in colorful bursts, Nami found herself enthralled by turf war.
A little alarm rang in Nami’s ear, startling her back to herself, and she landed wrong in the agent’s ink, slipping and falling to the ground with a cry.
As the Octoling attempted to recover her footing, wincing at the stinging sensation of the golden ink on her exposed skin, she tried to organize her thoughts. That was the unit alarm, signalling the end of the patrol, which meant…
[Alright, everyone, pack it in. Time to head back to base. Sound off!]
A thrill of panic went through her body at the words, and she frantically tried to think of what to do as she heard her squadmates calling out their positions. Her zapfish was missing, and she hadn’t said anything about the agent being here! What was she supposed to do!?
Agent 4 approached her with a thoughtful look as she knelt in the ink, and her panic clearly showed on her face, since he crouched down next to her and pursed his lips as she raised a shaky hand to her tactical visor.
She’d been more than negligent, she’d been almost complicit in the zapfish theft.
How could she explain this? What would she do? She couldn’t even imagine what they’d do to her once they found out what she’d done.
[446, what’s your status?] she heard her commander demand, irritation bleeding into Nami’s ear. [I swear, if you’re dozing off again - ]
She swallowed, a rock-hard lump stuck in her throat as she raised a hand to her headset to switch on the transmitter. [I - ]
“EAT INK, OCTO GOON!” the Inkling bellowed, his mouth only inches from Nami’s cheek, and she fell back with a surprised shriek, Octoshot clattering to the floor.
Before she had time to demand what he was doing, or shout at him for sabotaging her chances of getting out of this, or even fully feel the mind-blinding panic that had spread like wildfire through her veins, Nami heard the voices of her squadmates in her ears.
[What was that?!]
[Sounded like an Inkling! The agent?]
[446, we’re en route! What’s your position!?]
[She was in section four, I think! I’m on my way!]
The voices came too quickly for her to respond to them. As her thoughts stuttered and halted alongside her hearts, the agent reached out and placed the zapfish in her arms.
“Looks like you win.” he smiled, gesturing around them, and it was only numbly that Nami could register that the majority of the floor was inked a dark purple.
She stared as he stood back up, twirling his shooter loosely around one finger. “Still don’t have your name, by the way.” he remarked. “Can I know the name of the octo who beat me?”
Nami didn’t understand this boy. There wasn’t any malice in his eyes, only a casual warmth on his face as he stood over her. For a moment, she could’ve sworn she saw him glow.
“Nami.” she answered quietly.
“Nice to meet you, Nami. I’m Coda.”
Distantly, she could hear the encroaching footfalls of her squadmates. The boy - Coda - must’ve heard them too, glancing towards the exit which lay behind her. For a moment he stood still, brow furrowed, and the Octoling could see the gears turning in his head. Then he glanced back towards her, grinned, and raised his shooter.
Nami gave another surprised cry as the boy shot her twice, yellow ink biting into her skin, and she felt her hearts quake violently in confusion as pain ran through her arms and torso.
What was he doing? Why was he shooting her now!? Weren’t they just -
Before she could finish the thought, she heard receding footfalls, and tried her best to shield herself from further harm as she glanced up to see Coda sprinting away from her towards another exit. “I’ll come back!” he called back to her. A moment later…
[There it is!]
[Open fire! Pursue it!]
Three of Nami’s squadmates burst through the door behind her, weapons hot, purple ink flying in tight bursts at the retreating form of Agent 4. He stopped at the doorway, half-turned to face her, and gave Nami a wink before disappearing around the corner, the trio of soldiers hot on his heels.
Nami blinked, cradling the zapfish in her arms, as the rest of her squad came in after the advance team and gathered around her. The other soldiers looked down at her with expressions of mixed shock and confusion as her commander glanced between her own ink-stained body, smeared with the agent’s yellow hue, and the doorway which he had fled through. Her eyes widened at the sight of the zapfish in Nami’s arms.
[446, you… drove the agent away?] the Elite murmured, sounding almost breathless in her surprise.
She looked up at her commander, mouth open in a conditioned effort to reply, but nothing came out. A jolt ran through her body at the memory of the Inkling’s smile, and she squeezed the zapfish tighter to her chest.
Her commander clicked her tongue and knelt down, gazing into Nami’s face. [She looks feverish.] the woman remarked, gently removing the zapfish from Nami’s grasp. [402, 554, get her to a medical ward. The rest of you, get after that Inkling!]
[Yes, ma’am!]
As the Octolings around her rushed to comply, Nami numbly raised a hand to her face once again. It felt hot under her fingertips, and her hearts gave another big jump at the sensation.
She wanted to see that Inkling again.
Coda stifled a yawn as he reclined in his chair, fighting to keep his eyes from glazing over. He raised his drink to his lips and took a sip, tapping on the table with his other hand.
Marie thought she was sooo funny. ‘Keep guard over Inkopolis Square,’ she’d said - as if she wasn’t just trying to bore him to tears as retribution for rolling his eyes at her suggestion of tighter patrols during their last meeting.
Well, at least the square was more interesting than it used to be. Since the Octolings had started making their way aboveground, Coda had gotten treated to a wide new array of… engaging new fashions, worn proudly by their cephalopod cousins. He wasn’t really sure he’d wear most of them, but sometimes, one had to know what one wouldn’t wear in order to determine what they would.
It took a moment for the boy to realize that someone had stepped up next to him, their shadow blocking his sunlight. He glanced up in disinterest, only to feel a twinge of excitement in his gut as he recognized the Octoling girl who he’d met down in the zapfish fields a few months ago. She was wearing a pretty stylin’ outfit instead of her black octo armor, and her tentacles were colored seafoam green now, but he would know that cute face anywhere.
“Hey there!” he said with a smile, scooting back his chair and standing up to greet her. He could finally see her eyes, now, no longer covered over by that sleek metal visor. “Nami, right?”
By way of answer, the girl pursed her lips and punched him squarely in the gut. He gasped as the wind left his body, crumpling forward.
Ouch!?
Confused and a little irritated - maybe not all octos understood that you’re supposed to punch the shoulder, not the gut - he straightened back up to find the girl’s head bowed, her other hand curled into a fist that trembled lightly at her side.
“Did not come back.” he heard the Octoling mutter under her breath. “Inkling liar.”
His smile returned at the pouting tone of her voice, and he gently removed her fist from his stomach with one hand, laying the other on her shoulder. Nami looked up at him, and Coda felt his hearts jump at the way her eyes sparkled - they were beautiful, a verdant shade of green that matched wonderfully with her new tentacle color.
“I’m sorry, Nami.” the boy spoke softly, patting her on the shoulder. “You weren’t there any of the other times I went down to get the zapfish. I should’ve asked for your schedule before I left.”
A blue blush spread across her face, and she averted her gaze, the edges of her mouth turned downward in a cute frown.
The Inkling’s smile widened at the memory of when he’d met the girl. She’d looked so charming, caught up in her play turf war with a smile on her face, and had only further captured his interest with the precious way that she blushed in embarrassment at having been caught. He’d thought it then, and he thought it now - this Octoling was absolutely adorable.
“...where is turf war?” Nami demanded.
Coda pointed over his shoulder. “Most popular place to turf is Deca Tower, right over there.” he replied smoothly. “If you’d like me to, I’d be happy to show you - “
He was interrupted, chest tightening wonderfully, as Nami grabbed him by the hand and started pulling him towards the building. Her hand felt so warm.
“You make it up.” the Octoling said firmly, not looking at him, though Coda could still see the girl’s blush coloring her ears. “Real turf war. We fight.”
“Sure thing.” he replied, holding on more firmly and feeling another little leap of happiness as Nami ducked her head in embarrassment. “As much as you’d like.”