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Octavio had screwed up many a times in his life. That much he knew.
His actions lost a war, a war which left his people in shambles, forced to move underground, forced to live without a sky. He had many regrets in his life, but not once did he ever regret fighting for the good of his people, even if it meant he fought dirty. It was a means to an end, and that was truly all he cared about.
And yet, here he was again, trapped in a snow globe for fighting for what he believed was right. He was wrong in some ways, he didn’t need to be told that, but it was the ways in which he was right that hurt to remember.
The Octarians would survive without him and the zapfish, they were resilient like that. Their lives weren’t perfect, and they were far from ideal, but that was okay to them. They had each other and they had their fighting spirit, and that was all they needed. And that knowledge allowed Octavio to remain at peace in his tiny prison.
However, his days were not as uneventful as he initially thought they would be.
The first time Octavio was imprisoned, he wasn’t visited very often, his only companions being the agents sitting by ensuring that he had not escaped. He got used to it, seeing their warped faces staring at him through the glass, sometimes without a word, and other times having full-on conversations. Never with him, obviously. It was always awkward when Cuttlefish stood watch, rarely saying a word and simply staring at his former companion. Any attempt at conversation was always short-lived, sputtering out before it could return to what it once was. It was both of their faults, truly. They were both to blame for the deterioration of their relationship, war or not.
But one day, when it was Cuttlefish’s turn to watch, he didn’t show up. In fact, he missed his entire week’s shift, and Octavio had begun to worry. He could’ve escaped by now, but it was no fun if Cuttlefish wasn’t there to face him again.
It was a week and a half later when he finally saw someone again. It was Callie, one of Cuttlefish’s granddaughters. She looked frantic as she tore through Cuttlefish’s shack, although he was unsure what exactly she was looking for. She looked off into the distance at Octo Valley, running a panicked hand over her tentacles. She looked down at her phone and began muttering something that Octavio couldn’t make out.
That’s when he saw an opening. He didn’t want to hurt Cuttlefish or his family, but this was an opportunity that he couldn’t pass up. He steeled his expression and made for the crack in the base of the snow globe, and with a hard enough whack, he punched a hole into the base. He slipped out and returned to a form he had not taken in years. The inkling was still distracted and Octavio made his move, slipping behind her and putting her into a chokehold. She kicked and fought, but the training she had been given by her grandfather could only do so much against his own raw experience. He whispered an apology as he felt her slowly lose consciousness and fall limp. This was an opportunity to help his people, and that’s how he forced himself to view it.
His triumph lasted nearly a month before he was bested yet again by Cuttlefish’s agents, yet there was still no sign of the elder squid. In fact, it would be several weeks before he would see his face again, and alongside it would be a new yet familiar face.
The octoling agent, “Eight” as she was referred to, was an interesting sight to see. Octavio knew that many octolings were escaping to the surface to live a new life, but he never expected one of his own to work alongside the Squidbeak Splatoon. It stung at first, the idea of his own kind fighting against him. No one directly told him that Eight never fought for the Splatoon, he was forced to put two and two together through listening in on conversations. He learned plenty about her from careless conversations had in his vicinity. He learned that she had no memories of who she was, that she was only referred to as Eight due to her being “subject number 10,008,” whatever that meant. She was curious yet quiet, terrified of hurting anyone yet always moving to attack when startled. She was an interesting kid, to say the least.
Eight was the first to actively try and talk with him.
It wasn’t deep conversation mind you, but it was better than anything he’d previously had with Cuttlefish and his agents. She primarily asked about life in Octarian civilizations, what it was like, how they lived, and why they fought. It was… difficult… to answer many of her questions. Octavio wanted her to have a positive view of her kind, so he occasionally skimmed around the less-than-ideal bits. Deep down he knew that she realized he wasn’t telling the entire truth, but he’d rather tell little white lies than destroy her hopes.
One day, she dove in too deep.
It was a particularly sunny day, and the cracked glass in front of the snow globe refracted the light in a way that stung his eyes. He had his back turned when he heard her come through the vent. He heard her brisk walk toward his tank and the soft crunch as she sat down. What startled him was the sound of her choking back tears.
He whipped around and saw her hunched over, her body shaking as sobs wracked her body.
“Kiddo, hey kiddo, you okay?” He spoke softly, careful not to startle her. She still jumped and he winced. He repeated his question, making sure she knew he was going to speak this time, and watched as she shook her head.
“I got into an argument with Three,” she choked out, sniffling for a moment. “I just asked xem a question and I… I just wanted to know if what you said about octarians was true, that was it! I just wanted to know why the Squidbeak Splatoon fought them when we all want the same thing! Why are we constantly fighting over the same resources when we could share them? When we could live our lives in harmony? I… I just…” She turned her head back towards the vent and hiccuped, clearly trying to stop herself from crying. Oh, that poor girl.
Octavio looked around and his gaze caught on the ever-growing crack in the glass. He had an idea, one that would likely come back to bite him in the future, but he didn’t care at that moment.
“Eight, you’re going to have to trust me for a moment, alright?” He spoke cautiously, watching his tone to make sure it didn’t sound like he was trying to trick her. She turned back towards him, eyes wide and curious yet still filled with tears. He took a deep breath,
“Eight, I need you to remove the tape that’s holding the glass together."
Her expression went from curious to enraged as she turned away and stood up. “Wow, really using me at my lowest to escape?! You really are exactly how everyone says!” she fumed, clutching her arms as tears continued to pour down her face. Shit.
“I really wanted to trust you, you know? One of the only people who would actually understand my experience, one of the few people who could tell me things exactly as they are instead of treating me like glass!” She took a shaky breath, “But nooo, here you are asking me to help you escape your confinement while I’m as vulnerable as can be! I just- I just wanted you to actually be a good person.” She turned away, still shaking like a leaf. Fuck it, he’d deal with the consequences later. He wound up and slammed his helmet into the already cracked glass, causing it to splinter, but not yet give. Dammit. He wound up once more and watched as the tape gave way to the cracks, but still refused to break. Third time’s the charm, he thought, and slammed with all his might against the crack, feeling it give way beneath him.
He spun as he launched out of his tank, hoping he’d be able to stick the landing and properly shift into his octoling form. He did, barely, but he still did it. Her back was still turned to him, she hadn’t even heard him smash the glass she was so distraught. He cleared his throat hoping to catch her attention, and she whipped around so fast she must have given herself a head rush. She paused in shock, having never seen Octavio’s octoling form other than in old photographs, and Octavio used it as an opening. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug, rubbing a hand on her back in an attempt to comfort her.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered gently, “I only asked so we’d get into less trouble for me doing this, it was never my intent to use you.” Eight remained frozen and Octavio worried that he had made the wrong decision, but then he felt her take a deep breath and wrap her arms tightly around him and bury her head in his chest as she sobbed. “Hey, shh shh shh, it’s okay, you’re going to be okay,” he soothed, resting his head on top of hers.
They stood there for a few minutes, Eight sniffling and crying as Octavio attempted to comfort her. As Eight’s crying began to subside, he asked “Want to sit back down?” Eight slowly nodded her head and Octavio shifted to lead her to the bench outside of the cabin. They sat down and Eight remained pressed against his side as he shifted to wrap an arm around her shoulders.
“Want to talk about it?” Eight remained still for a moment before cautiously nodding her head. Octavio shifted slightly so that he faced her more and watched as she took a deep breath.
“I got into an argument with Three, and it got super heated super fast. Like I said, I just wanted to know how much you said about octarians was true, but then she got super snappy and I just couldn’t stop myself. I kept pushing, trying to get something out of her, but all I did was get us into a yelling match and… xe said that octarians are all the same, that we’ll listen to any of the lies that we’re told, that when you tell us things you warp the truth to promote hatred towards inklings, towards everyone on the surface.” Octavio visibly winced. Damn, that inkling knew how to hit where it hurts.
“Well, to be honest with you, I wasn’t telling you the truth,” Eight’s face fell and Octavio grimaced, “hang on a second, let me finish. I wasn’t telling you the whole truth is what I mean. Octarian life isn’t, well…” he looked over at Eight’s pained expression and sighed. “Octarian life is rough. Every day in the valley is a fight, a struggle that we never know the outcome of. We fight as a means to survive, not out of the intention to cause harm. I can’t say that I didn’t contribute to the poor perception of inklings, but uh,” he coughed and glanced to the side, “that’s a conversation for another day.” Eight’s head tilted curiously, but Octavio kept his word.
“Here’s a different thought, why do you care so much about how Three perceives you?” Eight’s eyes widened and it was her turn to turn away.
“I uh- well I mean she-” Eight stuttered, opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish for a moment before pressing her face into her hands, the tips of her ears becoming a light pink. Octavio chuckled, he could read her like an open book at this point.
“Is it perhaps because you want xem to like you?” he grinned smugly as Eight grew even pinker.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” her hands dropped from her face and she began fidgeting with them in her lap. Octavio laughed heartily and slapped his knee. Eight’s embarrassed expression grew frustrated. “Look I… I don’t expect her to like me back, it’s not exactly in xer nature to be so forgiving, and I know that she’s fought octolings for years so this can’t be an easy adjustment to have one so close to xem almost 24/7 now. I understand she probably wants nothing to do with me now and xe have every right to think like that.” Octavio sighed and grabbed Eight’s shoulders.
“Nope that’s not what we’re going to do, you are most definitely not giving up like that,” Eight turned her head so as to not meet Octavio’s gaze and he rolled his eyes, moving one hand from Eight’s shoulder to grab her chin and force her to look at him. “Look, I don’t want to do this anymore than you, but I am not letting you give up on this believing that you are the one at fault when you are very clearly not.” Eight’s gaze fell back to her hands in her lap and Octavio frowned. “Here, I’ve got a better idea,” Octavio moved his hands so that they sat in his own lap, “tell me about Three, anything you want, just go.” A quaint smile crossed Eight’s face. There we go.
“Well, I’m not sure where to begin if I’m being honest,” her expression turned sheepish and Octavio smiled softly. “She’s crazy but in the best ways possible. Xyr extremely devoted to those she cares for, even if xe never outwardly says it. The number of times she’s saved me from danger, even if I probably could have handled it on my own, is insane. And- and every single time I’ll make an attempt to thank xem in some way she will always refuse it, saying something as casual as ‘Oh you deserve it’ and I have absolutely no idea of how to properly process that-”
Eight kept rambling about Three for the better part of roughly 10 minutes, and it didn’t take long for Octavio to figure out how absolutely infatuated Eight was with Three, and by many of Eight’s descriptions of Three’s actions and mannerisms, it wouldn’t be farfetched to think that Three felt the same way about Eight.
Oddly enough, Eight reminded Octavio of himself when he was far, far younger.
Things were peaceful before the start of the Great Turf War, they never could have guessed the tragedy that lay ahead. He and Cuttlefish were close then, both coming from high-standing families on their respective sides. They were initially forced to be around each other for the sake of a positive public image, as even before the war started tensions between the two species remained high. However, it didn’t take long for the two to actually grow close. Their ideologies may have differed, but they grew together for the sake of their peoples, and maybe because of something more.
But that life was short-lived. The tides began rising at a faster rate than anyone could have ever foreseen, and tensions rose to an all-time high. He couldn’t remember who threw the first stone, who drew the first lines in the sand, but soon enough war overtook their world and they were forced to take their respective sides. Octavio and Cuttlefish did everything in their power to keep in touch despite the circumstances, but nothing lasts forever in war.
He was brought back to the present by Eight calling his name, “...tavio, Octavio? You alright?” Her face only vaguely looked like she had been recently crying now, which Octavio took as a win.
“Ah sorry, your rambling brought up some, er, memories of my own, that’s all.” Eight giggled at that.
“Oh? And what kind of memories did my hopeless rambling bring up?” she grinned cheekily at her elder, who in turn smirked and lightly cuffed the back of her head.
“Now, what part of ‘that’s a conversation for another day’ did you miss earlier?” Eight began laughing even harder at that, now wiping tears of joy from her eyes.
“I hope you know I’m going to hold you to that now, no backing out!” Octavio sighed dramatically, causing Eight to double over in laughter. Octavio smiled softly.
“Okay okay, that aside, I’ve got one last thing to say before I should probably get back into my snow globe so you don’t get any further in trouble than you possibly will.” Eight turned to look up at him, a smile still decorating her face. “Don’t let your differences tear the two of you apart, okay? You’re both so young and have so much room to grow. Three has some ideology to unlearn, that much is undeniable, but you shouldn’t give up on her when you clearly care so much for xem.” Octavio took a deep breath and looked down at where his hands sat clasped in his lap, “Love is a cause worth fighting for, and if you truly, truly love someone, then you should never let them go.”
Eight’s expression became one of both surprise and confusion, but the sound of someone coming through the vent to Octo Canyon startled both of them into silence.
“Eight! Eight, where are you?” Three’s frantic shouts echoed around the outpost, her back turned to them as xe frantically looked for xer lost companion. Her shouts stopped when xer eyes caught on Octavio’s broken snow globe. She immediately whipped around and came face to face with Eight and Octavio sitting side by side. Startled by Octavio’s octoling form, xe paused for a split second. Octavio used that moment to spring up, placing an arm protectively in front of Eight. However, he felt his age catch up to him, grunting at the dull pain the action caused him.
However, Three didn’t hesitate, raising her hero shot and taking aim at Octavio, carefully taking a few steps forward in the process. It was at that moment that Octavio realized the state that Three was in. Other than xer already panicked state, three had a vibrant green marking on the side of her face, nearly reaching the other half of it. It was splattered in shape, looking as if someone had thrown something at her in an attempt to burn her. The eye on that same side of xer face had also taken on a greenish hue. Strange.
“Get the hell away from her Octavio,” Three growled, taking another couple of steps closer. Octavio raised his hands in surrender and took a couple of steps to the side, never breaking eye contact with Three. Three’s gaze began frantically swapping from Octavio to Eight, before lowering her weapon and sprinting over to where Eight remained seated. Three dropped xer weapon and knelt in front of her, checking over Eight to see if she had been injured, “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did he do anything to you? Did he hurt you?” Her voice darkened at the last question as she glanced in Octavio’s direction. If he was wrong about these two he figured he’d just walk right off the ledge behind him.
“Three, Three! Calm down, I’m fine, okay? He never hurt me,” Eight clasped Three’s hands between them, attempting to calm xem down.
“How did he get out? I saw that the glass was broken, did… did you break him out?” Three’s eyes widened, and Octavio saw heartbreak on the horizon if he didn’t step in. So, he cleared his throat and spoke,
“To be fair, I did ask her, but no. I smashed through the glass on my own.” Three opened her mouth to speak, but Octavio held up a finger, “Nope, let me finish before you go off. Eight came in here, an absolute wreck, and I wanted to help her. I asked her to remove the tape from the glass so I could make my escape much cleaner, but I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear she refused to do so. I simply wanted to help her because it hurt to see her in so much pain, especially when I heard the source of said pain.” Octavio narrowed his eyes at Three near the end, and Three looked away in shame.
“Eight, I… I’m so sorry, I never should have yelled at you like that, I have no excuse for my actions.” Three refused to make eye contact with Eight and attempted to pull xer hands out of Eight’s grasp, but she clung on tight to them.
“Hey, Three, look at me,” Eight slipped one of her hands from Three’s own to cup xer cheek. Three looked up at Eight and turned a vibrant shade of orange at that simple gesture. “It’s okay, Three. You and I have a lot of learning to do, and you happen to have a lot of ideology that you’ll have to unlearn for the sake of us both,” Eight looked over at Octavio expectantly, and he nodded in approval at her quoting him. Her smile widened as she returned her gaze to Three, “But…we’re going to get through this, together, okay?” Three leaned into Eight’s hand and nodded gently. Eight leaned her head forward and Three followed suit, gently knocking their foreheads together, giggling once they realized how close together they were. Three seemed to glance around for a moment before staring at something off to the side of Eight.
“Hang on, I’ve got an idea,” she grinned mischievously and leaned to the side to grab something, muttering angrily as she evidently kept missing whatever it was. “Never thought I’d find any use out of this old thing,” Three said as xe revealed what they had been reaching for: a simple parasol. “Marie left this here a while ago, saying it was slightly damaged and she had a new one, so she would just leave this one at the cabin,” Eight was confused as Three opened up the parasol and spun it around over their heads. “Figured this would help with our current, ah, situation,” Three said, gesturing over to where Octavio stood. Eight looked confused for a moment as all of the gears slotted in place in her head, and Octavio saw her face go bright pink before Three dipped the parasol in front of them, blocking them from his view. He chuckled and shook his head. They’d been through enough, they deserve to be happy.
Octavio began walking back over to his snow globe, mentally trying to figure out a way to fix the thing, when he heard Three call out to him.
“Where do you think you’re off to?” Three questioned, still bright orange in the face. Octavio grinned and ducked his head towards his snow globe.
“Well, last time I checked I’m supposed to be trapped in that thing, so I figured I’d get a head start on trying to put it back together, y’know, so neither of you get in trouble for my actions,” he said, gesturing to himself. Three snorted and stood up, offering a hand to Eight as she did so,
“Why don’t we help with that?”
Octavio grinned.
If an inkling soldier and an ex-octarian combatant could find love in one another, maybe there was hope for this world after all.