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It was silent.
Typically, the silence was something Four would appreciate in Octo Valley. No cousins arguing over pizza toppings, no boisterous rapping of tentacles against a glass globe, no raspy, high voice prattling on about what used to be or could’ve been. Nothing, save for the sound of the leaves rustling in the breeze and the occasional whistle of a far-off kettle.
Four looked down at their feet, tapping the heels of their heavy boots together to listen to the soft ’clunk’. They sat on the bench outside of Cuttlefish Cabin, listening to the rickety wood creak when the wind picked up, and settle with a miserable groan when it subsided. They inhaled, long and heavy, and collapsed back against the rough wood-slab wall with a deep sigh.
It had been nearly two months since the others had left (56 days, 13 hours, and 6 minutes, actually, but it’s not like they were counting. Definitely not). They still hadn’t received any word from the new captain, former captain, or either of the Squid Sisters. They weren’t sure whether to be relieved or worried – the mission could be going so fabulously well that there was no need for help, or they could be in such grave danger that they were literally in their graves. That would certainly explain the lack of communication, at least.
They whispered their woes into their palms to warm their ice-cold hands, eyes screwed shut and breath becoming shaky. Cod, they hoped that it was the former rather than the latter.
Four wishes they weren’t so alone right now, sitting on an island in the sky, chilled to the bone and with nobody to lean on. They yearned for Callie’s over-enthusiastic hugs, Cuttlefish’s affirmative pats on the head, and Captain Three’s subtle encouragement – but above all else, the lack of a certain someone left the hole in their heart gaping.
Marie had always known what to do and what to say. If she had been here to see Four in this state, she’d wrap her arms around them and press kisses to their forehead like she always did (Cod, her lips were so soft), the sleeves of her kimono enveloping them in her soothing scent of Madagascan vanilla and flowery shampoo.
She’d whisper to them so sweetly, voice thick like honey yet light as a feather. She’d run her nimble fingers through their tentacles, applying pressure to the muscles in their neck as she massaged them gently, holding their quivering body closer and so tenderly that it was as if Marie thought they would shatter and break apart in her hands.
Four snapped out of their daydream at the sharp trill of a skylark overhead. They closed their eyes and wrapped their arms around themselves tightly, desperately trying to chase the warmth they had just felt so vividly. It felt as if Marie had been there beside them, and for the first time since the others had left, the agent felt their façade slip. They curled in on themselves, pulling their knees to their chest, swallowing thickly.
They hadn’t expected the rest of the New Squidbeak Splatoon to be gone this long, and certainly hadn’t expected the emotional turmoil they now felt. They’d been denying it because they were Agent Four, the squid who rescued Callie countless times from DJ Octavio every time she put on those damn hypnoshades. They were the one who tore down the walls of the most shut-off woman they’d ever met and let themselves into her heart. They weren’t clingy. They weren’t so childish as to get upset simply over feeling left out. They were Agent Four, and they’d never do that.
... Until they did.
Four felt themselves crack as they hung their head, eyes glassy and unfocused as they willed their tears away. Their hands found purchase on their hero jacket, clenching their fists so tightly their knuckles paled. They sniffed once, hiccupped, and the dam finally broke.
Thick tears rolled down their cheeks as they sobbed into their knees, hands combing through and tugging on their tentacles wildly in an attempt to self-soothe. Their body was racked with another wave of sobs, shoulders quaking, and their nose running as they choked back a whimper.
They felt nauseous. They felt lonely. They felt unwanted, forgotten, and abandoned. They were on their own again, and they couldn’t handle it, not emotionally or physically.
Standing to their feet with a sniffle and a choked cough, they wiped their tears on their sleeve and stumbled inside the cabin to shield themselves from the worsening weather. The trees swung to and fro as their trunks moaned in an effort to stay put, and the paper lanterns Four had made with their friends what felt like ages ago rapped against the cabin’s door.
The old gramophone atop the cabin’s roof rattled at the whipping wind. The tapestry guarding the entryway fluttered and billowed. The light inside of the cabin flickered out for the night.