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Dozens upon dozens of mem cakes surrounded Eight. All were crudely shaped as objects that seemed vaguely familiar to her, from weapons that looked like ones that she may have tinkered with before, to figures of people that she almost recognized.
She'd begun to develop a sorting system. Ones she thought could be put together to create anything vaguely coherent were separated in their own groups, and ones she was yet to make anything of were pushed off a pile on the side. That pile was much larger than anything else she had.
She grumbled. No matter how they were looked at or how they were arranged, Not a single thing about them made any sense. She tossed the one she was inspecting into the reject pile and picked another out.
This one reminds me of… a feeling. No, that wouldn't make sense. Was it a mission? What did I even do? What were my roles? My duties? Who else do I know? Or maybe I should say ‘should’.
Cake after cake, each was only giving her vague ideas with little connection to be made, if even that. But they meant something, right? They had to… right?
Completely focused on the mystery at hand, Eight hadn't noticed a certain someone approaching her from behind.
“Eight.” A familiar voice suddenly spoke.
The octoling was startled back into reality. She whipped her head around to see who was addressing her. “Oh. Captain.” She exhaled with a certain relief.
Three scrunched their nose. “I told you that you don't have to call me that.” Eight only responded with a brief chuckle, one that the inkling chose to ignore.
“Why are you looking through those again?” Three calmly asked, directing their gaze to the small shapes Eight held in her palm. “I’ve seen you doing it a lot lately, I don't think it's healthy for you to keep reminding yourself of that place.”
Eight cringed at the mention of the metro, even without a spoken name. She opened her mouth to stammer out some sort of justification, but she had nothing but a sigh to offer. “I know, I should let go.” she admitted. “I’m bothered , even after all this time.”
“What's on your mind?” Three asked with a steady hand placed on their girlfriend’s shoulder.
Eight smiled slightly at the touch before her expression dropped once more. “I guess that it's just been bothering me a lot that I had a life before all this. I sort of know what it was, but I barely know anything that really happened.” She felt gentle fingers running through her tentacles, silently prompting her to go on.
“It’s true that I don't like being reminded of that place. But these are all I have” Eight continued. “I know I can figure out some kind of answer, I just have to figure out how to look at these correctly. And I really feel like I’m close to… something. Or at least I want to be. I dunno.”
For a moment, Three didn't say anything at all, only continuing to comfort Eight as they listened.
“Sorry,” Eight sputtered out after a few more moments, leaning her head back to meet the inkling’s gaze. “I know that’s a lot. You don't have to say anything.”
A subtle wave of guilt flashed through Three’s good eye. “Don't apologize. I asked you.” They firmly responded.
“Okay.” Eight looked back down at her hands..
“Look, Eight.” Three took a deep breath. “You know I love you, and I really don't wanna have to confront you with this, but…”
“But?” Eight nervously prompted. Uncomfortable silence lingered in the air for what felt like an eternity. She chewed on her tongue.
“Have you ever thought that you could be leading yourself nowhere with those?” Three finally spat out, as gently as possible.
“...What?” Eight was taken aback. She directed her focus to the mem cakes, now looking at them strangely. “I… guess I haven't.”
“It's not very fair to spend all this time trying to make sense out of what could very well be nothing and then blame yourself for it.” Three’s voice was meek and low, almost as if their words hurt more for them to say than it hurt Eight to hear them.
Eight sighed. They were right, but… “What else do I have?”
She’d expected Three to respond with some kind comforting answer, maybe to hug and reassure her, but instead, they only uttered one word. “Nothing.”
Eight furrowed her brow. “Nothing?”
“Sometimes things are just things and don't mean anything other than the fact that they're there. That's all I can say.”
“I don't know where to go from here.” Eight whispered.
“I’d love to tell you.” “I’d love if there was a solution to all of this, something, anything to be able to put your mind at rest, but there isn't . It happened, and it sucks, and I’m sorry. No one deserves that.”
Eight knew they were right. There was nothing more to say. Wish and hope as she may, she was completely, truly lost. Her chest felt like it was sinking, her mind strangely quiet despite the words that had been spoken.
For a while, the pair lingered in the silence. Three ran their fingers through Eights hair and rubbed her shoulders in an act of comfort, but it didn’t phase her much. “Can we have dinner?” She asked in a half-mumble.
“Let's.” Three replied. A hand softly grasped Eight’s arm, and she was lifted out of her chair to trudge to the kitchen alongside her girlfriend.
“Let's see….” Three let go of Eight's arm as they moved forward to the fridge and pulled it open. Eight idly stood by as they scanned the contents in search of something to make.
“Can you cube these for me?” Three asked as they pulled out a handful of small potatoes.
“Of course.” Eight took them in her hands. A cutting board and a sharp knife were collected and laid down on the counter, then a
She lined them up perfectly straight and smoothly cut through the row. Maybe he best course of action to take would be to focus on what she did have now. A different solution would be a problem for the future, but she didn't need a lifetime's worth of memories to prepare dinner.
Three must’ve finished what they were doing, as Eight felt them approaching her from behind. “I’m gonna hug you, okay?”
Eight perked her ears up at the sudden voice, then nodded. The warning was nice. Three understood her hypervigilance, as annoying as it was.
It was annoying to not have a reason. Why she had to jump or shout each time she was even slightly startled, why she had to fearfully observe her surroundings at every small, sudden moment, or why she felt uneasy with other’s near her but out of her view, it was all beyond her. Her body seemed to remember what her brain refused to, and it was annoying .
She sighed as Three’s arms wrapped around her waist. “You okay?”
“I will be.” She replied, unsure of if she truly believed it.
Three broke away from the hug and gently tapped Eight's shoulder, signaling her to turn around. “I wish I could do more for you Eight, I really do. It breaks my hearts.” Dread oozed out of their voice.
“Haven't you done enough?” Eight incredulously responded. “You saved my life, don't you remember?” She carefully asked. It was as far back as she could remember, at the very least.
“You saved me, too.”
“I fought you.”
Three pointed to their injured eye with a slight smirk. “You knocked some sense into my head.”
For the first time that evening, Eight truly smiled back. “Cod knows you need it.”
“And what's that supposed to mean?” Three asked in equal humor.
Eight didn't respond, only offering a teasing look that said everything she needed to. Three rolled their eyes and chuckled.
Eight giggled as well, though she caught a glimpse of something right behind them. Her expression slightly dropped. “Your water is boiling over.”
“Crap!!” Three rushed over to the stove before anything could spill. The lid was immediately lifted off followed by a relieved exhale.
Eight shifted into full-on laughter. “Three!”
“It's good! It's all good.”
Eight turned back to the cutting board in front of her, her mind feeling much lighter. Though the future might have seemed a bit bleak, tonight was alright. Eight knew that the next day would be alright as well, along with the day after that. She had Three by her side, and that fact would always make things at least a little bit more alright.
And besides, how could she be positive that hope was completely lost?