Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I, a lone sea anemone, find myself trudging through a damp, dark cavern miles beneath the surface, clutching an intricately carved staff in my hands which holds a glimmering light that cuts through the otherwise pitch black caves. My name is Melody Cylista… although if one were to ask for an introduction, I would merely scoff - and not without reason. After all, not only am I a witch with powers far beyond the limits of any other meager spellcaster, but I’ve also had a hand in quelling the invasions of not one, but two demon lords in the past year. To have not heard of me is simply ridiculous!

And if one were to insist upon me that they’ve never heard of me or my achievements (or worse, insist that they did all of that themselves, actually), I would simply laugh. I can’t blame them after all, as the scribes of tomorrow are the ones writing my deeds of today - for there is simply not enough parchment for it all as of now. But here in these subterranean halls, there is nary a soul for me to flaunt my exploits to… for I am on the verge of an incredible discovery.

An ancient city, once inhabited by the now extinct Nar’Whaal people, is said to lie at the end of these treacherous hollows - a city of fabulous wealth left in a state of immaculate preservation due to the efforts of the soulless automatons left behind by their former marine-mammal masters. Such stories attract all sorts of adventurers vying to make their mark on history, but few are able to brave the descent… and none have returned. But I, Melody Cylista, Witch of the Black Sands, am undaunted; if anyone can find Monoreach, it’s me.

As expected, after what felt like an eternity of sinking further and further into the maws of the hungry earth, I step out onto a cliff overlooking a fathomless chamber lit by the ambient azure glow of oversized bioluminescent fungi and the distant orange of an artificial sun suspended above what remains of the once-hidden metropolis. The sight is utterly breathtaking to behold, but the wonder of the moment is swiftly taken from me as I hear the sound of something - or rather, someone - approaching from whence I came.

I turn swiftly, casting an arcing bolt of electricity from my staff which only singes the cave wall behind me… merely a warning shot, of course. Unfortunately, the interloper is undeterred, and soon enough I recognize him - an old sea slug with a penchant for dark magicks.

“Hmph. You must have a death wish, Claudio.” I spit, ire on my voice.

Claudio Branchia, Necrofisher of the Whaling Tongues and my arch-rival, chuckles as he strokes the snow white tendrils that make his lengthy beard, his eyes hidden beneath his thick brows. “You could say that, since most things are more useful to me when they’re dead. You are no exception, miss Cylista.”

I grit my teeth, ready for the worst. This one has been a thorn in my side for far too long, and I know he’s up to something. “No riddles, please. Just what are you doing here?”

“Well, first of all, I must thank you for leading me straight to Monoreach. Truly, what a stellar guide you are.” The wizard goads as he casually adjusts his ragged, ink-stained robes, evidently impartial to my seething. “I’m certain this place is a veritable goldmine of old Nar’Whaal bones for me to command. Wouldn’t you agree?”

I scoff. “Haven’t you ever considered summoning for a change? It’s far easier than grave robbing, I assure you.”

“Summoners are cowards who hide behind their pets. I, on the other hand, strive to be a leader - the commander of a legion of bones.” Claudio says with a fervorous, maddened passion in his tone.

“Ugh, it’s always bones with you…” I sigh before conjuring a mass of jagged crystals in my offhand, ready to finally put this old feud to rest. “Enough of this, Claudio. Turn back, or I will rend you from this existence once and for all!”

“Heheh… you know I can’t do that, miss Cylista.” A ghostly scythe manifests in the hands of the sea slug as he takes up a fighting stance. “Don’t fret. When you fall, your corpse will be my second-in-command.”

“We’ll see about that!” I cry as I dash forward in time with Claudio, the both of us about to unleash the most brutal of arcane strengths, when-

BRRRRRTTTTTT!

The sound of a phone vibrating loudly against my computer desk yanks me out of the scene like a fish on a hook, practically paralyzing me from the sudden whiplash. It’s super late - late enough for the sun to have set a while ago, leaving me in a pitch black room save for the glowing of my monitor, and obviously now my phone. Again it buzzes, flashing my boss’s number.

“What the heck does he want at a time like this…?” I mumble aloud before typing a quick message into the chat.

[Melody Cylista] says: “Ugh, it’s always bones with you…”

[Melody Cylista] readies a spell

[Melody Cylista] says: “Enough of this, Claudio. Turn back, or I will rend you from this existence once and for all!”

[Claudio Branchia] chuckles

[Claudio Branchia] says: “you know i can’t do that, miss cylista.”

[Claudio Branchia] summons his reaper scythe

[Claudio Branchia] says: “don’t fret. when you fall, your corpse will be my 2nd-in command”

[Melody Cylista] says: “We’ll see about that!”

[Claudio Branchia ] has sent you a duel request! [F1] to Accept / [F2] to Refuse

You have refused the duel request from [ Claudio Branchia ] .

[Melody Cylista] (Party): sorry brb for a sec

[Melody Cylista] (Party): work is calling

[Claudio Branchia] (Party): LOL the timing XD

[Claudio Branchia] (Party): all good tho! Gotta pee anyways

Letting out a deep breath, I finally pick up my phone, fearing the worst. “Uh, hello?”

“Harmony!” The voice on the other line is way too energetic, as always. “Whatcha up to?! You’re not busy, right?”

“Uh… hi, Barry. I’m…” I glance at the computer screen in quiet embarrassment. I think I’d rather die than admit to my boss that he’s interrupting my Tenta Scrolls Online roleplay… “N-No, not really…?”

“Well, yeah, you’re never busy. Sorry. Stupid question!” The chatterbox laughs for a moment, unaware of how much that quip stung to hear. Mostly because of how brutally true it is… “I was just calling to let you know that tomorrow is our super, super, SUPER loyalty sale day! And, uh, since I’m still out of town, you’ll have to be ready for that!”

I blink a few times. “Um… super, super, super loyalty sale?”

“Super super SUPER! You got it! Which means any members who’ve been shopping with Hotlantis for a year or longer get ten percent off on everything!”

“That’s…” I purse my lips. “Hang on. This didn’t happen when I was still a customer…”

“Oh, it’s a new thing I’m starting. People are gonna be stoked, I bet!”

“O…kay.” I pause, furrowing my brow. “Hey, uh, Barry? Can I ask you something…?”

“Oh, sure, sure!”

“So…” I hesitate. There’s been a burning question on my mind for some time now, but every opportunity I’ve had to ask, I’ve held my tongue. It’s not even a particularly bad question, so I don’t know where the anxiety is coming from… maybe just… a fear that I’m about to open some kinda can of worms? But for better or worse, I think channeling Melody's character for the past few hours has me feeling a lot more forward tonight, so I close my eyes and just let it out. “How much longer am I gonna have to do this?”

A nervous chuckle comes from the other line. “What, uh… what do you mean?”

I swallow, a sinking feeling striking me in my chest. Yeah, okay, I definitely shouldn’t have opened my mouth, but it’s out of the bag now. “Working- …no, running Hotlantis. I’m still not technically an employee, y’know.”

There’s a brief pause before Barry responds. “Is there, uh… something… wrong? Do you not like the job?” His voice is reasonably concerned, but I honestly don’t know if it’s because he’s more worried about me or the store.

“Just…” With a sigh, I glance back at my computer. My guildmate Claudio, evidently back from his bathroom break, is jumping and emoting in front of my idling avatar to pass the time. For the past year, this MMO has more or less been my entire life outside of Hotlantis, and the fatigue has been setting in. I know better than anyone that I’m not really the most sociable person on the planet, but even the likes of me understands that something like this is just blatantly unhealthy.

But even if I were to just drop the game, that wouldn’t really get to the root of the problem. Running the store leaves me so drained that I hardly have any energy to do much of anything else. Not only that, but waking up and working for several hours, only to come home knowing that there will always be more unfulfilling work to do the next day… it’s honestly a wonder I’m able to get myself out of bed at all.

“Just what, Harmony?” Barry breaks the silence left in the wake of my brief introspection.

I swallow again. There’s an urge to just hang up the phone and get back to roleplaying as my idealized spellcasting self, but I’ve come this far - might as well rip the band-aid off. “Things are getting a little… repetitive for me.” I feel my heart racing even more, like saying something as simple as that is basically confessing to a murder. It’s not as though Barry is a domineering boss or anything, but even so, admitting something like this is far more daunting to me than it really should be. “L-Like, I’m starting to lose track of time. It feels like I blink, and then… it's been a week.”

“So… you need a break. Is that what you’re saying?”

I wince, sucking in air through my teeth. I’m already taking a break, and it’s been going for a little under five years at this point. Would a vacation even change anything? Heck, is this weird feeling of nothingness I’ve been feeling even caused by my job? Or am I just blaming that because I don’t know any better…? “I, uh… I’m not sure.”

I know he’s only taking a moment to think, but each second of quiet from Barry just amps up the tension more and more - even if the tension really only exists in my head. “…I’ll keep it real with you, Harmony. I don’t know when I’m gonna be able to come back. It’s, uh, private matters, but you’re the only person I trust to run the store while I’m gone. Heck, you do it better than I do! If it makes you feel better, I can bump your pay up and-”

“I don’t need a raise, Barry.” No, it’s not about money. It was never about money. I do what I do because I enjoy it… at least, that’s how it always starts. It was like that with Chirpy Chips, and it was the same when this arrangement of working at my favorite store came about.

But there is no enjoyment anymore. Not with my old band, not with Hotlantis. What starts as good fun slowly twists into a chore, as the constant repetition just whittles the passion for what I do into nothing but dust. Is… is it my fault? Is it because I can’t stay motivated like everybody else can? Is it because I can hardly remember what it’s like to find meaning in anything?

“I just… I wanna start feeling like I exist again. Because, like, right now? I don’t feel like I do.”

The words left my mouth before I even knew I was saying them. Even weirder is the fact that I didn’t even notice I was crying until after I said that. Barry is dead silent, and the only thing I can hear is the pounding of my chest and my own shaky breathing.

“I… uh… you know what? Don’t worry about opening tomorrow, Harmony.” He replies quietly. “In fact, just keep the store closed for the time being. You’ve clearly got a lot on your mind, and I don’t want you to work yourself to death for the likes of me. I… hope you can deal with this thing that you’re wrestling with.”

I try pulling myself together, trying to ignore what just happened as best I can. “I… ahem… y-yeah. Uh. Thanks, Barry. I’ll let you know if I, uh… start feeling better.”

“Mhm. Have a good night, Harmony.”

“Night.” I flip my phone shut before taking in a deep breath to ease the tension in my body. “I just wanna feel like I exist,” I quietly repeat. The thought never even occurred to me until it just sprang out of nowhere like that, but… that’s it. That’s exactly it.

I want to feel like I exist. I want to feel like I matter. To anyone, really, but especially myself.

…Oh, crap. Claudio is still waiting on me. Quickly, I grab my keyboard and start typing away.

[Melody Cylista] (Party): ok im bac

[Melody Cylista] (Party): back*

[Melody Cylista] (Party): my boss talks a lot

[Melody Cylista] (Party): you still there?

[Claudio Branchia] (Party): wb!

[Claudio Branchia] (Party): Though I actually gotta go now

[Claudio Branchia] (Party): it’s getting late where i’m at

[Melody Cylista] (Party): oh

[Melody Cylista] (Party): thats fine actually

[Melody Cylista] (Party): kinda not in the mood to keep going tbh

[Claudio Branchia] (Party): everything okay?

[Melody Cylista] (Party): just work stuff

[Melody Cylista] (Party): no big deal

[Claudio Branchia] (Party): ah, ok

[Claudio Branchia] (Party): btw tomorrow yarwhal & i are gonna try doing a veteran run of the new dungeon if you wanna join

[Melody Cylista] (Party): eeehhhhh

[Melody Cylista] (Party): i uh

[Melody Cylista] (Party): am actually thinking about taking a bit of a break from TSO

[Melody Cylista] (Party): like, a few days at leats

[Melody Cylista] (Party): least*

[Claudio Branchia] (Party): oh, np! I get it haha

[Pelagia Nox] (Zone): Looking for a fun guild to goof off in and have a good time? Consider [The Pantless Platoon]! We do dungeons, trials, community events, RP, PVP and more! The only requirement is that you don’t wear pants!

[Claudio Branchia] (Party): sometimes i get burnt out too

[Claudio Branchia] (Party): what the fuck?? Recruiting in this zone of all places???

[Claudio Branchia] (Zone): @[Pelagia Nox] my brother in madai, you are in Monoreach, there is nobody here

[Claudio Branchia] (Zone): and anyone who is probably already has a guild

[Claudio Branchia] (Zone): please go to Crablorn or smth

[Pelagia Nox] (Zone): @[Claudio Branchia] Bro I’ve tried, but too many guilds advert there and clog up the chat. Like trynna set fire to the sun fr

[Pennis the Menace] (Zone): I am here and I’m not in a guild. Just doing quests though so…

[Claudio Branchia] (Zone): omg @[Pennis the Menace] i misread ur name for a sec and i thought it said smth a LOT different lmfaooo

[Pennis the Menace] (Zone): That’s the intention. ##### wouldn’t get past the filter.

[Melody Cylista] (Party): okay well im logging off now bye

I don’t even wait for a response before quickly shutting the game down. It takes a bit to fully sink in that Barry has basically just given me indefinite time off, and while I’m… grateful I guess, I also can’t help but feel like I’m letting my own problems bog others down. I don’t get very far along that line of thinking though, since I feel a light nudging against the side of my head getting my attention.

“Hm? Oh. Hey, Jerry.” Of course, it’s only my eternal plus-one. “Sorry if the, uh, phone call woke you up from your nap.”

Jerry says nothing. In fact, he never says anything. Yet despite this, through years of the little guy sticking with me, I’ve reached a point where I can sort of translate his subtle sways and wiggles into a kind of understandable language. And as of this moment… he’s hungry.

“Oh, right. I haven’t eaten dinner yet. I’m kinda thinking… pizza. What do you think?”

Slowly, the fish floats away from me and flutters over to the bedroom’s lightswitch, flicking it on with a bump of his body, the sudden brightness briefly blinding me. Jerry then hovers over to the small tower of empty pizza boxes on top of a minifridge within arm’s reach of my desk.

“Yeah… good point.” I sigh. Then, a sudden rumbling comes from outside… like thunder, or something. Sure enough, when I glance out the window, I realize that a storm has rolled into Splatsville - a bit of a rarity way out here, as you’d expect. The streets are so quiet now, it’s almost ghostly… the city rarely sleeps, but it more or less has to when the odd rain comes through with a population of roughly 65% inkfish.

Even though a hard rain is a death sentence for so many, I can’t help but like the rain - the sound of the droplets hitting the pavement makes me feel pretty nostalgic. Back when I was still an up and coming artist in Inkopolis alongside Clash, Sid, and Orion, holed up in our apartment during the rainy season. But… I can’t even think about that time without feeling guilty for how I just threw all that out.

I just needed a break, I said. Just a week or two. Or three. Then a month. Two months. A year. And so on.

…I’m not feeling hungry anymore.

But Jerry won’t let me go to bed without eating something, so I have a bowl of cereal as my dinner - making sure to serve the little guy a tiny cup of his own. Not too long after that is when I crawl into bed and stare at the ceiling until I can trick my brain to stop thinking long enough to fall asleep. Yet the rain outside shows no signs of stopping anytime soon, which unfortunately leaves me alone with my thoughts accompanied by the rare orchestra of the downpour outside hissing as it falls.

I just want to feel like I exist.

I just want to feel like I matter.

How in the world do you deal with a feeling like that…?

Chapter Text

I don’t tend to get angry very often. In fact, those who don’t really know me very well might think I don’t tend to have any emotions at all (or thoughts, for that matter). That couldn’t be any further from the truth - if anything, I think too much , since admittedly I’m often in my own little world when what’s happening around me isn’t really keeping me engaged. Similarly, I just express myself differently than most… which is to say, I kinda struggle expressing anything at all. However, upon waking up at the ripe hour of six in the morning, the sun yet to show its face but casting a glow over the horizon nonetheless, only to find out that in the wee hours of the night my favorite little symbiote somehow uninstalled TSO from my computer…

Oh, I’m angry, alright.

“Jerry.” I have the clownfish in a death grip, looking into the tiny, white dots that are his eyes. “What. Did. You. Do?”

He squirms, which I understand as an explanation coupled with a cry for mercy.

“I know I said I was gonna take a break, but like-!” I grit my teeth, letting out a frustrated grunt. “Don’t you know how long that game takes to install?!”

Jerry’s expression is more blank than usual - a clear sign of ignorance.

“At least eight hours, Jerry. So either I do it overnight, or I sit here with crappy internet for most of the day.”

The fish wiggles out an apology, but also starts telling me that he really only wants what’s best for me, especially after what he overheard from the phone call with Barry. After understanding that, I… can’t help but loosen my grip on him. 

“I… well… yeah, I… I do, too. Just… talk to me about these things, okay? It doesn’t feel good for you to just… do that.”

Jerry slips from my grasp and rubs himself against my tentacles, which makes the last of my frustration vanish as I gently return the favor by tracing a finger across the little clown’s back.

“Ugh… I sound like an addict or something…” I mumble aloud. “I… I could use a bath. Come on, Jerry.”

As often as I’m off in my own head, I’m rarely thinking about anything that matters - but if there’s any way I know to trick my brain into actually being productive, it comes from laying in a bath up to my neck in bubbles. No distractions. No glowing screens or anything like that. Just a zen-like focus.

And now that I’ve drawn the water, mixed in my favorite coconut-scented soap, and entered my effective meditation… yeah, it’s pretty clear to me that my three-thousand hour commitment to Tenta Scrolls Online probably isn’t helping my mental health. Maybe quitting cold turkey won’t actually be that bad of a start, but… now what? That helpless feeling in my chest isn’t gonna just up and vanish after a few days spent doing anything other than watching numbers go up or playing pretend with strangers.

My eyes half lid as I sink deeper into the water, submerging my mouth in the soapy bubbles. Maybe the reason why it’s so hard to think of something, anything to do about this feeling of just utter… worthlessness … is that I’ve spent so long living with it that I’m basically used to it. Up until yesterday, I had some sort of resigned, screwed up acceptance of the situation, yet now that I’ve actually said something about it… I feel like I’ve cornered myself.

…Or maybe it isn’t actually a bath I need to jog my mind, but rather breakfast. Dinner was pretty light, after all.

After a good long soak, I rinse the suds and drain the water before hopping into my day clothes and stepping into the kitchen, yanking open the fridge to stare blankly at its barren shelves.

Oh. Right. I haven’t gone to the store yet this week.

“Well. Guess we’re having cereal again, Jerry.” I say to the little guy as I grab our bowls from last night out of the sink to rinse, only to realize that something felt… off. “…Jerry?” I repeat his name, grasping at the air around my head, only to realize that he’s missing.

Uh oh.

Rushing back into the bathroom with a pit in my stomach, I spot a tiny black tailfin wriggling in the drain of the tub, attempting to free himself from the suction brought about from the soapy water slipping into the pipes below. I rapidly clamber into the tub once more and put my hand on what little of Jerry is still able to be grasped, pulling in an attempt to spare him from a cruel fate all while quietly lambasting myself under my breath.

I can’t do much of anything though, as he squirms and thrashes in pain any time I try to tug him out. “Can you hear me, Jerry? I’m, uh, gonna try calling maintenance, alright? Just… hang in-”

But before I can even finish, the suction finally pulls the fish past the threshold of the drain and into the wider pipes below with a quiet thunk, leaving me in a shocked silence. I’ve gotten separated from Jerry before - in the same way, even - but at a time like this, where my mental state is stretched thin enough as is…?

It hits me all at once. Like a swelling overture of complete frustration with myself, taking form through me bashing my fists against the bottom of the bathtub while a pent up fountain of angry tears fall. “F-For the love of…!” I curl up, hiding my head beneath my arms as dark, irrational thoughts worm their way into my head like a creeping poison. “…Can’t even take care of a SINGLE fish without screwing it up…!” I growl through my teeth before I’m suddenly and involuntarily slamming my own fist against my head repeatedly, as though I’m trying to literally beat some sense into myself.

I stop before I take it any further. I know I shouldn't have done it at all, but… but I did.

Slowly, I force myself to sit up and start hugging my legs, mumbling quiet, searing deprecations about myself for no one else to hear. My head is aching from the combination of stress, hunger, and my own stupid actions; between the pain and the oppressive thoughts slithering their way into my mind, it’s a wonder that I actually notice the sound of knocking on the front door to my apartment.

Ugh. I’m not in a good state to be dealing with anyone right now, but if it’s who I think it is, then ignoring it would only make things worse. With a few deep breaths, I’m barely able to ease myself out of my frustrated state just enough to put on the usual face people know me for as I make my way to the entrance, cracking the door ever so slightly to gauge just who it is.

Sure enough, it’s my downstairs neighbor - and he’s probably not here to voice a complaint, knowing him. “Hey, Harmony!” The high pitched voice of Mr. Coco greets me like I’m not just peeking from behind the door. “I heard some loud thuds earlier! Is, uh, everything okay…?”

I swallow as I fully open the door, awkwardly grasping at my arm in an admittedly crap attempt to seem like I’m not a single inconvenience away from ripping the tentacles right out of my head. “I… um… y-yeah, I’m okay.” 

“Well, that’s good!” He replies, a twinkle in his eyes. “If you don’t mind me asking, what was that noise? Seemed kinda… violent.”

“Er…” My gaze darts from side to side. Mr. Coco isn’t someone I’d consider a friend so much as just somebody I feel chill around given how chill he is himself, but the thought of lying to him makes me feel a little gross. Still, I’m not exactly open to the idea of sharing what I was doing… so I’ll just leave that part out. “I was, uh, taking a bath… then after I was done, I got started on breakfast. But then I noticed Jerry was gone, and when I checked the bathroom, he… uh… he was stuck in the drain. I was trying to get him out. That was the banging noise.” I say quietly, almost like an ashamed little kid.

The sparkle in the coconut crab’s eyes goes from cheerful to tearful. “Oh no! Not Jerry! Is he okay?!”

“Well… he got sucked in. So now he’s in the sewer, I bet.”

“Oh dear!” He gasps. “Should we call someone? The fire department, maybe?!”

I wince. “N-No, it’s okay. I’ve, uh, done this once before on accident. I know where to find him.”

His shock quickly turns to skepticism at that, but he just shrugs it off. “Ah, well… if you’ve got a mission then, don’t let me stop you! Good luck, okay?”

I give him an exaggerated thumbs up. “Yeah. Thanks, I guess.”

The coconut crab begins to leave, but suddenly pauses. “Oh, right! One more thing!” He says before whipping his huge self back around, leaning in towards me. “Have you seen the news lately?”

“The news…?” Where’s he going with this? “I mean, yeah, but I don’t really care about what happens on the news.” 

Mr. Coco scoffs. “You say that, but this is probably kinda important? That story about the desert bandit loose in the city?”

I blink. I do actually remember hearing about that, but I didn’t really pay it that much attention. As chill as Mr. Coco is, he can’t help being a gossip sometimes. “Uh, yeah. That one. Sure.” I say halfheartedly in hopes to speed things along.

“Well, I actually met that bandit yesterday.” He places his claws on his hips as he starts his chatter, all while I’m only partially paying attention. I’m sure it’s important or something, but I’m really not in the mood - especially while knowing Jerry is getting flung through a maze of grimy, grody pipes right now on his way to the Spillway. “He must’ve been running for his life since he slammed right into me and made me drop an order of shoes I was carrying, but - get this - he stopped and helped me pick them all back up. While on the run! You know what that means?”

“I have no idea, Mr. Coco.” A very default response leaves me as I’m more focused on mentally mapping out my sewer trip.

“He’s as much of a sneakerhead as I am!” The glimmer returns to the crab’s cartoonish eyes for a brief moment before it quickly fades into a surprisingly dark look for the crustacean. “…and Deep Cut seems to have it out for him, since they’ve set up a hotline and everything to track this guy down. Which is just… sacrilege! Only pure souls can be sneakerheads, and they’re apparently out here tearing up marketplaces just to get this one ‘bandito’!”

“Uh-huh.”

“So basically, if you see this person - which I only bring up because it sounds like you’re going to the sewers and that’s probably the place you’re most likely to run into a fugitive - and he doesn’t try robbing you or anything, make sure you call Deep Cut and give them a piece of your mind. I already did, but you know how stubborn those three can be! Especially Shiver…”

“Right. I’ll, uh, do that.” I give a noncommittal nod. “I’ve really gotta get ready to find Jerry, so…”

“Oh, sure, sure. Sorry. Again, good luck! Stay safe!” The crustacean says before finally heading off.

Despite the unwanted visit, a part of me is thankful for it just for the fact that it snapped me out of my ‘moment’ long enough to actually get a grip on the situation. The first time this happened, I spent several hours obsessively looking over maps of Splatsville’s sewer infrastructure that I… definitely didn’t acquire legally… all while my sole nutritional intake was an unhealthy amount of energy drinks to keep me awake. Jerry has been the one constant in my life I can always rely on to at least be there with me, especially in times like this. I can worry about my problems later; I’m not gonna let my own stupidity take Jerry away.

Chapter Text

Armed with a bag full of crushed up potato chips to waft around as a lure, I slowly make my way through the tunnels and waterways beneath Splatsville after dropping into a manhole in the alley behind my apartment. The constant echoing sound of water trickling down the massive pipes gives the place a strangely mystical feeling, like the cave my TSO character bravely ventured through last night brought to life.

Except it’s a lot smellier. And manmade. And magic isn’t real.

Anyways, Jerry has probably been washed all the way to Undertow Spillway by now, since that’s the biggest converging point in the system before it all gets ran out of the city - and I know he’s smart enough to keep treading water there instead of letting himself get pulled all the way to the ocean. Once I pop open the chips, he’ll smell them, and since he loves potato chips, he’ll come my way. A foolproof plan. Nothing will go wrong.

“Nothing will go wrong,” I repeat aloud, trying to convince myself of it. For some reason, it’s not working.

Eventually, after enough trotting through dingy, wet tunnels, the concrete pipes open up into the massive and overgrown clearing that is the Spillway. Ordinarily, there’d be a handful of folks here since this place is kind of a hotspot for urbex enthusiasts - and also the fact that they set up a Turf War arena down here - but it’s weirdly empty today. I’m a bit confused at first, but then I realize the stage out in the center of the pit has been almost entirely submerged in water… probably because of how much it rained last night.

Sometimes I wonder how different Turf Wars would be if Inklings and Octolings could swim in deep water like non-inkfish can. Obviously, this place has literally just been left to dry as it is, but if they could dive into water, maybe they could make an event out of this. Like, a Turf War where they’ve only got a few little islands to fight over, so they have to swim around or something. Maybe I’d actually start watching matches if something like that could happen.

…I’m getting off track. Bag in hand, I sit down on the edge of the pit and sprinkle some chip crumbs into the water, watching intently as the surface of the runoff churns from the currents beneath. There’s a hint of coolness to the air in here coming from the massive pool of rainwater, which has me slowly turn my gaze up from the water and to the surrounding chamber. Maybe a trip to a place like this was actually something I needed - just a moment of quiet that isn’t spent in my apartment. Something… fresh.

Ugh. I hate using that term unironically. Makes me feel like a kid or something.

As I’m lost in my head though, I begin to hear some sort of weird metallic clattering noise… and when I turn my head to see what it is, I swear I spot something moving behind one of the many pillars in the huge room. I freeze in place, eyes wide. “U-Uh…” I swallow. I’m the first to admit that I have an overactive imagination, but I know that wasn’t just in my head. “H… Hello…?”

It’s silent for a moment.

…

…Then I hear it again, much more rapidly, like a spider crawling as fast as its unholy amount of legs can carry it. I don’t see what’s causing it, but the sound is enough to send a jolt of fear through my body that causes me to shift my posture just enough for me to slip right off the edge of the pit and fall right into the deep, murky water below. The sudden shock of the cold is paralyzing, which leaves me a thrashing, panicking mess.

Eventually, I pull myself up to the surface, hacking and coughing up the nasty runoff that’s overwhelming my senses. My eyes dart around, adrenaline in my veins, trying to spot whatever the heck it was that was making those noises, but… it’s gone, and now I’m drenched in dirty rainwater. It’s… it’s okay, though. Anemones like me have a lot of control underwater, so I can probably get enough height when I jump out if I push with all my tentacles all at once… probably.

I dip under the surface following a deep inhale before pushing as hard as I can with every limb on my body, breaching the surface and thrashing my hands up toward the ledge… only to fall short. I try again, and again, and again… with no luck at all.

Great work, Harmony. Fantastic. Now you’re stuck in the sewers, too. What a wonderful rescue this has been. There probably wasn’t even anything there - just some industrial noises or some crap like that spooking you like some kind of idiot. And now, you’re soaking in oily, dirty, grody freaking rain water.

You really are pathetic.

…

…I really am pathetic.

I slink beneath the surface of the water, letting the currents beneath slowly push me around. I can hold my breath for a long time, but it’s not like I’m immune to drowning. Sure, I can climb up onto the half-flooded stage and use that as an island, but… who the heck is gonna come down here to get me? They know it’s gonna take at least a day or two for all this water to drain out, so right now there’s no reason for anyone to be down here.

Maybe I should just start living in the sewers. Become a sewer lady, or something. It’s not like anyone would notice I’m gone…

…

Wait a second.

My eyes flutter as I’m lurking beneath the waters, staring up at the ever so distant edge of the basin… only to spot a figure peeking down at me from that very edge. Through the murky water, I can’t make out much detail of who they are, but…

…Something seems off about them.

They definitely see me too, since it looks like they jump back in a panic - only for them to peer down once again, this time with something hiding their face. I blink a couple times, just to make sure that I’m not already going crazy, before I pull myself to the surface to get a look at the stranger. Whoever it is, it looks like they’re hiding their face with an old hood and a gas mask… kinda spooky, honestly. And given the creepy noises I heard earlier, I’m not exactly keen on asking somebody like that for help… but I actually sorta don’t want to drown.

“…Oh, hey.” I speak slowly. I don’t even know how to start with something like this, so uh… “I thought I was alone.”

A second figure peeks over the edge alongside the masked lurker, and it’s… someone I think I actually recognize - and she recognizes me, too. “HUH?! What’re YOU doing here?!” She says in a near shout, utterly baffled. She’s an Inkling girl, tan skin, yellow ink and eyes, a scar on her eyebrow, dressed in a crappy old shirt… yeah, I see her poke her head through Hotlantis all the time. She never actually buys anything though, so that’s kind of annoying. It’s surprising to see her of all people, but clearly it goes both ways.

“I, uh…” I tilt my head. I could ask her the same thing, but there’s a menacing aura coming from the guy next to her that convinces me to just tell the truth. “Lost Jerry. Fell in a drain.”

“Jerry? …Wait, your pet has a name?”

Hearing ‘pet’ makes me wince ever so slightly. I figured she of all Inklings would actually get the difference between a pet and a symbiote because of that Salmonid she takes care of, but… well, maybe it’s just a cultural thing. “Not really a pet… kinda like a roommate, I guess…?”

The other one finally speaks up - I can’t tell if it’s because of the mask or if he’s foreign, but his voice sounds… really weird. Like, smooth, yet dry, if that makes any sense? Plus an odd accent I can’t quite place. “Who are you?” 

I swallow, a little intimidated by the straight-to-the-point question - not that it really shows on my face, though. “Oh… I’m Harmony.” Now that I’m getting a better look at his ‘face’, though, something about him seems a bit familiar. “Have I seen you before?”

The two of them glance at each other before the Inkling girl answers. “I’m a regular at the store…?” 

Yeah, no kidding… “Not you. Mask guy.”

“You have not seen me before.” I get a stilted response from the stranger, like he’s trying to use some kind of mind trick on me.

I squint at him. I feel like it should be incredibly obvious, but so much has happened in the past ten minutes that I’m at a complete loss. “Hm… no, I think I have…”

He looks at the Inkling and mutters, “Lola, let’s go.” My continued suspicion seems to have put the guy on edge, since it looks like he’s turning to leave. You’d think he was a wanted man or someth-

…Ah. Right. “Oh, I remember now. You’re, like… a criminal or something, according to Deep Cut.” Expert observation right there, Harmony. It’s not like Mr. Coco literally talked to you about this guy not even two hours ago…

Regardless, I’ve definitely hit the nail on the head, considering the panic that Lola girl seems to be in right now. “No, no, that’s not it! He’s a, uh, pipe cleaner!” She explains with a nervous laugh.

“I mean, I’m pretty sure I saw him on the news…?”

Bandit man is getting even antsier, since he clears his throat to get his companion’s attention. “Lola…”

They both seem to think I’m gonna try something, so I quickly speak up. “Wait a second. I’m not, like, against you. Or about to tell on you.”

Mask guy looks like he’s having some kind of moment of deliberation with himself before he slowly turns back towards me. “…Why?”

That’s a fair question. Apparently, they haven’t gathered the fact that I’m not in the water on purpose yet, so it’d probably be a waste of breath to tell them that I literally can’t snitch on them right now. I don’t even know this guy’s name, or what they’re doing here, or why the girl who never buys anything is giving him a luxury tour of the Splatsville sewers… but what I do know is somebody else’s opinion. “Well… Mr. Coco said you were okay.”

I can’t see this person’s face, but with years of expertise reading Jerry’s body language under my belt, I can tell he’s confused. “Who?”

“Oh. He also said you were in a hurry. So I guess you didn’t get his name. Big guy? Like, huge? Funny eyes? A crab?”

He nods subtly in understanding. “Oh. Yes, I was… running.”

“But… you helped him. Which kinda says to me you’re okay.” Plus, if there’s any way for me to get out of this watery ditch I’m in, it’s probably through them. “Can you help me out?” I ask, swimming up to the wall.

“Er… okay.” The stranger gives a simple response before laying down to reach his hand off the edge as far as he can. I was expecting there to be a bit more convincing involved, so the lack of hesitance to help actually catches me a little off guard. Maybe Mr. Coco is actually a better judge of character than I thought?

…That said, he’d trust a murderer if they had cool shoes, so this might be a false positive. Not that I have much choice other than to take his help, though…

I dip under the surface and, pushing with all my limbs one last time, spring out of the water just high enough to grab the masked man’s hand. Together with his Inkling sidekick, the two of them hoist me up over the ledge and back onto flat land, which I immediately collapse upon without any hesitation. I’ve hardly eaten anything, I’ve had two separate crises happen to me in the past couple days, I’ve learned that the sewers might be freaking haunted, and Jerry is still gone.

At least I’m not dead. Kinda feels like I am, though.

After a moment of just sitting on the concrete with my thoughts, I look up at the bandit. An awkward silence has set in since I was pulled up here, which I decide to try breaking to explain myself. “Uh… thanks, I guess. I, uh, didn’t mean to fall in.” The silence persists. Both of them are staring at me, and I definitely look insane. I quickly change the subject as I feel a pang of anxiety in my chest. “So… what’s your name? I know her, but…”

“Kaleb.” He replies with a grunt.

“Kaleb… you have a funny accent.” I repeat his name a moment before what I’m thinking slips out of my mouth, earning me an indifferent shrug from the guy. He’s pretty tall, and not an inch of skin is exposed under his dirt-stained getup. I mean, I did sorta get a glimpse at his face, but I couldn’t really make out anything clear from what I saw. I guess it makes sense that he’d wanna conceal himself though, since he’s on the run or something…

Kaleb looks down at the waters I was just in. “You seemed calm down there.”

“I mean… I kinda wasn’t…” I hug myself. Part of me wants to talk about the noises I heard, but I doubt they’d believe me. Instead, I just opt for the abridged version. “Like… I fell in, then I thought, ‘well this is my life now’, and just sorta… let the water do its thing.”

The Inkling girl speaks up. “Uhh… well, good thing we came along then, huh?”

“Yeah.” I give a quick reply, leading to another moment of silence. I can tell that both of them have no idea what to really say, and honestly, neither do I. My mind is still racing, thinking about those noises, thinking about how I was almost trapped down here, thinking about my fish… maybe they spotted something? “So, uh… did you guys see Jerry?”

Lola’s face changes to an ever so subtle look of complete confusion. “N…No?” She says with a shrug before looking at the tall mystery man. “We weren’t expecting to see anyone else down here. We’re trying to get him out of Splatsville.”

I blink slowly at that statement. “Huh? Why?”

She just facepalms. “…You just said yourself that he’s technically a criminal.”

It’s not like he can’t be a bandit and stay in town at the same time. “…And?”

“AND he’s being hunted down by Deep Cut! They’ve got a vendetta against him!”

I’m about to follow up by explaining what I’m thinking, but it sort of strikes me out of the blue… this is actually a very serious situation that I’ve just kinda landed in the middle of. Like, I don’t know Lola beyond seeing her come through Hotlantis with her friends every now and then, but I don’t think some teenage girl would get herself involved with an outlaw without a very, very good reason.

Plus, he seems like he’s definitely not a criminal. Without even mentioning what exactly Mr. Coco said beyond a vague ‘you’re okay’, he helped me out of that pool and didn’t even ask for anything in return… if he was actually some bandit or something, he probably would’ve tried robbing me by now. And then, like getting smacked in the face, I realize something: it’s not exactly a stretch to say that he’s probably been falsely accused. “Oh! Right. Okay. Sorry. I’m a little… out of it right now.”

‘A little out of it’. Yeah, no kidding. It’s only been one crisis after another since… not even this morning; since last night. This is starting to feel like the plot of a really, really stupid manga. From existential crisis to… sewer criminal pals. Ugh. At this rate, I just wanna go home and go back to bed.

Weirdly enough, it’s like the big guy can sense the fact that my mind is going a mile a minute right now, since he simply nods and utters, “You are okay, Harmony,” in an… oddly reassuring tone.

Well… maybe I’m okay, but my symbiote still needs help. With a sigh, I force myself back up onto my feet. “Well, good luck, I guess. I’ll be here, looking for Jerry.”

As I turn to find a new spot along the edge of the basin, I hear the sound of snickering coming from the Lola girl… and then a quiet chuckle from Kaleb, too, before he calls my name. “Ah… Harmony? In your, ah…”

I glance back, watching him gesture vaguely around his head. “Huh? My hat…?”

“No, your, uh…” He wafts his hands down his sides. I can tell he’s trying to tell me something - maybe he just doesn’t know the right word…? I mean, he’s definitely foreign, so…

I mimic his movements. “My shirt? Or… my skirt…?” A tinge of embarrassment hits me. Surely he’s not… trying to say something about me… right?

Evidently not, since me saying that causes him to grumble something in a language that I don’t think I’ve ever heard before in my life before he suddenly starts marching up towards me. Before I can process what he’s doing, he reaches his arm into the tangled mess that is my tendrils and yanks something right out in a single quick motion. “There.”

Except, it wasn’t a ‘something’. It was a someone. “Oh! Jerry!”

“Wh-” Judging by Kaleb’s reaction of quickly looking down at the clownfish in his hand, then back at me, he had no idea what I meant when I was talking about the little guy. “This is Jerry?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” I say as I tenderly lift the fella up and back into my hair - making sure he doesn’t get himself constricted. The silent communication that is his wiggles lets me know that he enjoyed the chip crumbs.

“He was already with you.”

“Oh.” I mean, it makes sense. I was probably too busy freaking out about being stuck in the storm drain that I didn’t even notice him slink into my hair. “Well… thanks, anyway. If you didn’t do that, I would have been here for a while when I didn’t need to.”

“Uh… right.” The masked one slowly backs away from me, almost as if he’s put off by what he’s seeing. I don’t think I blame him.

Meanwhile, the Inkling girl has spent this entire interaction laughing hysterically at the both of us struggling to communicate with each other. “Hahaha!! Ahh… that’s too good. Wow.” I, uh, really don’t think it was that funny, but whatever. It takes her a second to pull herself together. “So… you’re not gonna turn him in or anything?”

My answer is straight to the point. “No. Not now, especially. He helped me find Jerry.”

I hear the mask man breathe in to speak before pausing, looking at the ground, and wafting his hand through the air in what I can only assume is a rapid emotional journey. “It’s nothing,” he grunts.

My gaze bounces between the two of them. I… really don’t have any more reason to be here anymore. I kinda need to head home so I can get a new change of clothes, since there’s no way I’m heading to the store like this.

Yet when I open my mouth to say ‘bye’, it’s like the words that leave me are replaced in real time with stuff a quieter part of my brain is wanting to say instead. “Uh… by the way… which way were you going?” Both of them have their eyes on me, and I feel a sudden, cold stab of doubt strike from nowhere. What am I doing, trying to give them advice? I doubt they’d need my help… let alone want help from a crazy sewer lady. They probably only lent me a hand out of pity. Yet… “Because, like… if you’re trying to get out of Splatsville, the only tunnel that actually heads completely out of town that doesn’t get you stuck in the Crater or the ocean is caved in right now.”

The girl, who’s face still had a smile painted on it from her laughing fit, suddenly has her expression go blank. “Huh? You mean the one that heads out east?”

I’m something of an unintentional expert when it comes to hiding what I’m thinking or feeling from other people, so I’m certain that neither of them have a clue as to the utter tug-of-war I’m in with myself. I just wanna get this whole interaction over with and go home, yet here I am, still running my stupid freaking mouth. “Yeah. Like, last month or something. Dunno what happened. A tremor, or something? It was on the news.”

Lola squints at me. “Wait, why do you care about sewer infrastructure so much?”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve lost Jerry like this,” I reply, before immediately regretting saying that so matter-of-factly as the two runaways give each other knowing looks. 

Yet instead of just leaving the clearly bonkers sea anemone that I am alone, the Inkling then asks me a question. “Okay… well, uh… If that one’s out, then… where should we go?”

I start rubbing my chin, disguising the complete panic I’m feeling as a moment of deep thought. They’re… listening to me. Well, she is, at least. I mean, maybe she feels like she can trust me because I’ve tolerated her as much as anyone else who comes through Hotlantis, but this kind of situation isn’t something I was ever prepared to find myself in. The answer I’m about to give may or may not land one or both of these guys in freaking jail if they wind up caught, and that kind of pressure is NOT good for me right now. But I… I want to help them, too. It’s only fair, considering what they literally pulled me out of.

“Well…” Slowly, I give my response as I double, triple, quadruple check my mental map of this place. “I think the next closest one would put you right in the center of Beluga District.” Also known as Splatsville’s capital of smelly streets and dirty needles. I wish I was wrong…

Clearly, she’s well aware of it, too. “B-Beluga…?”

“Yep.” I give a swift nod. My eyes dart from Lola to Kaleb, Kaleb to Lola, Lola to Kaleb… before the constantly stressed part of my brain finally gets a hold of the controls once again. “Good luck with that,” is all I say before finally turning and heading away from the odd duo, my speed quickening as I get further away from the center of the Spillway.

I clamber up the hills of dirt that’ve built up along the edges of the facility before pulling myself into the tunnel I came out of, leaning back on its wall to finally have a moment to myself for catching my breath. The light from the main chamber doesn’t really reach that deep into the pipe, leaving me hidden in the dark while I’m still able to get a clear sight on Splatsville’s Most Wanted.

I’m way too far away to hear what they’re saying, but it’s clear they’re talking about something for a moment before they keep moving… in the direction that I gave them. They actually listened to me. I… don’t know why they would, but… it feels good knowing that, for some reason.

I just hope they’ll be okay.

Chapter Text

It really goes without saying, but it’s been a long day. By the time I make it back home, it’s already somewhat late into the day and I haven’t even had a proper meal yet. I’ve also completely forgotten that I STILL need to get groceries, but I’m admittedly exhausted after the mess I got myself into at Undertow Spillway, and I really, really don’t feel like going to MakoMart because of it. That, and shopping there requires signing a waiver so you can’t be mad if a stray Killer Wail beam slices your freaking cart in half.

The deals are usually worth it, though.

All of that said, I decide to just order food online as usual. Normally, Jerry gets grumpy with me when I do that, but he’s pretty tuckered out from what happened, too… probably even more so than I am, since the poor guy got bounced around a bunch of pipes. As I grab my phone to order though, my mind wanders back to what Mr. Coco had asked me earlier today. As preoccupied as I was at the moment, I was still listening. Kinda.

Deep Cut is taking any and all information on the whereabouts of Splatsville’s public enemy number one. Mr. Coco’s convinced that the guy isn’t really that bad, and after what I saw, I basically agree with him. I mean, he’s a bit weird, but… talk about the pot calling the kettle black, huh. Not to mention that Inkling girl that’s leading him around - seems like he’s just lost, and he’s got himself in a rough situation because of it. Just what the heck did he do to deserve a manhunt like this?

I start digging through recent news stories on my phone, seeing if I can’t piece together some kind of picture for what exactly is going on with this ‘Kaleb’ guy. The biggest thing that’s been on people’s minds so far has been a string of disappearances… and after rewatching yesterday’s high-noon Splatcast, it looks like Deep Cut is kind of implying he might be involved. Except they have literally no evidence for that. Like, they just showed him poking around some wreckage in the middle of nowhere. Scrappers aren’t exactly an uncommon sight either, so what is it that makes him a bandit? The mask? I mean, it gets pretty dusty out there, doesn’t it? I feel like a mask is pretty justified.

Reading about these people vanishing sends a chill up my back, though. There’s hardly anything to go on for any of them - like, they just up and disappear with no rhyme or reason. No clear pattern, no connecting threads between them… seems like it could happen to just about anybody.

Even me.

For a brief moment, the metallic skittering that startled me so much in the sewers echoes in my head. Maybe that’s…?

…

…No, Harmony. That’s ridiculous. Besides, you’re not a detective - you’re just some sad girl with an overactive imagination. Deep Cut probably just knows people are desperate for an answer, and they’re capitalizing on some poor guy who was in the wrong place at the right time for easy press. Like it’d ever be about anything other than that with those guys…

I sit there, staring at the phone number on the Anarchy Splatcast website. Maybe I should call them… those two seem to need all the help they can get right now, and I definitely owe them. But… would doing that even make that much of a difference? I mean, Deep Cut sicced the entire teenage population of Splatsville on them; as nice as they were to me, I’m not really optimistic about their chances.

…

They… listened to my advice, though. Maybe it’s selfish to think something like this, but… it feels good to know that. It feels like… like I’ve done something. If I don’t go that extra mile to try helping them, even if it probably won’t change anything, then… then I’d just be letting them down.

I think I’ve done that enough times in my life.

Tapping the number on the screen, I press my phone up against my ear and listen as it buzzes once before immediately blasting me with a bit-crushed version of their show’s usual jingle… followed by more buzzing as the call is redirected. A few more rings, and then…

“Hello, thank you for calling the Anarchy Splatcast Tip Hotline featuring Deep Cut!” The voice on the other line is… straight up just Shiver herself. I thought the tip hotline was, like, calling random production staff, not literally calling Deep Cut themselves…?! “Please make note that your phone number has been entered in our system and that your call is being recorded. This line is not for pranks, swears, or anything other than genuine information regarding Splatsville’s missing persons, the ongoing bandit search, or perhaps any other need-to-know situations happening in town. Basically, your number will be blocked if you misbehave. Understand?”

My voice is only slightly louder than a mumble as I give a blunt response. “Uh… that’s… kind of a rude way to open the conversation.”

I hear the Octoling on the other line give a tired laugh. “Trust me, it became necessary the moment people figured out I’m the one who answers the phone. That aside, how are you, Harmony?”

“I’m-” Wait, what? “…How’d you know it’s me?”

“Caller ID. And even without that, I’d recognize that voice anywhere. Not many folks speak as flatly as you. Er, no offense!”

Fuck you, Shiver. “None taken. None at all.”

“But yeah, I’m assuming you’ve got something for me?” She continues, blissfully unaware of the sarcasm that was just thrown at her. “You don’t seem like the type to make any prank calls.”

“Uh, right. I’m calling about the… ‘bandit’ you guys are so crazy about.”

“Oh?!” Shiver sounds… excited, almost.

There’s that usual panging in my chest. “Y-Yeah, I, er… ran into him.”

“Where? Where did he go? Was he alone, or was that brat-” The octopus stops briefly in her words before backpedaling with a quiet sigh. “…Did he have anyone with him?”

“I lost my fish.”

There’s a pause. “…What?”

“My clownfish. Jerry. I lost him, and the, uh, bandit guy helped me find him.” Saying it out loud makes it seem so stupid… ‘oh, yeah, this wanted criminal helped some random girl find her lost symbiote’. I knew this was a bad idea, I just knew it…

After a minor eternity, she gives a response. “Come again…?”

Once again, I repeat myself. “I lost my fish, and the bandit helped me find him.”

She sucks in air through her teeth. “O…kay. Congratulations. Glad you have your fish back, Harmony.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“And… there’s not anything else to this? Anything at all?”

I blink slowly, shaking my head despite knowing she can’t see me. “No, not really.”

Yet another long pause comes from the host as I hear an annoyed groan come from her. “Well… again, happy to hear you and Jerry are back together. Thanks for your input, Harmony. I’ll talk to you another time, alright?”

“Yeah, sure.” Hold on, what am I doing? I can’t just leave it like that! Dang it Harmony, wake up! “A-Actually, uh, wait a sec.” The words clumsily fall out of my mouth. “I… I want to ask you something, Shiver.”

The sudden change in my temperament doesn’t go unnoticed. “Oh…?”

I take a shaky breath. “What, uh… what exactly did this guy do to be called a ‘bandit’, anyway?”

“Well, isn’t it obvious?!”

I wait for a follow up that never comes. “…No. No, it isn’t.”

“Looting on Splatlandian turf, attacking me - ME - twice, possessing illegal weaponry…”

“Huh? Illegal weaponry?”

Shiver sighs. “Yes. Specifically, a slagshot pistol.”

“Slagshot?” I tilt my head. “Isn’t that, uh, something from a video game…?”

“N-No, Harmony. Slagshots are… well, they’re old. Super old. They’re what common ink weapons were originally based off of, to an extent - except instead of ink, they shot tiny pellets of metal that rip right through your body.” The Octoling on the other line sounds grim as she speaks. “They were what the ancient humans used to… well, to be blunt, kill each other. They’re super lethal to just about anyone that doesn’t have chitin, and even then it’d only take a few shots more. Outlawed from here all the way to Calamari County; not even used during the war.”

“Whoa… then, uh… how’d the bandit get one?”

“Either he found a human-made one and got it working again, or he got it from a bandit clan up north, deeper in the desert.”

I rub my chin. “And how do you know all this…?”

“To be fair, I didn’t. Surprisingly, it was Big Man who told me about all this. Apparently, his family has had to deal with such things before…” Shiver lets out an amused chuckle. “Regardless, the very fact that he has one - and the fact that he knows how to use it, too - is more than enough to convince me that he needs to be treated with some, ah… ‘Splatlandian hospitality’.”

“So… you’re convinced this guy is a crazed gunman or something? That’s kinda funny, actually.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

I close my eyes and let out a quiet breath. “Because he didn’t just help me find Jerry. He… found me. And probably saved you the trouble of putting my face on that list of missing people.”

The octopus woman on the other line sort of stutters at that. “O-Okay, er… What exactly do you mean by that?”

“My clownfish got washed down the drain by accident. It was my own fault. I knew I could find him in Undertow Spillway though, so I went on a trip. The place was pretty flooded because of the rain from last night, and I… slipped.” Once again, the metal crawling noises come to mind. Probably best to leave that part out. “I was stuck down there. Alone. And if your crazed gunman bandit dude didn’t come through when he did, I’d still be trapped right now.”

Shiver’s voice is… uncharacteristically quiet. “The bandit… saved you?”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

“But… that can’t be right… you’re sure it was the same individual we-”

“I literally rewatched yesterday’s noon Splatcast like ten minutes ago; I’m positive. Funny how that works, too. Because, like, I’m pretty sure I also saw some blurbs on other websites talking about how you wrecked up Hagglefish Market trying to get this guy, then some huge scene broke out.”

“I… I mean… He’s a dangerous individual, and out of context that might seem a bit-”

“Shiver.” I rarely get mad. I’ve said as much before. But this girl is really driving me up a freaking wall right now. “You ever think that, maybe, you’re actually the problem here?”

I hear her gasp. “Excuse me…?!”

“Look.” Now pacing around my room as I speak, I let out a long, tired sigh. “I’m kinda convinced that this whole thing is less about any actual crimes this guy has committed, and is more about you using your platform to put some kind of grudge to rest.”

“He FIRED his SLAGSHOT at me!”

“Well… either he sucks at aiming, or he didn’t actually want to hurt you.” I step over to Jerry’s tank, watching the little guy as he snoozes. “Don’t get me wrong, Shiver. He looks a little- no, really freaking intimidating, and it’s probably not good that he has something like that, but he’s kind of a gentle giant. All I had to do for him to help me out of the water was just ask. He didn’t hurt me, or try to rob me, or anything like that. And he did this knowing that people are looking for him, and probably also knowing that I could call you and snitch on him if I felt like it. I know you think I’m slow, and maybe that’s true sometimes, but even I can tell that’s not something an actual outlaw would do.”

Shiver scoffs. “…Let me guess. Mr. Coco put you up to this, didn’t he?”

“Only the call, but I’m gonna stand by what I’ve said.”

“I should’ve known. Thank you for wasting my time, Harm-”

My grip tightens on my phone as I raise my voice for the first time in a long, long while. “That stranger trusted me, Shiver! Why can’t you?!” I scream, heaving heavy, shaky breaths after the fact, leaving the one on the other line speechless. “…I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised, though… what kind of clout could you farm by admitting you were wrong? It’s not like you actually care about anything other than that.”

The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the quiet sound of unsteady breathing barely coming through my phone’s speakers. I stand, waiting for a response… only to eventually hear a quiet click, followed by a dial tone.

Shiver hung up.

I’ve done all I can do. Moving over to my couch, I throw myself on it and stare at the ceiling, hands clasped together. It’s kind of weird to think that the day immediately after one of my worst breakdowns, I get roped into what is probably gonna be the most interesting thing that’ll ever happen to me in my life. Like, it’s all downhill from here. I’m probably never even gonna see those two again.

I just hope Shiver takes a moment to sit on what I had to say. I get that acting all high and mighty is her whole thing, but letting your pride rule you like that isn’t a way to live. Not that I’m the perfect example of how to live life… but still.

…

Why did those two put their trust in me, anyways? I was just some floundering weirdo stuck in a storm drain to them. Was it pity? Or were they just desperate? Or… maybe they legitimately thought I was a sewer lady. Well, Kaleb, at least. Lola knows who I am. Kind of.

As I lay there, Jerry floats up from his tank and over to me, having been woken up by my yelling on the phone. “Oh… sorry, buddy.” I mumble to him as he parks himself on my chest for me to start rubbing him. “I got, uh… heated, I guess.”

He wiggles to me, communicating in his usual esoteric body language to tell me that he’s hungry.

I wince. “Oh, right. I said I was gonna order food. Again, sorry. Gotta stop getting sidetracked… crazy stuff is over. Back to… whatever it is I do.”

‘Whatever it is I do’, I say as though I don’t know what that is.

…

I’ve got to get out more.

Chapter Text

I’ve been taking a lot of walks recently. Often, I don’t really have a destination in mind; I just pick a direction and go. Honestly, wandering Splatsville has kinda had a weirdly therapeutic effect on me, since aimlessly trotting along this city’s roads and alleys tends to put me in a bit of a reflective, almost meditative state. It gets me thinking about where I’m at, where I’m going, where I want to be… in the, uh, philosophical sense. There’s the saying of ‘not all who wander are lost’, but I definitely have no idea where I’m going by any measure. I’ve sat down, hardly moving for years, having gotten so used to the hole I dug myself into that now that I’ve started trying to do something about it, this sort of ever-present, looming feeling of uncertainty just kinda weighs on me no matter what I do.

I pass by a lot of people when I’m on my walks, and most of the time, nobody seems to recognize me unless they’re under the age of sixteen and also an inkfish. Those kids usually just look at me all confused since they’ve never seen me outside of work, and sometimes they even approach me and ask why Hotlantis has been closed for so long… to which I just tell them, ‘my boss wants me to touch some grass’. Sometimes they laugh at that, but usually they just give me a weird look.

For today, my legs have decided to drag me to Tetra District; it's not too far from Splatsville Square, yet I’ve never actually bothered going. It was kind of a meh spot up until about a year back when Barnacle & Dime opened up, basically turning the place into Splatsville’s premier shopping district for single mothers, rich kids, and people who are reasonably afraid of the internet. I am none of these things, so I never felt the need nor desire to come out this way… but the place probably has air conditioning, and my AC unit started leaking the other day. Might as well check it out while I’m here so I can remember what it’s like to not feel like I’m wading through hot soup.

I don’t even make it through the parking lot without getting struck with the realization that this place is a heck of a lot more than just your average mall, though. It’s a massive, three story tall complex with several circular buildings clustered together, with the largest building smack in the center complete with a huge glass dome as a roof for sunlight to help light the place up. Stepping through the sliding glass doors into the cool, crisp air feels like I’m stepping into a pool of ice cold water, causing an unexpected shudder through my body that almost causes one of my tentacles to smack Jerry right across his face. He doesn’t notice, though - instead, the cold simply prompts him to retreat into the depths of my hair. He’s a lot more fond of the humidity than I am, that’s for sure.

Since it’s the weekend, this place is crazy busy. I take only a couple steps further in, and immediately I hear the chatter of hundreds of shoppers echoing through the pristine black and white path flanked by various storefronts. The entrance I’ve taken is placed just next to the mall’s food court, and conflicting scents of pastries, pizza, noodles, and even poultry assault my senses as I make my way further in. I hear a baby loudly crying, the occasional piercing squeak of somebody’s sneaker dragging on the tile, the faint buzzing of a store’s theft alarm, the chattering of a nearby jellyfish mall cop’s radio… all of it together casting an unexpected wave of nostalgia across me.

I used to go to a mall like this all the time in Inkopolis when I was real young. I mean, it wasn’t exactly my choice to go there at first, but my parents always promised to get me a game if I didn’t complain about how long they took to shop. And when I started getting older, I started frequenting the music store often enough to actually make friends with the other regulars. Eventually, I offhandedly mentioned that I’ve thought about making my own music to them, then… well… that’s how Chirpy Chips got started.

I wonder if this place has a music shop? I step up to one of the mall’s many map kiosks and search… and yup, looks like they do in the central section of the place. Not really surprising, to be honest. I mean, it’s the biggest mall in Splatsville; it’d kinda be a waste not to cater to just about everyone they could think of.

As I make my way through the crowd, I eventually reach the gigantic center building of the complex, only to discover that the reason it’s so big isn’t only because there’s some sort of super intricate network of stores in here (although there is definitely a lot of them), but also because the majority of the chamber is taken up by a huge indoor pool/fountain… thing, with - who could’ve seen this coming - a Turf War stage in the center. Do inkfish know just how much of a stranglehold they have on the sports scene?

With my luck, it looks like there’s an Anarchy match going down right now. Most shoppers seem to be ignoring it, but I’m spotting kids standing along the railings watching in complete awe. I’ve never actually bothered giving it a shot myself to see what the craze is about, but honestly it just looks like it’d get stale after a while. Besides, if I ever tried playing in the non-inkfish leagues, I’d probably run out of breath in thirty seconds or less, and that’d be really embarrassing… or at least it would if anyone actually watched the non-inkfish leagues.

“What’s their weapon lineup lookin’ like?” I hear an Octoling boy talking to his Inkling friends as they peer over the fence, one of them armed with a pair of binoculars while he takes notes.

“Um… I’m spotting… E-Liter… Splash…”

“Ugh, typical.”

“Wait, wait. That one has a Bloblobber. And… so does the other.”

“Two blobs? For real? Oh, I do NOT envy the other team.”

“Oh, come on. Bloblobbers aren’t that bad. Just don’t get hit!”

“Don’t get hit? With TWO of them on the field?! It’s like walking into a freakin’ blender, Molly! And while you’re tryna dodge the blobs, BAM! E-Liter to the face.”

“Dunno, kinda sounds like a skill issue to me.”

“Oh for- c’mon Lola, say something! Help me make her see reason!”

I wasn’t intending on eavesdropping as much as I did just then, but the name ‘Lola’ catches my attention. I swing my gaze from the distant stage towards the trio, and sure enough… there’s that very same Inkling girl I met at Undertow, apparently hanging out with her friends as if she wasn’t complicit in harboring a fugitive only a week ago. I never really followed up on all of that since I kinda assumed that I’d never deal with any of that again.

“Hugo, you know I can’t actually give an honest answer here. I’m the backliner. You deal with them a lot more than I do.” The yellow-inked girl gives a measured response.

The one who I can only assume is Molly lowers her binoculars and gives a smug look to the Octoling. “Which also means you can’t say I’m wrong~”

Hugo looks down. “Ugh… you guys are the worst, I swear.”

Okay, at this rate, I’m definitely just standing here eavesdropping. Or… actually, I guess it’s more like I’m waiting for them to notice me. That’s a lot easier than walking up and saying ‘hey sewer friend, how’s your criminal sidekick doing?’, since doing that makes me look like a nutjob. Plus, I dunno if her friends are in on the whole escape plan business she pulled, so if I brought it up in front of them, she might freak out and it’d be a whole thing. I should just move on… I doubt they’d wanna pull me back into whatever that situation was, anyways. Stepping away, I continue along the ring-like path around the giant fountain and find the music shop not too long after.

It’s a neat shop that goes by Guitarfish Depot. The entire back wall is lined with a spectrum of multi-colored guitars, with amps of varying sizes arranged alongside them. Islands formed of racks with smaller acoustics dot the shop, with keyboards, drum towers, record displays, and shelves full of miscellaneous items all scattered around the place to strategically steer customers around the sale floor. It’s pretty quiet, save for the shop’s radio playing some chill beats and a customer who seems to be struggling with the sea angel at the register.

“I’m sorry, but none of the players we have are compatible with these tapes. What you’ve got there is… more of a niche hobby?” The sea angel tilts his head with a shrug as he explains to the… the… oh. Oh, you’re kidding me.

The customer is the very same bandit guy calling himself Kaleb, still wearing his mask and everything. I bet he came here with that Inkling girl and now she and her friends are waiting on him while he shops around. But why the heck would he come to a music shop of all places? Why is he even still in this town to begin with?! “Niche…? I, er, don’t understand…”

“What you’ve got here look like they’re… well, to be blunt, legitimately ancient? Like, ‘belongs in a museum’ kind of ancient? I-I’m not an expert, I just work here, but these are probably from like… mammal times, or something. And that’s not hyperbole, either.”

“Ah… ok. So you do not have a… how do you say… device for these?” He says slowly as he looks down at a pile of what look like cassette tapes - although judging by the conversation, there’s a bit more to it than that. “I understand. I am sorry for the confusion. My speaking is… ah… I am not from here. Thank you.” Without really waiting on the receptionist to reply, he nods his head before slipping the tapes back into his coat and turning to leave…

…Only to stop on his way out as the black mask lens that are his eyes meet mine, despite me trying my hardest to not stare so obviously at him. I glance behind myself to make sure it is actually me he’s looking at, but unless there’s something particularly interesting about the drumset I’m next to… nope, it’s definitely me that he’s looking at. I mean, I know I vouched for him and all, but that doesn’t make him less scary to be around. Especially now that he’s starting to approach me.

“Uh…” I swallow, deciding to just meet him halfway. “Hey, dude. I kinda didn’t expect to run into you here. Or anywhere ever again.”

“That is not surprising.” He says with… a laugh? “I have been hoping to see you again, actually. Lola has told me about your store, but… you have been away for some time.”

An alarm bell rings in my head. “Wait… you… wanted to see me?” Oh no… he actually is a criminal…! I was his last witness, and he’s been hunting me down to finish me off or something! I should’ve seen something like this coming; why didn’t I move out of town while I still had the chance?! Change my name and face and live the rest of my days in hiding so he doesn’t-

“I wanted to thank you.”

I blink. “…Huh?”

Kaleb looks around, almost as if he’s checking to see if anyone’s listening in on us. “Ah… are you busy? I would like to speak to you. Alone, if that is okay.”

I blink again. Why does he want anything to do with me? Like… part of me did hope that those two would at least remember me, but this is sort of one of those things where now that it’s actually happening, I’d really rather just be looking at what this store has like I was planning on to begin with… ugh, why can’t I ever make up my freaking mind with this sort of thing? What is it that I even want anymore…? “Uh, yeah. That’s fine, I guess.”

He nods before stepping out of the store and leading me to a quieter connecting hall home to nothing other than a few benches, a bathroom, and a blank storefront that has yet to be rented out. The strange desert man takes a seat and looks at me expectantly, and it’s at this moment I’m overwhelmed with how much this scenario feels like it’ll end with me getting stabbed or something… but despite that, there’s something weirdly earnest about the way he carries himself. It was like that in the sewers, too. And besides, he… kinda saved my life. So, disregarding common sense, I slowly take a seat next to him.

He leans forward, lacing his gloved fingers together and turning his head slightly in my direction. “So… as you see, I am still here. In Splatsville, I mean.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

Nodding slowly, I hear him let out a quiet sigh. “I… should start from earlier. I am not from here. I come from, ah… far from here. Much of Splatsville is strange to me. I do not have much - few friends, no family. I… had nowhere to go, so I came here.”

I awkwardly tap the bench with my hands as Kaleb starts explaining himself. Part of me wants to tell him that I didn’t ask, but I realize that would probably be taken as pretty rude, so I keep quiet.

“On my way, I angered Deep Cut. My understanding was… poor. It still is, but I am trying. They wanted me gone for this. I did not mind. I made a mistake, so I must go. That is that. But… I did not want to leave Lola.”

“Uh… why’s that?”

“She is like me. Few friends. No family.”

…It takes a moment for me to understand what he means by that. I wince at the amount of times I’ve silently complained about her always coming into Hotlantis but never actually buying anything. “Oh…”

He leans back, crossing his arms and looking up at the ceiling. “She is a strong girl, though. I would not have come here if not for her. I owe her much. But I had to leave. I made a mistake.”

“Yeah, you said that already.”

“This would have been it, but…” He turns his head to me. The darkened lenses of the mask make it basically impossible to see his eyes through them, but sitting right here next to him… I can almost make out a pair of weary, but kind eyes. Or maybe that’s just my mind making things up. “Shiver found us in Beluga District. We spoke. And she said you spoke to her.”

I hesitantly nod. “Y…Yeah, I did.”

“What you said made Shiver… reconsider. She gave me a chance.” His gaze turns and he looks down at the floor. “That is why I want to thank you. So… thank you, Harmony.” 

I look down at my hands. “But… That’s not… much of a reason to thank me…? I-I mean, all I did was tell her my thoughts…”

“That is true. You did not have to call her. But you did, and because you did, I am still here.” I can almost hear a smile on his words, weirdly enough.

Unable to wrap my head around what he’s saying, I simply look at him, then back down at myself, then back to him, back and forth, ignoring the pressure that’s starting to well up in my eyes. “But I… I didn’t… wh… huh…?”

“Sometimes, it is small actions that have big… eh… results. Maybe it means little to you, but it means a lot to me.” A soft laugh comes from him as he brings a hand up to his chin. “Now I owe you much as well. So, if you are in need of help, let me know.”

“…No. R-Really, I… I didn’t do anything.” I mumble, gluing my gaze to the floor. “Like… you’re nice, Kaleb. But you don’t know me. Honestly, I… don’t know why you put so much stock into what I had to say.”

“Is something wrong…?”

“…Yeah.” I swallow, my hands balling into fists as I look at my feet. “Yeah, there is. I kinda have this talent of letting people down. I always forget to take care of Jerry, I basically abandoned my closest friends since I just couldn’t keep up with them, I… kinda just don’t exist anymore. You’d, uh, honestly be better off making friends with just about anyone else.”

I feel him staring at me in a moment of tense silence before he lets out a soft sigh. “True, I do not know you. But I would like to. Maybe you have, er… ah, convinced yourself of these things, but what I have seen is different. You are… hard to read, but what you have done says much. Was trusting you so soon rash? Maybe so. But because we did, I am here today. That is why you have my faith.”

…Faith, huh. I hardly have faith in myself most days, but this random guy I met in a freaking sewer is just flatly saying he’s put his faith in me. I… can’t help but laugh at that. So I do. I laugh. Quietly at first, like a giggle. Then it sorta builds up, and I laugh harder and harder with tears starting to roll down my face… then I realize that I’m not actually laughing at all, and this really… really isn’t funny.

I can’t tell if he’s put off by me, or if he has the patience of a saint, but Kaleb doesn’t show any signs of moving at all. I’m sitting here, trying so hard to stifle this outburst of mine, and he’s just… lending his presence, I guess. But eventually, I am able to pull it together - a few sniffles, a cleared throat, and a deep breath, before I look at the masked man once again. “S-Sorry.” I mutter, nearly inaudibly. “I, uh… don’t know where that came from.”

“…Not many have said such a thing to you, have they?” He says solemnly. “That they have faith in you, I mean.”

Slowly, meekly, I shake my head.

A long sigh comes from him. “I am sorry, Harmony. Truly. Even more for… well, again. You seem to have convinced yourself of such things. That you do not deserve faith to be placed in you.” His gaze seems to turn to look at nothing, like he’s staring at some kind of distant thing that isn’t actually there. “Mistakes happen. Trust gets broken. Your worth, in your own eyes… dust. A trap many fall into, and the way out can be… a maze. I cannot convince you to have faith in yourself, Harmony. Such healing takes time. But remember - for what it may be worth - you have my faith.”

I usually hate these kinds of talks, especially when they pop up out of nowhere, but I find myself just quietly listening and nodding along to what he has to say. I open my mouth to speak, and all that comes out is a tiny croak. I take a long breath in, and let it out just as slowly.

…Seriously, what’s the deal with this guy anyway?! Shows up out of nowhere, saves my life, barely elaborates, leaves, then shows up again, only to make me sit here and start crying in public like some kinda kid! Anybody who may have seen us might get some really weird ideas of what the heck is going on - like, what would someone think seeing somebody having some kind of hysterical breakdown while sitting next to a guy who looks like his next stop after this is some desert-punk cyber rave or some crap like that?

“Who even are you?” I decide to break my silence and just ask him outright. “Like… what’s up with the mask? What’s up with you? You talk like you’re some ancient wiseman who sits alone on a mountain all day thinking about life and stuff.”

“Ah… well, honestly? Part of that is true. I was alone for a long time. Though, surely I’m not, ah… ancient.” He lets out a sort of amused chuckle at that. “The mask is… necessary, though.”

“But why? You’re not a wanted man anymore, right?”

“It’s not, er… something I can explain.” Kaleb clears his throat, a hand reaching up to the tip of his hood and tugging it ever so slightly further over his head. “If I could tell you why, I would. But I cannot. Er… here. Think of the mask as my face.”

I squint at him. “Then you have a really creepy face.”

“True.” He laughs again. “I do not like to be secretive, but there is nothing I can do. I assure you, though - none of what I have said today was a trick or lie.”

“…Y’know? I think I kinda already knew that.” Turning my body to better face him, I lean my arm against the back of the bench and hold my head up with my hand. “You just have a… weirdly genuine vibe? Emphasis on weird, though. N-Not that that’s a bad thing though, because… well… yeah.”

Kaleb gives a casual shrug. “We are all weird, in our own weird ways. But, to answer your question about who I am… I suppose I am your friend. Is this okay?”

The vocal, irrational part of me that lingers in the back of my mind starts to convince me once again to push him away, afraid that I’ll find some new and unique way to screw up a friendship once again, but… I don’t think I’m gonna listen. If I do actually screw things up again, then… well… I’ll deal with that when it happens. But with what he’s been saying… I kinda feel like he’s had his own crap to deal with in the past. Probably not the exact same thing as me, but maybe something like it.

I guess… it’s easy to feel alone in your head when everyone else who’s felt the same as you was also alone in their own heads.

“Yeah. That’s fine.” As the words leave my mouth, I can’t help but give a little smile with a thumbs-up.

Kaleb, looking down at my hand, meets the gesture with a pair of thumbs-ups of his own before hopping up to his feet. “Glad to hear. I, uh, hate to go though, but Lola has been waiting.”

“U-Uh, wait.” I quickly get up as well, pulling out my phone. “A couple things before you go, er… first, I gotta add you. Since, like, we’re friends now. What, uh… what’s your phone number?”

He glances down at my phone. “I do not have one.”

I blink, slowly slipping it back into my pocket. “…Y-Yeah, that makes sense. I also wanted to ask you about, uh, those tapes. The ones you were talking to the guy at the music store about?”

Kaleb nods, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out some oddly shaped cassettes with writing I can’t quite read on them. “They’re… strange, yes? Human music. I found them in the, ah… Splatlands. A device to listen, as well. The device is, well… old, though. It may break, and so I was looking for a new one. I knew it was unlikely, but I searched anyway. No luck.”

“Can I…?” Carefully reaching out, I gently take the tape from his hand after he gives me an approving nod. “You said human music?”

“Yes. Very ancient. Do not break it. Please.”

“Okay.” I nod. “You must really like human-made stuff, huh?”

He crosses his arms. “What are you saying?”

“Oh, Shiver said something about you having a, uh, human-made weapon or something, and…” I shrug. “Sorry. I realize that kinda sounds a little weird coming out of nowhere.”

“Ah. I see.” Kaleb clears his throat with a nod. “It, uh, is less an interest and more a… er… coincidence. Many ruins in the Splatlands have such things. I lived in a human ruin, for a time. Very dusty, I do not recommend.”

“Whoa. O-Okay. Anyways, uh…” Finally looking the tape over, I realize the issue… it’s ever-so-slightly bigger than the standard size most players are made for, since… Well, when cassettes took off, the leading producer had full reign over what would be standard, and it’s kinda stayed that way ever since. “So, what you’ve got here is a 4”x2½”x½”, which is - like you already figured out - the standard size observed in old human tech. Most tapes are actually 3½”x2”x½”, though, so most players have that size.”

He nods slowly, apparently very engrossed in my admittedly weirdly specific knowledge of cassette tape dimensions. “Ah. Makes sense.”

“Thing is, there are players compatible with this size of tape. They’re just a lot more rare, and anyone who buys one is almost definitely buying them because they also have found salvageable stuff like this.” I hand the cassette back to Kaleb. “There’s like this cabal of people on the internet who are, like, super into humans and stuff, so it’s definitely a niche that exists.”

Kaleb tilts his head, his voice a tone of genuine concern. “Er… what do you mean, ‘super into’ humans?”

I wince. “Uhhh… you sure you wanna get into that topic?”

His gaze once again wanders off at nothing before he silently shudders. “Y-You’re right. But, ah, moving on… where would I find a device like that?”

“I could order one for you, actually. At Hotlantis, I mean.”

“You could do this?”

I rub my arm. “Like, it’d take a while to show up, but yeah. And, uh, you could stop by every now and then. Since you don’t have a phone, I mean.”

“Ah. Well, thank you, Harmony. I am owing you more and more, it seems.”

“Honestly?” I look down. “I should thank you, actually. I’ve sorta been in a bit of a… rough patch, I guess. Kinda needed someone to talk to that wasn’t my boss. Or my neighbor. Or Jerry. Er, no offense, Jerry.”

“It was nothing, truly.” Kaleb waves his hand through the air before starting to glance around. “Also, uh, Jerry…?”

“You know. Jerry. You helped me find him, remember?”

He enthusiastically nods. “Ah, yes. Your, er, fish. Where is he?”

“Oh, he’s right-” I feel around my head. “…No. No, no, no.”

Kaleb puts a hand up to his forehead. “You lost him again…?”

“I-I thought he was just napping in my hair, but…!” Frantically, I start looking around. No sign of him anywhere. “Come on, not this…!”

The desert nomad simply places a hand on my shoulder and looks me in the eyes, a certain determination in his voice. “Stay calm. I will help you, and we will find him. Okay?”

“I… y-yeah. Right. He couldn’t have gone very far. So… yeah. Maybe… we start at the music shop?”

A simple thumbs up comes from the man alongside a resolute nod, and we retrace our steps from the quiet alcove back to the music shop. Of course, we don’t find him there, and so we head back to the trio of inkfish that Kaleb was apparently supposed to be chaperoning, and we all search around the mall in a group for the slippery little thorn in my side that I could never do away with - and after an hour’s worth of combing back and forth around the mall, we finally find him… napping in the folds of Kaleb’s scarf this whole time, having somehow snuck his way there during our conversation.

His only excuse is that it was warmer there than in my hair. I should be mad, but… I can’t stop giggling now that we’ve finally found him. The others were pretty entertained by it, too. Except for that Molly girl. She was kinda peeved.

Not long after that, I decide to go home and give Barry a call. He’s happy to hear from me, and even more so when I let him know that I’m ready to get back to work. I lay on my couch, staring at the ceiling - a position I’ve been in a lot recently, but today? It’s not because I’m moping. I’ve just… been given a lot to think about, and something to look forward to.

It’s not much. It really isn’t. But it’s something. It’s progress. It’s knowing that at least someone has faith in me - that someone understands. Honestly, that’s more than enough for me. And if it keeps up, then… maybe I’ll remember how to have faith in myself.

…

…No, not maybe. For some reason, I know that I’ll get there.