Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Octopi are often regarded as one of the most intelligent invertebrates on the planet. They exhibit problem-solving similar to a human child, being able to complete puzzles, untie knots, and open jars. Furthermore, they are also considered to be master escape artists. Demonstrating an ability to navigate through complex environments with ingenuity and grace, it is the sole reason why octopi are known for their intelligence—because of their unparalleled adaptability in the underwater world.

Eight had been loyal to the Octarian army for as long as she could remember until she heard the Calamari Inkantation. The sweet melody was all that played in her mind. It called her to a place unknown and for a while she thought she could ignore it—but not anymore. Tonight was the night she was going to escape.

Lifting the covers off her bunk bed, she was fully suited in her uniform, holding a bag that carried the few possessions she owned. As her fellow octolings slept nearby, Eight did her best to creep by them without making a sound. She cracked the barracks door open and looked back at them once more. There was nothing left for her here.

Peering out the door, both ways were clear, so she stepped out into the hallway. The fluorescent lights cast a dull green haze and the buzz above easily hid the soft tap of her footsteps. Each stride she took was a greater risk on her life. If anyone were to find out she was sneaking around, she would be dead. There had been rumors among the forces of soldiers who had defected and how they were never seen again. At the time, it was mostly used to scare others into staying, but tonight it felt like they were talking about her.

The sounds of footsteps echoed against the paneled walls as she came to the end of the hallway. Her back against the wall, she looked out at the expansive main quarters. Guards with green skin and red eyes marched alongside the walls and bars that expanded on forever. Green? Why were they green? She thought to herself. Her heartbeat thumped in her chest—going through here was the quickest way to the train station, but Eight knew she wouldn’t be able to avoid alerting these guards.

Something creaked behind her, causing her to whip her head around. A panel from the wall had fallen, and upon closer inspection revealed a small crawl space. She stepped inside with zeal and began to push her way through pipes and wires poking out. With very little light overhead, the darkness seemed to swallow her as she traveled further into the labyrinth of twists and turns. Eight knew there were passageways all across the facility so one of them had to lead to the station.

Once she came to a dead end, Eight undid the screws and pushed the panel forwards. From where she stood, the coast was clear. She took a careful step onto the floor before placing the surface back into the wall. All there was from here was forward.

As she began to take a step, something from above knocked her to the floor. Her and a dark figure tumbled and rolled against the linoleum, both struggled to get the other hand. If only she had her Octoshot, she would be able to land a swift shot on them and end the fight quickly. But as they scuffled on the ground, she would have to use other means to win the fight.

Without thinking, she threw a punch, her fist landing square on the figure’s face. They groaned and within seconds, Eight threw another. Relenting meant losing, and she wasn’t ready to concede. As the figure kneed her in the side, the pain of the blow intensified, but she ignored it. Eight’s breaths came in rapid bursts, a mix of adrenaline and energy allowing her to draw another blow before rolling on top.

She held her hand high above the assailant’s head while the other held their neck. One strike through the eyes and the fight would be hers. However, as the dark figure wheezed pitifully, her heart cramped and her hand hesitated. The seconds stretched as Eight struggled to make a choice, so much so that the figure was able to throw Eight off guard with a hit.

They tumbled on the floor like they had previously, but as Eight scratched the figure in an attempt to grip onto anything, they were faster, swiftly pinning her to the ground and covering her mouth—not that she would have been able to make a sound in the first place.

The only thing Eight could see was bright, amber eyes for the mask the assailant wore covered their entire face. She couldn't tell what they were, octoling or inkling, only slightly humanoid and a little taller than her.

“Make a sound and it’ll be your last, do you understand me?” The dark figure said in Octarian. Their voice rumbled low, nearly a growl, causing Eight to nervously nod. Lifting their gloved hand, Eight made no attempt to scream for help. “Who are you and what are you doing just walking around?” As Eight began to move a hand, the assailant grabbed her wrist. “Don’t try anything with me.”

But all she did was point to herself and mouth the word Eight. “Eight?” The figure repeated. “That’s your name? Can you talk?”

Eight shook her head no frantically.

“Okay,” the figure hesitated, looking around for a moment. “Listen to everything I have to say. I’m here investigating DJ Octavio’s plans for creating an army of sanitized octarians, and this place is crawling with them. It’s not safe for you to be wandering around at a time like this.”

“I know,” Eight mouthed to the best of her abilities. “I’m escaping.”

“Oh.” Something about their demeanor changed. They stood up and offered a hand towards her. “Follow me. I know a route we can take to the train so that we won’t be seen.”

“And why should I trust you?” They finally were able to sign.

“Because I can help you get out of here alive.”

As they looked down at her, doubts and hesitation crept into Eight’s mind. Trust was a luxury she couldn’t afford, especially in an environment like this with a mysterious figure like the one in front of her. But she had to take a chance if she wanted to survive. Taking their hand, Eight stood up and the two didn’t pause to step into the passageway. In complete darkness she followed without question, her hand tight around the figure’s like her life depended on it.

Eight lost count of the amount of turns they took. It seemed as though they traveled forever before they came to an eventual stop. In front of them were four passageways leading in all different directions.

The figure turned to her, pointing to the very left tunnel. “Keep walking straight through that way and it will lead you to the train station. After you climb over the pay terminal and get on the metro, find a man named Iso Padre. He will help take you to Inkopolis.”

“Inkopolis?” She raised an eyebrow.

“It’s the place where Inklings live. You’ll be safe there.” Despite the darkness, Eight could tell their eyes were squinting.

Eight started walking towards the final passageway. “Thank you for helping me, whoever you are,” she motioned. The figure wasted no time nodding curtly before disappearing into the darkness.

…

It was difficult for Eight to stay awake due to the shock of it all, but when an automated voice began to speak over the intercom, her eyes widened. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are finally approaching our last stop, Inkopolis,” Iso Padre translated for her. “Please ensure that you have all your belongings with you and be prepared to disembark.”

As they waited for the train to come to a slow stop, the isopod asked her, “Are you going to be alright on your own? I heard the surface is cold.”

“I’m going to be fine,” she motioned. “But what about you?”

“Do not worry about me,” he reassured. “I am headed nowhere in particular. I ride for the pleasure of riding.”

Eight smiled for the first time that night. “Thank you for helping me, Iso Padre,” she signed as she got up. I couldn’t have made it to Inkopolis without your translations.”

She heard the doors open behind her as Iso Padre raised his hand in salutation. “It was my pleasure.”

Stepping off the train, the air on the surface was different, nipping at her nose and wind blowing flush onto her cheeks. It took her a flight of stairs until Eight finally exited the station, and when she did, she gasped at the sight before her. Every visible space was filled with twinkling lights and bright signs that poked out from the curves of the skyscrapers before her. Underground, the only sound that echoed was that of marching feet and clanking pipes, but here the overwhelming sound of radio music, trains moving, and the distant hum of urban life filled the air. Even without any people around, the city pulsed with life in a way that Eight had never experienced before.

As she stepped out into the square, small, white crystals descended from the sky and touched the tip of her nose. She flinched at the frigid sting, only for it to melt within seconds. Heaps of white lay all across the city; this must have been an Inkopolis thing Eight would have to get used to.

A familiar melody made its way into her ears. Turning her head to follow the sound, Eight gazed upon a food truck. From where she stood, there was a sign in inkling that she couldn’t read, but it was the illustrations of money that transcended language.

Her stomach rumbling the entire time, Eight trudged through the heaps of white until she reached the truck. Calamari Inkantation played through a small radio on the counter, and behind it stood a crusty shrimp that gave her a surprised look. Her body shivered the longer he stared; maybe she should’ve brought something to cover her hair.

The shrimp asked her something before pointing to the ticket on display. Staring back at him dumbly, Eight shook her head. There was nothing she could do to say that she didn’t have a ticket, let alone money. A lump developed in her throat as her stomach growled louder. As she went to turn away, the shrimp reached out and grabbed her arm.

“Wait,” was the word he said as let go.

He disappeared from view and Eight stood there, waiting, until he returned with a dish on a platter. It was a large hotdog sandwiched between two panko shrimp, covered in sauces and sprinkled with garnish. She smiled so much that it hurt, letting out a noise of excitement as she looked up once more.

The crusty shrimp said something in return, which she didn’t catch, but she was beyond grateful—Eight couldn’t thank him enough. Sinking to the ground, Eight devoured the meal like she had never eaten before. The savory flavor of the meat combined with the crunch of the fried goodness made her drool. It was nothing like she had ever tasted before. She scarfed it down before she could take a breath and licked her fingertips clean of the crumbs.

As she handed the plate back, the shrimp placed something on the counter—a blanket. Eight took it and wrapped it around her body before she could question why he offered it. Blocking out the cold, it stopped her from shaking so terribly.

For the rest of the night, Eight curled up on one of the picnic chairs, the blanket draped over her body. Far away from the facility, with no money or a place to call home, it was like a weight had been lifted off her chest. Despite the cold, she was a bird free from its cage, savoring the taste of newfound freedom. And as she looked up at the night sky, she never knew how beautiful the constellations could be.

Chapter Text

Eight didn’t wake up, rather she came to the slow realization that she was no longer unconscious. The bright sunlight was more intense than anything she had even seen and through the frigid numbness, she felt someone touching her tentacles. The incoherent murmuring that followed was not from one inkling, but a whole dozen of them.

She jolted out of her chair and onto the snow. A whole group of inklings surrounded her on all sides as they collectively gasped at her pain. She should’ve never slept in that chair; now all of Inkopolis was crowded around her.

Shuffling backwards to avoid the hand that touched her, as she bumped into someone, she felt three more hands touch her head. Each time one inkling faded into the crowd, another one replaced them. It was a relentless cycle that she was too weak to escape from. Eight let out a piercing cry, holding her head on her knees to prevent people from caressing her, but it only excited the crowd. They awed and moved forwards; if she didn’t do something to move, they would surely suffocate her.

From the corner of her eye, someone pushed their way to the front. Holding a broom, the crusty shrimp yelled loudly, thrashing the broom around to make space for the two of them. He knelt down and put a hand on her back. “I will get you away from here,” he enunciated slowly and then grabbed her arm. Before she knew it, they were pushing through the mob, leaving footprints in the snow. Everyone wore winter coats and heavy boots while Eight stumbled away from them in a two–piece uniform and a blanket.

The next moments blurred together like she was in a haze. Barely awake, he led her to the tower in the center of the square and opened the door. Once they were inside, it lifted like an elevator would, the entire time Eight leaning up against the shrimp. He muttered something sympathetically but she could only give him a blank stare.

When the elevator doors opened, the shrimp man led her down a long white hallway. Familiar fluorescent lights buzzed and pleasant music played overhead, its familiarity bringing strange comfort. Despite the warm air around her, she couldn’t shake the chill, and the shrimp noted this, quickening his pace.

He suddenly turned towards an office door and moved Eight into an empty desk chair. Slumped down with her blanket, she could barely stay awake to recognize the many voices and faces that leered near here. An Octoling woman with long, turquoise tentacles moved her chair so she was the only thing Eight saw. Her reassuring smile brought Eight a strange warmth as she put a manicured hand on her seat, and even if she wasn’t so cold, Eight wouldn’t have flinched.

“My name is Marina,” she said in Octarian, “and I heard that you spent the night in Inkopolis square. That must have been terrifying.”

Eight’s lips slowly curled into a smile. It was like she had been robbed of oxygen for so long and only now was she being rushed with a breath of fresh air. “For some reason it wasn’t…though it was very cold,” Eight’s hands trembled as she slowly signed. “Are you Marina…the combat engineer?”

“I am,” she grinned. “I can’t believe I finally met someone who recognized me.”

“How could I not? The technology you created was incredible.” Her chest filled with warmth. “My name is Eight and…last night I escaped from the Octarian army.”

“We know. You’re all Inkopolis is talking about right now,” a voice said from behind. A short Inkling with white tentacles leaned against the back of Marina’s chair. “We haven’t had a defected Octarian since Marina.”

Eight raised an eyebrow. “How do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Learning Octarian is a part of our training.”

“Inklings are quick learners and knowing a second language proves pretty useful on unconventional missions,” Marina added. “I think it’s time we all introduce ourselves. I’m sure it would make Eight feel less like a stranger, wouldn’t it?”

“Sure would!” Pearl returned.

Across the table were a pink and green Inkling. In fashionable winter coats, they sat side by side next to an older man. “Hi!” The pink one started. “I’m Callie and this is Marie…and right over there is Gramps. We’re a part of the Squid Sisters!”

“You know, stay fresh,” the green one, Marie, commented.

Eight had to clench her jaw to make sure her mouth didn’t drop. She couldn’t believe it—it was the Squid Sisters! Containing her excitement, she gestured, “So glad to finally meet you,” with a wide grin.

All of a sudden, her chair moved suddenly. She looked up to see a young Inkling with short, orange tentacles standing above her. “I’m Agent Four, but my friends call me Four.” Eight gave a surprised look when they took her hand and shook it. It must have been a strange Inkling custom.

There was another Inkling Eight hadn’t been introduced to. Tall with long, green tentacles, their amber stare sent a shiver down her spine. “I’m Three,” she introduced herself, hands in her pockets.

“Nice to meet you.”

Pearl pumped her fists in the air. “Now that we’re all friends, let’s get this meeting started!”

“Right on,” Marina said. “Eight, I hope you’re warm enough because we have a lot of things we want to discuss.”

After the fact, the lights in the office began to dim. In the middle of a table was a small projector that Marie leaned towards to turn on, casting a soft glow to display a presentation at the front of the room. Then she stood up and neared the screen, straightening her posture as Marie readied herself to present.

“Since our last encounter with DJ Octavio, my crew and I have noticed a change in Octo Canyon.” She clicked a remote and the presentation changed with it. “A week ago, on one of our patrols, Agent Four and Three captured imagery of a new type of enemy—a sanitized Octoling.”

The image was blurry, but Eight knew what she was looking at. It was just like the guards she desperately tried to avoid while escaping—green skin, blue tentacles, and red eyes. This was what the mysterious figure was talking about.

“These types of Octarians are cleansed of their free will and submit to whoever commands them,” Marie continued, her eyes scanning the room. “They exhibit heightened combat abilities and a complete lack of individuality, which makes fighting them difficult. I, along with Agent Three and Four, believe that this is the next step for DJ Octavio’s inevitable comeback. We need to address this as quickly as we can. If he can create legions of mindless slaves willing to do his bidding, what does this mean for the future of Inkopolis?”

“She’s right.” All worried eyes shifted over to Three. “We need to gather intel on his plans and develop a strategy to put an end to his plans. It’s just this time we have an advantage.”

Eight’s cheeks flushed as everyone glanced at her.

“She has recent insider knowledge of what DJ Octavio might be planning,” Three said.

“It’s been a long time since I was in the army, and I know for a fact times have changed,” Marina added. “The Octarians have moved away from Octo Canyon altogether and instead live underground, making it harder for our unit to infiltrate their facility from the outside. We need someone like you, Eight.”

“But how do you know that I’m what you’re looking for?”

“Don’t worry, Three put in a good word for you,” Four stated, adding a wink. Eight brushed it off as another weird Inkling custom.

“Don’t get too excited, though,” Marie said from the front. “We would need to assess your skills when it comes to combat and have you fill out paperwork before we get to that point, catch my drift?” Eight nodded. “This is a serious decision we’re asking you to consider, though. We’re putting our trust into you.”

Eight’s stomach churned with nausea. “And if I don’t accept?”

“Then you’re free to go. The choice is yours to make.”

Choice, it was all about choice. To go or to not go, to be a part of something greater than herself or to fade into obscurity. Taking a breath, she finally signed, “I want to be a part of this, to make a difference.

“Good,” Marie gave a small smile. “Our first training will be next week to allow you to get settled in. There, we will see if you have what it takes.”

“Right. Thank you.”

Callie and Marie murmured amongst themselves while Three and Four began to walk out—the meeting was over. However, now that Eight thought about it, where was she supposed to “get settled into?” She hesitated for a moment before turning to Marina. Tapping her shoulder to get her attention, a lump developed in her throat once Eight caught her attention. “Marina, where am I supposed to go? I don’t have a place to stay and I can’t go back outside.”

“Now that you brought that up,” her soft voice whispered, “I was thinking you come stay with Pearl and I. I know we don’t know each other personally, but when I first left the army, I needed all the support I could get.”

“Are you serious?”

“I’m dead serious,” Marina beamed.

“I don’t know what to say.” Despite her weakened body, she gushed with joy.

“Don’t say anything. It’s my treat.” Marina got up and held out her hands, and when Eight took them, she pulled her up. “Come on.”

“Are we going to your house?”

“No, I’m taking you to the hospital. You’re still shivering and your lips are blue.”

Even in Octarian, the word hospital was unfamiliar to her, and when Marina later described it, the imagery of the Octarian sterile medical facilities gave her the chills. But in Inkopolis, the doctors who inspected her handled her with care and with Marina holding her arm, she purred the entire way home.

***

It was dark when Eight and Marina got home from the hospital—the diagnosis, mild hypothermia. Eight held onto Marina like a lost child as the older Octoling showed her around her shared apartment. Pearl, in her frazzled state, accompanied them as Marina showed off the beautiful view of Inkopolis from the living room and the quaint kitchen. It wasn’t until they reached a certain door in their hallway did Pearl and Marina exchange sneaky looks.

Opening it, Eight’s eyes widened. “We always had a guest bedroom, but Pearlie and I wanted to make it special just for you,” Marina stammered over her words. “Apologies if it looks a little bland…we can fix it if you don’t like it.”

But why would she ever want to fix it? The room was small for the three of them, with a grayish bed against the wall and a dresser across from it. The rug underneath was a pastel pink and the giant window behind all of it granted Eight the best view to watch the constellations dance across the night sky. There was even a stuffed octopus on the bed and Squid Sisters posters on the wall.

“How do you like it?” Marina asked

Eight hugged her tightly, only to pull away in embarrassment. “Sorry, that was—I don’t know—I love it so much. I’ve never had a room of my own and…and you gave me all of this.”

To her surprise, Marina squeezed back. “I get what that’s like not having a room, so this one is all yours. And sometime this week, we can go out and find some new clothes for you.”

She simply nodded because even if her hands were free she wouldn’t have been able to communicate how grateful she felt. The sensation of Marina embracing her was strangely comforting as they stood there for a moment longer, finding warmth in the unspoken connection between them.

When Eight got under the covers, the sheets smelled new.

Chapter Text

The sound of chirping was distinct enough to rouse Eight from sleep, and as her eyelashes fluttered awake, she could detect the sound of pots banging against the stove. She knew she had to get up and start the day but the warmth of her bedsheets kept lulling her to sleep.

Glancing at her clock with hazy vision, when she realized what time it was she sat up immediately and threw off her covers. Stumbling towards her dresser, Eight put on a pair of thick leggings and a jacket. Afterwards, she left her room to brush her teeth before joining Marina and Pearl in the kitchen.

Marina and Pearl, with their backs turned to Eight, were in their pajamas cracking eggs over a bowl and mixing it in with a powdery substance. Eight smiled with silent amusement at their mismatched pajamas and tired eyes, and as she moved one of the bar stools to sit down, the seat creaked, making them both jump.

Marina turned around first, shaken with fright. “Eight, you scared me!” She scolded. “Did you have a good sleep?”

“Yes.” She bit her lip, trying to stifle a laugh. “What are you making?”

“Squidcakes. Pearl, can you get out a pan?”

The stove made a clicking sound before Pearl placed a pan over the bright flame. Marina threw in some butter and let it sizzle while Pearl mixed the bowl’s contents together. When it was ready, she spooned it onto the pan’s hot surface, causing it to hiss some more.

“Are you excited for tryouts today?” Marina inquired, flipping the pancakes over.

Eight’s eyebrows furrowed. “Sort of…it’s just that I don’t know what to expect. It’s not like I’m a complete beginner but…what if they surprise me with something I’ve never seen before?”

“Then you use what you know and overcome the obstacle.” She placed the pancakes on three separate plates. “There’s no way you’re not going to get in.”

“Maybe…I just don’t want to freeze up or make a mistake.”

“Mistakes are part of the process, Eight. It just depends on how you react afterwards that truly matters.” She then put one of the plates in front of Eight. “Take a bite, it’ll make you feel better.”

Eight gave her a look before she picked up a fork and knife and awkwardly cut into the fluffy squidcakes. Raising the fork to her lips, Marina watched with delight as the young Octoling’s eyes widened. As Eight chewed, the anxiety written across her face melted away.

“Do you like it?” Pearl asked, but Eight only nodded as she shoveled more food into her mouth. Part of her couldn’t believe that Inklings were lucky enough to eat this kind of food every day if they wanted to. It didn’t take long for her to finish her plate—once she did, Eight excused herself and stood up.

“Where are you headed?” Marina called to her.

Eight turned. “To the Octo Canyon for tryouts…?”

“With your hair down like that?”

“I think so?”

“Come here, let me help you,” she said, patting one of the barstools near her. When Eight sat, Marina began to move her tentacles to her liking. “You should always wear your hair up when you’re training. Helps you focus better.” Pulling back her hair, Marina secured it in a bun.

“You look badass,” Pearl smiled.

Eight’s face warmed. “Thanks.”

“Before you leave, there’s one more thing I wanted to give you,” the older Octoling said. She walked to the hallway and disappeared into her room for a moment before coming back with a white box in hand. She placed it in Eight’s lap and gestured for her to open it. Hesitantly, Eight lifted the lid and gazed down at what looked to be a sea cucumber, only to realize once she picked it up that it was a cellphone.

“I bought it so we could keep in contact while you’re gone. Now that you’re going off on your own, I still want you to feel close to me—to us. If you have any questions about getting to Octo Canyon or…or you need something, just text me.” A genuine smile graced Eight’s lips as Marina continued. “I already added mine and Pearl’s number in there.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” she signed.

“We didn’t, but we wanted to. Consider it as a small piece of home wherever you go—and don’t worry about bothering us, we always want to hear from you.”

Pearl added on, saying, “Just don’t prank call us when you're on a mission.”

“She’s right. I don’t think either of us could handle that.”

Both of their bright smiles had not a hint of malice behind them. A lump formed in Eight’s throat as she admired their beams. In a world that had shown her unwavering cruelty, she couldn’t understand how Marina and Pearl were so kind and couldn’t begin to form the words to describe how grateful she felt for what they’ve done for her. Standing up suddenly, Eight threw her arms around them and squeezed tightly.

“Go get ‘em, tiger shark,” Pearl whispered excitedly.

“You’ll do great, I know it,” Marina mumbled as well. When Eight pulled away, she said, “Pearl and I are going to be doing the late night broadcast, so you might come home alone. Take a key before you go and dinner will be in the fridge with instructions, but if you don’t understand them just call me—”

”—I think she can figure it out,” Pearl interrupted, “now you better get going if you don’t want to be late for your first meeting!”

Eight giggled while she walked, moving towards the door and putting the key in her pocket. Fear no longer clogged her chest like a sickness, rather anticipation made her heart beat quickly and her feet carry her swiftly. There were a lot of firsts this week, but none were as important as the first time Eight felt Marina and Pearl’s unconditional support.

…

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are finally approaching Tentakeel Outpost,” the automated voice said overhead. “Please ensure that you have all your belongings with you and be prepared to disembark.” Standing up, Eight swayed for a moment as the train came to its slow stop, and once the doors opened, she practically leaped outside.

Although the canyon air was warmer than Inkopolis, she still felt a chill travel down her spine while she walked. Unlike Inkopolis, there was no snow that packed in heaps and no birds to fill the air with their chirping. The sound of her boots crunching the dirt did little to distract from her anxious heart. It didn’t help that the massive rocks that surrounded her carried an echo everywhere she went.

Past a curve in her path, the rocks revealed a small cabin with the agents standing beside it. Decorative flags strung above the small structure blew with the morning wind, their vivid colors punctuated by the sun. As she neared them, Eight could see Three and Four talking amongst themselves while Callie, Marie, and Captain Cuttlefish had their own conversation nearby.

Each step she took only increased the growing sinking feeling in her gut. There’s no way you’re not going to get in, Marina had said that morning, but it didn’t feel that way now. She could no longer ignore the overwhelming doubts in her mind—that they wouldn’t like her, they wouldn’t understand her, or find any reason to prove she wasn’t good enough to be one of them.

When she finally walked up to them, her hands were sweating terribly. It was Callie who approached her first with a grin. “Hello, Eight! Hope you’re having a good morning!”

“You as well,” she signed with shaky hands.

“Good to see you finally made it, Eight,” Marie said. “I was just about to start our meeting.”

Just as Marie was about to announce something, Four nudged her side and waved. Eight waved back, biting her lip to hide her excitement.

“I just wanted to say welcome to Tentakeel Outpost, Eight,” Marie started. “This is where we meet to do our patrols and training. Over there is Cuttlefish Cabin; it has a bathroom and a fridge for snacks. Today we are going to be doing standard training—an hour and a half of exercising, then a turf war, and ending with combat. Any questions?”

“Did you buy more squid rings?” Mischievousness laced Four’s voice.

Marie rolled her eyes. “Yes, they’re in the freezer, but we eat them afterwards. Now, everybody, follow me. We’re going to start with a run.”

Four let out a groan compared to Three who followed in silence. Marie took off her fur coat and threw it to Callie, revealing a uniform similar to Three and Four’s, but more tailored to her body. She noticed Eight’s intense staring, but paid it no mind when she began their run through the Canyon for the next thirty minutes.

Keeping pace with the agents wasn’t difficult, rather it was the idea of Marie participating alongside them that Eight had trouble comprehending. Octarian leaders liked to shout commands at the front while they watched everyone else work. Here, Marie wiped the sweat from her brow as she led the agents through stretching. Seeing everyone’s faces instead of the backs of Octoling soldiers was one of the many strange comforts Eight never thought about before living amongst Inklings. Four panted like a dog despite the cold weather and Three only breathed through her nose.

Once they were finished, Marie uncovered a bin from nearby and took off the lid. “You three are going to be using these faux hero–shots to have a turf war,” she said, giving the three of them a gun and a vest. “Not only do you have to paint the most turf, but you have to eliminate the other players by shooting at their vest.”

Eight quickly put the vest over her jacket while Three and Four replaced their own for the new vest. “You’re going down,” Four said, shoving Three in a joking manner.

Three shoved them back. “And you’re an easy target.”

“Not if I get you first, you green balloon.”

Before Four could jump on her, Marie grabbed the back of their vest and yelled, “Save this for the turf field! All of you, go find somewhere to start.”

Just beyond them was a small concrete area marked by the same flags that hovered over Tentakeel Outpost. There were varying levels of concrete cubes that were covered in pillars of differing sizes. Clutching her hero–shot, Eight watched as Three and Four disappeared behind the many pillars as she hid behind one as well. Her shaky breath left her lips in a cold fog, evaporating into thin air.

“Okay, the rules are simple. Ink the most turf to win and eliminate players,” Marie announced from the sidelines. “Ready…go!”

Paint splattered the ground but it wasn’t her own—from a certain distance Eight could tell Three and Four were already covering ground. Eight shot the area around her before creeping to the next pillar, moving in absolute silence aside from the sound of her gun. When she moved to hide behind an elevated pillar, that was when Eight encountered her first problem—the sound of Four coming her way. They weren’t aware of Eight's presence at the moment, but she would need to think quickly if she wanted it to stay that way.

Eight waited for Four to drop to the ground before splatting up the pillar wall. At the top, she scanned the environment to see they had made much progress but was headed in the opposite direction, leaving Three, who posed as a close enough target. Seeing the mark of Three’s green ink, she dove off the pillar and headed in her direction.

The more she shot, the closer Eight got to her target. She splatted her way from elevated ledge to ledge until she heard the familiar sound of Three’s bootsteps. Rolling from behind a concrete ledge, Eight didn’t hesitate to start shooting at her target. Three was caught off guard, taking some paint to the chest, but still managed to pose a threat. Dropping to the ground, Three shot at her with great force, retaliation with swift and precise paint splatters.

Three was able to splat some paint on Eight’s vest. She became bold with her movements, dodging swiftly so she could get close enough to grab Three’s vest. Just as Eight aimed her hero–shot at her chest, something from behind fell onto the concrete.

“Y'know Picasso would be proud,” Four called out to them, “but this isn’t an art exhibition. I’m here to win!”

Right as Eight was about to turn around, Four splatted her vest and it buzzed over her jacket—she was out. Four hollered with laughter and painted their way towards Three to continue the battle, but Eight could think about the sinking feeling that had returned. It was impossible not to hear Three and Four bickering echo from above the pillars, only worsening the feeling that burrowed in her stomach.

Once Eight finally made her way to the sidelines, she sat next to where Marie stood, the taste of vomit making its way up her throat. She looked up at her to see if Marie would say anything about her failure, and for a split second, she glanced back at her. Eight ripped her gaze away before she could truly see what the Inkling might’ve been thinking. She saw me, was the only thought that repeated in her mind as her body began to shake.

The minutes didn’t seem to pass by fast enough because when Four eventually arrived, it was like hours had passed. They were slumped over with a frown across their face as Three soon appeared behind them, stoic as ever.

Marie started, “I assume—”

“—She won?” Four grumbled. “Yeah, she did.”

“Good to know,” she replied.

The three of them gathered around her, covered in paint, as they awaited the next announcement. “The final thing we’ll be doing is combat practice. There will be no weapons this time—it’s hand–to–hand combat.” Marie then glanced at Four. “Because you and Eight lost first, you two will be the first to scrimmage.”

There was a flat concrete area behind them that Eight assumed was for the scrimmage. While Marie and Three stood at the sidelines once again, Eight and Four circled each other on the pavement. “I’ll go easy on you this time, Eight,” they grinned.

I won’t allow that, she wanted to say, but their eyes were somewhere else. While they weren’t paying attention, Eight extended her leg in a seamless motion, kicking Four right in the jaw. Right before they could fall to the ground, she lunged at them and grabbed their vest, dragging them upwards. She wrapped her arms around their neck, putting Four in a chokehold. Their nails dug against her skin but she didn’t relent.

“Let go of me!” Four struggled to yell out.

“Then tap out, Four,” Three said from the sidelines. “You can’t win this.”

They writhed some more, but Eight only tightened their grip—Three was right, there was no way they were going to win this. Unable to shoot her a nasty look, Four tapped the pavement three times and once they were free from her grasp, Four stumbled towards Marie.

“Can we have a redo?” They asked her, but she only shook her head.

“No. I never said when you were supposed to start, but in a real world scenario, you would have been dead. The enemy never hesitates and neither should you.”

“But—!”

“I don’t want to hear it.” She silenced them with a finger. “Three, Eight, you’re both next. Make this quick—I’m getting hungry.”

Three walked over to where she stood, her gaze intense. They were feet apart from one another but neither made a move—Eight wasn’t expecting Marie to commence their fight and the extreme staring was getting awkward. It wasn’t until Three’s hand twitched deceptively that she finally took a step forward. Winding up her arm, Eight swung forwards and hit Three with little hesitation.

Eight’s movements were fast and calculated, each aim made with precision. With each punch, she dodged one of Three’s. The Inkling was able to land a couple hits on her side, but Eight counteracted with a grab of her wrist and a swing to the gut.

Stumbling backwards, Three clutched her stomach, struggling to find her balance. Eight waited for her to stand up and catch her breath before she began again. But this time, Three anticipated her swing, grabbing her fist before shifting to hold her arm. All at once, with all the strength in her body, Three swung Eight over her shoulder and she landed hard on the concrete. Pain shot through her entire system as she gasped for breath on the pavement. To make matters worse, Three was steadily approaching her, readying another attack.

“Come on, Eight!” She heard Four scream. “I don’t want to see her win! Kick her ass!”

The throbbing of her muscles would have to wait until after the fight. When Three was close enough, Eight delivered a powerful and swift kick, sending the Inkling back once more. This allowed her enough time to stand up before Three followed with more hits, her determination evident from the strength of her blows.

Eight had lost the turf war earlier, she wasn’t about to lose this, not when Four was cheering her on and Marie’s glaring eyes followed her.
Three was too confident with their next strike, mistakenly thinking it would take Eight out for a final time. Eight dodged it and maneuvered to push her off balance instead, using her entire body weight to do so. Three fell onto the pavement like she had earlier, and with adrenaline surging through her body, Eight lunged on top of her.

She grabbed both of Three’s wrists and held them above her head. With their faces only inches apart, Eight mouthed, “Tap out,” looking directly into her eyes.

But Three only writhed underneath her like Four had before—what was it with Inklings and not giving up? Each breath she took sounded like a wheeze and the sweat on her face glistened under the harsh glare of the afternoon light. Her cheeks were even flushed a deep red. No matter how much she squirmed, Eight would not give in.

Three let her gaze linger for a moment longer before tapping her foot three times. When Eight stood up, she turned and extended a hand to her teammate. Taking it, Eight pulled Three up and helped steady her before letting go.

With one look at Three’s tired face, Eight could clearly see a bruise beginning to form near her jaw. She raised a hand to touch her jaw, but Three took a step back. “You have a bruise right there,” Eight signed. “Also I’m sorry for hitting you.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. Shows that you fight good.” Three blushed with embarrassment. “Well—you fight well.”

“Really?”

“I mean…I’ve never seen anything like it. When I threw you over my shoulder, I was impressed when you kicked me back.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Do people not kick back here?”

“Well…Four doesn’t.”

Eight laughed quietly as they both approached Marie, her muscles still sore from the ordeal. But when she met the Inkling’s gaze, her nerves came back to her. “How did I do?”

“You did well. You never hesitated on the field and you demonstrated that you have a high level of fitness. Plus, you seem to have natural chemistry with the other agents. That’s not something that can be taught.” Marie held out her hand to shake Eight’s. “I wanted to say two things—congratulations and welcome to Squidbeak Splatoon, Agent Eight, as our newest recruit.”

If it weren’t for Four’s persistent cheering, she would have fainted from pure shock. “I’m so excited to start working with you.” Reaching to shake Marie’s hand, her lips curled into a genuine smile.

“Can you believe it?” Four said. “Now that we’re on a team, we’re going to do so many fun things together!”

“Like what?”

“When we’re not on missions, we can hang out at the Cuttlefish Cabin and raid the fridge. And if we try hard enough, we can convince Three to let us have a sleepover at her house.”

Eight tilted her head. “What is a s-l-e-e-p-o-v-e-r?”

“It’s an occasion when friends spend the night at someone’s house,” Three said from behind them, “which is not what you will be doing because last time you broke my microwave.”

“How was I supposed to know metal doesn’t go in there?”

“It’s common sense, Four. Everyone knows this.” Three then turned to Eight, a shy smile gracing her face. “Now that you’re an agent, what’s the first thing you’re going to do?”

“Call Marina and Pearl to tell them the good news. They’ll want to hear all about it.”

Three raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were good friends with them.”

“I mean I hope I am—I live with them. When I first met them, they offered to let me stay in their apartment.”

Four couldn’t resist teasing Eight. “So would you describe it as…a constant sleepover?”

“Four,” Three gritted through her teeth. “Tomorrow is my day to bring food for everyone,” she glanced between the two of them. “Do you guys want me to bring anything specific?”

“Ink Sushi rolls,” Four said.

“Tentacle Tempura,” she signed, but as she formed the words, Three’s attention was elsewhere. She soon realized that Marie was walking towards her with something in her hands. And when she finally stood in front of Eight, Marie had a wide–toothed grin across her face.

“Here is your uniform, Agent Eight.” Handing it to her, she added, “I also have some paperwork at the Cabin I need you to fill out. Come with me.”

Eight only nodded. Her and the other agents hadn’t wandered far from the Cabin, so the walk back wasn’t far. She was handed a giant stack of pages with a sticky note attached to the top. “Tomorrow, we’re meeting for another training session at the same time, so bring the paperwork. Write your number somewhere on those sheets so I can add you to our group chat,” Marie said. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” she motioned, “see you tomorrow.”

She let out a breath, maybe it was a sigh of relief, or maybe it was the weight of the world lifting off her shoulders. The world of Inkopolis was cold, frigid, unfamiliar, and unyielding, but for right now, the sun felt warm on her skin and the chill of the Inkopolis air began to thaw, slowly but surely.

…

When Eight got home, it was just how she had left it, except the apartment was void of the life that had once brightly filled it. All the breakfast dishes were washed and put away, and the couch pillows were fluffed to perfection. With the train ride home being more crowded than usual, the sun had set relatively quickly considering how early Eight thought it was. Thinking about it now, it must have been another odd surface thing.

Inside the fridge, there was a plastic–wrapped plate left for her with a sticky note that read,

Take off the plastic wrap and put this in the microwave for two minutes. Do NOT put the fork in as well. Once you’re finished, there’s dessert in the freezer.
Hugs and kisses, Marina and Pearl

She took out the plate and unwrapped it, revealing it to be Crab Cake Sliders with a side of fries. And checking inside the freezer, there were Moon Jelly pies waiting for her to eat. Eight smiled widely, like a child, as she marveled the meal before her.

The microwave was a strange invention. She set the dish on a glass plate inside the metal box, and after a moment of pressing buttons in hopes that something would happen, the inside lit up. It hummed like a cat and beeped loudly when finished. Taking out her crab cakes, Eight sat at the island, trying her best to ignore the cold part in the middle. Luckily for her, the moon jelly pies were especially delicious.

After putting her dishes in the dishwasher, she showered and put on her pajamas, readying herself to turn in early. However, something about heading to bed felt wrong; no matter how much her muscles ached for rest, she couldn’t close her eyes and relax. For the past week, Marina and Pearl’s squabbles—their playful yet noisy yelling—served as a lullaby that somehow put her to sleep. Tonight, the apartment sounded of silence, of the Octarian facility.

Looking for something to do, Eight got out her paperwork and began flipping through each page in hopes it would calm her sudden nerves. Each page was filled corner to corner with text; all of it had been translated for her, yet she couldn’t understand the words on the page. Dependent? Social Security? Filing Status?

There was only one person that could help her right now. She opened her sea–cucumber phone and began typing.

Eight
Marina, I need help with something.
What’s a social security number? And what is a dependent?

She bit her lip when she saw three dots appear on the screen and didn’t let out a breath until Marina finally responded.

Marina
Why? What do you need it for?
Please don’t tell me you’re giving this info out

Eight
No.
I’m filling out paperwork for the Squidbeak Splatoon
and I don’t know what these words mean.

Marina
Wait…
Are you an AGENT?

Eight
Yes!

Marina
OH MY COD!
CONGRATULATIONS EIGHT!

Confetti suddenly rained down from the top of the screen, causing Eight to smile.

Marina
I can help you fill out paperwork later
Your social security number is…somewhere
Anyways…turn on the TV to Channel 24!

Eight instantly grabbed the remote and looked down at the buttons. Whenever Pearl wanted to watch her soap operas, she would click the red button at the top and the arrows nearby. Doing exactly that, her face brightened as she watched the channels change. Eventually, when she got to Channel twenty-four, there were Marina and Pearl, exhaustion written all over their faces.

“Check it out,” Pearl yawned. “Here are the current…Regular Battle stages.” Slumped in her chair, she could barely keep her eyes open. “Undertow Spillway and…Museum d’Alfonsino. And the current Ranked Battles—”

“—Pearl,” Marina interrupted, “I think we’ve talked enough about the late night splat arenas.”

She weakly nodded. “Yeah, me, too.”

“Instead, I have a special announcement to make for those of you watching at home.” With a devilish smile and mischievous wink, anyone with eyes could predict what Marina was about to do. “My favorite Octoling, Eight, just got accepted into the Squidbeak Splatoon. Congratulations, dear!”

Eight covered her face to hide her growing embarrassment. “She got in?” She heard Pearl perk up.

“Yes, she did! I knew she would get in!” She turned her attention to the camera. “Eight, if you’re watching this, I’m so proud of you!”

“You’re going to embarrass her!”

“I just wanted to let the world know how cool she is.”

Eight fell asleep on the couch before Marina and Pearl came home, the sound of their distant muttering softly filling the room. And when she awoke, a blanket had been draped over her body and they were in the kitchen making Squid Cakes, as if everything had remained the same.

…

At Tentakeel Outpost, the day was slightly colder, the mountains blowing a cold chill through the canyon, though Eight hardly noticed. Over the sensation of her straining muscles, her beating heart and flushed cheeks made it feel like she was on fire. Today’s training was more intense than yesterday’s; she managed to take down Four and Three in the turf war, but her legs gave out under Four’s weight during the hand-to-hand combat.

At the Outpost, Eight slumped down on one of the couch cushions alongside Three and Four. All of them covered in paint, they finally matched. Earlier, the two had brought them out from the Cuttlefish cabin, Eight staring wide–eyed at the fact such large furniture could fit in such a small home. Nearby, Callie and Marie caught up with one another.

“Eight,” Three asked with a tired gaze, “you’re on the group chat, right?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Which number is yours?”

“I’m the one that ends with seven-two-five, and Four ends with four-nine-two.”

“But…how do I add you to my phone?”

Three instantly moved to sit next to her. Wiping the paint on her pants, she offered a hand out to Eight, to which she passed her the phone. Three took it in her hands and began tinkering with it. “So you click on the phone number with the key-pad and then select the option, ‘create a new contact.’” As she did, a new page appeared and Three typed in her name. “There you go. Do you need help creating Four’s?”

“I think I got it,” Eight smiled with bright teeth. “Thank you for helping.”

“Yeah, totally,” she returned with a timid grin. Eight never noticed it until now–-the golden flecks in Three’s amber eyes. In the afternoon light, they glistened like the starlight Eight had grown so familiar with. “Do you need something?” Three softly asked.

She shook her head. “No. I was just…thinking.”

“Is anyone else hungry?” Four interrupted, getting up.

Both of them turned their heads to glance their way. “I am,” Eight signed.

“Me, too,” Three answered. “Bring the cooler out.”

Getting up, Four walked away to the cabin in search of the cooler, and it didn’t take long before they were dragging it towards the cushion. They opened it and took out the contents inside–food packages wrapped in plastic wrap–and the sight made Eight’s stomach rumble.

“Can you hold this?” Four passed one of the packages to Eight while Three took the other two. Once Four settled themself on a cushion next to Three, they took a package from her and hastily opened it up, only to raise an eyebrow at what they saw.

“What is this, Three?” They glanced at her. “Did you bring this?”

“Yeah, I did. They’re Tentacle Tempura. Eight said we should try it, so I bought it.”

Four hesitantly picked a tentacle up and brought it to their mouth, the entire time Eight holding her breath. As they began to chew, their face changed in ways Eight didn’t understand. The feeling growing inside her was unfamiliar and pervasive, her stomach turning and her palms sweating. Please like it, Eight begged silently, looking on in worry.

Suddenly, Four’s lips curved into a smile. “Eight, these are so good!”

She let out a breath instantly. “I’m so glad to hear that. If you like that, I think you would enjoy Octarian Takoyaki as well. They’re these little dough balls filled with clam or tempura scraps. I can make some if you want to try them.”

“Please do—these are delightful,” they said with a mouthful of food.

“Do you like to cook?” Three asked.

“I do. In the Octarian facility, I would sneak through these hidden passageways so I could cook and bake after hours. I wouldn’t call myself a chef—it was just something I did to pass the time, you know?”

“Kind of.” Three offered her another squid ring, and she took it. “Are you good at making anything in particular?”

“No. Mostly oatmeal, toast, and squid sushi. Like I said, I’m not that good—”

“—Eight, did you bring that paperwork?” Marie interrupted, calling from behind the cushions. The intensity of her voice had her hands trembling to reach her bag. Once she handed her the papers, Eight avoided Marie’s gaze so she wouldn’t notice the cold sweat developing on her face.

“There was one more thing I needed to mention.” Marie flipped through each page, scanning attentively. “All agents in Squidbeak Splatoon are bilingual in Inkling and Octarian, and because you’re only fluent in one language, I’m gonna need you to learn Inkling.”

Eight swallowed dryly. “How am I going to do that?”

“Agent Three and Four have offered to teach you outside of training.”

Eight clenched her jaw in an attempt to hide any hint of surprise while Marie continued.

“You all can work out details on when and where you meet up, but I expect you make progress every week. Every month, I’ll be issuing a test for you to take just to check that progress.” She organized the paperwork in her hand. “But I’m sure you’ll have no issue learning Inkling. It’s very similar to Octarian.”

Eight couldn’t explain why her ears turned red, and why even after seeing Three and Four give her a reassuring smile, her embarrassment only grew.

Chapter Text

Inkopolis Square was more vibrant and alive each time Eight saw it. Despite the snow that piled the ground, inklings roamed around her, some holding shopping bags while others zoomed by on boards with wheels. As she stared at them with curiosity, some returned her gaze with harsh intensity, following her wherever she went.

With it being the weekend, not only was there no training, but it was the first day of her assigned language practice. Last night, she, Three, and Four had agreed to meet in the middle of the square, but looking around now, it would be impossible to find either of them in the crowds of inklings.

Just as she was about to take out her phone, someone from behind called her name. “Eight!” The sound of Three’s voice was hard to miss, confident, loud, and faintly sweet. She wore a sweatshirt under a flannel with dark sweatpants and combat boots. It was slightly odd not seeing her in her uniform, but she looked nice.

Eight walked up to her. “I was worried I wasn’t going to find you.”

“If you were lost, you could’ve called me,” she said.

“You’re right. But where’s Four? Is she lost, too?”

“They couldn’t make it last minute. I thought we should just get started without them, right?”

“Right.”

Not far away, there was an empty white table in front of a shoe store—a perfect location for today’s lesson. Once they finally sat down, Three took out a container from her bag. “When I was first learning Octarian, Marie gave me this stack of flash cards and expected me to be fluent by the week’s end. To be honest, I didn’t really pick it up until I started talking with Marina.”

As she pulled out the flashcards from its container, Eight suddenly became aware of the burning stares from inklings around her. They neared her and Three in small groups, whispering to each other in her peripheral vision, about what she didn’t have to guess. Every couple of moments, the inklings would step closer to get a better look at her like she was an animal on display.

There it was again—that erratic heartbeat and cold sweat. She was a soldier, accustomed to violence and chaos, yet no amount of training could ease her nerves. Their inaudible whispering grew from a faint whisper into enunciated talking, like they were trying to ask her questions she didn’t understand. All she wanted to do was hide.

“Eight,” Three said at once. She glanced up to meet her gaze. “I’ve been saying your name for a while. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she signed with trembling hands, “let’s just start already.”

Someone from the crowd shouted, causing Eight to flinch. Her ears burned at her own shame as she looked down.

“Hey,” Three whispered, the softness of her voice taking her attention away from the gathering crowd. “Ignore them—they won’t harm you. They’re just curious because you’re only one of two Octolings in all of Inkopolis.”

“I know. It’s stupid to be scared, really.” She bit her lip. “I’m just…I’m just not used to this—people looking at me all the time.”

“Eight, that’s not stupid. I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through since coming to Inkopolis…and even before that.” Three hesitated before muttering, “You know, whenever I get anxious, I take a couple deep breaths.”

Three inhaled slowly, gesturing for Eight to do the same. As she did, Eight’s heartbeat slowed to a more normal rhythm. Although she continued to sweat, the feeling wasn’t as overwhelming and her hands didn’t tremble as much. More moments of deep breathing proved that Three was right.

“How do you feel?”

“Good.” Eight gave a quiet smile. “I’m ready to learn.”

With that, Three held up a card—on it was an Inkling saluting. The text underneath was squarish, rigid, and unreadable, forcing Eight to squint while looking at it. This was nothing like Octarian.

“Our first word is hello. The letters here are dwee, oomy, chum, and sploosh.” Slowly, Three signed the letters individually. “If you were to hear it, it would be pronounced like this.” When she said it, her words were pleasing to any ears.

“And the sign for it?”

Three saluted, just like the flashcard image demonstrated, and Eight didn’t hesitate to copy with ease.

“Hello, Eight,” Three said in Inkling, picking up a new card. On the front was a new “My name is Three.”

They continued like this, learning and practicing cards, until noon. As Three shuffled her cards back together, Eight rubbed her eyes to rid them of tension. During their time together, she learned several greetings and the alphabet. She could introduce herself, sign her name in Inkling, and even ask how a person was doing. It wasn’t much, but it was definitely a start.

Three passed her the flashcard contained. “If you want, you can keep these for practice.”

“Thanks.” She put them in her bag before continuing. “Do you have any plans after this?”

“No, I was thinking of going home and doing laundry. Why?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch before you go.”

Three’s eyes widened slightly. “Sure, we can do that.”

“Great!”

Standing in front of the food truck was like looking a giant in the eye. The oily smell of the food and the rustling sound of shrimp being fried was comforting, but it was the small radio playing Calamari Inkantation that brought her back to that night.

Eight stood on the balls of her feet, peering inside to see if anyone was there, only to be shaken by the sudden appearance of the crusty shrimp. His small beady eyes widened the instant he recognized her. He was joyful as he talked excitedly, motioning to all kinds of things, however Eight couldn't understand.

But Three did. “He says he’s glad to see you alive and well with a friend,” she translated, “and that the other day, he saw that Marina and Pearl mentioned you on the broadcast. What does he mean?”

“The night I came to Inkopolis, he fed me and gave me a blanket to keep warm from the snow. And when I woke up, he defended me from half of Inkopolis and brought me to you. I can't thank him enough.”

“You want me to tell him that?”

“No, I think…I want to say something myself.” Just as Three raised an eyebrow, she turned to him. “Hello,” she signed in shaky Inkling, “my name…is Eight. What…what is your name?”

Smiling, he said, “Hello, Eight. My name is Crusty Sean. How are you?”

After all this time, he finally had a name—Crusty Sean. “I’m good,” she signed. “Very good.” That was all she could understand and say, but content shined her face anyways, causing her cheeks to ache.

“How did I do?” She said to Three. “Did I sound natural?”

“You were so natural,” Three grinned just as much as she did. Then, she took out her wallet along with two golden tickets from inside.

Eight raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

“Paying for your meal,” she said, showing no hesitation when giving Crusty Sean the tickets. “Do you want anything in particular?”

“Uhm…the Crab–Trap Sandwich.”

“Cool.” By the way she turned back to Crusty Sean and started talking to him, it signified to Eight that their order was being processed. But why did she do it? It wasn’t like Marina hadn’t given her money for the day.

As they stood there near the truck, waiting for their order to be ready, Eight itched with an answer to her question. “Why did you do that?” She signed.

“Do what?” Three asked.

“Pay for my food? I have money.”

“It was my treat.” Upon Eight’s further visual confusion, Three continued. “It’s what friends do for each other.”

“We’re friends?”

“Of course we’re friends. We see each other all the time.”

Eight beamed at her. “I’ve never had a friend before.”

“Congrats,” Three rolled her eyes playfully, “I’m your first.”

***

The days they patrolled around the border were always the longest, starting from the early morning hours and continuing into the night. Marie led the patrol like a strict general but held the attention of none—Four was too busy bothering Three to notice anything else. The gravel crunched underneath Eight’s boots with each step she took, the path ahead allowing her a view of the canyon below.

Eight thought she had seen all of Inkopolis when she had walked out of the train station, but each day it seemed as though she was proven wrong. Unlike the town square, the canyon’s great mountains and ridges formed skyscrapers with their swooping curves and dramatic edges. Down below was a thin stream that snaked its way past each rock.

Beyond the hills, the light of the setting sun took her breath away. The sun’s rays draped over the mountains like a fine silk in brilliant oranges and golds. While her teammates continued walking, fading out of her vision, all she could do was stare. It stung looking directly into the sun but it was brilliant.

Eight was still becoming accustomed to the sun’s radiance, but back at the facility, she could stare directly at the sun and never be blinded by the light.

She remembered the moment like it was yesterday; a late night at the facility, Eight had just pushed her way out of a passageway, trying to best not to make a sound as she leaned the panel against the wall. She slid past a hallway corner and made her way to the kitchen, only to see someone already there. It was her friend, Seven—with her tentacles in a familiar top-knot, she was spooning meager amounts of dough into two cups.

Raised in the same unit, they had been friends since Eight’s first memory and they never spent a moment apart. On hard nights like these, going to the kitchen and seeing her there never failed to bring a smile to her face.

Eight tapped the table gently, alerting her friend instantly. “Hey,” she signed.

“Hi,” Seven signed back. “I’m almost done with our treats. Are you ready to try this?”

“Yeah, I am.”

While she placed their cups in the microwave, Eight leaned against the table across from Seven so when she joined her, their shoulders would inevitably bump together. True to her expectation, that was exactly what happened.

“What did you make tonight?” Eight tilted her head.

“I wanted to try something new. It’s the same muffins we always make, but the oven is…too noisy, so I decided to put it in the microwave. Also, there wasn’t enough sugar for my recipe.”

“I think they will taste great anyway.”

Even in its dim light, Seven’s awkward grin warmed her heart. Her yellow eyes were as brilliant as the soft glow of the sunrise, although Eight could only imagine what that looked like at the time. Everything about her, from the way she slouched over to the way her lips moved gracelessly when she smiled, shined gently in the dark world of the facility.

The buzz of the microwave muddled with a sudden loud voice shouting in the distance. It jolted Eight awake, only for her to realize Three and Four were calling her name.

“Eight, are you okay?!” Four shouted from atop a small hill nearby.

The sun had long faded, leaving behind an array of lavender colors in its wake, but it all blurred from the tears in Eight’s eyes. She quickly wiped her face before turning around.

“Yes, I was just thinking,” she signed.

“Well, come on! We’re about to move out. Don’t want to leave you behind.”

Eight snorted at her tone. The walk to them was short, moving in and out of dips and curves of the rocks. However, the small hill Three and Four stood on proved rather difficult to scale. She made it half–way up with ease, but as Eight stretched to grab onto one of the jutting edges, her foot slipped.

A pained noise escaped her while her foot dangled in mid–air. There was no other place for her to place her foot, to prevent herself from falling.

“Eight,” Three said. She glanced up, met with her pale hand. “Grab on.”

Reaching up, Eight took her hand and was pulled up swiftly. She fell ungracefully on the dirt, scraping her knees, but she smiled with the new breath she took. Still holding her hand, Three pulled her to her feet.

“What was taking you so long?” She asked, her eyes scanning her face. “We were starting to get worried about you…even Marie was.” Her hands were warm and slightly damp; Eight purred quietly at her awkwardness.

“You guys are always worried about me.” She shifted her gaze to meet Three’s eyes. “The sunset just reminded me of an old friend…which kind of sounds silly now that I am saying it out loud.”

Three squeezed her hand. “I don’t think it's silly. I think it would be sweet if someone said that about me.”

Eight shifted her gaze downwards to hide her ever warming face. For someone as soft spoken as Three, she had such a way with words. There was no poetic beauty or complexity about what she said, all that it was was kind.

Suddenly, a voice shouted from nearby. “Let’s go, you two! We don’t have all day.” The intensity of Marie’s voice made them both drop their hands.

When Eight glanced back at Three, there was an apparent blush that creeped from the tip of their ears to their cheeks. “We better get going,” she said nervously. “Why…why don’t you tell me more about her, Seven?”

“I would love to.”

***

The start of the new week meant the start of another Inkling lesson, this time with both of the agents. Being the first to arrive at the square, Eight didn’t have to wait long before Three and Four appeared from the subway. While Three and Eight were dressed for the weather in thick winter coats, Four tried to hide their shivering in their simple tracksuit.

“Now that we’re all here, are you ready to get started?” Three said. An icy gust blew through the agents, sending a visible chill in each of them. Eight buried her face deep into her puffer jacket as the sting from the cold was too much to bear.

“Three,” Four gritted through their teeth, “I don’t know if you can tell, but it’s snowing outside.”

“Well, obviously,” she rolled her eyes. “When I checked my phone, the weather said it would be slightly warmer today.”

“Can w–we take this lesson somewhere else? I don’t want to lose my fingers today.”

“Uh…let me check.” When Three pulled out her phone, Four did the same.

Anyone with eyes could have seen there was a blizzard. If Marina and Pearl hadn’t taken the morning shift, they wouldn’t have let her leave the house. But Three and Four’s bickering on the group chat convinced her out of her warm apartment and into near–zero temperatures. None of the shops had their lights on, including Crusty Sean, who operated throughout odd hours.

“Nothing is open,” Four finally confirmed. “Nothing, I mean nothing. No restaurants, cafes, or libraries.”

“Could we s–study at your house?”

“No…there’s just a lot of things going on right now with my younger siblings and my mom. It would be too chaotic.”

Three’s face grew increasingly worried. “Eight, what about you?”

“Let me ask Marina.”

Fortunately, she didn’t wait long for a response.

She quickly typed on her phone and it didn’t take long before she got a response. Sorry, Eight, but no. We just don’t want Three and Four’s rowdiness in our house. Especially since we work with them. I hope you can understand.

Eight frowned, and based on the way she did, Three and Four assumed the worst. “We can’t go to my house. Marina is…worried about the expensive materials at home.” She left out the details to spare their feelings, only for Four to groan.

“So we can’t go to Eight’s house. Why can’t we go to yours, Three?” Four asked.

“Because we can’t,” she replied dryly.

“Are you hiding something?” Four leaned forwards. “Like a body?”

“What? No, that’s insane. My house is cramped and messy. I don’t want you to see it, that’s all.”

“Come on, Three. I’m freezing out here,” Four urged. “I’m sure whatever condition your house is in is not that bad. I live with three toddlers. I’ve seen it all.”

“But it’s different.” Her eyes were clouded with worry. “I don’t have toddlers that I can blame the mess on. It’s just me.”

“We don’t care. There’s no other place to go. Unless you wanted to take the metro to Tentakeel Outpost and freeze in sub–zero temperatures.”

“Whatever your house looks like, Three,” Eight gestured rigidly, “we would be grateful to be your guests. And to escape from the cold.”

She shook terribly as a cold breeze passed through her once more, despite the layers she wore. How could Inklings stand the winters? It was a time like this where she would have preferred the damp underground air to bitter winds.

It was after a painstaking amount of moments did Three finally sigh. “Fine,” she groaned, “we can go to my house. Just know that I warned you.”

Even in the chill, Eight could tell Three was starting to sweat at the decision. Her eyebrows were scrunched and her face was getting redder than it already was. Maybe she was just nervous about a little disorganization—that was understandable. At the facility, many of the octolings were embarrassed to have more than one personal object out for fear of “clutter.” But, she always thought, there were worse things.

…

There were a lot better things, too. The metro ride to Three’s apartment gave Eight an odd sense of nostalgia from the time she rode with Iso Padre. However, this time, she noticed the people were more standoffish, muttering to themselves and twitching slightly. And when they would happen to look Eight in the eyes, she would avert her gaze and lean into Three. She didn’t really mind.

When they got to her apartment and Three finally unlocked her front door, Eight finally understood why she was so nervous in the first place. The space was cramped like she said, with a stairwell above the kitchenette and the living room had no breathing room. But that wasn’t the problem at all.

There was “clutter” everywhere. Upon first glance, there were papers and clothes scattered all across the hardwood floors. In the kitchenette sink, pots and pans piled up while plates stayed stacked on the counter. And in an attempt to help with the disorganization were shelves behind the couch, there wasn’t enough space for anything else besides filing cabinets.

Hives bloomed on Three’s neck as Four and Eight stared with wide eyes. “I’ve been overwhelmed with work recently. When…when I come home after a long day, I’m too tired to do anything…and—”

“—I didn’t think it was this bad.” Four’s words were harsh, but the way they looked at Three communicated something unspoken–relentless worry.

“I know what it looks like,” Three quipped. “It’s…just hard to maintain everything when you live alone.”

“I get that, but Three…this is…this is just a mess.”

“That’s what I meant when I said we couldn’t study here.”

“Maybe we can’t study here, but we help clean your apartment instead.” They quickly glanced to Eight, who nodded in agreement. “Maybe if we have time, we can review for a bit.

“And if we never get to studying, we can always do it some other time.” Eight was gentle with her movements. “Nobody deserves to live like this.”

All at once, Three made an odd face, one that Eight had only seen once or twice in her life. As her eyes creased, her eyelids hid her watering eyes while a pained noise escaped her throat.

“I can’t allow you guys to do that,” she choked out.

The very few times Eight had seen an Octoling cry was the night before Seven was moved to a different station. She sobbed beside Eight, begging for them to run away together, but she did nothing to comfort her. She didn’t know how.

And she still stood there awkwardly, watching as Three struggled to hold herself together.

But Four was always more natural when it came to things like this. They put a hand on her shoulder and said, “Where are your trash bags and wipes? The cleaning crew has arrived.”

“Please, Four,” she muttered, “now is not the time for jokes.”

“Oh, please, there’s always time for jokes. Now let’s get started, yeah?”

Because of the size of the apartment, there was only so much area to clean. With Three cleaning the upstairs loft and Four designated to the kitchenette, that left Eight with the living room. Despite having to deal with the shelving unit and sort through endless papers on the ground, the large window offered an expansive view of Inkopolis below.

The one odd thing that Eight noted was the lack of furniture Three had. It was only the basics, a sofa, a rug, a microwave for the kitchen, and a lamp for the living room, but nothing else. Eight thought it normal for someone to own no electronics, but it struck her as odd that there were no family photos lying about the mess. The only semblance Three had to a family picture was of Three as a child, with short hair and a few missing teeth, but no parents.

Eight shook it off. She should not have been rummaging through her personal things anyways.

As Eight began to sweep up the dust that had collected on the floor, Three finally came down from the loft with sheets and a trash bag in hand.

Four looked up from cleaning Three’s fridge. “Three, come here,” they said, gesturing to her with one hand. They spoke softly, their voice barely above a whisper but enough to get Three’s attention. Curious, Eight moved closer to them silently to listen in on what they were saying.

“There’s no food in here,” Four muttered, eyebrows creased in worry. “Do you need help getting groceries? I might have snacks at home that I can give you—”

“—I’m fine,” Three said. Her voice had an unknown grit to it. “Once this blizzard blows over, I’m planning to get groceries.”

“That’s good. And you’re good with personal care products? Shampoo? Conditioner? Deodorant?”

“Yes,” Three nodded. “There’s no need to worry about me, Four.”

“I know, I know. I just can’t help it.” Four stood up. “But what about your prescription? Did you get that updated?”

Curiosity got the best of her. Eight stepped closer to the two of them, causing them to turn their heads. “Prescription for what?” She asked. It was an honest question, but for an unknown reason, Four’s ears began to burn red with every second they were under Three’s glare.

“It’s for…Three’s daily dose of feminine fabulousness,” Four chuckled nervously.

“What? I don’t understand.”

“What I meant to say was—”

“Four,” Three interrupted, glaring daggers at them. “Eight, I’m healthy. The prescription is for…my eyes. I have trouble reading in the dark.”

Then why was Three looking at her like that—like she did something wrong? Eight let her hands fall to her sides. If she pressed further, then Four was sure to say something that would add more fuel to the fire. But now that she was letting it go, the air was thick with a tension Eight could not name.

“We should probably get back to cleaning,” Four murmured, their eyes shifting between the two of them.

“Yeah, I guess we should,” Three said, passing by them without another word.

The rest of the apartment was cleaned out within thirty minutes, the aftermath a pile of dirty laundry and a couple of trashbags. The experience was intimate, like getting to know a friend without having to say a word, as Eight sorted through Three’s most important possessions. A DJ Sango album, the photo of her when she was young, and her favorite books were sorted away into the now cleaned–out shelving unit. And despite the emptiness, the lack of clutter was like a weight that had been lifted—not only off Eight’s shoulders—but Three’s most importantly.

Three’s eyes shimmered with a new light, but before she could say anything, Four’s phone ran. Taking the call, it ended with a nod and a somber look.

“Listen, guys,” they started, “my family is worried about the blizzard. They want me to come home before it gets worse.”

“That’s fine,” Eight signed. “I think Three and I have everything handled here.”

“But do you need help getting home?” Three said.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Three replied. “Just text me when you get home, alright?”

“I will.” To Three’s surprise, they approached her and wrapped their arms around her. Eight could see Three’s heart softening just by looking at her face. “I worry about you, Three.”

“I worry about you, too, squiddo,” Three said in return.

“I told you not to call me that,” they mumbled.

“I know.”

Four had a way of melting away any lingering discomfort with just a squeeze of their embrace. They gave one more squeeze—causing Three to rasp softly—right before letting go and making their way out the door.

It was hard not to think in awkward silence. What did Three’s family have to think about this mess? Due to interesting circumstances, Eight did not have a biological family, but if Marina and Pearl knew she was living in such a state, they would throw a fit. And being years younger than Three and her, it was reasonable that Four was still so dependent on their family.

But not once had Three’s parents called, not during the clean–up nor any other time. Eight wanted to believe that they were possibly busy, but something about this conclusion didn’t sit right with her.

“What are you thinking about?” Three said, pulling her back to reality. Her eyes bloodshot with exhaustion, Eight almost didn’t want to answer, but did anyway.

“I was thinking about the clothes,” Eight signed. “What are we going to do about the piles?”

“I was going to take them down to the laundromat downstairs. You can go home if you want.”

“I don’t want to though,” Eight gestured. “I want to help you, if you’ll let me.”

Three made a facial expression that made Eight’s stomach turn. “Okay,” she said, “I’ll get the hamper,” but the tone of her voice was more than lackluster.

Three got up to put the piles into a small hamper—Eight did her best to help but her enthusiasm led to some clothes falling on the floor. She picked them up anyways, despite Three’s intense glare, and followed her down to the apartment laundromat.

When they arrived at the basement, the fluorescent light flickered overhead and it smelled like mold, but Three moved forwards with ease. She set down the hamper and began loading the clothes into one of the machines. Wrinkling her nose at the less–than–pleasant environment, Eight helped prepare the laundry anyways. When Three finally turned it on, the machine shook and rumbled like an old vehicle.

They stood together, shoulder to shoulder, watching as the dirty laundry turned in the washer. However, it was after a minute that Eight noticed Three was shivering.

She turned to look at her. “Are you cold?”

“No.” Three shook her head, but her hands were covering the goosebumps that were developing on her arm. What a liar, Eight thought as she began to unzip her jacket.

Once Three noticed, she took a step away from her. “I can’t let you do that,” she started. “You’re going to freeze…and you’ll need your jacket when you take the train home—”

Eight pressing her finger to Three’s lips to get her to stop talking, her lips dry and cracked ever so slightly. When Three was silent, Eight took off her jacket and threw it around the inkling’s shoulders. Just for one moment, she needed Three to think about her own well–being instead of the well–being of others.

“It’s a blizzard,” Eight signed. “I don’t need you freezing on me.”

She still had her hands on the edge of the jacket, ready to wrap it around Three and smother her with warmth. But Three didn’t embrace her gesture of friendliness like Eight thought she would, far from it actually. Maneuvering out of the jacket, out of her grasp, Eight was returned with a slight shove and an infuriated glare.

“Take your jacket back—I don’t want it,” Three spat. “I don’t need you freezing in my apartment complex.”

“Three, are you okay? I was just trying to help you.”

“I don’t need help. I’m not a child.”

“What? I’m not saying that you are.” She took a breath in an attempt to calm her trembling hands. “What I’ve learned since coming to Inkopolis is that…people do things to show how much they care for each other. Sometimes, it's as simple as doing each other's laundry. I gave you my jacket because I want you to be warm. Do you understand?”

“I do,” Three said, the machine rumbling loudly in the background.

“Then…why did you have such a reaction?”

“It’s like I said—I don’t need your help. Not your jacket, not your…your pep–talk. I can handle things on my own.”

“But it’s here if you need it.” Eight’s cheeks flushed with an uncomfortable mix of humiliation and anger. “That’s what I’m trying to explain to you.”

“Well then, stop trying to explain it,” Three said, her voice having more force than usual. “Because of…of your help, I feel like I’m on a watchlist. Four is never going to leave me alone after seeing the state of my apartment…and look at you. Following me around like I can’t do anything myself.”

“What is wrong with you?”

“What is wrong with me?”

“Four has always cared about you. Even after today, that is never going to change.” Eight’s eyesight grew irritated and blurry. “And I don’t understand why you’re being so cruel.”

“I’m not being cruel—I’m being realistic,” she shot back. “I don’t know about you, but if your friends saw how disgusting your apartment was and went through all your stuff, you would be embarrassed, wouldn’t you?”

Eight sucked in a breath. “Three, we aren’t embarrassed of you. We were just trying to help—”

“Stop saying that!” Three finally yelled. Eight flinched at the intensity of her voice. “My parents kicked me out when I was fourteen and for three years I’ve been living alone. I trusted that they wouldn’t…wouldn’t be disgusted with me, but they lied. How can I trust that you’re any different when I’ve been wronged by the people closest to me?”

Eight shook her head in disbelief. In a time when she most needed to respond, words failed her. So many questions swirled in her mind, each one more tangled than the last.

“Three—”

“Save it,” she responded coldly.

“No, I will not,” Eight signed back, grabbing Three’s arm. “We need to talk about this!”

But she pulled away from her grasp. “No, we do not. I don’t want to hear your explanations or apologies. I just…I think it's time you go home.”

“What? Three, I’m not leaving you. You can’t make me go anywhere.”

“Did you not hear what I just said? I said leave!”

It was at this moment Eight took a step back. Anger pumped in her veins like adrenaline and her eyes burned with frustration. “I don’t know why you’re acting so hostile today. Never, and I mean never, have I…or Four…given you the inclination that we’ve hated you for any reason.” She tried her best to hold back a choke. “And Three…I promise you when I say this, I only wanted to help because…I like being your friend.”

She took a step back. “You can keep the jacket. I’ll see you on patrol tomorrow.”

When Eight turned around and started walking away, she felt like the ground was falling beneath her. The wave of sadness and guilt that had been clawing at her insides could no longer be contained. When she reached the door, Eight had to wipe the tears that fell from her face.