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“I’m not going”. A low voice echoed from underneath a table. The metal edge of a box clanged on the tile floor.
Another voice responded, tinny and harsh through the speaker, “What? Why? You’re not flaking out on me are you? I thought you got better with that”.
The sound was grating, especially as the purple inkling held the phone between his ear and shoulder. “Sorry. It’s as much of a surprise to me as well. It’s my parents”. The rustle of a tote bag crackled underneath his hands. After standing up, he continued hearing the static of background noise in the phone call. “Warb?”
“Are they okay?” The tone was plain.
“Yeah. They called me earlier and they would want to see me. I hope you understand."
A sigh breathed out on the other end of the receiver, “Yeah, that’s fine. Are you sure you can manage with the change in plans? You never told me much about them, so uh, when would you be going? And how long?”
“My parent’s house is north so that could intersect with the interstate freeway you usually take. I’m thinking we can meet up and go to the photoshoot after.”
“U-u-u-uh and where does the parent thing fit into that?”
“After we meet. The visit would be short."
“Damn, uhh. Sure sure. Text me where you wanna meet up. Bye.” He hangs up.
Ikkan stuffs the phone in his pocket. Sighing as he pours the contents of the key tray into another pocket. Before leaving he takes one last look in the mirror. Then picks up a tie to pull back his hair into a bun. With tote bags underneath his arm he walks out of his apartment door.
The air throughout the hallways was stuck with the smell of cigarettes. It didn’t solely derive from his own habit but this time it was coming from a neighbor.
A gray claw raises up, “Ao-o-o-oh, goo’ morning”. Small puffs of smoke surround a king crab. The other claw has bumps worn down from the amount of times it has gripped onto the handle of a cane.
“Morning.” Ikkan raises a hand and looks at the many slippers hanging off the vestigial legs of his older neighbor. He gets a key for unlocking the garage, but before entering he was called again.
“Dho Ikkan woul’ you like some jackfruit? My wife got two large one an’ too much is in the fridge an’ freezer” He was raising his large claw around as he explained.
“Um. When I come home. Thank you”. He unlocked the garage door.
The corners of the wooden garage were housing a family of spiders. Watching over as Ikkan shuffled his way to the side of the old car. Squeezing himself in even more through the partially opened door. After igniting the engine he tapped at the CD player to bring it to life. A song starts from the middle. After adjusting the volume he shifts gears and starts driving.
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A black car stops at a far corner of an underground parking lot. In a corner that isolates it from other vehicles that flock towards entrance ways. Getting out from the passenger side is Warabi being dropped off. After closing the door the car drives off. He walks to the automatic doorway of a market with hands that stay inside the pockets of his yellow jacket that was lined with black fake fur on the hood.
Walked without even stopping to look at the green produce that was at front, his attention remained still, only eyeing the aisles straight ahead than any shelves or signs. He stops at the section of heated or cold shelves of boxed food items ready to eat. Once here, he started really looking around now. Nothing he was searching for was here. He takes his hands out of his pockets and walks around to the back to circle back around the area of the market.
He stops his foot with a slight squeak of his shoe, taking one step back. Located in the section dried products was the thing he was looking for. Ikkan in acid washed jeans and a hair bun. He took three packages of dried seaweed to put into a basket.
Warabi bared his claws and reached to grab at his neck to act out strangling him. Ikkan didn’t budge at all as his stance stayed upward.
“What are you bringing all this for?” Warabi asks.
Walking slowly to the end of the aisle Ikkan answered, “I want to make something for my mom when I drop these off."
“I haven’t seen you this motivated in cooking since you got mad that I got you subscription recipe meals."
“And now you’ve learned I hate surprises like that."
They started walking down the aisle and Warabi stopped to grab sea salt macadamia nut cookies. Loud crinkling is heard as he’s opening it.
Ikkan turned around to see him crunching, “You can’t wait three minutes?”
“No one’s going to get mad if we’re going to the cashier now."
After paying and bagging everything at the register they walked out the doors, air conditioning blasting cold air over their heads. Once in the parking lot Ikkan unlocked the trunk and opened an old cooler. Taking out from the tote bag; one bag of dried seaweed, clams, bagged ice, a large water bottle and a food storage box. He put the seaweed in the container then poured water.
“What are you doing?”
“Rehydrating." The container closed with a snap and it was put into the cooler along with the bag of ice.
“In the car?” Warabi poked at the bag of clams which closed their shells tighter.
“It takes a while. So I'll do it now."
He finishes arranging everything in the trunk. After getting into the car the CD player whirred a noise of a skipping track, Ikkan knocked on it to remedy.
“Ugh you need a new player, a new car, maybe a new shirt because the graphics on that are so-o-o washed out.l
“I’ll die before this car goes.l
Out on the road, the sun shined through at an angle that hit at their faces. A car turns in front of them without a signal. Ikkan growls in his throat. The honking of low flying goose heading south can be noisily heard above. The last track of a CD finishes.
Warabi fiddles with a piercing by placing his claws in between a loop. “Any house rules I need to know when we get to your parent’s place? You can share with me the risks I’d face."
“I thought you would want to stay in the car."
“I’d get bored out of my mind in here. Why? Are they going to say something about me?”
“No. They know you exist."
Warabi stops his fingers for a moment, then continues, “They’re not gonna pinch my cheeks and make me eat a lot would they? I don’t hang out with a lot of old people."
“My mom talks a lot so you could uh stay in the kitchen to watch the soup boil to act busy."
“Wow. Wanting me to hide away in the kitchen, huh?”
“No… I didn’t know if you cared about seeing them."
“Si-i-i-g-g-h, I just feel weird thinking about how I kind of know more about you than I’ve shared about me. Do you ever think about that?”
“I don’t question it."
“Are you sure? You can’t be so indifferent about that."
“Why not? If I don’t know about your parents why should I ask anything about it."
Warabi folded his arms. His brow furrowed a little as if he was focused on something that was on the road. Except he wasn’t looking there, just a thought in mind. “It’s not just about that. Well, maybe a tiny part could relate. Ugh, nevermind this is going nowhere."
“Okay…”
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After driving around the neighborhood they finally found street parking. By now the sun has risen to its peak. When leaving the car the hot air greeted them. It took twenty minutes of walking to get to the destination of the condominium. The warm indoor lighting through the front door and patterned gray flooring gave off a stale feeling. Through the elevator they reach the fourth floor. The door bell button was pressed, and the two visitors stood for a moment.
Locks were undone and the door opened with a creak. An old man greets them, “Ikkan, welcome. Who is your friend? Is this the red one?” He wore a plain suit in shades of gray. Whatever hair was left on his head was low on the sides, a maroon goatee seemed thicker of hair mass with two strands that swooped low to the chin and textured with small barbs at the tip.
The octoling immediately swooped in to shake hands, “Warabi Takoyama, Mr. Do”. Standing straight, but still giving his signature smile. In his mind he thought, “Cod, is this what Ikkan is going to age into…”
“Ooh come in. What did you bring, Ikkan?”
After kicking off his shoes and leaving it behind him the inkling took the tote bags to the kitchen and pulled out a container. The seaweed had rehydrated into being quadruple the size it once was. “I want to make soup for Hanchi”. He placed out all the ingredients on the counter.
Warabi watched at the doorway, taking in the unimpressive sights. Little ceramic sculptures of animals, reprinted watercolors hanging on the wall, a picture frame of two young inklings who seemed familiar. Then there’s the smells; a small dish with the spent ashes of incense, an active humidifier, and slug slime. Warabi noticed a poke at his heel. He turned but immediately had to look downward as he was met with an indigo squid on a mobility aid. It looked similar to a knee walker in function but completely adjusted for the seating of squidform use.
“Hello-o-o”, the greeting caught the attention of Ikkan who put down the opened can of broth to go towards the voice.
“Hi”, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a folded check, “For the medicine."
“Oh Hanchi, it’s so nice to see you”. She taps at his arm gently with a tentacle.
“How’s your arms pain?”
“The doctors want to do more tests and that will be next month. The new subscription is much less hard on me thankfully”. Her eyes turn to Warabi who quietly has been watching the scene. “Is this that man you play with?”
“Yes. I work with him.”
“Let him sit. Sit down”, she moved towards the table when Warabi gave a look at Ikkan that read “what have you ended up taking me to” though all Ikkan’s face read was blankness.
Once seated, Warabi saw him go back into the kitchen to do who-knows-what. Mr. Do takes his leave as well when seated by an old desktop computer, stating he needs to go back to his work. Mrs. Do touches the tip of Warabi’s hair which flinched in surprise.
“Very beautiful!”, she comments.
Warabi tries to not make an issue with the action, as he’s a guest after all. “Um. Thank you." Giving a polite half grin. “Please don’t ask any weird questions”, he thinks.
“How do you do many colors?”
Now he’s gotten himself trapped into conversation, “Well, I use an oil based hair dye that keeps the color on the surface over the chromatophores so it can be layered. It’s great for multicolor, but sometimes it can be rubbed off on smaller sections.”
The old squid nods, “I see, I see. Hanchi uses that, too. As he has some yellow like yours.l
Warabi chuckles awkwardly, “Heh, yeah”. He ponders on another topic to switch to “I noticed you both call each other ‘Hanchi’, what’s the story with that?”
“Oohh I started calling Ikkan that name since he was very small. Then he began calling me Hanchi back when he finally started speaking. Do your parents have a different name to call you?”
“No”, Warabi responded immediately, almost defensively. “No, I don’t have anything like that."
“Do you have any siblings?”
“It’s only me."
“Aw I just have my Ikkan, too. He spent so long in his egg it was like he was never going to see me. He was always a strange boy. But when he met little Ichi he became a different person, but in a good way. Sometimes...”
“Mom–”, Ikkan peeked his head over.
“Yes?”
“...Food would be ready soon. Honghap miyeokguk."
“A, thank you."
Turning back to Warabi, Mrs. Do thinks, “Oh, what was I saying?”
Warabi rolls his eyes, boredly answering, “Something about egg Ikkan."
“Oh! After I laid him my husband made so-o-o much seaweed soup for me, but he never cooks so the taste was very off-putting. When he gone to sleep I got up because I needed to fix his mistakes.”
Mr. Do added to that story, “Hana, you being able to stand up was because of the soup so it worked.”
“It’s nice Ikkan became a better cook than you.”
“He should have become a chef rather than a rock star then if he still isn’t married”.
“Xander, do you still worry about that? Ikkan tells us what’s important when it happens”. She turns to Warabi, “I’m sorry about him, I’m sure you make very good music with my son.”
Warabi almost couldn’t focus on what to think. “Yeah, we’re actually going to a photoshoot after this. It will be for a high end magazine.”
A reply couldn’t be sought as Ikkan finally makes his appearance again, holding a steaming bowl to bring to the table. Pieces of green sat in broth, with pieces of chopped clam throughout it. Sesame seeds and scallions were added on top. Admittedly, Warabi eyed it as though he wanted to try it as well.
A hand was placed behind Mrs. Do’s seat, “I have to go now. Me and Warabi have something to do.”
“Ohh so soon? Thank you, Hanchi”, she turns, “And thank you for coming.” The old tentacle pats at Warabi’s arm which he lightly shook back.
The two young men make their way out as they finally get back to the schedule they had originally planned before today’s changes. Despite the warm outdoor weather, Warabi kept the jacket on. His fists stayed inside the pockets. He chewed his tongue. Every time they stood still, whether at the elevator or at a corner to cross the street, Warabi looked at Ikkan’s face. A plain expression was worn, sometimes though he was rubbing at the back of his neck. Or switch what hands he held the empty tote bags in.
When they got to the car they were met with an intense heat emanating from it. At that point Warabi took off his jacket and put it on the floor before getting to the seat. Ikkan started the car to roll down all the windows and started driving to get some fresh air in. Ikkan tugs at his hair tie to remove, letting the wind flow through it just a little.
Warabi groans.
Ikkan replies, “I’ll put the A/C in a bit.”
“I’m just thinking about your parents.”
“Oh. I’m sorry about them. I don’t need to visit that often so it’s not going to be a recurring thing happening.”
“No no no. They’re fine. It was.. nice, being talked to. I learned all kinds of new things about you.”
A bit of pink showed through Ikkan’s cheeks from that response. “Sorry if they overshared. Or about how I don’t share much about you to them.”
“Hey, it’s still miles more than what my parents would ever know.”
A silence gave pause to the conversation. Nothing said back. The windows get rolled up before a button is pressed to give off meager air conditioning. The car was now quieter.
“Hey, Ick”, Warabi starts.
“Yeah.”
“Would you like to have me overshare something?”
“If you like.”
“It’s more that I want and need to. So, uh”. His chest felt heavy and his head tentacles curled in. “I don’t see my parents. At all. I’m not close with them. So being at your parents place and being spoken to that much felt like something I’ve never had the chance to experience ever again”. The space in the car felt so small and enclosed. “If you want to know who they are, think of the lead stars in Twin City Sucker and The Code Watcher. They’re those octos featured in those movies.”
Warabi takes a few big breaths before he continues talking. “I talk big, but I don’t talk about myself all that much. I feel like I keep myself distant with you sometimes. I enjoy having you not know things. But also, I can’t stand the idea of you knowing.” He furrowed his brow, trying to muster everything he could to not cry. “I don’t know what you’d think of me as a person if you did learn.”
Ikkan waits a moment before he makes his reply, “I don’t know those movies.”
Suddenly Warabi bursted into tears.
The car stalled at a red light from the loss of focus, “I’m sorry! I just torrent movies than go to theaters.”
Loud sniffles cut in between breaths, Warabi kept his head turned away to not be seen. “I’m not crying cuz of that, stupid. I want to know what you think about the other thing…”
The grip on the steering wheel tightened, “I’m not the kind of person who would just bail over something that we can just talk it through. After everything we do. If it’s something very personal to you, I feel bad that I can’t be confided with. Being with me shouldn’t let you feel like you can’t be yourself.”
The loud sniffles can still be heard. Ikkan makes a turn towards a parking lot corner spot, halting their drive.
“What are you doing?”
“I want to stop for a minute.” He gets his hands off the wheel and key. Turning his body towards Warabi with his hands offered.
“...What…”, Warabi looks at him, eyes red and watery, “What do you want…?”
“You can hug me.”
“What?! Y-You’re stupid. Stopping for that? We could be at the photo studio by now.” His voice was half-strained as he talked. “You’re embarrassing me.”
Ikkan lowered his hands a little, “Um, do you feel okay yet, though.”
The chance of a hug wasn’t going to slip away as Warabi took up the offer in a swoop. Awkwardly leaning in as close as possible to dig his head against the other’s. His fingers held tight on the body. Feeling him breathe, and the beating of his hearts. The octoling’s head tentacles felt around Ikkan’s entire head to hug as well.
Three syllables were grumbled underneath Warabi’s strained voice.
“Hm?” Ikkan notices.
“I brr rrerr…”
“Stop talking onto my shoulder.”
Warabi shifts his face to put his mouth at Ikkan’s ear. Whispering the three syllable sentence one more time. The pointy ear twitches in response. Slowly, Ikkan pries himself off and reaches for a box of cigarettes at the glove compartment. Taking one and then offering another to the octoling. He takes it.
Ikkan gets his lighter to put onto his cig first. Then handed over the lighter, but Warabi instead grabs the back of his neck to pull him closer. Forcing the cigarette on his lips to touch the lit one. Making a few puffs until he gets it ignited. Warabi leans back in his seat and rolls the window down to blow out the smoke.
“That’s one thing off my chest. Want to hear another? Under one condition though.”
“Yeah?”
“Promise to make me that soup you’ve made for dinner later.”