Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

All Freya can hear is the sound of the sea and the rhythmic thwup thwup thwup of a helicopter. There’s some faint ringing in her ears - what did she do to her body?

The agent’s eyelids are heavy. The bare tips of her fingers ache with an unfamiliar feeling. Her body hurts, and there’s a dull stinging sensation making itself at home in her face. The pain blossoms from across her cheek to her right ear, some of the tingling feeling settling into her right tentacle.

It sucks.

Oh, she can hear a little clearer. The pain makes her right ear feel like it’s underwater, but she’s straining to hear more. She has to, as an agent of the NSS.

Excited voices are around her. There’s the warbly voice of the captain. A wave of steady relief flows through Freya, knowing her captain is safe. She hears others, too; ecstatic garbled voices speaking in Octarian, but not from a Tentakook or similar enemies.

It’s an Octoling.

Uneasy fear takes its place in the pit of her stomach.

She has to get up.

She has to defend her homeland, her captain, her family.

Summoning all the strength she has left, Freya forces herself up.

She’s greeted with the most beautiful sight.

There’s someone kneeling - no, not kneeling, squatting down - close to where she is. The wind tosses her hair to and fro. A sun beam hits just behind her, veiling the girl in an ethereal orange hue. Her brown eyes are big, bigger than an Inkling’s; Freya realizes there’s no eye mask.

This is an Octoling.

Freya stares as she pushes herself up. She doesn’t know where she is, where her weapon is, let alone the situation - but then the octoling soldier does something unexpected in return.

The girl smiles with fondness as warm as the sun enveloping her in the radiance of the atmosphere.

Oh no, thinks Freya.

Suddenly there’s a lump in Freya’s throat, a foreign feeling fluttering in her chest. Her heart starts pounding harder than the beat in the Squid Sisters’ newest remix as she nervously takes in the features of the leather-clad soldier. A rich red-purple gradient colors her tentacles pulled back into a high ponytail - save for one of the loose tentas framing her face that is mottled with an almost alien looking mint green. Pinning the ponytail in place is a gilded golden toothpick with a takoyaki stuck to it.

The Octoling holds out a hand to help Freya steady herself. Agent 3 stares dumbfoundedly, mouth agape as she takes the hand offered to her. Their fingers meet achingly slow, like time slowed down just for this moment.

Freya can only think about how warm her hand is.

She opens her mouth to say something, anything to break the spell that’s enrapturing her.

“Who are-”

WHUMP.

The ground shakes as someone cries out excitedly. Freya’s head swivels in the direction of the sound, suddenly crashing back down to earth.

Oh. Now she understands what she heard earlier.

They’re up high, incredibly high. The sun is rising, silhouetting everything in an early morning glow. Freya spots Captain Cuttlefish cheering at the end of a helicopter platform as a huge statue - is that human? - sinks into the sea.

Freya then turns a bit further, spotting the other figures. The source of the sound is no less than hit sensation Off the Hook on the floor of the platform, with the aquamarine disk jockey of the duo embracing her other half with mountains of kisses. The shorter of the two - Pearl, Freya remembers - has her entire face flushed bright pink as she tries to get her partner to calm down, before succumbing with a big toothy grin.

The girl next to Agent 3 giggles, spurring Freya to commit the sound to memory.

Captain Cuttlefish beckons the two of them over to him. He sits down with his old Bamboozler laid across his lap as he starts to explain things to the Inkling girl about the journey they had, with the others occasionally popping in. Try as she might, she’s still a bit flustered about...well, everything that just happened. The Octoling soldier from earlier stands at attention as Off the Hook joins those seated.

She tunes out the next thirty or so minutes as the five of them watch the sun make its journey across the sky. Freya nearly feels peaceful enough to fall asleep...if it weren’t for the fact that they were on a helicopter lift and that her face wouldn’t stop tingling in such an uncomfortable way, she would.

- 🦑 -

Cuttlefish Cabin is just as charming as Agent 3 remembers.

Emerging from the kettle in a swatch of orange, Freya finally gets to look around at the little outpost atop Octo Valley. Pearl and the Octoling soldier, then the DJ follow, until Captain Cuttlefish at last rounds up the rest of the party and gently pats the sewer lid.

Paper lanterns are strung up across poles. Next to a modestly grown tree is a covered patio bench, accompanied by a slim looking television. The cabin itself has been given a new coat of paint. Pastel pink - likely Callie’s influence. It’s also wider than she remembers it being. Marie had mentioned she wanted to have the place remodeled...just how long was Freya in Kamabo? Above the shack, the gramophone has been replaced with a high tech satellite. The turquoise Octoling from before - Marina, that’s right - is currently marvelling at all the technological upgrades to Tentakeel Outpost.

Some Inkling she’s never seen before with long blue tentacles parted to the side of her head waves in Freya’s direction as she passes her by the kettle entrance, before tossing a big blanket over a very familiar giant snow globe. Freya almost asks questions, like who is this, what are you doing, is that fucking Octavio, what is he doing here before remembering the guests she’s dragged along.
She’ll find out her answers. She just has to go through the formalities for now.

“Helloooooooooo, we’re here. NSS meeting?” Freya calls out. She hears rapidly approaching footsteps.

In a bright pink and lime green blur, Freya is embraced by her sisters-in-arms all at once.

“You lived!” Callie cheers as she nearly crushes the shorter Inkling of the three in a bear hug.

Freya can’t help but laugh at that, her eyes shutting happily as she revels in this moment. “Well yeah, what kind of agent of the New Squidbeak Splatoon would I be if I died on the job?”

“A bad one, obviously!” Callie and Marie laugh as they pull Freya into a much gentler group hug.

“Oh man, we’ve got to show you what we’ve done to the place!

They drag her inside to show her the improvements they’ve made to the cabin. Various posters are sprawled across the side of the little hut, both from music and fashion brands. Freya notices that there’s a Chirpy Chips and Off the Hook poster for an upcoming collaboration. A waffle maker lies on the makeshift kitchen’s counter, accompanied by a brand new microwave and smoothie maker. Fairy lights are strung over the edges of compact shelves in the living space area - oh, those are new - that now hold Boopsy, the Squid Sisters’ beloved family pet.

“Holy shit, Boopsy has a terrarium now?” Freya marvels at Marie’s little pet bug flitting around in its enclosure. The lil thing stares at Freya, letting out an odd whistle. Marie makes an indignant sound.

“Um, Freya, their name is Royal Knight Bartholomew the Seventeenth, and they’d love it if you used their FULL NAME,” she says with a hand draped over her forehead dramatically.

“Oh HELL YES, Freya’s on Team Boopsy! I knew you had good taste, you funky little squid kid, you!” Callie drags Freya into an affectionate noogie, causing the three to immediately pull each other back and forth the way Judd and Lil’ Judd do when it comes to the last can of tuna.

“Boop..sy?”

Oh. Right. The new recruit.

The Octoling soldier stands in the doorway, looking around the inside of the shack. Boopsy (or is it Royal Knight Bartholomew? Freya isn’t exactly sure which one she would prefer to use) once again chirps, flitting around in their cage. The soldier stares at everything as if she’s greedily drinking in to commit it to memory.

“Freya, who’s this?” Marie asks. Callie leans in ever so slightly in a way that reminds Freya of a cat closing in on their prey. Not a good sign.

“Ah, this is…” Freya starts, before being interrupted.

“I am Jeanne. Agent Number 8, Subject Number 10,008. I was in Kamabo Corp for three weeks with Captain. It is a pleasure to meet you…" Joining her hands in front of her, the Octoling makes a clean bow. She's literally at a 90 degree angle.

Wow, thinks Freya. She's really cool.

"Jeanne, huh.. well, welcome to the New Squidbeak Splatoon!" Callie smiles, ever the upbeat one. "If Gramps trusts you enough to bring you here, you're already part of the family. Let's get along, yeah?"

The Octoling - no, Jeanne, smiles widely. “I hope we can. I would like to be friends with you all…” She trails off, like she’s searching for the right word. “...As well? Is that correct?”

“Ah, yeah. You seem to understand Inklish pretty well.” Marie says, stepping closer with a practiced grace. “Are you bilingual? Speaking different languages makes it tough to find the right word you want, so we get that.”

Jeanne lights up as if that’s it. Her hands connect in a little tap, one flat, one in a fist. “Yes! You understand! I have problems finding the um, perfect word for the conversation! There are many words for many things in Octa.”

Marie nods knowingly, eyes drifting over to the giant snow globe covered with an intricately weaved blanket.

“Oh. This is Agent One Callie and Agent Two Marie,” Freya finally remembers to say, pulling her sisters-in-arms close. “They make up the pop sensation the Squid Sisters.”

Jeanne gasps loudly.

“You two! You two were at the conshierta! The one with King Octavio! I have always wanted to meet you two in person!” She suddenly takes both of the pop stars’ hands, shaking them up and down excitedly. “I was there! At the conshierta! You two are incredible. I have never heard music like that before in my life!”

She’s a fan? Freya wonders, watching the three of them talk about the fateful concert two years ago.

“‘Conshierta?’ Is that...‘concert’? Oh! You were one of the soldiers in the crowd??” A lightbulb goes off in Callie’s head. “No way! What are the odds that we were both there?!”

“Not that uncommon, actually. I think that fight was broadcasted all over the kettles.” Marie grins in her usual toothy way.

“It was, but I saw the fight in person as well! With the little Inkling who faced off against our reigo!”

Ah. Fuck.

Both of the Squid Sisters look at Freya with a grin sharp enough to cut through the testing dummies on the other side of the outpost.

“You know, Jeanne-” Callie starts.

Agent 3 panics. “Don’t-”

“Freya here-” Marie comes in with the combo breaker.

“Callie and Marie Cuttlefish-”

“Freya is one hell of a fighter, wouldn’t you say?” Callie chirps with the face of a demon in disguise.

“Please great zapfish kill me now-”

“Ah, yes! When I was stuck inside the blender, she saved me and Captain!” Jeanne says in a tone that seems like fondness. Hearing it from Jeanne shocks Freya to her core.

“Uh, blender?”

“Yes, blender!” The Octoling beams.

Freya can feel the eyes on her. “Ah, we should explain that...Cap! Let’s begin the meeting.”

It’s then that the girls remember their grandfather have returned as well, and practically tackle Craig Cuttlefish with a hug. Freya uses this opportunity to duck into the cabin, taking her seat at the low table inside.

Slow padding footsteps follow her.

Jeanne looks around at everything within the cabin with wonder, with fascination. She stops at a framed photo on a shelf, then takes a few steps and stops again at a bowl of minty chocolates.

“Those are Marie’s. She won’t notice one missing. Go ahead and try one.” Freya realizes this is her first time speaking to the octoling alone. Her heart starts beating a bit faster.

The girl ponders things for a moment, then picks up a few to bring to the low table. She steps over to Freya and pauses. Watching the veteran agent, Jeanne kneels down onto one of many cushions around the table.

For some reason, being watched in such a scrutinizing way makes Agent 3 flustered.

“Ah, how do I…?” Jeanne’s voice snaps her out of it.

“Oh. Shit, I’ll show you. So like, you take one of these,” Freya explains, picking up one of the many Squandes chocolates from Marie’s bowl. “And you take the wrapper off. Some candies are harder to open than others. Once ya do that, you just go to town on that bitch.”

“‘On that bitch?’ Oh! Like chowing down!”

“Ah, yeah. Just uhh, don’t say ‘bitch’ if you don’t know what it means. Or ‘shit’. Or like, anything I yell when I get hit.”

Jeanne giggles. Freya swears on the Great Zapfish itself that the sound makes her want to cry, but in the good way. She’s never wanted to cry in the good way before. It’s astounding what one blackout does to her, really.

The Octoling finally sticks the odd little chocolate (shaped like a squid, no less) into her mouth and chews away.
“Mmm, it is...oh! Minty, but sweet? I like it!” Her face smushes in the most adorable way, making Freya’s stomach do a flip. “The promised land has many treats...I like it.”

“Y-yeah. I like it too.” Freya mumbles, distracting her racing mind by gnawing on her own chocolate squid.

“The truck we saw on our way here. It smelled like the takoyaki the reigo uses in his battles. Do Inklings also make takoyaki?”

“Huh? Oh, you mean Crusty Sean’s food truck? That’s all fried food.”

“Crusty Sean…” Jeanne tests the name on her tongue. “Sounds crispy.”

“God, if you think he sounds crispy, just wait til you see him once he’s open. He’s open like, late nights and in the afternoon, but never in the morning. That’s why the truck was closed when we got to Inkopolis today.”

The floorboards creak, followed by several footsteps.

“Comin’ innn.” Pearl’s familiar voice calls out, notably raspier than usual. It almost forces the MC to speak quieter.

"I like what you three have done with the place! It's about time we renovate Cuttlefish Cabin anyway. Thanks for the lovely surprise, girls."

"Aww, thanks Gramps."

"Thanks Gramps!"

The rest of the group finally comes into the room. Sheldon is unsurprisingly here too.

"Ah, you two have already settled in." The captain grins as he spots Freya and Jeanne. "Good! It's about time we start the meeting. Anyone want some tea?"

"Pearlie, you want some tea to help your throat heal up?" Marina asks, tucking a tentacle behind her ear. The pint sized pop princess nods almost frantically, causing the captain to chuckle.

"I'll get that started then. Girls, feel free to sit down, okay?"

"Alright, Gramps."

"Thank you Captain."

The group finally sits down.

Across from Freya sits the blue haired Inkling. She has a graceful air about her. Secretly, Three is jealous. Next to the girl sits Marie, then Callie. Next to her is Sheldon, then Pearl and Marina. Next to the DJ sits Jeanne.

An empty spot on Freya's left stays open for Craig.

“So! Who wants to go first? Team Lesbians?” Callie asks. The long haired Inkling flushes a bright sky blue, tensing up with her hands beneath the table.

“Um...that’s both teams.” Marie points out, motioning with a hand to Off the Hook.

“Okay, valid. Team Octolings or Team...Hmm. This is tough.”

“How about Team Octo Valley and Team Kamabo?” Sheldon points out, his little head barely meeting the top of the table. “Since that’s where the two groups were stationed in, anyway.”

“Yeah, that works.”

“Okay then, why don’t you guys go first?” Sheldon asks Freya’s side of the table. “I’m quite curious as to what you guys were up to!”

“Oh! Well, um...Pearlie yelled her heart out, so she won’t be great for conversation until she gets her tea…” Marina says, gracefully bowing both her totally-not-girlfriend and herself out of the discussion. “Jeanne must be tired, too…”

“Ah, I am fine! I can speak.” The octoling grins toothily, her sharp teeth poking out. “Well, ah...Where do I begin? There is so much that happened.”

For the next thirty minutes or so, Jeanne tells her tale. Freya tries not to glaze over during the whole thing. She won’t admit it, but she’s absolutely staring at the octoling to watch her face.

Starting off as nothing more than a soldier in the newest conflict against Inkling-kind, Jeanne fought. She fought beak and nail, clawing her way through the ranks to try and stay alive. In the warrior culture she raised and expected to thrive in, she had to work hard. Whether it was recon or securing supplies, she gave her all.

That led to her being invited to the fight that opened her eyes to everything.

When the Inkling soldier from two years ago faced off against her king, she hadn’t known there was anyone strong enough to do such a thing. The very concept, the idea, the notion that DJ Octavio could be defeated was entirely out of her mind’s grasp until that moment.

Then the song started. As the girl on that stage fought her hardest, Jeanne suddenly felt awake. It was almost as if this entire time, for the past 17 or so years of her life, she had been asleep. Once it was over and Octavio had been captured, she looked around and saw that she wasn’t the only one who was touched by the music. Since then, she had fought for a new purpose: to reach the surface and be free to live her life the way she wants.

That changed, however, when Octavio became free again. She had stalled too long waiting for the perfect moment. Jeanne was then shipped back off to near constant work, nearly extinguishing all remaining hope.

However, one of her tasks ended up becoming a routine part of her schedule. Every day while passing through Octo Canyon for supplies, she consistently found a spot mostly secluded. Away from guard posts, camera reach, away from anything that could potentially stop her was none other than a long abandoned kettle that was bound to lead to the surface.

One night not long after this discovery, two entire years after she had snapped out of the iron grip of the hypnoshades, Jeanne made her move. She left no note - she rarely got along with anyone in her squadron, after all - and made her way to her one way ticket out of hell. The octoling faced no opposition until she crossed paths with two inklings on patrol.

Freya’s gut sinks.

Jeanne talks about how she fought with all her heart, with all her soul for freedom. The adversary she faced was too strong, however, too quick, too experienced. She nearly got splattered across the floor and shipped right back to HQ - but Jeanne tripped. She fell back into the kettle, spurring the other two to give chase.

The kettle led to Kamabo.

After falling for what felt like forever, Jeanne landed near the metro. She fought hard, passed every test, reclaimed every stolen memory, all with the help of her newfound friends.

“That is how I am here. I needed to escape. How could I stay, after learning about the things our reigo kept from us?” The girl looks down at a little squid shaped eraser in her hand and places it on the table as she stands. “It was worth every ounce of pain.”

Freya almost asks what she’s doing, but is swiftly answered with Jeanne nudging her ink tank aside. Below the crop top she wears, Freya understands. Mottled angry blue flesh covers her back in the shape of various repeated explosions. Craig lets out a soft sigh as he sits down, passing out cups. He sets down a steaming teapot of whatever the cabin had on hand for the brew with something between weariness and resignation on his face.

“They made Eight do so much. Going on and on about how if she wanted to make it to the Promised Land, it was necessary. She kept going, and…” The captain sighs, clearly still caught up in the emotion of it all. “Whenever she failed a test, that tank would go off like an ink mine. I hated having to watch it. I can’t even imagine how it felt…”

Freya can’t let out the breath that froze in her throat. She just stares, right at the small of her back that’s been covered with proof of Jeanne’s tenacity. It reminds her of how young they all are; hell, she’s barely 18 and she’s absolutely got some traumatic experiences from her first campaign with the NSS under her belt.

Three finally snaps out of it and unzips part of her vest, tilting her head to the side.

The scar across her throat should still be there, after all.

“You won’t be alone here. We’ve all gone through something similar...so, um, don’t feel ashamed about it at all, okay? About the uh, scarring.” She murmurs, shutting her eyes to try to ignore the eyes on her.

The octoling stares for a moment with those big brown eyes of hers. Freya almost wonders if maybe she stepped out of line - but Jeanne lets out a quiet laugh. God, it makes her feel like she’s walking on air.

“Okay. Thank you, um..?”

“Freya.”

“Freya...Thank you, Freya, for your kind words. I appreciate them greatly.”

The fluttering feeling is back, making the collar of Three’s jacket vest combo rather warm. She stutters out a ‘no prob’ as she unzips the jacket the rest of the way, pointedly trying to ignore Callie and Marie’s teasing smirks.

“Well then, Three, where were you during all of this?” Sheldon asks. Now that Freya is out of her whole mindset, she realizes Sheldon is typing out a report through one of the NSS laptops. It’s notably plastered in stickers and likely doesn’t have an antivirus - so one of Callie’s old laptops.

“Well, it’s kind of a fucking pickle? I don’t know exactly where to start.” The inkling props her elbows up on the table as Craig pours out what smells like chamomile tea for Pearl. “When I was falling, I got like, hit halfway down. By some debris, or something. I landed in this whole other place.

“There were these odd looking octolings, like...walking around with these huge syringes. They seemed completely unaffected by my attacks. I ended up having to run from them most of the time. They were...aggressive. When I finally managed to get away from the majority of them, I snagged this thing from one of the stragglers.” Three reaches into her pocket for the employee model CQ-80, but finds it’s gone. “Ah, fuck. It’s gone. But uhh, using it to guide me away from the enemies in the vicinity, I tried to find the captain.”

“This thing?” Jeanne asks, as she places her two CQ-80s onto the table. Sheldon immediately snatches up one of them to tinker.

“Oh, fuck. Yeah. Did you get that when I blacked out?”

“Mhm! It was very cool.”

“Blacked out? Care to explain?” Sheldon asks as he nudges the laptop over to the bluenette inkling to keep typing for him.

“Ah, um, so with the whole thing about Kamabo? The testing?” Freya steeples her hands. “It was being overseen by a ‘Commander Tartar.’ When I was wandering through Kamabo Corp, his name kept popping up. Once I got my hands on this administrator...whatever, I went on autopilot.”

“So you got lost?” Marie says with a grin on her face. Freya sputters indignantly in response.

“I did not! I was being thorough! I had to be. Captain Cuttlefish is strong, but...I was worried about him.” He’s getting on in the years, after all. It’d be natural to worry about her captain. “I think I was running through one of the test chambers...that’s when my little device started blaring out this distress signal.”

Marina nods. Her hands are occupied with smoothing out Pearl’s hair, the smaller inkling leaning on her as she sips her tea through what looks like a bendy straw..? Freya has learned not to question the idol duo, and moves on with her story.

“I followed it, kind of broke some things in the process, and before I knew it, I realized the signal was beneath me. I thought, if anybody was out there that needed help in this place, I had to act. So I broke through the floor. I saw this structure, and inside it was the Captain. With Jeanne, too. So I acted without thinking and...I blacked out after that.”

“It was incredible!” Jeanne jumps in. “I had never seen anything like it. She sailed from the air like she was a bird. Very graceful, very powerful! She broke the blender open before we became, ah...dead!”

“I really did think we were done for… Freya really did a lot for us that day. Thanks, squiddo.” The captain says, patting the inkling on her head.

She’s totally not shy. No. Not at all. Freya feels the flustered glow of orange reach her cheeks, only spurring on the feelings she’s sparring with. It’s not that Three is modest, it’s that she doesn’t get praise like this often. Sure, there’s old lady Hiyoko who she helps regularly, but those kinds of words come naturally from elders.

When such high praise comes from someone her own age, Three is clueless on how to act.

“I. Um. Thanks...Ah, fuck. I was just doing the um, right thing...” She stutters out.

Craig is gracious enough to pick up where she’s left off. “After that, she destroyed the blender. She just busted right through it! Freya was completely knocked out cold from the impact. We found the CQ-80 on her, then used the maps on it to lead Eight out. She went on ahead, while I stayed behind hoping she’d wake up soon.”

He talks about how Jeanne had to do various things to escape, from sneaking through an entire area covered with guards that likely arrived after Freya broke through the ceiling, to guarding a power cell under heavy fire. At some point, where he was waiting, the telephone that tried to grind them up started making noises.

“At that point I thought, it’s just a telephone. It surely isn’t going to do much else after we broke the blender it tried to snag us with, right?” Craig says with a sheepish look on his face. “So I left it be. But what happened was...it suddenly came to life and spat out this odd looking liquid in my direction.”

The table is silent.

“Three...Freya came to right then. She probably doesn’t even remember that it happened, but she charged in between me and the liquid.”

Freya’s eyes widen as she realizes all eyes are on her.

“She saved me from being...hijacked by the telephone. When it hit her, she started screaming and clawed at her face. But when I tried to go over and help her, she suddenly grabbed me.”

Freya feels cold, like her ears suddenly shut off. Three’s head feels fuzzy - her fingertips, too. She looks down and on her hand, she realizes there’s some light burns all over her right fingers. It hurts. Some of the memories rush back all of a sudden - fear. She remembers fear.

“Agent Three was hijacked.” Marina speaks up. “The sludge that Commander Tartar used had effects not very far off of DJ Octavio’s brainwashing. With Three under his control, Tartar used her to try to block Eight from leaving the facilities.”

All Freya can think about is why? Why did Jeanne look at her like that then, if she attacked her while under the influence of some gross goop? Shouldn’t she hate her?

“Three, you had your limiter off.” Craig says softly.

“...What?” Freya abhors taking off her limiter. She hates the notion of just aiming to kill, all the time. “But I don’t remember taking-”

“I know. It’s okay.” Craig’s hand almost touches her shoulder, but he hesitates. Freya shakily nods, and he comforts her with a sweeping motion across her shoulder blades and spine. “It wasn’t you.”

But I should’ve tried to stop it, Three wants to say. I would never DO such a thing, Three wants to scream.

“Three has always done things like this,” Craig explains to the newcomers. Callie and Marie nod. “She sees us like family. Whenever there’s a threat, she just…”

“- charges in and tries to reduce collateral damage by taking the hit.” Marie finishes. Freya tries to ignore the hot flash of shame that strikes her when Agent Two says those words.

Callie pouts. “I think it’s really noble. It’s super brave of Three to do such a thing on the regular…”

Freya feels uncomfortably itchy. Her face burns in an odd way.

“Look, I just wanna go home...Can we finish the briefing?” Three tries not to whine.

The other three veteran members of the New Squidbeak Splatoon stop talking and collectively look at each other in an indescribable emotion, but nod.

Craig, Jeanne, and Marina then tell the story of how when Three went down, Eight then picked up Freya and started to climb up to the surface. They talk of a statue that awaited them at the top that meant to eradicate cephalopod-kind and replace it all with the ‘superior lifeform’ Commander Tartar likely created with the previous 10,007 test subjects. Off the Hook had arrived to pick up Jeanne and Craig, but ended up becoming the vital help that Jeanne needed to save Inkopolis.

Pearl then raspily talks about how she shouted at the statue so hard it blew up. Freya almost wants to doubt her, but she knows how loud the little inkling can be, so she just goes with it. Jeanne then says that’s when Freya woke up, then they made it here.

Callie and Marie just listen in awe.

“Shit, man…”

“Our task seems almost boring compared to yours,” Marie breathes out. She looks to the inkling girl, then to Callie. “Okay, so… Let’s start with the final splatfest we ran.”

Marie talks about how when she went back home to visit her mother about two weeks ago, Callie didn’t show. She was worried, and naturally so was her family. Making up her mind, Marie returned to Inkopolis to search for her cousin - but was greeted by a shattered snowglobe.

Octavio was set free, and he likely had an accomplice.

Marie had to find a new secret agent and fast.

Along came Akila.

Freshly moved in after a bad breakup, Akila was hungry for purpose. It only took for their eyes to lock for the new inkling in town to follow the lime green idol into the sewers, and before she knew it, she was the newest agent in the New Squidbeak Splatoon.

Looking at Akila, Freya can see why Marie scouted her in particular. There’s a quiet fury bubbling beneath the gaze of her lilac purple eyes, masking the bite of a fighter. Her long blue tentacles reach down to her mid thigh. She wears an NSS made tank top that shows off her absolutely chiseled muscles, along with a nasty looking burn scar on her right shoulder. Judging by the color, it looks like it was caused by octarian ink. Freya can relate.

Marie and Akila then talk about their fight to search for Callie. Over time, it became clearer and clearer that she had joined forces with DJ Octavio. Whether or not it was voluntary, of course, was up for question. The two inkling women went on to fight their way into Cephalon HQ, apparently realizing their feelings for one another??? Freya is appalled at the notion that anyone would be romantically involved with one of her big sisters-in-arms. She tries her hardest to not make a face.

The two break into a stadium for their final face off against Octavio and Callie, who was under the influence of brainwashing lenses. The Octobot King fought against Akila fiercely as Callie performed alongside him. With those guns, Freya is impressed that Akila didn’t immediately break him over her knee or something. Marie then swooped in with the help of Sheldon and actually shot the shades off Callie. The two of them laugh as they jokingly reenact the scene.

From there, it only took some memory jogging to snap Callie out of the influence of the shades. Once Callie was out of danger, Sheldon let Akila go feral with an incredibly modded Rainmaker. It was over before Octavio could even start for real. From there, it was incredibly easy to trap the king again and confine him to his snowglobe once more.

“And that’s how it happened. We have him outside, but there are no ways for him to escape from the globe without outside interference again. Which, speaking of, Callie did end up letting him out a few times,” Marie jokingly deadpans, side eyeing Callie with a grin.

“Okay but I looked hot in them, okay?? Can you blame me?!” Callie shouts predictably, causing the inkling girl trio to break out in giggles.

Freya smiles, but she feels the exhaustion settling in. It must be evident on her face, because it makes Craig smile in that way that she knows means he feels guilty. She takes one for the team and just says what’s on everybody’s mind.

“Well, now that we’re caught up, are we good to go? I really want to take like, two days to just sleep.” Freya tries not to snark.

There’s a beat of silence. Then two.

“Holy shit what are we gonna do about Eight?!” Pearl blurts out, sitting up with her cup of tea. “She doesn’t have a place to live up here, she’s barely been in Inkopolis for a few hours!”

“Oh fuck.”

“She’s right…”

“Well then, maybe I could buy Eight a house? Or lend her one of my mansions? It wouldn’t be a big deal.” Pearl looks at the table. Jeanne’s eyes widen. “She could even live with me and ‘Rina if she felt like it! There’s a ton of space in our house!”

“Noooooo! You have done more than enough to help me. I am thankful, but I am fine! I would not want to make you go through the trouble.” Jeanne flushes a light red-purple at the notion.

“If Pearl’s is out, then we’re open!” Callie chirps immediately, to Marie’s dismay.

“Um, are you serious? Have you seen how messy the house has been? Even my room is out of sorts. There’s no way Jeanne would be happy there.” Marie frowns as Callie deflates. “Our place is out, unfortunately.”

"I live in a pretty small apartment…" Akila admits, a finger on her chin as she thinks. "Maybe Sheldon?"

“My place is above the weapons shop, and it’s kind of full of weapons to repair all the time…” Sheldon speaks up as he finishes typing out his report. “Sorry I can’t be any help.”

That leaves two people.

Craig Cuttlefish and Freya Rán.

“You’ve seen where I live. I don’t think it’d be a good place for a young Octoling to learn about life on the surface,” he says in that comfortingly rumbling voice of his.

Fuck, that’s right. Craig practically lives in a manhole and the sewers.

Freya’s heart starts beating faster as she realizes the depth of the situation. Holy shit she’s moving in with you. She barely knows you and you barely know her but you’re moving in together. Is that allowed. Is that allowed???

She opens her mouth to object, to decline, to do literally anything, but then she locks eyes with Jeanne again for the second time that day.

Those big brown eyes blink almost delicately as she stares back at Freya.

Oh, she’s saying something? She barely noticed.

“- I am sorry to intrude on your home. Is it okay if I may live with you, Freya?” Jeanne asks. It’s barely hitting Freya how the way Jeanne speaks has a distinct Octa accent. Her head is buzzing.

“Of course,” Freya says, sealing her fate.

- 🦑 -

It’s late afternoon when the girls part ways.

Callie, Marie, Akila, and Captain Cuttlefish stay in Octo Valley with Sheldon to go over their intel in further detail. Pearl and Marina head home with the same excuse Freya has, that they are just shitfaced exhausted after the day they’ve had. The entire NSS exchanged contact info before heading out. As they parted ways, the girls all promised to meet up again soon to help Eight get acclimated to life in Inkopolis.

The girl needs to shop for things, now that she’s going to be living up here.

Jeanne is thumbing away at the brand new phone that was gifted to her (rather forcibly, by the way) by Off the Hook as the two of them approach the subway station that heads out of town.

Freya, meanwhile, can’t stop thinking about the sheer amount of info that’s been dumped on her as she waits almost impatiently for the subway.

“So! Freya! This subway we are taking, it is like the Metro?” Jeanne asks, wrapped up in Three’s generously gifted jacket.

“Mm, sort of? There’s a map, and it takes you to places, but it’s not like the Deepsea Metro in the sense that you have to test to get off. You just have to pay.” Freya crosses her arms as she feels the air on her tongue, the light taste of sea salt registering on her taste buds. “It’s not nearly as complicated or deadly, so you don’t have to worry.”

“Ohhh, is that so? Well, I am excited to see this place that you live in. It is far from here?”

“No, not much. It’s barely like, out away from the city. It’ll be quieter than here for sure.”

“Ah, I see! I understand. What are the people like?”

Freya feels shy as she suddenly has to scrounge up memories of her neighbors. Truth be told, she doesn’t talk often to most of them. “Well...I think maybe it’d be best if you found out yourself. I want you to be able to see things with your own eyes, and stuff.”

Jeanne hums in response, about to respond as a sleek subway with rather artistic graffiti of a Kraken on the side pulls up. “Oh! It is here. Shall we go to your home?”

“Yeah, let’s head on. I’m beat…”

With a hop and a step, the two girls get onto the subway. It’s almost empty. Only about five or so inklings are on board, and at that the majority are distracted with other matters. Freya leads the way as she sinks into a hard plastic seating area, sprawling out with exhaustion.

Jeanne follows and sits primly next to the inkling, a little smile on her face. “You are ‘beat?’ That is tired?”

“Yeah. Some people use ‘wasted’ too, but I prefer ‘beat.’ You’re not tired?” Freya asks.

“No! I am excited to see more of the surface. I want to see as much as I can.”

“I get that. Once you’re able to act for yourself, you’re free as the wind.”

“You understand?”

“Uhuh. I’m living on my own, so I get to do what I want.” Freya shuts her eyes as the subway finally jolts to a start, scooting along as it pulls out of the station.

“Ohhhhh! I understand. You have no reigo to order you.”

“Mhm! I’m my own ruler.”

“So inklings are their own reigo?”

“Uhh, sort of? We do have to pay things like rent, but I’m almost done with the mortgage on my house. Then I own it and don’t have to pay every month anymore.”

“And mortgage is?”

“Mortgage? It’s like, uhh. You don’t have all the money for a cool weapon all at once, so you pay it in chunks over time. Wait, that’s a bad metaphor. Sheldon would never do a layaway plan. I’m just like, paying off the full price of my house over time instead of all at once cause I while I have money, I don’t have enough money. Does that make sense?”

Jeanne stares a bit, then blinks.

“Umm… I think I understand.”

Freya thinks it's the first time she's seen the octoling look the slightest bit confused. Jeanne's a sharp one, probably sharper than everyone else in the Squidbeak Splatoon.

"It's fine if you don't. I'm the one that pays for it anyway, so nobody will mind if you're on the property."

"Property?"

"Ah, I'm going to have to figure out a better way to explain things…"

Freya's eyes wander to the window behind her. She turns a bit to get a better view of the world outside. Jeanne's line of sight follows, peeking out the window.

The sky is a vivid orange as the sun nearly finishes its daily trek across the limitless expanse. Now out of the city, rolling fields of grass sprawl out across the landscape. The occasional sign pokes out amongst the fields as they blur past. Birds drift on the wind as the plains practically sing with their pale blue flowers dancing in the wind.

"Do you like the view?" Freya asks quietly. The question has been on her mind for a while.

Jeanne lets out a hushed 'yes' in response as she watches the world go by. She gets comfortable.

Three can't help but smile to herself.

The two sit in a comfortable silence until the subway eventually slows to a stop at their station.

A ‘ding’ chimes out as the subway doors open, letting any passengers get off.

The inkling stretches, sighing softly as her muscles tense then relax. “Well then, let’s head home so you can rest.”

“Ah, yes! Please lead the way.”

The girls disembark from the subway car. They pass the subway’s sign on the boarding area declaring ‘PRAWNFORD STOP’ with a little sticker of a prawn slapped on to it.

While every bit as clean as the Inkopolis stop they departed from, this station has an entirely different vibe to it. The walls outside the boarding area have a more open approach. One can see the sky from inside the station. A mural depicting a saintly woman in the waves of the sea is painted over a wall in the platform. She looks human. Jeanne takes in the artwork, holding up her phone to take a picture.

Further into the platform before it splinters off into stairs and escalators, a small snack bar lies across the room from the ticketing booth. Freya tries to take her mind off how hungry she is. The duo then take an escalator heading down. A simple clear canopy covers the area above to shield people from the elements while still allowing you to see the sights. The town below is by no means on the scale of Inkopolis, but it is lively nonetheless.

Styled much like an old world pueblo, the town of Prawnford bustles on. As Freya and Jeanne walk the rest of the way to their destination, the smell of the sea and food frying on various food stands greets them. Someone nearby blasts Wave Prism from Chirpy Chips’ newest album on their stereo upstairs above the ground level; the pedestrians below sit around bopping their head to the beat as they dine outdoors.

While there are paved roads that pass through the town, nearly everyone is on foot as they make their way through. The occasional bike or motorcycle zooms past the duo.

Now and then people will greet Freya as she passes them by, from young teen inklings complimenting her boots to elderly ones eating out with their families. She pays the teens no mind as she just puts up a hand in greeting, though she does stick around to ask the elders if they are well.

“You seem popular,” Jeanne giggles as the two of them detach from an older man who asked about what Freya was up to these past few days.

It makes Freya scoff a bit. “Hah, it’s just ‘cause they haven’t seen me in like, a month. They were probably worried by now, y’know? Ah-” She cuts off as Freya spots an elderly woman with braided tentacles strains to reach a crate of daikon radishes being offered to her. “Miss Panuko! Let me get that for you.”

Jeanne watches as Freya swoops in, quickly grabbing the crate so the older woman doesn’t strain herself.

“Oh my, if it isn’t young Freya! How have you been, dear? I haven’t seen you come home at all these past few days.” The woman’s eyes shut in a wrinkly smile. “And who is this? A little friend of yours?”

Ahahahaha fuck. Freya can’t stop the bright orange blush from rising to her face, almost causing her to lose her grip on the radish crate. “Ah! This is! My friend Jeanne. She’s going to be staying with me for a while.” She turns to the octoling girl quickly. “Jeanne, this is Miss Panuko. She’s my next door neighbor.”

“Oh? I am happy to meet you, Miss Panuko!” Jeanne bows at the waist, her tentacles swaying as she does so. The action makes the old woman chuckle a bit.

“Goodness, dear, I’ve told you it’s okay to call me Miss Hiyoko or Yoko! At least, I thought I did…”

“Um, we’re heading home if you want me to accompany you, Miss P- wait, Hiyoko…Sorry, I’m used to being-”

“More formal? I know dear, there’s no shame in it. But we’ve been neighbors for two years now, so I thought you should know!”

“I know, I’m sorry!” Freya laughs. “But, shall we?”

“Yes. Now Jeanne dear, tell me about yourself! If you’re going to be staying with my favorite neighbor, I should get to know you.” Hiyoko smiles up at the octoling as they begin to make their move back home.

“Ah! Of course! I am a new...coworker? Of Freya! She is letting me stay with her because I have nowhere else to go.”

“Yeah, she had a weird situation with her hotel, so I offered to let her stay at my place.” Freya swoops in, face even as she lies through her teeth. “She does good work! We’re just working things out ‘til her first paycheck comes in.”

“Is that so?” Hiyoko gasps as she walks along. The trio turns a corner as they follow the street lights past a marketplace full of people. “I do hope you get that figured out, then!”

“Hah, yeah…” Freya trails off.

“Yes! I am excited to see this place that Freya lives in. I have not been here before.”

They pass a corner food stand, finally getting to the more residential area of Prawnford. The houses become single-storied to give the tenants yard space.

“Oh! I see! In that case, once you two are all settled in, you should come by my restaurant. It’s not far from here, actually.”

Freya’s stomach rumbles incessantly.

“Coddddd, you’re making me hungry Miss Hiyoko. I don’t remember the last time I ate.”

“Well then, all the more reason to do so later! Today’s my day off, though.”

“A restaurant?” Jeanne asks.

“Yeah, there’s food and an arcade game and everything. Sometimes even reservations for parties. Miss Hiyoko invites me to any of her personal reservations cause she’s sweet like that.” Freya smiles shyly.

“Oh, I understand! That is very kind.”

The octoling’s words seem to touch the old woman’s heart. Hiyoko grins, her eyes creasing closed as she does so. “Well, Freya is living in that house all by herself, after all. We have to care for the youth. They’re the future of tomorrow! Ah, here we are.”

The trio stand in front of a street with several houses lined up. Trees half painted white to ward off rot are planted every few houses in front of high gates meant to ward off thieves.

“Now then, it was very nice meeting you Jeanne. I’m sure I’ll see you around! Freya dear, let me take those daikon back now.”

“Hah, sorry, but I know you’re getting a little tired by now. Let me at least get these inside for you, okay?” Freya readjusts the grip on the crate of radishes, adamant on helping out her neighbor.

“You see, Jeanne? Freya is a sweet girl. You’re in good hands with her.” Hiyoko says before unlocking the gate and heading inside. “Don’t be a stranger now! See you two around.”

With that, the elderly woman heads inside with Freya, who pops out a few moments later sans the crate.

“She is very thankful for you!” Jeanne chirps, causing Three’s cheeks to warm.

“Hah, yeah… We’re right here next to it. Let’s go so you can rest up in an actual bed, yeah?”

As Three unlocks the gate to her home with a resonating clunk, she pushes the door open for Jeanne with a half flourish. “Mi casa es su casa...or something like that. Hope you like the place.”

Freya’s home is tucked in within the gate fences. Pots filled with soil - but notably, not plants - cover a ledge in front of the house’s big windows. It is shaped almost like an L, though more upside down in terms of layout. To the left of the gate entrance, smooth stone pillars holding up a canopy lead the way to the front door.

“Here’s the house tour, okay?” Freya starts. When her coworker nods, she grins as she continues. “Here’s the hallway-slash-living room-slash-dining room.” The door opens as Freya’s home greets her with the faint smell of fried food. Three motions like she's a Wahoo World employee guiding some people as she speaks. “To your left is the bedroom. In front of us is the bathroom. And to the right is like, everything else.”

It’s a modest home. Empty for one person, likely cozy for two.

I was thinking of getting a cat or something at some point, Freya muses. Guess I can’t now.

The walls are sparsely decorated - mostly because Freya never had an eye for interior design. Blackout curtains cover each of the house’s big windows, making it seem almost like night inside. Freya almost flicks a light on, but decides against it. No point anyway - she’s going straight to sleep once she gets the chance.

“So uh, I’ve got a lot of boxed mac and cheese. It’s the only thing I have a ton of that doesn’t go bad easily aside from canned stuff. We can go shopping tomorrow...I’m sure Mako Mart has to be open.” Jeanne watches as Freya opens her pantry, showing off her expansive macaroni and cheese collection. “I’ll show you how to make it sometime. That way you won’t starve if I’m not here.”

“These are rations?”

The question is so packed with things Freya knows for a fact she doesn’t want to touch upon right now.

“No. It’s a meal option. You can make as many of these as you want, even not eat any of these if you end up not liking it.”

“So it is not like, a piece you break off?”

“Nah, it’s hot food. We’ll get it going once the both of us get some rest. Unless you’re hungry now, I mean?”

Freya watches as the octoling takes a moment to genuinely think. She can’t quite put her finger on why the expression on Jeanne’s face hurts her.

“No. I am tired… Food before rest, it hurts the stomach.”

“Oh, yeah. I get that. Let’s get you situated, then.”

Freya leads the way to her room, passing the kitchen counter and the couch where she’ll be sleeping tonight. She’d have to be mindful of her phone during the night when playing her white noise. Opening the door with a creak, Three tries to not make it obvious that she’s praying that she cleaned her room before leaving for the cape with the captain.

Thankfully, her prayers are answered.

The floor is a simple rug, the color long faded before Freya moved in. A lonely dresser sits on the left side of the room. A lone Squid Sisters poster signed by both singers of the pop duo is carefully framed above the bed. It’s big enough for Freya, long tentacles and all, to sprawl out on during hot nights and avoid feeling sticky.

A sliding closet is on the right side of the bedroom, to which Freya steps over to. She pulls out a few blankets and pillows as she motions for Jeanne to get acquainted with the room.

“Hope it’s to your liking. I don’t get to decorate much. Help yourself to anything in the closet if you feel like changing out, okay? That can’t be comfortable to sleep in.”

“Ah, thank you! Will you sleep here?”

The tone in Jeanne’s voice makes it clear it’s an innocent question - Freya knows that. Even so, she can’t help but freeze up as a tangerine blush blazes across her cheeks.

“Um!” She tries to start. “I! Kick in my sleep! And I want to make sure you enjoy sleeping in a real bed. So uhh, you just get some rest, okay?”

Oh, that was REAL smooth. Totally.

Jeanne buys it though. Her mouth opens in a little ‘o’ as she claps her hands together. “I understand! But, ah, where are you going to rest?”

“Mm, don’t worry about it. I’m just gonna be on the couch in the living room, okay? If you need anything, don’t hesitate to come ask. Got it?”

“...Yes. I understand! And, um...Freya?”

Three’s heart skips a beat.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

- 🦑 -

She’s staring in the mirror of her shitty bathroom after she’s changed out of agent gear. Three traces over every detail of her own face as she scrubs away at her beak, making sure to eradicate the germs she’s accumulated during Kamabo.

She’s such a sweet person, Freya thinks. I...don’t know what to do.

Three spits the foamy toothpaste into her sink with a grimace, her orange tongue poking out of her mouth as she stares down her reflection. The events of the day are barely starting to settle down within Freya’s mind. It makes her feel heavy.

She saved your life.

The inkling leans down to get some water into her palms to splash onto her face before bed. A grumbling sigh escapes her as the liquid hits skin. Freya blindly reaches for a towel to dry off.

A bed would’ve been heaven by now, she reminds herself.

But then she wouldn’t have anywhere comfortable to sleep. It isn’t fair to Jeanne, she reasons back.

Suit yourself.

...man, you’re really talking to yourself, huh..?

Finally too fed up with everything, Freya heads out to the living room. She triple checks to make sure the door REALLY is locked before at last plopping down onto the couch.

It’s been a long day.

I know, the lone inkling says to herself. It’s only the beginning. She knows it.

But she’s gone too far now to really refuse. She’s housing an octoling now. In other places, it could be considered a war crime. Freya decides not to think about the legality of her situation.

Three silently scrolls through her sleep aid playlist before getting comfortable under a weighted blanket. Sounds of the ocean - appropriate.

Jeanne’s smile suddenly flashes back into Freya’s mind as she sits awake, staring at the ceiling. There’s a fluttering feeling in her chest as she thinks back to it: the sun, the sea, the smile.

Slumber takes her at last.

Chapter Text

Freya is running. 

Something’s chasing her - something too strong for her to outmatch. An incessant ringing from the device strapped to her belt gets louder and louder as she races onward, her breathing quickly becoming ragged. 

It doesn’t make sense. 

She’s the best of the best, there’s no way she’d get...exhausted on a mission. Not even Kamabo made her-

Kamabo? 

She isn’t remembering something. The ringing from her CQ-80 suddenly becomes a steady shriek as a spot beneath her seems to be the source of the signal. Freya’s head swivels in the direction of her pursuer. 

In the dark rank halls of the laboratory, she sees them. 

The sprawling form of an unfathomable enemy, reaching out ever further towards her. Freya bites down a scream as she kicks down beneath her, shattering the dilapidated concrete and awning. 

She dives down, knowing nothing else but that she must save the source of the signal. 

Hasn’t she done this before? 

A huge device holds something - her captain? And Jeanne? - and begins to whir to life as she approaches it at high speeds. Her arms go up to brace herself for impact-

CRASH. 

Blinding pain flashes across her body, glass effortlessly broken by her collision easily slicing into her. Orange ink oozes from Freya’s body as she winces, biting back a cry of pain. She’s on the ground, fractals of glass landing all around her. 

Never do that again , she tells herself. Agent Three forces herself to her feet, wobbly as the pain continues to register. She can feel cuts on her face- everywhere, really. An almost warm stream of orange runs down her sleeve as she rips a shard of glass out of her forearm, nearly biting her tongue as she tries to stay strong. 

“Captain?! Jeanne! Are you two-” 

She spots the octoling and war veteran on the ground not far from where she is, and a sigh of relief escapes her. 

“Oh thank Cod...Jeanne? Captain Cuttlefish? Can you hear me?” 

Freya steps closer, a groan escaping her as she feels her foot ring out in pain. She hit the glass with it - maybe it’s broken? Or sprained? Sprained seems more likely. Jeanne stirs. 

“Jeanne...Captain. Get up…” She half limps as she continues to approach, her vision starting to turn dark at the edges like she’s about to splat and respawn. “Come on Captain, I’m not gonna carry you out of here no matter how old you are.” 

As if answering her prayer, they finally do. Facing away from her, the duo slowly rise to their feet.

Jeanne's ink color suddenly darkens. 

Freya's eyes widen and she takes a halting step back. The color's supposed to be a reddish purple, isn't it? Why did it turn that sickly blue green color? 

A similar shift barely registers on Craig's dried out form, the elderly Inkling slumped over as he steadies himself on his old Bamboozler. 

This isn't right. She wasn't awake for this, was she? She remembers hitting the glass, and then-

A rickety grumble suddenly starts from the shattered remains of the device. Freya remembers that sound, almost a little too well. 

"Jeanne...Captain...you…"

Jeanne turns toward her, the sickly color in her tentacles spreading through her skin. Clammy green hands reach for Freya, grasping at air as her form shudders. 

This isn't how it went. 

"Jeanne, get...get away from me!" Freya finally shouts, reaching for her weapon. 

Her hand meets the side of her leg and her heart plummets. Nothing.

The octoling girl finally lifts her head enough so Freya can see her face - completely pitch black eyes stare back at her. It takes everything within Three to not scream, to not show she's afraid, to not give the enemy the satisfaction of knowing they can get to her at all. 

"Captain-" 

The elderly man blindsides her, knocking Freya to the ground effortlessly. Despite his age, he's always been strong. Three yelps in surprise, sprawled out on the floor unceremoniously. 

"Captain! It's me, it's Freya! I'm not-" 

The two stand over the agent, unblinking black eyes gazing into hers. The unbearable racket of the machine behind them gets louder, steering into a harsh shriek as a mess of liquid suddenly bursts out of it. 

She feels hands forcing her eye open, then screaming and burning, the incessant howl of the telephone, her retinas practically burning, then- 

"AAAAAH!"  Freya wakes with a start and nearly falls off wherever she's sleeping, her heart beating a mile a minute. The sweat-drenched inkling breathes heavily as she sits alert, trying to steady her heart rate as she takes in her surroundings. 

She's on the couch. An abandoned bag of seaweed chips sits right next to where the remote is on the carpeted floor. Her old television continues to play the previous program - something about the human era industrial revolution and heavy machinery. Her phone reads a bleary 7:10 AM and 16% battery as Freya blinks away orange tinged tears sprung from panic.

A dream?

As soon as the thought pops into her head, she wants to berate herself. 

A nightmare.

She hasn’t had nightmares for a year now. Nothing nearly on that scale since she got her scar. 

“Seriously, Freya? It bothered you that much..?” She mumbles to herself as she feels her forearm where she had ripped out a glass shard in the dream, reassuring herself that it wasn’t real. Firm muscles greet her slightly burnt fingertips instead of a wound.

The agent sighs as she relaxes at last, sprawling out on her couch. 

She hears padding footsteps. 

Oh. Fuck. That’s right…

“Mmm...Freya?” A warbly yawn sounds out from her room as the door opens. 

Jeanne stands in the doorway, one of Freya’s old shirts from her Inkopolis Central days covering her form like pajamas. Her tentacles are down, draping over one shoulder. It leads Freya’s eyes to the design on her shirt - it’s her old Splatfest tee. Team Callie. She had shut her eyes and picked blindly that fest. “Mateno…”

“Mateno?”

“Like...the sunrise.”

“Oh, ‘morning’?” Freya realizes, sitting up as Jeanne approaches the couch to sit beside her. 

“Yes! Morning. We say ‘ bona mateno’ when we rise. It is a greeting.” She gets cozy, pleased at how cushy the seat is. Curious, Jeanne picks up the discarded bag of seaweed chips to inspect them closer.

“Bona mateno.”  Freya repeats carefully, causing a beaming smile to grace Jeanne’s face. 

“Bona mateno! Octa comes to you very well. It sounds right.” 

“Hah, it’s probably just 'cause I spent a lot of time in Octo Valley.”

“Is that so?” Jeanne plucks a chip out of the bag, the surface of it dappled with little bits of roasted seaweed. She smells it before popping it into her mouth, thinking as she crunches away. “Mm… Bleh.” Her red-purple tongue sticks out in an expression of distaste. 

“Those are pretty stale. I kept forgetting to close them with a clip.” Freya stretches her arms out in front of her, groaning as her shoulder pops. “How’d you sleep?”

“Very well!” Jeanne smiles sincerely, her eyes shutting. “Your home is very comfortable. I have never slept on a bed so soft…”

Freya can’t find it in herself to admit that her mattress is a bit on the firmer side. “Oh, I’m glad. You like the shirt too?”

“Yes! It is the pink Squid Sister. I remember her.” Callie’s drawn face on the tee stretches as Jeanne pulls the shirt to look at the pattern. “She is nice. Very...pep filled?”

“Peppy?”

“Yes. I think...she is cool.”

“Nah, if you want cool, Marie’s the cooler of the two. Callie’s cute. It’s their thing.” Freya smiles to herself. 

“Ohhhh.”

A beat passes. Freya tries to look at the TV to distract her from the mental whiplash she’s going through. A whirring saw goes down to cut a slab of wood, but the sound of the saw only  reminds her of the sound of the blender. She reaches down to swoop up the remote, changing the channel. 

Inkopolis News is on, thankfully. Three sighs internally as she leans back into the sofa, letting Pearl and Marina relay stage availability to distract her. 

Jeanne’s barely said anything. 

Freya wants to look, but a part of her fears that if she does, her eyes will be that same pitch black from her nightmare. 

Her fist balls up in the loose fabric of her home shorts, trying to muster up her courage. Slowly, ever so slowly, she turns. 

Jeanne’s regular brown eyes are focused on the television, watching Pearl talk about fashion trends.

A wave of relief rushes through Three, and she finally feels like she can relax. 

This is real. I’m awake, she repeats to herself as her gaze follows Jeanne’s. 

“ - isn’t this fashion trend fresh as hell? Look at how this kid’s tentacles look! So $&%# fresh…” Pearl’s voice bleeps out as she swears on screen. A picture of a boy with a big afro is next to her on screen, the pink idol invested in the look. 

“Pearlie! We’re still recording, you shouldn’t swear yet!” Marina’s voice cries out, a little laugh in it. 

“Oh. &%$&.” The program ends as Pearl’s voice is bleeped out again, causing Marina to go into a laughing fit. Their conversation fades out.

The Off the Hook logo pops up on screen, a little chime playing as the two of them laugh soundlessly behind the logo, occasionally having their mouths blocked out as they swear now and then. 

“They seem happy.” Freya murmurs, picking her phone up. A turf war local tournament comes on the air as Freya checks her notifications, mindlessly swiping away uninteresting Squitter blurbs. 

“That was an Octoling,” Jeanne says quietly, incredibly quiet. 

Three's thumb stops in its tracks. “Huh? You mean Marina?” 

“No, the boy, he was an Octoling.” She fumbles to find the remote, picking it up and inspecting it for a split second before hitting the rewind button. 

“Another octoling ? On TV.” Freya replies dumbfoundedly, an eyebrow raised. 

“Yes? Look, look!” Hitting the pause button, then the forward once or twice until she hits pause again, Jeanne points at the screen with Pearl talking about fashion trends. The kid with the afro smiles at the camera, wearing a striped sweater. 

 Freya squints at the television, realizing what she means. 

“No eye mask.”

“Yes! You see it! I knew Marina was on television, but there are others?”

“Shit, probably? I actually...haven’t paid attention to appearances until last year, more or less. When Marina rolled up and made her way to live TV, I figured out Octolings started to make their way to the surface. I didn’t realize she wasn’t an Inkling until I heard her sing.” Freya pushes the Options button on the remote, clicking Jump to Live TV to skip to where the tournament is now. A team named Hurricane Howlers is pitted up against a group named Team Bering, about a minute into the match.

“How?”

“How I figured it out? Well...it’s in her music. Color Pulse, the song they play in the plaza for Splatfests - oh, I’ll explain those some other time - it has this...Octo Valley vibe to it. It sounds almost like your, um… reino ? His music.” 

“Oh, Reigo Octavio? Her music, it sounds almost like his?”

“Not just his, also Turquoise October.”

“Ah, I understand! It is Octa music.”

“I guess? Yeah. That must be it. Octarians seem to have a lot of pride in the music culture.”

“Like the song?”

That question makes Freya stop and think for a moment.
“Um… Which one?” She asks, trying to understand what Jeanne means. In the background, a small girl from the Hurricane Howlers team suddenly gets cornered by a baller. Freya feels for her. With a burst of ink, Team Bering pulls ahead.

“The ah...one that goes like,” Jeanne says before humming out the Calamari Inkantation. “It is the same for you? For Inklings?” 

“Ohhhh. Yeah, that’s like it. You know, until we played it that one day, I never knew just how integrated it was in our culture.” When Jeanne doesn’t immediately ask anything in her hunger for knowledge of the surface, Freya continues. “There’s this place, Calamari County. The people there sing it when ships leave or return home. In the...war, between Inklings and Octolings, they sang it to send off their loved ones to war, and welcome them home when they return safe. This was before respawn points were made, I think.” 

Jeanne is quiet, making Freya look at her nervously. Was it a sore subject, bringing up the war between their races like that? She doesn't look mad or anything…in fact, she's staring intently. Is it okay to talk about this?

“The Inkantation was pretty well known since then. Captain used to live there. Callie and Marie grew up there. They even sang the Inkantation once, for Inkopolis’ yearly youth singing competition. They love music from Calamari County a lot.” Freya's eyes drift over to the television, then back to Jeanne - who's reaching for her face? 

Freya freezes on the spot, unsure of how to act. Is this where she rips my eye out? Or like, gouges my face with those nails of hers? What's-  

The agent's line of thinking suddenly halts as a thumb delicately brushes beneath her right lower eyelid, barely touching her eye mask. She feels her face flush with a bright tangerine.

H-

Freya almost says something, almost asks what she's doing, if she said something to offend her, but then suddenly the thumb pokes gently and pain flares up across her face. 

"Agh-!"

"Oh! Oh no, I am, I'm sorry! Did I-" 

"No no, it's- raw? I think I burned or like, skidded my face on something." Freya winces as she rubs where the pain originated. She swears internally, making a mental note to get some aloe vera. "Cod, I...I thought that went away." 

"That is where he took control of you," Jeanne says softly. Three slowly looks up, her eyes wide. "He...controlled you through that area. With the…'goop soup'." 

"Goop soup? "

"Pearl made that name for it. It was, um...Commander Tartar. He was there." Jeanne lifts her hand hesitantly, but Freya nods. She traces the skin around the right side of her face, narrowly missing her eye as she does so. 

Freya can't breathe without feeling like this is something...somehow too private to hear, or feel or do . 

"- All the way to here," Jeanne finishes, her hand drifting away. "I am...glad you are unharmed. I thought…" 

"That you killed me?" 

A silent nod says all she needs to know. 

"It's okay, Jeanne." The name on Freya's tongue feels too personal, too sacred to say aloud. As to why, she has no idea. "You...had every reason to defend yourself." 

The octoling smiles, though it's nowhere near as happy as when Freya tried to speak in Octa earlier. 

"It's-" 

She's cut off by the unholy growl of a person's stomach who probably hasn't eaten for like, a whole day. Thinking on it, Freya kicks herself for not even making something for her houseguest to at least snack on if she was hungry. 

"Shit, you're hungry...me too. Come on. I'll show you how to cook the main thing I have here." Freya stands, her foot a little asleep, as she tilts her head over to the kitchen counter. Deep down, she hopes some breakfast will drive the implications of the pain in her face away.

- 🦑 -

Jeanne sits before a freshly made bowl of boxed mac and cheese. She stares at the suspiciously yellow food, smelling intently.

"Feel free to try it whenever you want. It's kinda hot, so be careful." Freya quickly tucks into her respective bowl, the macaroni piled high. The inkling chews with gusto, finally glad to have something in her stomach.

"It is...very yellow." Jeanne says plainly, poking at a noodle carefully with her fork. "It is safe to eat?" 

"Hell, if it wasn't, I don't think I would've lived this long. I've eaten this stuff for months." 

"Oh." The octoling stares, observing Freya eating for a moment. She picks at the food, scooping some onto her fork as she watches. 

Freya finally looks up, blinking intently at her dining companion. “Don’t worry if you don’t like it. I can whip something else up too.”

Jeanne shakes her head no and opens her mouth, showing off the sharp looking teeth she hides beneath her usual smile. She takes a cautious chew of the instant meal. 

Three watches, waiting for her reaction. Eight’s face sort of squints with her eyes closed, then as she chews she makes various different expressions one after the other. It reminds her of an old world human video she saw once, of some girl drinking a fermented drink. 

“This is...nothing I have eaten before. It has flavor …” Jeanne murmurs, trying to process what she’s tasting. 

“Yeah?” is all Freya can say. Jeanne’s reaction almost makes her wonder if mac and cheese was too big of an introduction to surface food. “Are you okay?”

“Uh! Yes. Sorry, I...I realize we have very, um...food with no flavor? Very flavorless?”

“Flavorless, yeah.”

“So I am... a little taken aback at the idea that food can taste like this,” Jeanne admits sheepishly, a warm red blush on her cheeks. She goes for a second bite, chewing thoughtfully. “Rations taste like nothing. This is...a little bitter. With something that smells nice…”

“The bitterness is the cheese packet. It’s instant cheese. The fragrant part is the butter we added once the noodles were cooked...and there’s milk in there, too.” Freya offers, her thoughts on a lot of things. Mostly on how guilty she feels.  

“Texture...the ah...macaroni? Is very chewy. Soft.” The octoling shuts her eyes, swallowing as she stews in the experience she just had. “I am, um...starting to feel full already.” 

“UH? Already? You’ve only had a few bites?” Three says bewilderedly, her eyes bugging out. “Did you guys not eat a lot under...his reign?”

When Jeanne shakes her head no, Freya feels something like anger bubble up in the pit of her stomach. “We were told to ration our food, in case we were isolated somewhere remote.” She says, poking at more of the noodles. “Do inklings...not have to do that?”

“...No. We don’t.”

“Oh.”

That’s it. Oh. Nothing else. 

The rest of the meal is in silence. Freya doesn’t have much of an appetite anymore.  

- 🦑 -

It’s later in the day when the girls finally decide, fuck it. It’s time for some groceries. The two head into Prawnford, ready to tackle the day. 

Freya swaps out her usual look - Forge Inkling Parka, shorts - for something more suited to the town. She shrugs on her Takoroka Windcrusher, unzipped with her 8-bit FishFry tee beneath it. The agent keeps her usual Cuttlegear headset on, but she does swap out her combat boots for a pair of Sesame Salt 270s for the day. It's a pretty special occasion, after all - might as well enact some more change to her routine.

As for Jeanne, Three gives her plenty of options for outfits. The octoling picks out a pair of flip flops, some square framed glasses, and an Octoking HK Jersey. Freya doesn’t even remember buying most of these clothes - but that’s what happens when you’ve been in the turf war game for about two years. 

The girls walk down the street, Freya locking the door and gate behind her as they leave. She tucks a recycled tote bag beneath her right arm. The half painted trees sway in the light breeze. Their still green leaves drift to the ground, untrampled by passersby. 

Jeanne suddenly stops on the sidewalk, causing Freya to bump into her from behind. 

“Uh. What’s up?” 

The octoling looks up, the shifting shadows of the leaves silhouetting her face. The warm sunbeams of the early afternoon peek through, barely touching her face. 

“It is warm,” Jeanne says simply, shutting her eyes as she soaks in the feeling. “Very warm.”  

She doesn’t say much else, taking a slow step out of the shade. 

The sun greets her, its beams extending a soft 'welcome to the surface' to her. Freya can tell this is a big moment for Eight, so she doesn't interrupt. Time practically stands still for this experience.

After a brief moment, Jeanne murmurs a hushed 'thank you' to no one in particular. Freya feels her hand tugged as Eight's steady hand envelops hers. 

"I am ready now," she murmurs, waiting for Three to lead the way. 

"Um! Uh, yeah-" Freya sputters, unable to say anything cohesive. She can feel her heart pounding rapidly. "Sorry, I, uh, I'm- Let's go!" 

With Jeanne hand in hand, Freya walks down the streets of Prawnford. In the light of day, motor bikes bustle through the streets. Stores have set up their wares in some places, stretching booths into the street. One place a block away has freshly picked vegetables lined up on a table beneath a set up canopy. From outside, the girls can see ten or so people examining the wares. For a small store, it seems very well put together. 

"Groceries, they are vegetables?" Jeanne's voice rings out behind Three as the two stop at a street intersection's corner, watching for traffic. 

"Yes, and no. There's fruits, veggies, meat, wheat...a ton of stuff out there." A sleek motorcycle with a beautiful redheaded Inkling woman on it drives down the street, letting the girls have a chance to pass. "Hold on, okay?" Freya finds herself saying, holding on to Jeanne's hand a little tighter as they cross. 

"Wheat, what is it?" Safely on the other side of the intersection, Jeanne stops once more to look around. 

"It's like the pasta we had for breakfast. Farmers grow and harvest wheat, people mill it down into flour, and cooks make pasta from the flour." Freya can't find it in her to complain at the laidback pace they're taking. Prawnford is beautiful, and stopping occasionally lets her add more things to the shopping list. "There's also dairy, which people use for all sorts of stuff. I'm going to have to learn to cook some more so you can try more things." 

Jeanne's head swivels in her direction at that. 

"Really?" She says, a wavering tone in her voice. 

It makes Three's stomach flutter. 

"Yeah, really. I needed to learn to cook more healthy as it is - plus, you deserve being able to eat what you want. After Kamabo, you've definitely earned it." 

Something flashes across Eight's face - a purplish blush? - but before Freya can distinguish it, she's being hugged tightly. 

Freya cries out as she's suddenly embraced, her head spinning as she tries to process what's going on. The collar of her FishFry tee warms up, making Three wheeze a little.

"Thank you! Thank you, Freya. You are so kind - so I am grateful." 

"Yu- yeah! Yeah, it's what I, uh- um, what I do. Jeanne, um…" 

Wait, holy shit, we're in public… 

Freya gives Jeanne a light hug, then lets go. "We, uh, we've got to get going before the stores close!" She hesitantly holds her hand out, offering it so Jeanne can take it if she wishes. 

Of course, being in a new place with a different culture, the octoling takes it with confidence. 

"We must!" She chimes out, a big smile on her face. Freya’s stomach does a flip. 

"Well then, let's try that store for veggies." 

The two agents carry on on their mission, greeting the shopkeeper as they enter. A set of shelves behind the register hold specific wares - alcohol and tobacco, the two things Freya isn't fond of. A fridge holds bundles of fresh tortillas, wrapped in stacks and differentiated into the corn and flour varieties. Freya grabs a pack of flour tortillas, already thinking of dishes she could make with this. 

When she turns around, Jeanne is nose deep into the chip shelf. She closely examines the ingredients on each bag, trying to discern the varieties. 

"Jeanne, grab whatever piques your interest." There. She's said it. Freya has given the go ahead for the octoling to explore. 

"I want these," Jeanne decides. She hands Freya a bag of shrimp chips, then a bag of sour cream and onion potato chips. She then disappears into the shelf housing different shapes of pasta. 

The shopkeeper - an older woman - chuckles. "Looks like she doesn't get out often. Got a good head on her shoulders though, right Frey'?" 

"Yeah, she's...she's really nice." Freya admits. "Anything new come in?" 

"Mm, eggplant, okra, bell peppers...the watermelons are almost ripe, but not quite." 

"Oh, thanks. I was wondering when they'd come in. I might take Jeanne to the beach to smash one." 

"Ahhhh, going old world? Not a bad plan, though. I might get the girls together to give it a shot...must be nice, to be young." The shopkeeper sighs wistfully. 

Freya bites down the urge to ask how old the shopkeeper is, exactly. 

"Freya, look!" Jeanne's voice calls out, giving Three the out she needs. 

"I'm nabbing this," Freya says as she leaves her tortillas and chips at the counter before she goes to check on her friend. The shopkeeper just nods knowingly, a grin on her face. 

"Jeanne, everything cool?" 

"Yes! Look!" The octoling's hand holds out a box of farfalle. "It is like a bow!" 

Freya feels her heart clench, but in the way her stomach flutters and her throat tightens. "Yeah, it is. You wanna get it?" 

"Yes please! And this, of shell shapes!" 

"Got it." Two boxes of pasta join the groceries, making Freya think about sauce. "Mm...let's get some tomatoes, too." 

"Yes!" Jeanne encourages. "Tomatoes!"

Freya can feel the shopkeeper's teasing gaze without even having to look. She pointedly picks out the desired produce from the selection without looking in the register's direction. "Oh, can you get onions Jeanne? The big yellow circular veggies. Just make sure there's no weird black spots on them."

"I will!" She calls out, scanning the produce on display. It's a good thing most of them are labeled with little handmade signs. Eight's steady hand rifles through the onions, occasionally picking one up to study it. 

Satisfied, Freya moves on to her next task: herbs and spices. When she's tired after work - which is, admittedly, almost every day - the agent just cooks up her go to meal of instant mac and cheese. When she actually has energy, though, she does at least try. Pulling up her grocery list on her phone, Three skips to her herb section. 

Peppercorns, thyme, laurel, rosemary...they all are added to Freya's tote bag. The agent even splurges today - a new little grinder filled with pink salt joins the ensemble. Self care. 

Jeanne returns with three onions, meticulously scrutinized and compared with the rest of them. 

"Good job," Freya murmurs. Her heart feels warm, oddly enough. 

She looks so...proud.  

"I am glad! I made sure there were no spots." 

"I can see that. Well, I think we're done here...let's go pay and we can move on, yeah?" 

"Yes!" 

As they pay for their goods, Freya can't stop smiling - even when the shopkeeper gives her a knowing look. 

-🦑🤝🐙- 

The duo are walking home in the afternoon with plenty of goods in tow when they cross paths with Akila and a short inkling girl with yellow hair. The taller of the two gasps in surprise, waving with a big smile on her face. 

“Hello there! You two need help with those?” Akila offers, her voice a nice lower soprano.  It's a little odd to see her out of her agent gear. She has a varsity jacket with the Great Zapfish on it, along with a pair of slip on shoes. “We were going to check up on Nanna Hiyoko, so we’re heading that way anyway.” 

“You two know Miss Hiyoko?” Freya asks, raising an orange eyebrow. “I didn’t know you knew her.”

The shorter girl pipes up, a big sincere smile on her face. “She’s super nice! Mom and Dad’s bakery are pretty close to it, so I’ve known her as long as I’ve been alive!” 

“Bakery?” Jeanne asks, testing the word on her tongue. 

“They make things with wheat,” Three supplies. She turns to Akila, locking eyes as she side glances to her little friend. She asks a silent question - who’s this?  

Four catches on very quickly. “Oh, almost forgot my manners! This is Honey. I’ve known her for about three years now, but I barely moved into Inkopolis on my own like two weeks ago. We’re totally living it up.”

“Name: Honey Cajeta! Age: 16! Occupation: proud battler of the Hurricane Howlers! Though we’re still new, so we don’t have a lot of fans. Nice to meet you! Aki told me that you guys met yesterday.” The kid grins, her hands held behind her. 

Freya gets to scrutinizing. 

The girl is short - though just by watching her, Freya can tell she’s training hard. Honey wears a Positive Longcuff Sweater, paired with a set of Acerola Rain Boots. A squid shaped hair clip Freya recognizes from school uniforms sits atop her head, nestled within light yellow tentacles that go down to neck length. The kid also has a skort on - fashionable, yet serves its function. Freya approves. 

“Nice to meet ya, kid. This is Jeanne. I’m Freya. We’re next door neighbors of Miss Panuko.” Three holds her free hand out, to which Honey gladly shakes. 

“Oh, cool! Do you two live together, then? That must be neat. Like a sleepover every day, right?”

Freya bites down the urge to say they don’t live together - but it wouldn’t be true, and she knows it. “It’s nice. I let Jeanne have the bed. We’ve yet to have any disputes, so we’re just vibing.”

Akila smiles gently, making Freya almost wonder if the agent knows something she doesn’t. Or...maybe she’s just smiley? But Akila didn’t seem like a particularly smiley person to Freya. “That’s wonderful. I know Jeanne just moved into Prawnford, and while you guys just were out, I was wondering if you’d want to go hang out? It’s a bit sudden, but I think it’d be nice to help Jeanne get her bearings.” 

Huh?  

Freya feels something twinge in her gut - some feeling she doesn’t want to name. “Oh, right now? We’ve got to put groceries away, then I plan on taking a big fucking nap. I dunno if Jeanne wants to go, though.” She looks in the octoling’s direction, who has a big smile on her face. “Jeanne, you want to walk around Inkopolis?” 

“Yes! I would love to. Will you be joining?” Jeanne asks sincerely, and the feeling only intensifies. 

Oh my Cod, you’re jealous. But you shouldn’t be? She’s a free woman, she can do what she wants. Let her go, Frey’. Don’t be an Octavio. At that, Freya makes up her mind. 

“I would, but I think I wanna make dinner so you have something when you get back. Plus, you should go explore! I’m just one chick, so I’d just take you to the same places since I don’t get out much.” 

Eight’s face makes an odd expression. She ponders the decision, but then nods. “I will take plenty of pictures! To show you later.” 

“Cool,” Freya manages, a shy smile creeping onto her face. Since when did she smile like that? Freya Rán does not smile shyly. 

“Awesome! I’m so excited to show our new friend around Inkopolis!” Honey pipes up, cheering with Akila. The taller inkling laughs. 

“We’ll take good care of her, Freya. Don’t worry,” Akila says. The girl looks different out of her agent gear, but Freya can’t complain. She rocks the look. 

“...Alright, I’ll leave her in your capable hands. Be safe, you three.” 

“Yay! Girl time, girl time!” The two inkling girls chant, easily sweeping up Jeanne in a celebratory fashion. As they leave, Jeanne waves, a big smile on her face. 

Freya feels her heart constrict - but in a good way. 

- 🦑 -

Agent Three treks the last block or two with her groceries in tow without difficulty. Miss Panuko’s home is dark, which means she’s at the restaurant today. It’s only late afternoon after all - while Hiyoko is old, it doesn’t mean she’s one to waste time or energy. 

Freya makes it to her house gate, sighing as she realizes the trial ahead of her. A full tote bag of food, two recyclable bags filled to the brim with bread Jeanne liked the smell of, a strong plastic bag holding a gallon of lactose-free milk and some assorted cheeses, and two (2) hands to try to open the door to her comfy abode without dropping literally fucking everything. 

She places her tote bag on the ground along with the plastic one as she fishes her house keys out of her Windcrusher’s inside pocket. Holding the two upright with her legs while being careful not to crush the carefully wrapped bread in her arm, Freya swears she’s getting a bigger bag next time. The gate swings open and Three nudges the bag of dairy into her property with her foot, praying to any possible god or fax machine out there that she can get her things into the house before sunrise. 

The tote gets swung in, then Freya swings the gate shut behind her. One hurdle down, one to go. 

After more than enough struggle to get her things inside, Freya flops onto the couch.

This is for Jeanne, she tells herself. 

She didn’t even put the things away. She should do that for the dairy, at least - but fuck it, she’ll wait five minutes to catch her breath. 

Three sits alone. 

It dawns on her just quiet the place is, alone like this. 

She realizes the silence unnerves her. Freya can’t take it anymore. 

The agent takes the bag of dairy goods, shoving the whole bag into her sparsely filled refrigerator. She then nabs the remote and turns on the tv, leaving it on the news channel as she heads into her room. 

Freya takes two steps and nearly trips over a pair of high heeled boots, likely Jeanne’s, but on Cod, this kid is on a mission. The girl finally throws herself onto the bed, breathing out a sigh as the comfort of the mattress envelops her. 

“Cod, I missed you, bed. It’s only been a day but I missed ya.” 

The bed, of course, does not reply, because it is a bed. 

The events of the day already weigh on Freya’s heart, making her check her phone before she drifts off. 

Nothing from Jeanne, nor Miss Panuko or Captain Cuttlefish. Not even Callie or Marie. They must be excited to have their grandpa back in town after three months, after all. She doesn’t feel like bugging her sisters-in-arms.

It dawns on Three that she hasn’t gotten Jeanne a house key. She swears internally, trying very hard to not call herself stupid. Freya shoots Jeanne a quick ‘call me when you get home’ message and turns her phone’s sound on, before finally letting herself drift off to sleep. 

The bedsheets, oddly enough, smell like the sun. 

- 🦑🦑🦑 -

■Webmaster■ > Agent 1 has joined the chatroom.

Agent 1 > gramps!!!!!!!!! gramps oh my COD im gonna yell!!!!!!! 

Agent 1 > gramps holy FUCK!!!!!!! 

■Webmaster■ > Agent 2 has joined the chatroom.

Agent 2 > Oh thank Cod I’m not the only one with eyes. You saw it too, right? 

Agent 2 > I’m not the only one who sees Freya and the octo girl Yearning? 

Agent 1 > they are SO Yearning omg!!!!!!! 

■Webmaster■ > CraigCuttlefish has joined the chatroom.

CraigCuttlefish > yearning

CraigCuttlefish > ? 

Agent 1 >  TOTALLY!!!! arent they super cute????

Agent 1 >  like you get what we mean, gramps??

CraigCuttlefish > i love you both so much but

CraigCuttlefish > you are both so full of beans 

Agent 2 > LOL 

Agent 1 > LMAOOOOOOO

Agent 2 > Either way, Gramps, what do you think about them? 

Agent 2 > I mean like, we all already know Freya totally needs a housemate. 

Agent 2 > But. 

Agent 1 > buuuuuuuuuuuuuut

CraigCuttlefish > but

Agent 2 > I think. Freya could use a girlfriend.

Agent 2 > Or like, literally anybody. You know how she is. 

Agent 1 > moody and broody

CraigCuttlefish > agent 3 is a good soldier

CraigCuttlefish > but she does tend to get reckless

Agent 1 > plus, like…..

Agent 1 > you remember what happened to her last year

Agent 1 > i think she needs to Cope

Agent 2 > Cod, yeah. 

Agent 2 > I think all of us need to cope, too. Not just Three. 

Agent 1 > yea……

Agent 1 > tho i’m sure you’re coping super well arentcha marie? 👀

CraigCuttlefish > 👀

CraigCuttlefish > youve yet to tell me about akila agent two 

Agent 2 > oh my cod

Agent 2 > uh

Agent 2 > so,

Agent 2 > Akila is really pretty 

Agent 1 > no DUH 

Agent 1 > but we wanna know if you’ve SMOOCHED her yet

CraigCuttlefish > 👀

Agent 2 >  y

Agent 2 >  yes,

Agent 1 > OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

CraigCuttlefish > im so glad you found someone, agent two  

Agent 2 > oh my cod

Agent 1 > you two are MAD cute marie!!!!!!

Agent 2 > you guuuuys this isn’t about me

Agent 1 > but it’s so CUTEEEEEE

Agent 1 > like omg!!!!! you guys really did just. have a whirlwind romance didnt you

Agent 1 > two girls……..fighting against the octarian menace to save your cousin!!!

Agent 1 > how romantic………….

CraigCuttlefish > it does remind me of those hallmark movies

CraigCuttlefish > but better

Agent 2 > ANYWAY. I just think that Freya and Jeanne are totally Yearning

Agent 2 > Like. Just look at them. 

Agent 2 > 

Agent 1 > OH MY CODDDD THEY’RE YEARNING

Agent 1 > It’s All About the Yearning

CraigCuttlefish > ah. I understand now

CraigCuttlefish > Yearning

Agent 2 > It’s All About the Yearning. 

Agent 1 > we’re totally getting them together, right?

Agent 2 > Would I have taken a candid pic of them if I WASN’T plotting to get them together? 

Agent 1 > YOU RIGHT

Agent 2 > First plan of action: getting them to know each other.

Agent 2 > If we drag them to enough places together, Freya HAS to figure out that she’s Yearning, right?

Agent 1 > yea, but like. Where do we take them. 

Agent 1 > we’re not exactly love doctors marie

CraigCuttlefish > she’s right

CraigCuttlefish > though i do know someplace they might like

CraigCuttlefish > let’s decorate the shack 

Agent 1 > ooooooo? do i smell a romantic picnic under the stars?  

Agent 2 > i don’t know how i feel about the idea of gramps organizing something romantic

Agent 1 > ok me neither BUT 

Agent 1 > DO IT FOR FREYANNE

Agent 2 > Freyanne. 

Agent 1 > Freya and Jeanne DUH

CraigCuttlefish > if anything we should do it for Agent Three’s mental health

CraigCuttlefish > she’s gone through a lot in Kamabo

CraigCuttlefish > and so has Eight

CraigCuttlefish > i think we should at least try

Agent 1 > exactly!!!! So on three let’s go team freyanne

Agent 1 > 1

Agent 1 > 2

Agent 1 > 3 TEAM FREYANNE

CraigCuttlefish > team freyanne

Agent 2 > Cod, fine. Team Freyanne. 

Agent 1 > YAY MARIEEEE

Agent 1 > anyway let’s break, i’ve got to get some food

Agent 2 > Yeah, I have to go prep for some splatfest matches in a week. OTH told me they were expecting one soon. 

CraigCuttlefish > i remember my first splatfest

CraigCuttlefish > hopefully everything goes well 

Agent 2 > It will. How crazy can these things get? 

Agent 2 > Jeanne will be fine. 

Agent 1 > OH CRAP WHAT THEME IS IT

Agent 2 > I don’t know??? They never tell you before the fax machine spits out the theme. 

Agent 1 > oh rightttt

Agent 1 > anyway later you two!!!!!! A galactic schwaffle out there has my name on it

Agent 2 > Later Cal. Later Gramps. 

■Webmaster■ > Agent 2 has left the chatroom.

■Webmaster■ > Agent 1 has left the chatroom.

CraigCuttlefish > see you two later

- 🦑💤 -

Freya is woken abruptly from her light yet restful sleep by the VRRRRRR of her phone clattering on the bedside table. Splattack plays loudly, making the inkling groan as she reluctantly checks it. Jeanne’s name, 7:56 PM, and 23% battery greet her. 

With a sleepy finger, Three fumbles to hit the take call button. 

“Yuh. Whassup,” she slurs as she half-yawns, stretching out on the bed. 

“Freya! You have missed out on a lot of fun, but I took pictures for you! Akila and I are outside waiting for you to open the door. Say hello, Akila!” Jeanne’s chipper voice buzzes over the phone. 

“Haha, hi Freya. I felt like walking Jeanne home, hope that’s cool!” 

“Oh man, that’s mega cool. I appreciate it. Prawnford is a quiet town, but you always gotta be careful.” Three blinks languidly. “D’you wanna...come in?”

“Aww, I think we woke her up. She must’ve been sleeping,” Akila half whispers to Jeanne, the two giggling. “Uh, yeah! We’d love to!” 

“But I do not have a house key!” Jeanne says with a smile in her voice. 

That makes Freya jet up in bed. 

“OH, SHIT. I FORGOT, SORRY. Coming out now.” She quickly hangs up, but not without hearing the two laugh out a ‘no no it’s all good, really’.

Freya shifts into squid form to wriggle her way out of the sheets - and quickly regrets it.

“What’s that-” feeling?

As she shifts back out into humanoid form, her face flares up with pain again. 

It burns like it did when Jeanne touched it, but in a different way and much, much worse. 

It’s almost like a chemical burn all the way to her retinas, like an ink burn, like all the ink burns she’s ever gotten on her legs from running around impatiently in enemy ink. 

She can’t help but double over at it, gripping at her face with immense desperation. Freya’s fingers search for something, anything that could indicate why - but she doesn’t find anything aside from her lightly abraded skin. Her hands then scramble to put pressure on her head, trying to force the pain to dissipate. 

It should’ve gone away. 

The way her body works is, after some time in her own ink, the physical wounds go away. The ones that don’t scar like her throat’s slash wound or her legs’ continuous ink burn, anyway. No matter which way she looks at it, Freya doesn’t understand why this particular one hurts so much. 

After a brief moment on the carpeted ground of her bedroom, Freya drags herself to her feet. 

“No time to rest,” she groans to herself as she leans against the wall. “Gotta...get it together.” 

The feeling, without a doubt in Freya’s mind, SUCKS. It’s like she’s being held underwater, yet over a flame at the same time, and while that alone is bad, it feels like her head is going to split right open. As Freya stumbles out of the bedroom, she makes a pit stop to her bathroom sink. 

She breathes heavily as she grips onto the sink, a shaky hand turning on the water. 

Cold. Cold will fix it. Cold always fixes it, right?

One second passes, then two. Freya’s hands cup together, collecting as much water as she can before splashing the whole affair on her face. 

The frigid shock knocks the wind out of her for a minute, making her gasp for air - but the pain surprisingly lessens. She wheezes a little as she holds onto the sink for support, occasionally dabbling some more water on her face with a free hand. 

Slowly, Freya looks up at her reflection as she finally gets her second wind. 

Her blue eyes stare back at her, knitted up in pain, but otherwise fine. The skin around her right eye seems...worse for wear. It looks bristly. Maybe she got the wound infected? Or she has the flu? 

Deep down, she knows it isn’t something as trivial as the flu, but for peace of mind, Three makes herself believe she’s just coming down with something. She splashes another round of water onto her face. “Ugh…” 

At last stable enough to stand without falling over, Freya makes her way outside. She swears as she remembers she left Akila and Jeanne waiting. 

The front door creaks open as Three tries her best to look like she didn’t just go through something akin to hell on earth. Taking steps as steady as she possibly can, Freya makes it to the gate where the two agents are chatting. 

“- and since then, I’ve sort of sang since. People still don’t know that the voice at night in the square is me… It’s kind of embarrassing.” Akila’s stern voice speaks, making Freya hold herself up higher to try to pretend she’s fine. 

“Voice? You some sort of song ghost?” Freya asks as she makes it to the gate, swinging the door open. “What up.” 

“Freya! We were beginning to think you fell asleep again,” Jeanne giggles. Freya’s heart involuntarily flutters. Her hair’s different - pulled into a short braid that ends in the middle of her back. “But you are here! Very good. I am glad!” 

“Wh- yeah? You are? That’s...sweet. Well, come on in. Don’t wanna make you freeze out here.” The inkling steps out of the way, leaning on the gate door to keep it open. “And you, Akila? You gonna come in too?”

“Ah, I was! But I’ve gotta head back home before the last subway train to Inkopolis Square. I don’t wanna miss it.” Akila tucks a shorter tentacle behind her shoulder as she talks, a light blue blush on her face. “Thanks, though! Jeanne was super sweet. She was really excited as she was taking in the sights.”

“Oh, nice. That’s super cool of you to do, by the way. And um, will you be safe going back on your own? Prawnford is pretty safe, but…”

“Ah, don’t worry! I’m strapped.” Akila winks as she pats the front of her jacket, the motion showing the outline of her NSS shooter. “So you don’t gotta worry!”

“Holy shit. Cool...” A thought surfaces in the back of Freya’s head, spurring her to say it aloud. “Do you...want to hang out tomorrow? I don’t have any plans.” 

“Tomorrow?” Akila asks, looking upwards as she thinks on her social calendar. “I don’t think I have anything lined up. If you’re down, I’m totally up for it!” 

“Really? Alright. Let’s totally hang out tomorrow then. Know any good cafes?”

“Yep! I know the best one. I’ll send you the address when I get on the train, okay?”

“Hell yeah. See you around, Akila.” Freya pauses for a moment. “And, um...thanks. For showing Jeanne around today.”

The bluenette turns around as she’s starting to head out, her lilac eyes blinking in surprise. A smile quickly comes across her face. “Of course. Anytime, Freya. See you tomorrow!” Waving with one hand, Akila walks back to the Prawnford station. 

Freya waits until Four disappears around the corner, then closes the gate at last. She checks the mailbox, finding her usual junkmail as she heads back inside. 

Three finds Jeanne waiting impatiently at the table, a big smile on her face. She pats the table with a hand, opening her phone with the other. 

"Haha, hold on. Let me get the water for dinner going first. You're probably hungry, right?" At Freya's question, Jeanne's stomach betrays her and grumbles aloud. "Ah, thought so."

"I cannot help it! I had so much fun today! Both with you buying the groceries, and with Akila and Honey exploring Inkopolis!" Jeanne's face is delighted, her eyes following Freya as the inkling grabs her trusty mac and cheese pot and begins to fill it with water. "You were sleeping, yes? You look like you are still tired." 

"Mm, yeah. I had a migraine earlier." Half truth. "I feel kind of better, though." 

"I am glad! You work very hard, Freya. I want to work hard, too." 

The stove clicks on. Freya's stovetop burner roars to life, warming her torso a bit. The pot goes atop the crown of flames.

Three finally joins Jeanne at the table, a quiet sigh escaping her. "So, what did you wanna show me?" She grins, making the octoling pat the table excitedly again. 

"I have pictures! A few 'shellfies', as Honey called them. But I like pictures." Jeanne opens her gallery, sliding the phone over to her housemate. "Honey has a sea slug! She says her name is Flour, and she is a rescue. We saw her at the bakery." 

A little ball of fluff is on the screen with some small antennae indicating the subject of the photo isn't some large dust bunny. Flour sits in a basket with a warm blanket draped along the insides, sitting atop a counter. She must be the mascot or something. Freya looks at the sea slug intently, nodding her head to show she's still listening. The fluff…so cute...

"She is a...rescue? Yes! And cannot see. But she smells very good so she can get around easily. Flour is very adorable." 

"Yeah, the little fur ball looks super at home. Nobody complains about it?" 

"No! While I was there, everyone was very sweet. I think they all like her. Honey says they live above the bakery, too! That is so cool!" 

Freya can't help but smile as Jeanne talks on, chattering about her day, occasionally showing her housemate a picture she took on her phone. As the water on the stove eventually roars into a boil, Three goes to pour the dry pasta in while still making it clear that she's listening. 

This is...nice.  

There's something soothing about this. Jeanne talking about her day, Freya making a low effort meal that they'll likely eat on the couch as they watch TV. 

This feels right.  

As she looks around though, there's a thing that's been bugging her.

"You know, I've been thinking about redecorating," Freya admits. "This place looks kind of bland, with practically nothing on the walls. Don't you think so?"

"I like it! Though I think I understand what you mean." Jeanne pauses. "Oh! Could we get a record player?!" 

"A record player?" Freya repeats. 

"Yes! I saw one in the window of a store. It looked like a white flower, but it was playing music! I thought it was very beautiful." 

A thought dawns on Freya. 

"You know what? Sure. Let's go get one sometime. Hopefully we can get the same one you saw. You remember what place you saw it at?" 

Jeanne thinks hard, eyes shutting as she combs through her memory. "Mm...I think I do."

"Cool. We can see how much it is tomorrow, if you feel like going into town again. I'm going to ask Akila a few questions when we meet up tomorrow." 

"Akila?" Jeanne tilts her head questioningly. "Why questions?" 

Totally not because I want to make sure she won't break Marie's heart.  

"I just wanna get to know her, that's all. She seems cool." It's the truth. Kind of a half truth, but Akila has Freya's respect all the same. "You want to come with?" 

"Yes! I want to go see Off the Hook at the studio as well!" 

Bringing up Off the Hook makes her brain's gears turn. If Marina is as well-versed in tech like everyone says, she just might ask her a few questions as well. "I think I'd like to see them too. Man, I've gotta get my schedule for the week together…" 

Ding. The timer for Freya's mac and cheese goes off. She goes through the rest of the motions for dinner and before long, two bowls of food are laid out at the table. Freya grabs a loaf of French bread, carving three slices off it. 

"You liked the smell of the bread, so I thought you should give it a try. Give it a shot like that, and I'll put this other chunk in the toaster." A soft slice gets placed delicately onto a napkin next to Jeanne's plate. 

"Oh! Thank you." 

The toaster clicks to life and Freya sits down once more. The two begin to eat. 

"Bread...this is soft. Texture is not like macaroni and cheese." Jeanne chews thoughtfully. "Edge is firmer...crispy? This is nice." 

"It is? I'm glad." 

"Oh, Freya…" Jeanne puts her piece of bread down, clearing her throat. 

"Yeah?"

"I, um… I know I said this before, but I mean it. Thank you for allowing me to live here." The octoling bows her head, an unmistakable reddish purple color blazing across her cheeks. "I did not want to take advantage of Pearl and Marina's kindness...or yours, either. But you are very kind to bring me in here. 

Freya's face heats up. 

"You're very sweet, Jeanne." She can't help but feel fluttery inside. She's more than certain her face is covered with the tangerine tinge she's been sporting the past 48 hours. "Don't worry...you're not taking advantage of me. I've had to make some changes to my lifestyle as it is." 

Before Jeanne, I barely even got other kinds of groceries…

"But…"

"No, it's the truth. If I didn't take you in, I would've just ended up eating nothing but instant stuff for the rest of my life. I'm...glad you moved in." 

Jeanne's eyes water, red-purple tears bubbling up. "You mean that?" 

"Of course." 

The octoling smiles sincerely, taking another bite of bread. "...Thank you."

-🦑-

Following their heavy dinner, Jeanne managed to stay awake for half of an episode of Slug Whisperers before sleep took her. 

Her slumbering form slumps over the left side of the couch, her phone hanging precariously from her grip. Freya is almost grateful that the floor has such an old carpet; phone screens cab fall face down on it without cracking. 

As gently as she can without waking her housemate, Freya pries herself out of the couch. She considers getting a blanket for Jeanne, but...that must not be as comfortable as the bed. 

Which means she’s going to have to carry her housemate if she doesn’t want to directly wake her up. Waking Jeanne up after a long day is absolutely off the list. The trial ahead of her is clearly not stacked in her favor...but she just wants Jeanne to rest well. Sleeping wrong on this couch has always resulted in sore muscles in the morning. 

Mustering up as much courage as possible, Freya reaches to first pluck Jeanne’s cell phone out of her dangling hand. As she pulls, the octoling’s hand twitches and almost tightens on the device - but Freya halts just long enough for the muscles to slack and yoink it the rest of the way. 

Step one complete. 

Carefully setting the phone down on the empty space she left on the couch, Freya now moves on to the next step: transferring Jeanne to the bedroom without making a ruckus. 

Before she even thinks about trying to move her housemate, Freya takes initiative and turns on the bedroom light to remove obstacles. She tripped over those high heeled boots of Jeanne’s earlier - who knows what would happen if she did it again while carrying her? 

She’d absolutely kill you and you know it, Frey’.

Three cautiously rearranges the belongings left on the carpeted floor, from the aforementioned boots, to the abominable ink tank that created the sizable scar on Eight’s back. As she picks it up, she can tell why Jeanne was so careless in disposing of it. The straps are practically clawed off to the point where it’s held together by strands - probably from an attempt to get rid of it during testing - and the hidden compartment beneath the tank itself is stained a disgusting and unnatural blend of blue and green. 

Looking at it makes Freya feel sick. Scowling, she kicks the tank into the closet and dumps some of her untouched laundry on top of it. 

She’d dispose of it in a more permanent manner if it was hers - but it’s not. Three settles for at least having it somewhere a little out of the way until Jeanne can get her own ink tank here on the surface. 

As Freya checks once more before attempting a bed transfer, she nearly steps on a little box. “Shit SHIT you almost crushed it-” she swears quietly, picking it up. The top has something written in Octa. Freya squints as she tries to dig up the limited amount of Octa she knows to see if she can even understand it. 

The letters ‘bonajn sojyoine’ stare back at her, making the gears in Freya’s head turn. 

“‘Bonajn’ is close to ‘bona’ ... So it’s something close to ‘good.’ I don’t recognize 'sojyoine’ at all. This is probably something too personal to look inside without asking...” Freya simply places the weathered box onto the bedside table. Curiosity gnaws at her, but she’s not an asshole. She won’t cross that boundary without permission. 

The floor looks clear enough now. Freya picked up the clothes Jeanne changed out of once she got situated, trying to gently fold the leather before lowering her expectations and getting them stacked onto her dresser in a pile. With enough potential hazards out of the way, Three takes a deep breath. 

Two years in the service of the New Squidbeak Splatoon, and nothing has prepared her for this moment. None of her training, combat experience, or her social connections ever asked something like this of Agent Three. None of it! 

An orange blush blankets Freya’s cheeks as she hypes herself up to get this done at last. What if Jeanne wakes up with a sore neck tomorrow because she didn’t get her in a bed sooner? She’d be sore all day.

That thought process finally spurs some action from Three. Hands trembling, Three’s left arm hooks beneath Jeanne’s knees. As she lifts, her right arm goes to support her head so she doesn’t loll around. 

Jeanne makes a little sound like a sigh and a yawn fused together, nestling against Freya as she lifts a bit higher. Three freezes in place.

Ah fuck ah fuck ah fuck ah FUCK SHE’S WAKING UP? WHILE I’M TRYING TO CARRY HER? Wait, wait she’s readjusting. Oh thank god.  

The collar of Three’s t-shirt heats up from the scare, making her take a deep breath to steady herself. Freya takes a cautious first step. Then a second. Her feet carry her as her mind takes a back seat. 

She stops when she reaches the side of the bed at last. Three had enough brain cells still functioning to at least pull the covers back to let her friend be comfortable, thankfully. She kneels down slightly, trying not to admit to feeling almost like a noble she’s read about in fairy tales. Jeanne is gently laid onto the bed, the octoling blissfully asleep and unaware of the internal struggle her housemate just went through. 

As Freya pulls the covers over her, a feeling bubbles out of her mind that makes her throat clench up. 

She looks pretty.  

Three almost swears aloud as soon as the thought makes itself known, covering her embarrassed face with a hand - but no one is there to see it. She feels stupid. 

Cod, get to bed already. You’re being ridiculous.

Once she’s certain Jeanne is comfortable, Freya flicks the light off in the room and returns to her post on the couch. She leaves the door to the bedroom open a crack, and triple checks the front door to ensure it’s locked. 

Slug Whisperer is over. It took a little under thirty minutes for Freya to get her shit in gear. Fronds is on the air now, making Three reach for the remote with a grimace. 

She clicks between a few of her usual channels, unable to really pick. She settles on a rerun episode of 9-1-1: Aquarin . The show is supposedly fictional, but the scenes look fairly realistic. The story follows a plucky inkling woman who is in charge of one of Aquarin’s fire departments. She’s accompanied by a few odd faces: from a quirky sea snail firefighter to a jellyfish pharmacist who bends the rules for those in need, even an incredibly cool sharkling 9-1-1 operator. 

Freya can’t help but like the spinoff. This series is clearly unlike any of the ones from the human era of the world, yet it feels familiar enough. Satisfied with her choice of television program, Freya lies down on the couch. 

She thinks. 

Jeanne has already been a huge influence on her. She’s changed up her lifestyle kind of drastically. Before Eight, Freya would just wake up, go into Inkopolis for NSS stuff, occasionally get something to eat, then head back to Prawnford and head straight home for some sleep. She’s never done something as big as think about interior design before, for crying out loud! Home was the place she would let her battleworn body rest, and the place her belongings were stored. 

It wasn’t seen as a place she could feel at ease at before, she realizes. 

But things are different now. You’re different, her internal voice chimes in. 

Things are different, yes. But not unadaptable. 

Freya pulls her blanket over her form as she watches the inkling firefighter think her way through a time sensitive scenario.

So adapt. Overcome. You are stronger than you think.

At rest for now, Freya drifts off to sleep once more. 

Chapter Text

The sun rises over another day in Inkopolis Square. 

Streets away from the bustling hub of cephalopod culture, a bakery embroidered with a dainty bee theme cooks away as the morning rush at last dies down. 

Inside, several circular tables with bar stool styled chairs line the edge of the wall. Directly in front of the doorway stands the counter, which cuts off halfway to the left to showcase various pastries in a glass display. Behind the counter stands a chalkboard declaring the day's specials. Potted plants decorate the counter, adding a touch of green to the mostly white and yellow interior of the bakery. 

Next to a meticulously cleaned window stretching from ceiling to tile, Freya and Akila sit down with cups of coffee. Freya chooses to ignore the exhaustion settling into her bones as she gets comfortable.

“I’m really glad you invited me out today! I was honestly hoping to get to know you better,” Akila starts. She idly stirs her coffee, the rich spiral of whipped cream slowly blending into her fancy cappuccino. “After I found out there were other members in the NSS, I wanted to meet them. Callie and Marie are sweet, but I want to get to know you and Jeanne better, too!” 

Freya looks down at her own cup, the simmering surface of black decaf staring back at her. She reaches for a shallow bowl of sugar packets, ripping open several to pour them in. Further into the bakery, she can smell roasted coffee beans and sweet bread being baked. 

“I get that. Once Captain told me there were some changes, I just had to see them. Being with the NSS for two years is definitely something, and if I’m not the only new one? It’s better.”

“Yeah...I get you.” Akila looks in the direction of the counter, where a pet bed is on the end furthest away from food products. A ball of fluff sits atop it, two little antennae poking out of the top. Jeanne stands next to it, her brown eyes entirely engrossed in the activities of this little sea slug. So that’s Flour, huh? “Anyway...I’m sure you didn’t just want to meet the new agent, right?” 

She’s sharp...but I’m not giving away why I’m here just yet.  

“Uhuh. I wanted to try this place. Jeanne brought it up yesterday. You said this place is owned by Honey’s parents?” Freya puffs gently at her cup of black coffee, knowing well enough she shouldn’t try to drink it right away. “What’s it like?”

“Oh, you know! I heard from Milk - Honey’s mom, by the way - that when they moved here, they wanted to have a place to bake for the world. Occasionally they’d give out baked goods to the needy. They’re very kind people.” Akila takes a sip of her cappuccino in a bold move, sighing contently as the aroma and taste hit her. “They treat me like one of their own since I’m an only child.”

“That so?” Freya can relate. She pops open a tiny canister of creamer, pouring it into her coffee. “How’d you two meet? Turfing, or something else?” 

“Oh, I’m Honey’s senior by two years. We met in grade school, in the choir. She wasn’t very good at it, and I wasn’t very confident in my singing abilities. We both dropped out of it but kept hanging out after.” Akila pauses, a flushed light blue hue present on her cheeks. 

“I’m kind of...still not all that confident in my singing ability, actually. Even after about two years.”
  

Stage fright? Or something else? Freya leans into the table, elbows propped up to stabilize her chin on her hands. “Really? I didn’t expect that from somebody like you.”

“Huh?” 

“Yeah, when I saw you at the meeting the day we came back to the surface, I thought you were pretty cool. You have the air of a fighter.” Freya cautiously peeks down at her cup, the steaming vapor still pouring out of it. Not yet. “So, your weakness is singing?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that! But I am pretty shy when it comes to singing in public…” Akila takes another sip of her cappuccino, sighing happily. “When I moved here - after we saved the Great  Zapfish, I mean - I would go up to the tower to practice singing. There’s something about the Zapfish that makes me feel more at home. Maybe it’s the warmth of it?” 

“Woah, wait, so you sing to the Great Zapfish as a practice partner? How have I not heard of this? It doesn’t, like, fly off when you get up there? How do you even get up there?” Freya’s jaw drops, suddenly feeling very boring in comparison to Akila. Jealousy creeps in.

“Oh! Um, so you know the corner closest to the cafe and the metro? There’s a maintenance ladder that reaches down close to the vending machines. It’s to clean up all the crap delinquents leave up there. But, um, what I do is I go up there with my stuff at night. Sometimes a melodica. But always a garbage bag to clean up the trash people leave behind, so that way the Zapfish doesn’t eat it. Then I practice.”

Akila quiets down a bit, a blush spreading across her face. “What I wasn’t expecting was...for people to actually hear me from up there. When I started my nightly practices, people started posting about hearing a voice singing. They said this and that, and I was mortified , but…”

“They liked what they heard,” Freya finishes for her. 

Four nods, shyly stirring her coffee. “They did. They called me a siren. An angel. After seeing all the comments, I kept going. People started like, filming on their phones from the ground level. They don’t go up there since they know the Zapfish is there. After a week, I’m called the Midnight Siren. It’s… honestly absolutely and entirely embarrassing, but it’s kind of nice. It’s nice to sing and be heard without...that pressure of being out in the open, you know?”

Freya nods, despite absolutely not knowing what that feels like at all. 

“So, yeah. That’s one of my nighttime hobbies now. Do you have any hobbies you do when you’re not on missions with the NSS?” Akila scratches her chin idly. Guess she’s a little self-conscious about talking so much.  

“Well, um…” Freya shuts her eyes as she thinks on it. 

Fuck, do I even HAVE hobbies? She suddenly can’t exactly pin down what she even does in her free time. I used to beat up Octavio a lot. He absolutely hated it, but he didn’t exactly refuse a challenge from me. What am I even doing with my time?

“I repair weapons sometimes...but that’s more because I play turf a lot. I go through at least three brushes when I play hardcore. Aside from that...I guess cooking? That’s a new hobby.” Even though I haven’t actually cooked anything new in a while…

“Oh! You’re learning to cook? That’s lovely, Freya!” Akila seems pleased, clasping her hands together almost like she’s in prayer. It suits her. “I’m guessing it’s because of your new living situation, right?”

The two of them look in the direction of a casually dressed Jeanne, who is speaking with an Inkling woman behind the register as she pets Flour. The woman has pale white ink and black eyes, clothed in an apron with the logo of the bakery emblazoned on it. The two talk amicably about Honey, unaware of the eyes on them. 

“Yeah. I want to make sure Jeanne can really feel alive up here. It’s only been a few days, but I even went out of my way to let her pick what she wants from stores when we go shopping.” 

“Oooooh? That’s so cute!” Akila blurts out, her hands propping up her chin. “And you’re learning to cook for her? That’s so thoughtful, and noble, and-” 

“Oh my cod you’re embarrassing me-” Freya turns a bright orange.

“Ah! Sorry, haha! It’s just…” A somber look passes over Akila’s eyes for a moment. “I’m glad you two care so much for each other. Before I moved here, I didn’t really have something like that. It’s nice.”

Oh. She must've been like me, then. I remember what that was like...I wonder if it was a family thing or a relationship thing? Marie DID say Akila moved here after a bad breakup.

…Cod, this is awkward. Maybe I should cheer her up?

"..." Freya makes up her mind. She picks her cup of coffee up, taking a long sip. Her face practically crunches in disgust, causing Akila to burst out laughing. The tension in the air practically dissipates, forgotten in moments.

“Why’d you order it black if you don’t like it?” She manages between giggles, wiping away a tiny cyan tear. “You’re crazy, Freya.” 

“On the contrary, Four. It just takes some practice to get used to.” Three can’t stop the smile on her face. It worked, at least. “That’s what I keep telling myself, anyway-” 

A voice interrupts the two before they get further into their laughing fit. “Okay girls! I’ve got your pan dulce headed your way.” The woman from before heads to their table, two plates with three fresh old-world Mexican sweet bread piled on top of them. “You two enjoy, okay?” 

“Thanks, Milk! You’re so sweet!” Akila practically sings in gratitude, gently taking her plate. 

“You’re Honey’s mom, right?” Freya asks, taking hers as well. “So you’ve known Akila for a few years?” 

“Ah, that’s right! Akila here is like family. My name’s Milk. Weirdly food themed family, I know.” Her hands now free, Milk extends a hand to Freya. The agent shakes her hand firmly, scrutinizing her as she does so. 

Milk has a flour and sugar stained black apron on. Near the top of the apron is an intricately stitched patch of a honey bee, with the words ‘The Honeycomb’ below it. A sleek metal name tag with Milk’s name on it is affixed to the apron, which leads Freya’s eyes further up to her neckline. Pale white tentacles are pulled back away from her face to prevent it from interfering with work. She’s sensible. Adults mostly seem to be, when it comes to their kids. Not like my parents were. Slight wrinkles are near her eyes, curved like she smiles a lot.

“My name’s Freya. I think you met Jeanne yesterday? She’s my roommate.” Three says at last, a small smile on her face. This could work. She’s like, an actual adult compared to the Squid Sisters. 

“Yes! She’s very gentle with Flour. We love to see that in new customers.”

“That’s good. I heard you’ve known Akila for a while. What do you think of her?”

“Huh?” Milk and Akila say in unison, their eyes questioning. 

“Yeah, what do you think of her?” Freya takes another sip of her coffee, unflinching this time. Blegh. “Since she’s known Honey for a while, you probably already have a sort of opinion on her, right?” 

“Yo what.” Akila murmurs, entirely baffled. 

“Well, that’s right. I’ve known her for about two years. Even though I have two kids, I kind of always considered her one of my own.” Milk smiles fondly at Akila, making the teen’s eyes water. 

“Aww, Milk! You’re just so sweet…”

“Can you blame me? You’re responsible, you keep Honey out of trouble, you bring me new customers...Ah, ignore that last part!” She chuckles, playfully pushing onto Akila’s shoulder. The two laugh as Freya thinks on her response. 

Responsible. Keeps her daughter out of trouble. Somehow sings with the Great Zapfish regularly without spooking it off. Just what kind of person is Akila? Is she good enough for my sister-in-arms? Is she dedicated enough to not break Marie’s heart?  

“Well now, I’ll leave you two to it. Enjoy the pan dulce!” With that, Milk returns to behind the counter. Akila gratefully takes a bite of her sweet bread, the crunchy topping baked into the top crumbling satisfyingly.

Akila SEEMS trustworthy. I can't tell if it's an act, or if she's being genuine. For the moment, I think I'll give her a chance to earn my trust. From there I can figure it out...

“So, what’s with all the questions?” Akila finally says at last, dipping her pan dulce into her coffee carefully. “This isn’t because I’m dating Marie, is it?” Ah. 

“I just wanna get to know you better, that’s all.” Lying through her teeth, Freya takes another sip of her black coffee. She stares down the other agent. 

Akila catches on quickly. 

“Is that it? Well, don’t you think hitting the turf would be a better way to get to know each other?” Four leans back in her chair, happily taking another bite of her sweet bread. 

“You want to turf? 1v1?” Freya asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yep. Don’t you think it’d be fun to give it a shot? I’d get to know you better, you’d get to know me better...and without having to waste time on silly stuff like 20 Questions.” 

She does make a point, Freya winces. “You know what? I think that’s a great idea. I haven’t been able to find the time to play turf war since coming back up to the surface.” 

The two at the table hear a loud gasp from the counter. In a flash, Jeanne is beside them, bouncing up and down excitedly. “You two! You are going to fight? In turf war? I want to go too!”

Her sudden interest in the conversation nearly makes Freya jump in her seat. “You want to play turf war too? We’d have to register you, though. You okay with that?” 

Jeanne nods with enough force that the Golden Toothpick in her hair nearly falls out. “I want to try it at least! It does not matter to me how long it will take. I just want to play turf war!” 

Freya can’t help but laugh at that. “Okay, fine. We’ll get you signed up. Let’s go, you two.” 

-🦑⚔🦑-

It’s mid afternoon. 

Skipper Pavilion is the stage left for 1v1s today, others either on maintenance or in the cleanup process. The wind breezes across the area, gently pushing the huge lanterns set up on the stage with its force. 

Jeanne sits in the practically empty spectator area. Her eyes are everywhere, greedily drinking in the incredible scenery. “You guys go here to fight regularly?!” She shouts, her voice carrying. 

On one end of the stage is Freya. From where she is, she can barely spot Jeanne and Judd on the sidelines. “Yeah!” She shouts out, brushing the ink off of her as she stands. 

She didn’t forget what happened to her yesterday. 

She had that migraine after returning to humanoid form. In an attempt to acclimate her body to her strange new condition, Freya had sat in her own ink outside the Turf War & Ranked Processing Office of Inkopolis Square while Akila explained Jeanne’s situation to the poor confused secretary. As they started off the paperwork process, Freya tried to keep it together. 

I’m like, about 85% together. She tells herself as she stretches in her humanoid form, waiting for Akila’s ready confirmation. 

It’s just a friendly little sparring session. It’s not a competition. Freya psyches herself up, trying to relax. You’re not going to get a migraine in the middle of this. You’re gonna whoop her ass and look cool in front of Jeanne doing it.  

...Wait, cool?  

“I’m ready!” Akila’s voice rings out on the other side of the stage. Three fumbles to pick up her Octobrush Nouveau in her embarrassment. 

“Me too!” She shouts back, waiting for the whistle from Judd now.  

Freya closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. 

She tries to ignore the headache centered behind her eye.

A piercing whistle sounds out across the stage, spurring Freya to slap down her Octobrush Nouveau and run . Ignoring turf coverage for now, Freya’s boots slap against the pavement as she runs as fast as she can to cross the stage. 

Ink is a quarter low. Beakon time. Slipping into squid form behind a statue, Freya quickly deploys a Beakon before sitting in her own violet ink to refill. She leans around the corner, trying to figure out where Akila is. 

She spots a splatter of bright pink ink further away, the line of fire scattered. Dualies? Looks like two sources. Satisfied with her current amount of ink, she dives in with her brush. 

“GOTCHA!” Freya cries out, weaving in to strike her down. 

Something unexpected happens. A voice speaks up behind her.

Kill her.  

What the-  

Freya’s arm nearly halts midswing, but it’s too late to stop the momentum now that the brush is closing in on Akila's face. Akila turns up towards the shadow setting over her. Her eyes can only widen as she processes it, realization hitting her too late. 

There’s an explosion of violet ink and the light ping of a sonar. Akila’s little squid ghost floats out of the puddle of ink left behind to head to the respawn point. 

Freya’s body feels cold, like she’s being held underwater. Her ears are ringing. Freya’s eyes dart back and forth, trying to find the source of the voice, but she’s the only one left standing.

What the hell was that?  

She freezes in place as she tries to figure it out, her pulse racing. There’s something else ringing. It’s getting closer, but she can’t get her legs to move- 

In a burst of Akila’s bright pink ink, Freya realizes her mistake. Dark Tetra Dualies have Autobombs, idiot. 

She finds herself back at the spawn point. Bile rises up in her throat, an uneasy nausea settling into the pit of her stomach. Three cusses internally and pulls herself together, telling herself to shake it off. 

She hates vomiting. Unlike ink, it doesn’t go away over time and it stinks. The idea of leaving something behind for someone else to clean up never sat right with Freya, so she forces herself to focus on the turf. Focus on the splats, not the voice. Cod, I wish I had some gum on me. 

In a stream of violet, Freya makes a super jump to her Beakon. She grunts as she lands, immediately dropping another Beakon when her old one shatters. 

Where is she? Freya peeks out past the corner, narrowing her eyes. Her heart won’t stop racing. She forces herself to take a steady breath. What’s wrong with me? This hasn’t ever been a problem for me. I should be kicking her ass right now, not wheezing after a weird splat.  

Gritting her teeth, Freya smacks her octobrush onto the floor as she runs for it. She can hear the racket of Akila’s dualies splattering away. Over there.  

Turning into Akila’s side of the stage, Freya picks up the pace. She can’t be much further away now. A streak of pink flies past her, narrowly missing her. 

I said kill her. 

Three nearly loses her grip on her brush.

Where the hell is that coming from?!  

Akila dodge rolls into her line of sight, firing off a few rounds. Freya swears aloud, swinging wide. The pink ink splatters right through her arm, shooting pain up through the nerves. The distorted voice in the back of her mind hisses irately, making Freya’s head fuzzy. 

What are you doing? I said to kill her. Are you holding back? 

Three more slaps with the brush rewards Freya with a splat. She makes sure to scan for an Autobomb this time as Akila’s spirit returns to her spawn point with a whine. She swears aloud again as she dips down into her ink. Her body feels wrong . 

Who the hell are you?! Answer me!  

Deafening silence meets her. The inside of her liquid body feels clammy. Get up. The pain in her arm dulls, but Freya can’t help but feel uncomfortable regardless. 

Her ink tank is full now. Three charges out of her puddle, doing her best to ignore the tingly sensation of regenerating skin. At least finish this fucking match. Then you can feel terrible later when Jeanne isn’t watching. You’re a soldier, not a weakling.  

Freya pushes further into enemy territory. One more Beakon goes down closer to Akila’s spawn point. As the timer starts to call out one minute remaining, Freya spurs her body into super jumping back to her respawn point. She can feel her special close to being ready. 

As her shoes hit the ground, she's off again, swinging the octobrush wildly. Right now, coverage matters the most. Once she gets her special, the missiles can cut off Akila's escape if she's particularly caught off guard by them. Violet ink sprays across the turf closest to Freya's respawn point, quickly covering the vicinity.

Her blood quickens. She can feel the call of her weapon, announcing to her that she's ready. 

Pulling on the call easier than pouring water, Freya materializes two sizable missile launchers flawlessly. She searches in the direction of Akila's spawn point, quickly locking on to a rapidly moving signal. Freya pulls the triggers, firing off as many shots as she can before the ink holding the launchers together at last collapses and joins the puddles of ink at her feet. 

Now's my chance!

Jumping to the Beakon closest to Akila's spawn, Freya can feel her heart beating fast as she flies over the stage. The rockets she set off finally crash land near the middle of the stage, tipping her off as to where her opponent must be. 

"Yo, you're not gonna win turf coverage at this rate!" Akila's voice rings out as Freya hits the ground. 

"It's not about coverage, it's about splats! ...right?" 

"Is it?!" 

"Ah, fuck it. Either way, I'm coming for you..!" Freya's Octobrush Nouveau kisses the ground, practically skating across the tiled floor as the inkling makes her last stand. 

Following the sound of the rockets' impact, Freya closes in. 

Another ping of a sonar sounds off, making her swerve into a different direction. It's an Autobomb. Can't stop moving now-  

The scattered shots of Akila's Dark Tetra Dualies give away her location. She hears a bloop, then a resounding splatatata as Freya feels pain blooming across her left side. 

She ducks, diving back for a second - then forward with a wide swing. Freya can hear her opponent almost laugh. Akila dives to the side, once, then twice, then takes aim again. 

Stop stalling. Kill her already. 

Leave me ALONE-

Arms moving without any command, Freya's brush connects with Akila's right arm, knocking a Dualie out of her hand. She can hear a gasp for a moment, then the unmistakable sound of her form popping as Freya's arms swing again - this time vertically. 

Freya feels like she's going to be sick. She can almost taste the bile in her mouth-

A piercing whistle snaps her out of her thoughts. 

The match is over, she tells herself in relief. It's over now. Now you can go. Thank Cod…

-🦑-

After the match, Freya runs to the bathroom. She barely even heard the results over her own thoughts. In the end, she didn't vomit.

Did I win? I didn't even hear what Judd said about the splats. I could only think about…

Freya freezes up now that she is alone. Slowly, she turns in the direction of the mirrors in the Skipper Pavilion public bathrooms. 

Her regular blue eyes greet her. Just her regular eyes, her regular face, her regular scar beneath her chin. 

Freya approaches the counter, a bead of sweat rolling down her face. It's odd that she's sweating. She feels ice cold. Maybe she really is sick? She runs over the symptoms of Cephalopod Flu in her head.

Three’s hands grip the marble counter of the bathroom sink. She stares at her reflection.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Three leans close to the mirror, her eyes scanning the reflection. That spot that bothered her the other day with the migraine - the spot Jeanne said that asshole Tartar took control of her - keeps drawing her line of vision to it. 

That...that can't be it, can it? 

Commander Tartar...Pearl screamed at him til he exploded. Jeanne destroyed him when he took control of me. Commander Tartar can't be inside my head.

...Right?

Unnerved by her thought process, Freya scrubs her hands down and leaves. 

You're being ridiculous, Three. 

-🦑-

"Freyaaaaaaaa!"

As soon as Freya steps outside, she's quickly greeted with a speedy hug. Freya yelps, to her surprise. Jeanne holds her tightly, laughing as she does so.

"Jesus, Jeanne! You could snap someone in half with those arms holy shi-" 

"I cannot help it! Your match with Akila, it was incredible!" The octoling bounces in place as she lets go, clearly enthused to have watched the match between agents. “You were flying just like you were when you saved me!”

Was it all that incredible, though? Freya can't help but feel the dread settling into the pit of her stomach despite Jeanne’s kind words.

"Nice job, Agent Three!" Akila approaches, changed out of her turf gear. The NSS headset over her ears is different from her set, Freya realizes. It looks a lot sleeker than her set. "You definitely got me that round…hopefully we can make these little sparring matches a habit from now on?" 

"You...want to spar with me?" Freya tries her best not to sound dumbfounded. “Me?”

"Of course! Since you're two years my senior in the NSS, I can already tell I can learn a lot from you. What do you say?"

Three definitely isn't qualified to teach Akila. She knows it. 

"Um, you're the one older than me. I'm barely eighteen."

"That may be true, but you're different from other eighteen-year-olds. You're a member of the New Squidbeak Splatoon. Hell, you're still the talk of legend down in the domes! Ever since you-" 

"Don't." Freya blurts out, her ink color at last returning to its usual orange. Her face flushes a sunset orange. "Cod, don't say it." She doesn’t even know where to begin regarding DJ Octavio.

"Huh?" Four asks bluntly, her eyes a little confused. She raises a sky blue eyebrow. "Wait, does Jeanne not know?" 

Eight tilts her head at that. "Know what?" 

Oh boy.

Akila gasps soundlessly, eyes flicking between Jeanne and Freya. "Oh my Cod you didn't tell her about you-know-who."  

"Ah… 'You know...who'? That is a person?"

"No, I didn't! I was gonna tell her later! Probably after the next NSS meeting!"

"Freya?" 

"Oh Cod, Marie's gonna flip when she hears about this-" 

"You're not gonna tell Marie! She'd never let me hear the end of it!" The tangerine blush on her face burns ever brighter, suddenly feeling more her age. "A-anyway, I won, so you have to keep this quiet for now, okay?!" 

Akila smirks with a look that reminds Three all too well of her sisters-in-arms. Great, they've turned her into one of them. "Of course! It's only fair, after all." 

Freya almost lets a sigh of relief escape her, before she remembers her strict regimen regarding emotions. Don't show others they can get to you. 

...Failed step one, she snarks to herself. 

"Ah, even if I don't end up sparring with you again…I feel like I got to know you a little better, Agent Three." 

"Huh?" 

"Yeah." Akila smiles, leaning against the polished wall of the Skipper Pavilion bathrooms. "You're ruthless. You're strong. You're, well… admittedly a little scary on the battlefield. That's good." 

She holds out her fist to Freya. Without even having to think about it, Three fist bumps her. Akila smiles widely, pulling the two other agents into a hug sandwich. Freya lets out a surprised yelp.

"Ahh, you two are just so cool! Here's hoping we do our best in the NSS! Okay?" 

"Yes, let us do our best, Akila and Freya!" Jeanne holds tight. She grows quiet for a moment. “Um, Freya...you are okay, yes?” 

Deep down, Freya can tell they were both worried about her. She ran off right after the match, after all, without telling either of them something was wrong. 

“I’m fine.” Ever the pinnacle of honesty. “I’m just hungry.”

Just for this moment… It feels like Three can just allow herself to ease up and let people in, even if she lies about her state of mind. 

-🦑🦑🦑-

■Webmaster■ > Agent 4 has joined the chatroom.

Agent 4 > oh my cod you two weren’t KIDDING. 

Agent 1 > RIGHT???????? YOU SEE IT??? 

Agent 4 > jeanne just hugged her and freya did this thing where they held hands and

Agent 4 > they’re yearning. oh my cod

Agent 2 > Akila, you’re in on this too?!

Agent 1 > i nobly recruited aki to the cause!!!! 

Agent 2 > Cod save us. 

Agent 4 > callie’s right, though!!!!!! freya is SO yearning

Agent 4 > we’re heading to the crust bucket now to meet up with oth for lunch but like

Agent 4 > i can Sense it. freya is Yearning.

Agent 2 > Okay this is getting confusing. 

■Webmaster■ > Agent 2 has changed their username to MarieCuttlefish.

MarieCuttlefish > That’s better. Too many agents in here.

Agent 1 > oh you right

■Webmaster■ > Agent 1 has changed their username to CallieCuttlefish.

Agent 4 > man im jealous you two match :////////

CallieCuttlefish > but?? You’re dating a cuttlefish??? 

Agent 4 > ok u right 

MarieCuttlefish > oh my cod,

MarieCuttlefish > anyway. Akila! Please keep us posted on how the Yearning goes. 

MarieCuttlefish > I am very invested in these two now. 

CallieCuttlefish > it’s a blessing and a curse

Agent 4 > fdghfdjadhfgdfhgj

Agent 4 > okay, i’ll let you guys know as the yearning happens 

Agent 4 > see you two after lunch!! 

MarieCuttlefish > See you. I love you! 

■Webmaster■ > Agent 4 has left the chatroom.

CallieCuttlefish > you two are so gay i love you guys

MarieCuttlefish > 😊

-🦑-

The Crust Bucket is unironically Three’s favorite restaurant in Inkopolis Square. 

Whether it came to appetizers or footwear, Crusty Sean had never steered her wrong before. Even though Sean doesn’t work at Shrimp Kicks anymore, Freya can’t find it in her to complain about his career change. She can tell the food truck vendor is eons happier in his new line of work, and that makes her happy. 

The trio of agents convene a little away from the food truck in question for the time being. Jeanne in particular digs through the pockets of her borrowed hoodie, fishing a beaten wallet with an icon of an isopod sewn onto it out of the folds of her jacket’s fabric. 

“What’s that?” Freya asks as she leans against a lightpost, watching intently. 

“When I was in the metro...I was given a lot of these things! Hold on…” With a gentle tug, an absurd amount of carefully packed food and drink tickets spills out of Jeanne’s wallet. “Ah! Aww, I tried to fold them nicely…” 

“UM?” Akila and Freya blurt out incredulously. The two scramble to help Jeanne pick up her fallen tickets. “Where the hell did you even find all of these?! You found them in the metro?!” 

“Yes! But I didn’t know what they were for...Oh, I wanted to try these really badly…” 

“But, you’ve never been to Crusty Sean’s before you came up here, right? It’s kind of odd that they’d have food tickets for his business down there, don’t you think?” Akila muses thoughtfully, sorting out the food and drink tickets into their respective categories. “Tests, subways, freaky monsters... Just what kind of place is the Deepsea Metro supposed to be?”

Freya looks up when no immediate answer comes from either of them. Jeanne is squatting down, her brow wrinkled as she stares down two different meal tickets. 

“Uh...Jeanne?”

“Mmm?” The tentacles pulled into a ponytail twirl inquisitively in response.

“What’re ya...doin’ there, bud?” 

Jeanne’s gaze sharpens as she stares down the tickets, her eyes flicking between the two she holds. “I...cannot decide on what to eat for lunch.”

Ohhhhh.  

“Was that all?” Akila asks with a smile on her face. “There’s no need to worry about that, y’know. You’ve only been on the surface for three days, after all.”

“Yeah, she’s right. Just because this is your first time here doesn’t mean you have to like, have everything figured out immediately. Finding out stuff like this takes time.” Freya stands slowly, extending a hand to her housemate. “There’s no rush to figure it out right away, alright?” 

A shade of red-purple tinges Jeanne’s cheeks as she takes Freya’s hand, the veteran agent pulling her to her feet. She smiles in a way that makes Three’s heart skip a beat. 

“You are right. Thank you.”

“Yeah, no prob…” Freya can feel her face warm up. “They, um...They were on their way, right?”

“Yoooooo!” A voice calls out behind them, cut off by a “We’re incognito, remember, Pearlie?!” whispered out in a hush. 

Dressed in all pink with a King Flip Mesh switched out for her crown, Pearl stands tall. Well, as tall as a pygmy squid can be. The rapper has a pink hoodie on, with a pair of sneakers Freya recognizes is from her personal shoe line. Now that’s a flex if Three’s ever seen one. 

“Shit, sorry. Anyway, yo Eight! And hey again, you two. Didn’t exactly catch your names that day… I’m Pearl.” The punk princess holds her hand out for Akila and Freya to shake. It definitely sounds like Pearl got her voice back.

“Eight, I’m so glad to see you again!” Marina says, peeking out from beneath the hood of her jacket. The DJ has a hooded crop top over a Negative Cuff Sweater, matching the look with a pair of Punk Blacks. It looks good on her. 

“Marina!” Jeanne tackles Marina in turn as Freya barely introduces herself to Pearl in a little more detail. The duo speak in rapid Octa, far too fluent for Three to catch on as they speak.

“Yo, ‘Rina. These two are the Eight’s new coworkers.” Pearl gently nudges Marina with her elbow, tilting her head in Freya and Akila’s direction. The DJ gasps in delight, taking Freya’s hand to shake it. 

Freya takes note of the razor sharp claws at the end of Marina’s fingers, and how carefully the octoling took her hand to avoid slashing her skin open. I appreciate that.  

“You’re the inkling who took Eight in! I know we barely spoke while we were at the meeting, but I wanted to make sure you know how much we appreciate you taking her in. It’s a relief that you’re both doing much better.” Marina’s voice is warm. The warble of it is close to Jeanne’s. 

“Yeah, um...We’re really getting along so far. It’s nice.” Why do I feel so much pressure? Is this what it’s like to meet something close to someone’s big sister when you know their younger sister? “Jeanne gets the bed. I can’t complain.”

“She gets the bed?” Marina asks. 

“We only have one bed!” Jeanne interjects as she gives Pearl a big bone crushing hug, eliciting some muffled swears from the rapper. “But it is okay! It is very comfortable.”

Pearl and Marina share A Look once Jeanne releases Pearl from her iron grip.. Freya can tell it’s A Look. She’s not dumb. Here come the questions.

“There’s just one bed?” Marina asks, raising an eyebrow. “Where do you sleep then, Freya?” 

“The couch. I don’t mind it at all, really.” 

“So you two don’t like, sleep together?” Pearl blurts out, ever the blunt one.

“NO? We just met?” Freya can feel her face burning a bright tangerine. “Where’s all this coming from?!” 

“Oh, you know.” Marina says, leaning against the same light pole Freya was reclining on earlier.

“Yeah, you know!” Pearl interjects. 

Freya, in fact, does not know. 

“Pearl? Marina?” Jeanne asks, her tentacles twirling questioningly. She tilts her head to the side in a way that makes Freya almost poke her cheeks. “Weren’t we going to eat?”

“Ah, right!” The DJ claps her hands as if she forgot. “Did you pick something from the menu? There’s a few options to choose from.” 

The quintet of ladies guide their eyes to the lovely chalkboard in front of Crusty Sean’s food truck. 

Freya takes initiative. She puts a firm hand on Jeanne’s shoulder. “Listen, Jeanne, in the past forty-eight hours I’ve known you, I’m begging you. Get the regulars. You’ll die if you go bigger than that. I’m serious.” 

“I will die?!” Jeanne gasps, her brown eyes wide. 

“You will eat too much and you will wish you were dead. I made the mistake of going straight for the Galactic Schwaffle. I’m begging you. Don’t make the same mistake I made.” 

Akila nods. “She’s right. That’s a whole mountain of food. You’ve got to build up to stuff like that! So like, that means we’ve gotta come here often now.”

“Ohhhh. I understand! Thank you.” 

Oh thank Cod. I don’t want her to fucking die trying to take down that monster. 

“Anyway, I’m getting the biggest thing on the menu,” Pearl declares. Jeanne gasps loudly in response, making Pearl laugh. 

“Honestly, same.” Freya admits. “Once I built up to the Galactic Schwaffle, it was WAAAY better. It took a lot of work to get my stomach that way.”

Jeanne stares at the both of the inklings with stars in her eyes. “You two are impressive! I cannot wait to order…” The octoling takes a look at the chalkboard now, trying to see what sounds most appealing. 

Before long, the girls all decide on their lunch. 

They sit around a table, the five of them waiting for their orders now.
 

Jeanne stretches happily, her tentacles twirling in Inkopolis Square's brilliant sunlight. The octoling takes a nice deep breath as she looks around at the passersby. 

"We haven't gotten the chance to go somewhere together like this, huh?" Three asks, leaning on the outdoor table. "Do you like Inkopolis Square?" 

"Yes," Jeanne says almost silently, a big smile on her face as she takes in the surroundings in further detail. "It is so...alive. I feel very, um...glad I escaped." 

It's then that Freya notices the other three ladies at the table are incredibly quiet. She looks up - but they all suddenly look away. Akila is typing away at her phone, whistling softly. 

What…….is going on here. What the. What.

Before Three can breach the subject, Marina speaks up. "So, Eight, have you two been anywhere aside from here together?" One of her tentacles is curling around her wrist loosely, almost like a bracelet.

"Oh! We went to buy groceries yesterday! It was very cool! Freya let me get what I wanted. We had bread last night!” Jeanne beams. Oh my Cod she’s so sweet.

“Yeah? That’s cool! Do you guys have everything you need?” Marina asks, leaning her elbows on the table. 

“Mhm. We’ve got fresh vegetables. I’ve been out of the house for two months, so I had to get decent food. It’s nice, though.” Freya smiles softly. “I had fun shopping with Jeanne.” 

"It was a lot of fun! We walked around Prawnford. I enjoyed it very much!" Eight pulls her phone out, showing off a few pictures the octoling took over the past three days. "I like Prawnford. The, um...Oh! The paintings I saw, at the station! They are very pretty." 

“That reminds me of when I showed Marina around Inkopolis." Pearl pipes up, sipping on her Main-Saver Lemonade. "She wouldn’t stop looking around everywhere. It was super cute, honestly." 

"Awww, Pearlie…" Marina turns a shade of turquoise, shyly twirling a tentacle with a finger. "You're embarrassing me in front of Eight!" 

"Oh, 'Rina, you know I love you. It doesn't matter what the others think." At that, Pearl holds Marina's other hand gently, sporting her own bubblegum pink hue on her cheeks. 

Oh my Cod, I'm hanging out with the Lesbian Brigade.

"You two are soooooo cute, oh my Cod," Akila says, a gushy look on her face. 

The idol duo laugh, holding each other’s hand beneath the table now. “It’s days like this that make me most nostalgic,” Marina admits, her hair curling around her face a little. “Going to the Crust Bucket for food, shopping at Arowana Mall, eating cake and ice cream…” 

“That was what we did the first month or so we were together, huh? I almost forgot.” 

“It was really food related. Octolings didn’t get to eat a lot if they were in the army, so I wanted to eat what I could up here.” 

Jeanne nods, taking sips of her Swim Speed Apple Juice. “We were told to ration regularly.” 

“We bonded so much over food that we even like, ended up with our first Splatfest being Cake vs. Ice Cream. Remember that, Pearlie?”

“Oh Cod, YEAH! It was our debut...Our worldwide premiere! That was our first concert here in Inkopolis Square… I could never forget that.” Pearl leans onto Marina’s shoulder, making the octoling giggle. “The people loved you that night. I remember it like it was yesterday.” 

“I remember after the splatfest, we had a big buffet with people from the studio. They were so pleased that we were so well received! Ahh…I’m getting a little weepy now!” Marina wipes away an imaginary tear with her free hand. 

“Coming in hot!” Crusty Sean’s voice calls out, his arms loaded up with paper trays of fried food. “Crusty Seanwich for Jeanne, Double-Fried Super Schwaffle for Marina, and a Super Seanwich for Akila! I’ll be right back with the other two orders.”

The trio say their thanks as Sean ducks back into the food truck, the pleasing hiss of the deep friers following his reentry. Jeanne examines her order carefully, curious about the intricacies of the dish. 

The base Seanwich, despite being named like a sandwich, is more akin to a hotdog. A beautiful pretzel bun is sliced horizontally, toasted to perfection. Mayonnaise lines the inside and holds a large tempura fried shrimp. A delicately poured dollop of ketchup sits atop the fried prawn like a crown.

“Go ahead, Jeanne. Give it a try,” Freya nudges her roommate, spurring her on. 

“But what about yours?”

“Hell, I’ll let you try mine since I’m sure you’ll still be eating by the time I get full.”

“Incoming! Galactic Seanwich for Freya!” Sean calls out. 

Freya doesn’t really know where to start when it comes to describing Crusty Sean’s delicacies. The masterpiece he has graced her with today, however, is a monster. Three jumbo tempura shrimp, two hotdogs, a pair of plastic little Sean arms to keep, and lettuce shingled in between the various proteins to keep them separate is absolutely not a regular dietary choice, but Freya has literally never been wronged by her longtime friend before. 

“Thanks, big guy.” 

“No problem, squiddo. Enjoy! Pearl, here’s your order.” 

Crusty Sean leaves Pearl’s similar monstrocity - the feared Triple-Fried Galactic Schwaffle - at her side of the table and heads off, leaving the quintet with their food. 

Freya watches as Jeanne takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully on her food of choice. Jeanne’s eyes light up as she savors her mouthful. She crunches away with gusto.

She likes it? I’m glad.

With a smile on her face, Freya begins to tear into her respective dish. The girls chat as they eat, mostly to cheer on Pearl and Freya as they take on the Galactic variants of Crusty Sean’s menu. 

Nearly twenty minutes go by. Freya barely registers it as she chews away, spitting out the tail part of one of the jumbo tempura shrimp. A lettuce wrapped hotdog and one tempura shrimp remains. 

I feel so full. Ugh. Maybe I should've just gone for the Super. 

Pearl seems to also be wrestling with the food coma beginning to set in. Her face is scrunched up in concentration, trying to focus on the last waffle left of her dish. 

"Pearlie, we can bag it up and save it for later, you know." Marina reminds her girlfriend gently, her hand rubbing a comforting circle on Pearl's back.

"I know, but it'll get soggy…"

"But are you going to eat it?" 

"...Nnnnno." 

"Then let's put it away for now." 

Talked down by her girlfriend, Pearl at last folds. The Triple-Fried Galactic Schwaffle wins this round against the pink princess. Jeanne watches thoughtfully, likely taking mental notes of what is bound to be Pearl’s imminent demise. 

“Ugh, I think I’m gonna have to call it a day. There’s just so much waffle and whipped cream and shrimp.” Pearl whines, leaning against Marina for support. Her turquoise girlfriend giggles.

Right as the two are about to get up and start making their goodbyes, a resounding wave of phone notifications chimes from the entire group at the table. 

Uh? What is that supposed to be?

Digging into her pockets, Freya fishes her phone out. A text message from her captain reads on the screen. She spots the numbers of the other girls, alongside those of the Squid Sisters. So, is this an NSS group text?

CraigCuttlefish > meeting in Octo Canyon in 30 minutes. get ready to suit up

CraigCuttlefish > it’s time to free some octolings 

Looks like Freya has to take the rest of her Seanwich to-go. 

Chapter Text

The wind is fierce as ever at Tentakeel Outpost. 

The paper lanterns twist in the breeze. The sun covers everything in warm shades of yellow light as it begins to set. As Freya pulls herself out of the sewer and helps the others onto solid ground, she spots the blanket covered snowglobe.

DJ Octavio. As much as I’d love another “sparring session” right now, this isn’t the time...  

Side-glancing the others, Three gently takes Jeanne’s hand as the octoling pulls out of the pipes, blocking her view of the snowglobe with her body.

“It is so beautiful here…” Eight admits, facing the lanterns above them. “It feels lovely. Almost like our home.” 

Our home. Our...

Freya doesn’t know what to say. She can’t stop staring at the covered snowglobe either, glancing occasionally at the intricate blanket. Behind her, blissfully unaware of Freya’s plight, Akila and Off the Hook stretch and take in the scenery as she decides on what to do.

I don’t think I should show Jeanne Octavio yet. It wouldn’t be pretty, given what she went through… She might even give me a run for my money. 

“We’re like fifteen minutes early for the meeting, but I think they’re inside. Let’s go, yeah?”

“Yeah!”

The duo step into Cuttlefish Cabin ahead of the others, greeted immediately by Sheldon. 

“Agent Three! Agent Eight! Welcome. Agent Eight, if you will give me a moment of your time?” Sheldon motions for Jeanne to follow him, hopping enthusiastically. The octoling glances back at Freya. 

Oh.

“He probably wants to give you new gear. Go on ahead. It’s okay.” Three says with a small grin on her face, letting go of Jeanne’s hand.

“Ah, okay…”

Sheldon leads her over to a changing room, going on and on about modifications he’s made to some sort of armor. It’d make sense if he felt the old equipment she had was impractical. It looked uncomfortable with all the leather.

Guess I’ll find out what that is about later.  

Letting her feet carry her, Freya walks into the meeting room. Boopsy chirps out a greeting from their terrarium. Marie looks over her shoulder from the kitchen stove, her face brightening as she spots Three.

“Hey, Frey’. Hopefully we didn’t interrupt anything calling you guys in for the meeting. Jeanne settling in okay?” She asks, placing a kettle of water onto the stove. 

“Oh, yeah. She’s doing well.” Freya sits at her usual spot, picking at her Fishfry Tee. “Are we actually going to liberate Octarians today? That seems like a super bold first move. Did the Captain order this?”

The gas on the stove click-click-clicks on and a flame roars to life. 

Satisfied with the kettle’s stability, Marie joins Freya at the meeting table. “He did. I guess being trapped in Kamabo with Eight really changed his perspective on things… Thing is, I’m in agreement with this. If Jeanne’s story is correct, there’s others down there looking for their chance to escape, even if Octavio’s brainwashing is still intact. Turquoise October is still in operation, I think.” 

Freya hums thoughtfully. “That makes sense.” 

“Callie and Gramps are getting food real quick before the mission. You guys ate, right?” Marie leans on the table, watching her sister intently. 

“Yeah. I ate a little much, if anything…” 

“Eugh, did you go for one of the Galactic meals?”

“...Yeeeeah.”

“Jeez. One of these days, Freya, it’s gonna bite you in the ass.” 

"Maybe, just maybe. Freya the Unstoppable lives to see another day, for now." 

"We'll see in an hour or so," Marie smirks, grabbing her bowl of mint chocolates to take a handful. "Heard you kicked my girlfriend's ass, by the way." 

"Akila told you?"

"Akila tells me everything . Force of habit for her.” Marie grins, sitting down at the table with her minty chocolates. 

She didn’t tell her about my little incident earlier, did she?

Freya tries to put up a nonchalant front. “Man, you’re really making your girlfriend put in work.” 

“Hey, she knows what she’s doing!” Marie slides a chocolate across the table to Freya, opening one of the many she snagged in a handful. “You’ll see how useful a recon agent is, trust me. You never were much of a recon person, more of a ‘shoot first and ask questions later’ kind of agent.” 

“Shit Marie, ruuude. Who saved your grandfather again?”

“Well, you, and now Jeanne.”

“...Huh. You’re right. I don’t exactly have bragging rights anymore.”

“Yup. Now you’ve gotta share the ‘saved the captain once’ rights with Jeanne.” Marie pauses as she chews away at her chocolates, sighing contentedly. “Speaking of...how are you doing with her? Regarding living with her, I mean.” 

“Huh?” 

Freya’s heart skips a beat. 

“Yeah, are you doing alright? I know the house you have is comfortable for you, but is it enough to hold two people? No arguments yet?” 

Oh. “No, nothing. Since the first day I’ve been sleeping on the couch so she can have the bed. I want her to be comfortable.”

“Wait, really? You’re sleeping on your couch?!” Marie jolts up, leaning in. "You two aren't like, sleeping in the same bed?" 

"Why does everyone say that?! No!" Freya can feel her face burn up. "We just met like, three days ago! I don’t get it?!” 

Marie raises an eyebrow, that smirk of hers poking at her. “Oh, you know.”

“I don’t know?!”

“Eh, you’ll figure it out eventually. It’s not complicated, and you’re smart.” 

“The hell is that supposed to mean? Everybody keeps saying, ‘oh, you know!’ I don’t know!” 

Marie snorts. 

Giggles follow after. Before she knows it, the two of them are laughing at the top of their lungs, sprawled over the table as they reach for the other, prodding each other playfully. 

“Cod, you’re so stupid. Love you, jerk.” Marie manages between giggles and deep breaths, her face a light lime from laughing so much. 

“Here we go!” Sheldon’s voice pierces out, his little boots trudging out into the hallway. The girls hush almost immediately in anticipation. The horseshoe crab makes a flourish with a gloved hand as Jeanne steps out of the changing room. 

Oh, they’re done? Let’s see-  

Standing tall in her newly modified Null Armor, Jeanne stretches. “How do I look?” She asks with a shy smile, twirling her pale green-tinted tentacle with a finger.

The armor is now a lustrous black with a border the same shade of Jeanne’s hair. Form fitting yet durable, it’s clear to see why Sheldon sought to fortify the Null Armor rather than make something in a similar vein. The boots were similarly touched up, the soles glowing a dim red-purple as Jeanne pretends to pose like she’s on a magazine shoot. The Null Helmet is gone, likely so Eight can opt for her Golden Toothpick instead. The octoling knocks her fist on the chestplate, making Freya realize the Kamabo corp logo is gone entirely, now replaced with the emblem of the New Squidbeak Splatoon. 

“You look…” Freya breathes, at a loss for words. 

“You look amazing, Eight!” Marina’s voice calls out, the trio of cephalopods Three left at the door finally trailing in.

“Yeah, totally kickass!” Pearl rallies, making Jeanne giggle.

“Thank you! I am very happy with it. Thank you as well, Sheldon. This is much more comfortable.” 

"Happy to help! You'll find this ink tank is a lot less volatile than your old one as well. Let me know if you need any adjustments!" 

"I will, thank you." 

Happy as can be, Sheldon wanders off to do things elsewhere. Callie pops into the cabin with a bag of Crusty Sean's and a tray of drinks, loudly declaring this meeting 'fuckin ready to ROLL, baby!' The Captain trails in after her, an apologetic look on his face as he eats. 

Everyone takes their seats, awaiting their orders.

-🦑-

Freya and Jeanne take to the south part of the canyon. The two agents are armed - the inkling with a now illegal Octobrush, and the octoling with both a Custom E Liter 4k Scope and a Bamboozler 14 MK II, the lighter of the two weapons strapped to Jeanne’s back.  

Freya can’t get her eyes off Jeanne’s new Null Armor. The colors suit her much better than the pale white and mint of the Kamabo Corp set she had previously. Sheldon did good work. 

“Will we truly see other Octolings?” Jeanne’s voice snaps her out of her fixation on the girl’s armor. “Down here?” 

Freya scoots over a mossy boulder, hopping down to a path leading further into the canyon. “Captain keeps tabs on what patrol paths have gaps. We might have to fight some Octolings, but hopefully it won’t come to that anytime soon. You have your special cans on you, right?”

Jeanne nods, patting three strapped to her belt. “Stingray, Ink Armor, and Ink Storm. We will have to use them if we’re in trouble...yes?” 

“That’s right.” Freya’s grip tightens on her Octobrush. This model of the weapon is out of commission up on the surface, thanks to the change in regulations. She hasn’t used it in a while, but saves the worn weapon exclusively for missions with the New Squidbeak Splatoon. The thrill of splatting someone in two hits thanks to the critical damage mechanic tugs at Freya’s heart too much to throw out the weapon after all this time. 

“Um… If we find anyone…” Eight murmurs, watching as Freya holds the brush over her shoulder, leaning against the canyon wall. 

“We’ll size them up and see if they’re a threat. If not we’ll guide them up. If they are, we’re either going to fight or see if we can get Agent 1 and 2 to sing them out of Octavio’s brainwashing.” Three pops her neck, sighing softly. “Of course, that’s if we end up finding anyone. Stay on your guard, okay? We have respawn points, but they’re a little out of the way so the jump back might take a hot minute.” 

“Mhm. I understand.” Jeanne squats as she watches out, peeking through the scope of her E Liter 4k to see if she can spot anything. 

“Lemme know if there’s anything we should look out for. That scope has a hell of a lot of range.” Three mumbles quietly, getting into the mindset of patrol. 

Her eyes scan the landscape of Octo Canyon. Admittedly before Kamabo happened, she didn’t visit or patrol the canyon a lot. That was left to Callie or Marie most of the time, since Freya patrolled plenty within Octo Valley.

She can’t help but admit it’s a beautiful place. Cuttlefish Cabin has a perfect view of the whole place, but seeing it up close is a whole other affair. The lush greenery of the canyon complements the dark purple hues of Octarian ink and structures rather nicely. 

Jeanne grew up in a place kind of like this. It’s beautiful, but… I wonder if she thinks of it the same way as I do? Octo Canyon and Octo Valley are both still teeming with Octarian forces…

“Um…” Jeanne starts, squinting through the scope. “I think… Two are coming this way.”

“Octarians?” Freya snaps to attention, a hand on her Octobrush. “Hostile?”

“Octolings. They look...scared. I think they’re running from something. I don’t see any hypnoshades on them. What should we do?” 

No shades means no hypnosis to call Callie and Marie to break. All the better for Three. Her ink shifts to a bright blue as she rolls out her shoulder to get ready to slap some baddies with her brush.

“Change your ink color to blue. If it comes down to it, we’ll fight - but this seems like they’re running from the enemy. Let me know if anything changes.” Freya presses a finger to her NSS communicator. “HQ, we’re making contact with some potential hostiles. Looks like they’re running. We’ll keep you updated.” 

“Copy that. Stay safe, you two.” Sheldon’s voice crackles over the line, settling Freya’s nerves a little.

Eight crouches in anticipation, watching as two octolings with kelp atop their heads run in their direction. Three stands in the path, her right hand on her brush. 

“Here they come,” Jeanne murmurs. 

Out of breath, the two octolings approach. They are the same height, though they differentiate themselves by haircut. The one on the left has shoulder length tentacles, the color complementing the Elite Octoling kelp on her head. The other octoling has her hair parted to cover her right eye, the back tentacles cut short as they poke outwards. 

“ Agiente Three?!” The longer haired octoling shouts, the duo freezing up. “E une Oktaria soldade!”

“ Nie bezone via helpo!” The other octoling starts to speak too quickly for Freya to catch anything in particular with her limited knowledge of Octa. 

The duo have fearful faces. The longer haired one keeps looking in Three’s direction with a look that makes it feel like she’s seen a ghost. 

These two don’t seem armed. I can’t spot their ink tanks… “Eight? What are they saying?” 

“They’re surprised by us…But need our help.” Jeanne stands up, lowering her charger. She speaks calmly, letting the two elite octoling girls explain. She nods occasionally.

There’s a distant rumbling. 

Boots crush the weeds littering the path as an octoling with the coloring of an elite in their hair - yet no kelp - marches up to the quartet. The glaring red hue of soldier hypnoshades frames her face in a dark light. 

An ambush?

"Cordelia. Aurelia." Even with the lenses on, Freya can feel the glare from the soldier. Her voice is distorted, yet the girl speaks in Inkling somewhat clearly. "You traitors." 

The girls shout something in Octa. Jeanne's eyes flick over to Freya's, a nervous feeling settling into the octoling agent. "That's-" 

The shaded soldier raises her arm to signal the others, a mob of hypnotized octolings rallied behind her. The octoling girls - Aurelia and Cordelia, Freya supposes - cry out in protest as they cower behind the agents. She can hear the gradual charge up of Eight's scoped charger, a resounding click as it hits full charge.

Jeanne, I hope you're ready-

"SHELDON! WE NEED BACKUP!" Freya blurts out, her blatantly illegal Octobrush hitting the floor in a blue smear. She doesn't hear Sheldon's response clearly - if he even responded, that is. Beside her, Jeanne fires at the octoling. An arc of blue ink paves the path, to which Eight sinks into to swim towards the enemy in a streak barely noticeable on the surface. 

Smack!

The reinforced gloves of Eight's new Null Armor connect cleanly with the octoling soldier's jaw, practically knocking off the hypnoshades in one swing. Freya can spot Jeanne snarl as the blow strikes true, her notably sharp looking teeth poking out as she does so. 

Holy shit. That’s kind of-  

Before Freya can complete her thought, the octoling soldier lets out a shrill sound as she grabs Jeanne. The two grapple, trying to force the other to submit. Diving into the path Eight left, Three swims to close the distance between the two. Bursting out of the ink, her Octobrush rests in her hand firmly as she swings, striking the enemy soldier across the face. Howling in pain, the girl releases Jeanne and takes a few steps back.

Behind her, she can hear the two octoling girls cheer on the agents. 

“You okay?” Freya breathes out, helping Jeanne up. She doesn’t seem injured. 

“Yes. Thank you, Three- Look out!” Jeanne switches to her Bamboozler, the weapon easily charging as she fires at an incoming soldier on her right. 

Freya feels clawed hands grabbing hold of her hero suit from her left. She swears aloud as razor sharp nails pierce through the fabric of the suit rather easily. How many are there?! Five octolings are grasping at her, trying to restrain her. 

You’re going to die here. The voice in the back of her head speaks up suddenly. You're outnumbered.

Panic fires off signals in Three’s head. Hands moving before her brain does, Freya rips open a Splashdown special can on her belt. Light blue ink solidifies around her body as she jumps in the air, her fist raised in protest against the odds. Suspended above the mob for a brief second, if she squints, Freya can spot other groups of about twenty octolings aside from this one. 

I won’t die. Not here.

As she crashes down back to the ground, a wave of blue-green ink rises and crests, narrowly missing Jeanne. The enemy soldiers cry out in surprise as they back up, some of them caught in the riptide. They’re sprawled across the ground. Limp - but not dead.

Now's their chance.

She dives to take Jeanne by the hand. "I have a plan. We have to back up, but do you trust me?" 

It was as if Freya asked her if the sky was blue. She knew the answer before Jeanne even nodded. Three leans in with a small smile on her face, her breathing even. 

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do.” 

It takes a brief moment to give voice to her strategy. Eight nods enthusiastically as Freya's plan comes to light. The two agents caught up now, they dive back to where the octoling sisters watch. 

"You two have to run. Get as far as you can. Someone will guide you the rest of the way." Freya orders, Jeanne quickly translating. 

The sisters cry out in protest. The longer haired sister speaks rapidly, even as Jeanne tries to find the best way to interpret it. She sighs as she looks up at Freya with conflicted emotions knit into her face. Doesn't look like we're getting them out of here...

“Niu fratine Bellona esta tie.” The one with shorter hair murmurs, looking at Freya with pleading eyes. I don't understand what they're saying… A pang of guilt hits her in the pit of her stomach. 

“Agiente Three... Bonvolo, helpo nie.”

Please, help us. Even with her limited knowledge of Octa, Freya can identify a call for help. The inkling agent nods, tightening her grip on her Octobrush as she faces the approaching enemy. Jeanne switches back to her scoped charger. Slowly, slowly, the weapon whirs as it gathers power. The enemy is getting closer.

“Mie faores kione mi povase.” I’ll do what I can. Freya’s Octa could use work, but she hopes it gets the point across. She hears the two thank her quietly, watching in anticipation as Freya’s brush touches the ground, the agent rolling out the cricks in her neck. “You ready, Eight?” 

“Jes.” Despite the circumstances, Jeanne smiles. In the late afternoon light of the canyon, it makes Freya wish she had enough time to appreciate it in earnest. Her charger beeps as it reaches max power. “On your mark.”

A second passes as Freya drops a Squid Beakon behind her. She can spot the glare of the hypnoshade lenses almost blurring together as twenty, maybe thirty octolings group up. They intend to take us down in sheer numbers? They should’ve brought more.  

“Now!” 

The Custom E-liter fires off, striking four octolings in the leg or thigh. Using this as an opening, Freya drops down into the ink as she snakes in, ignoring the tingling feeling the blue-green tinted ink crawls over her skin when she swims through it. 

“Agent One, Agent Two, what’s your ETA?” Three shouts as she bursts out of the ground, her Octobrush making quick work of three enemies closing in on the octoling sisters. 

Freya doesn’t catch the response over the fighting.

“DUCK!” Jeanne shouts. Freya does not need to be told twice as the inkling rolls out of the way. Behind her is the unmistakable sound of pressurized ink colliding as Agent Eight fires off a shot that connects cleanly with an octoling soldier’s shoulder. 

“Thank you!” Three grits her teeth as she brings her brush down, striking another octoling with the “pommel” of her weapon. They go down like a sack of potatoes. “You know, if they were gonna make us fight this hard for our first mission back, maybe I wouldn’t have gotten the Galactic.”

If she strains to hear it over the cacophony of battle, Freya can hear Jeanne’s bell-like laugh. 

“Three! We’re on our way, just hold out a little while longer!” Callie’s voice crackles over the communicator line, urgency in her voice. Had she kept the line open while she’s been fighting? 

“Okay, I’ll do what I can!” 

Backup is on the way, which means now Three can go crazy. 

With caution thrown to the wind, Freya’s eyes narrow as she tightens the grip on her weapon.

The faces begin to blur together as she swings her illegal brush with reckless abandon, the ink pH harsh enough to make the enemy reel back in pain, but not enough to splat them. 

You should be aiming to kill. They will kill you. They don’t deserve your mercy.

Pain spikes behind her right eye, making her miss an incoming soldier. The octoling she missed shoots with an Octarian army version of a Blaster, striking Freya in the chest with a grunt.

The hero suit rings out a warning in her headset, informing her that her armor is down to 87%. Freya swears aloud.

She doesn’t have a choice. “Eight, tell them to get out of here! They need to run!” 

“They say they are not leaving without their sister!” Jeanne’s voice comes on over the communicator line, Freya realizing she’s about half a mile away from the girls now. She can spot Jeanne’s charger providing some support, striking down a few enemies behind her.

“Well, where is she?!” 

A pause. 

Freya’s hero suit whirs as it attempts to recharge. The enemies are closing in on her now, even with the power of her Octobrush forcing them back. 

“She is - she’s the one I punched!” Jeanne shouts, almost horrified. “She’s the one leading the charge!” 

Ah. This is going to be a lot more difficult then.  

“Look out, I’m gonna pop a special!” Freya warns, her hand going to her belt. The other special can she has on her is ripped open, ink bursting out of it. The blue ink instantly solidifies in the shape of an Inkjet, roaring to life as Freya locks herself into the device. She sweeps upwards, barely avoiding the mob threatening to dogpile her.

Above the soldiers now, Freya grits her teeth as she fires a few shots below her to try to get the enemy to disperse. They fly back as the ink explodes, panic rising in the group. 

Looks like there’s nine left in this squadron. She can spot the two other groups of twenty alerted by the carnage taking place here. They approach from about a mile away, giving Freya a short amount of time to scour the group she’s currently fighting for the girl the sisters are looking for. 

A powerful shot of blue ink arches below her, knocking back two soldiers about to grab onto Freya’s legs in an attempt to ground her. “Thank you!” Freya shouts, hoping Jeanne can hear her. 

As it stands, the two groups are at a stalemate. 

Freya lets her body go on autopilot as she thinks about the situation. Occasionally as she watches the battlefield, she fires a blast over in the direction of Jeanne and the octoling sisters to deter the enemy from heading in that direction. 

Where the hell are they? Callie and Marie should be here by now. If I get splatted here, I’ll end up back at Tentakeel Outpost...but the jump to here is too far. I wouldn’t make it in one piece unless I take a detour to Slimeskin Garrison, but I might attract more attention that way. 

The Inkjet veers as Freya dodges Blaster fire, making her hero suit chime out. ‘Armor at 100%. Special charging…’  

Freya’s grip on the triggers for the Inkjet tighten. If I attract more attention, it could be the end of us. Since the sisters don’t have ink tanks, let alone know where Cuttlefish Cabin is, they’d die, even if Callie and Marie get here after we’re splatted. 

I can’t let that happen.

All of a sudden, blinding pain shoots through her back. Freya can’t help but let a scream loose as her Inkjet drops in altitude, nearly in the reach of the enemy forces as the device spits out smoke.

“Look out!” Jeanne shouts, the unmistakable sound of a specials can being torn open accompanying her voice over the line. There’s a loud vrrrrrr as her Stingray charges, then a piercing shriek as the weapon fires a wide blue beam across the battlefield. 

A beat passes and the beam suddenly gains power, a shockwave joining the shot.
Behind Jeanne, Freya can spot the two octoling sisters protecting her as she fires the Stingray. 

Good thing, too. I have to jump…  

In a graceful arc, Freya yanks on the self-destruct tab of her Inkjet. All at once, she shifts into squid form to detach from it as the weapon beeps with a high keen. As Freya touches down once more on solid ground, a few paces away from her the Inkjet hits the ground and explodes in a shower of ink. Three can’t help but smirk as it knocks the rest of the first squadron out. 

“Agent Three, look out!”

Her smile wipes off her face as she turns to see the second and third squadrons at her heels. 

“Fuck!” 

Three dives beneath the safety of Jeanne’s Stingray blast, swimming as fast as she can to reconvene with Eight and the octoling sisters. Right as she arrives and drops another Squid Beakon, the Stingray sputters out and melts back away into ink. 

“I just have two more specials left. WIll that be enough to stop them?” Jeanne asks, checking Freya’s ink tank for a brief moment to inspect for damage from the shot. 

It will not be enough. Even in denial, you know it to be true. 

“We have to try.” Freya says aloud, trying to ignore the nagging voice in the back of her head. She has much less success ignoring the growing headache beginning to form behind her eyes. She holds Jeanne by the shoulders firmly. “I’m going to do something risky to keep them back. You just try to stay safe and cover me. If I get splatted, try to hold out until Agent 1 and 2 get here. Okay?” 

"What do you mean?" Jeanne's eyes are wide, scanning her face for answers. 

"I'm going to do something I haven't done in a while. Please, be careful. Be safe. For me." Freya turns away now, picking up her brush. She spots the two incoming groups not far away now, covering up territory Freya covered in her attack. "Keep them safe." 

She can hear Jeanne cry out in protest.

The blood is rushing to her head. 

You are going to get yourself killed.

The inkling's brush flies, covering up as much as she can to give the girls some breathing room. An enemy soldier dives in to slash at Freya, aiming to snap the straps off her ink tank, but they're just a moment too slow. Agent Three backhands the enemy octoling, the poor girl knocking into two other hypnotized soldiers. 

'Special charged to completion. Awaiting command…'  

Her tentacles bristle as Freya's heartbeat doubles up. The boiling sensation in her hair makes her head spin. 

"Jeanne, stay back!" Freya shouts, throwing caution to the wind as she now charges headfirst into the enemy, her brush spurring her on with great speed. 

"What are you doing?! Freya! Stop!"  

Fired at from all sides, yet gaining the full attention of the enemy, Three pushes onward. 

Not yet. Three...two…

Her armor alerts shriek in her ear, loudly declaring her only protection from enemy ink is quickly deteriorating. '72%...56%...38%...'

One.

Something snaps within her. 

With a loud keen, Three dips down as she is forced into squid form. Her ink solidifies around her body, making the fin stop her mantle unnaturally sharp. 

Gasps of shock ring out around her. 

Now nearly twice her usual size, Freya darts out and strikes the nearby soldiers with just the force of her body in Kraken form. As she jumps off of the ground, swirls of ink fire off of her body. 

Her mind feels hazy as she frenzies, trying to knock down as many of the remaining soldiers she can. 

You're truly idiotic. Why are you holding back? Why are you sparing these lower lifeforms? 

They deserve a second chance, Freya bites back. The bulk of her form spirals as her longer tentacles smack an octoling soldier in the face, making the inkling almost feel bad. They aren't doing this because they want to.

They will kill you. When they get the chance, they will not waste it. 

Freya resists the urge to scream as she fights on, trying to keep her concentration focused on the fight. 

If I don't get it together, Jeanne and those girls will die. Get it together, Freya. Come on- You're their only hope until your sisters get here.

Swerving in and out of enemy lines, the Kraken leaves a scalding trail of blue ink in her wake. Three can feel the power of her special begin to ebb away, signaling the tail end of her boost. She can't see how many are left clearly from the ground - she can't afford to take the time to stop and check. 

Please, just let me make it! I can't let her down - not when she needs me the most! 

Freya's form begins to fizzle with dissolving ink. The hardened shell encasing her squid form begins to melt away, to her frustration. 

Nnno no nono no no- Not now, please! Just a little while longer! I can stop them, I can do it! 

A cry forces its way out of Three as she tries to keep the form for just a bit longer, straining herself with what little the special has left. Distantly, she hears Jeanne cry out.

She's counting on-

With a sickening crack, Freya's Kraken form shatters, booting her into humanoid form from the strain she put on it. 

I've had enough of watching your pathetic performance.

Blinding pain, piercing pain spikes behind her eyes. Freya's vision blurs as she screams, her hands scrambling to attempt to provide relief - to no avail. She can't move. She can barely register hands quickly grabbing hold of her, sharp fingernails piercing through her hero suit as they force her to the ground, ringing in her ears and-

And above it all, a mournful cry as her weapon clatters to the ground.

"FREYA NO! NOOOOO!" 

"Freya!"  

Marie?

"We're here!" 

Callie…

Unable to speak, unable to move, Freya lies on the ground in the worst pain she's been in her entire life. 

"Octo Canyon, get ready!" 

Bass rumbles out, summoned by the two singers. 

"Ya, weni marei, mirekyarahire, juri, yu mirekerason - 🎵"

"Kire, hyari,  yoriherahe nyurahera / Nunnyura unera yurawera nyimerani! 🎶" 

Three forces her eyes open, barely able to see the octolings around her frozen in place as their hypnoshades pour out smoke, struggling against the divine power of the Calamari Inkantation. 

The hands restraining her slack, giving her the opening she needs to drag herself out of their immediate grip. 

Three can't stand. She reaches out with a trembling hand to the sound of her sisters-in-arms singing their improvised duet, begging someone - even the stupid fax machine in the sky - to help her.

She can feel gentle hands pick her up, easily carrying her in their arms. Freya can't tell who it is, but she has a few ideas as to who. She grinds out a pained 'thank you' as the figure practically cradles her, their feet rushing to take them closer to the source of the music. 

Freya's eyes burn. Her head feels too hot, too dizzy. A cool hand touches her forehead, hushed voices murmuring in worry drowned out by the singing. 

This fucking hurts.

While it barely takes about two minutes, it feels like the singing took an eternity with Freya in pain. She hears the crack of hypnoshades overheating, malfunctioning, self-destructing. The chorus of the hypnotic lenses backfiring is followed by the mass of enemy octolings suddenly awake, aware, and free to be who they want. The group cheers, making Three's ears flatten against her head in protest. 

Everything feels like too much right now.

"Oh my Cod, Three, are you okay?!" Callie's voice cuts through the cacophonous celebration, making Freya sigh in relief internally. 

"No. Feel like shit," she forces herself to speak aloud, her head feeling fit to burst right open this instant. 

"You look like you're half dead...what the hell did you do?" Marie's cool voice responds, instilling calm into Three. 

'Agents 1, 2, 3, 8, backup is headed your way.' Sheldon's voice pops and cracks over Freya's headset, making the inkling whine as she tries to claw it off. She feels someone pull the offending item off of her, making her migraine lessen just a bit. 

Drip, drip. 

Liquid hits her face - is it rain? No, wait, they're tears. 

"I, I thought you were going to die out there!" Jeanne's voice weeps, much closer than the others. "Freya, you shouldn’t have-" 

"Hey hey, it's okay…" Callie comforts her, the pop star's voice surprisingly soft. "Eight, she would've ended up back at Cuttlefish Cabin. She would've been okay." 

Three feels Marie's arms - strong, reliable, just like her - pull her out of Jeanne's hold as the octoling hugs Callie tightly, sobbing just a little. This was one hell of a stressful first mission. 

"Three… that was stupid." Marie grumbles, pressing something cold to Freya's forehead. 

"I had t' do somethin'." Freya slurs, her eyes creaking open. The green idol stares her down, frowning as she blocks the remaining sunlight from hitting Freya in the face. The sky is a deep purple, mottled with orange clouds.

Marie sighs, holding a hand to her temple. "I can't believe you...first us, then the captain, and now Jeanne? You have to value your life too, Frey'." 

"I do though." 

"Ugh, there's no point...I'd feel bad if I lectured you while you're clearly not in the shape to get irritated by it. Can you get up?" Marie kneels, lowering Freya's legs to the ground. 

"I can try…" 

Shaky yet able to keep it together, Freya sways as she stands on her own. 

"Good. You feel a dizzy spell come on, you let us know." Marie stands, leaving Freya to fend for herself as Jeanne lets go of Callie. "Cal', let's get them all lined up to head to Tentakeel Outpost." 

"Got it! Jeanne, keep an eye on Freya while we take care of them, okay?" 

"Yes...yes, I understand!" 

The pop duo flash Jeanne a thumbs up, heading over to the dazed octoling soldiers. In an instant, Eight is beside Three, watching her intently. 

"You are okay now...yes?" She asks, her brown eyes tinged with worry.

Fuck, I feel bad now.  

"Getting better...my head feels like it's gonna explode." 

The celebration of the newly liberated octolings suddenly ramps up in volume, making Freya squeeze her eyes shut. "Ugh...this sucks. I can't even enjoy this little victory 'cause my head hurts." 

Jeanne's warm hand, lightly calloused from weapon use the past while, envelops Freya's. She gives it a pat, a shaky smile on her face. 

"It's okay. Just-" 

"Oktaria! Agiente Oktaria!" The sisters from before call out, waving as they flag Jeanne's attention down. 

The two sisters head in their direction, a third in tow. "Agiente Oktaria, Agiente Three, dakio pro via helpo!" 

"Oh. Oh, um... They're thanking us for our help, Freya." Jeanne translates, shyly twirling a tentacle. She speaks in Octa for a brief moment as the sisters introduce themselves formally. "These two are Cordelia and Aurelia, and...their little sister Bellona." 

The shorter haired octoling - Aurelia, Aurelia is her name - smirks.

"Agiente. Bonvolu dakio vian ko’ramikino pro ni." 

At that, Jeanne turns beet red. 

"K-ko'ramikino? Ne ne, Agiente-"  

The octoling sisters laugh, tittering something in Octa as Freya thinks.

My head...what did you do? Did you do that?

Hmph. You would have died if those girls did not appear when they did.

I called them. They will always show up. Now, leave me alone. This is my brain.

We'll see how long you last. Call it a test, if you will.

Go fuck yourself, whoever you are. Stop bothering me. Don’t hurt Jeanne.  

"Ooookay, we are leaving!" Jeanne's voice snaps Freya out of her internal spitting match. The octoling's face is a bright red as she gently pushes Freya, guiding her along. "Goodbye Cordelia, Aurelia, Bellona!" 

Guess she's shy.

-🦑- 

Despite saying her goodbyes to the octoling sisters, they ended up trailing Jeanne as she helped to guide the group of newly liberated octoling soldiers to Inkopolis. 

The sun has set. 

Callie and Marie are inside the cabin, filling out a mission report for Sheldon. Meanwhile, the octoling soldiers are lined up to take their first steps toward a new life, free of their tyrant king. 

Freya watches from afar as she’s slumped over the bench in front of Cuttlefish Cabin, eyes drooping as she observes Pearl handing out little purses of money to each octoling. 

“It’s just a little something to start you up on the surface. Get an ID, a place to live...then you’re free to spend the rest of it how you want. Don’t worry about paying it back, okay?” 

That’s very kind of her.
Pearl is quickly embraced by several of the octolings, the rap princess almost eclipsed by soldiers expressing their gratitude. Freya can’t help but laugh, making her headache spike at the action. 

“Ugh, fuck…” Holding a hand to her head, the agent feels the clammy yet boiling surface of her skin. Freya can feel she's starting to break out in a sweat. Her longer tentacles start to form a thin layer of slime at the edges, making the inkling cuss herself out. 

Come on, keep it together a while longer. Once this mission is over, you can go home, and…

Jeanne is standing beside Pearl and Marina, a few pouches with the Houzuki family crest emblazoned on them in her arms. The group of soldiers begins to thin out, the last to leave being the three octoling sisters. 

Freya can barely hear them speaking. She watches them mumble something hushed to Jeanne, but Marina catches it and holds the agent at the shoulders with a bewildered look on her face. The sisters giggle, seeming to pass on words of encouragement as they shake hands with the trio. 

Bellona is waving in her direction. Her sisters join in, causing Jeanne and Off the Hook to look at her.

Oh. 

She's waving at ME.  

A hand goes up to wave halfheartedly back, Freya suddenly very shy. The girls then giggle, thanking the NSS once more as they make their way to the sewer pipe leading to Inkopolis Square. 

With that, all of the newly freed soldiers have gone. 

Good...I didn't want them to get hurt. 

She can see Jeanne talking with Off the Hook, the duo clearly teasing her about something. Freya feels so very out of the loop. 

Come on, get up…

She grips the wooden bench as firmly as possible as Three tries to make her legs move. The limbs refuse to budge. Her whole body feels like lead. 

"Jeanne. Jeanne, I think…" Freya mumbles, trying to get the girl's attention. 

The octoling girl looks in her direction, her face mid-laugh. 

Her head feels like it's underwater. Her grip on the bench breaks, Freya's arms giving out as she stumbles forward. The ground closes in.

Her vision goes black.

-🦑- 

She comes to in a dark room. 

Freya’s limbs feel heavy as she squints in the low light, trying to take in the scenery. Her eye aches dully.  

Ahead of her are the shattered remains of a broken blender. 

Real original, she thinks, eyes narrowing at the shards of glass scattered across the ground. 

She never was conscious in this part of Kamabo. She doesn’t remember staying in the subway station at all. The only instance Freya can think of when it comes to the platform is the nightmare she had a few days prior. 

Wait, I’m dreaming. I’m asleep. This isn’t real. Three moves to stand, quickly finding resistance. She looks down, realizing she’s strapped to a chair. This isn’t real-

Freya hears the unmistakable sound of ink bursting out of the machine from her last nightmare. Her blood runs cold. The inkling thrashes as she tries to get herself loose, but the restraints are too tight. “Rrgh, come on - wake up! This isn’t real, Freya!”  

In the dim light of the metro station, the form of Jeanne rises from the ink. Freya’s breath catches in her throat. ‘Jeanne’ stumbles into the flickering light beneath a dying bulb, the octoling’s coloration the same as Freya’s previous night terror. Eyes as black as the void stare into hers, a sharp contrast to the clammy green shade of her skin. 

“I know you’re not real!” Freya cries out, glaring at the approaching sanitized octoling. “You’re just… You’re just some fake! This is just my head messing with me!” 

Her words fall on deaf ears. 

The eerie figure looms over Freya, their hands raising. As the dreamed up terror opens its mouth, a droning sound of a phone tone - the kind you hear when the line is busy - rings out instead of a voice. 

Freya’s ears flatten, straining at the sound. Her eyes shut as the inkling tries to curl up as best as she can. Her body refuses to obey her to shift into squid form, causing panic to spread through Three’s mind.  

A clawed hand grabs her roughly by the chin. There’s the sickening  drip drip of thick ink hitting the rough tiled floor beneath her. She can feel a thumb gently touching the abraded skin beneath her right eye. 

Fearfully, Freya pries her eyes open. 

The face of Jeanne has melted away, the dark blue shade of her hair extending downward. Pitch black eyes are connected with a dark line across the bridge of her nose. 

Freya stares down a sanitized version of herself. 

“You...You’re not-”  It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not-

The mirrored terror shrieks in her face, her fingertips suddenly spiking out with spears of blue-green ink. In a swift motion, it tears at her eye, easily rending the flesh- 

“AAAAAUGH!” Freya jolts awake, a scream tearing its way out of her throat. She doesn’t remember falling asleep. She doesn’t remember where she is- 

Heavy sweat sticks the fabric of a loose tee to her skin. She’s not in agent gear. Three kicks off the covers of the cot she’s on, her eyes darting to figure out where she is as she nearly knocks over a metal bucket left nearby. 

She smells miso soup. In another room, she can hear Captain Cuttlefish humming. Not far away from her is Marie’s pet bug.

“Three? You okay?” Marie’s voice cuts through the fog threatening to close in on Freya’s brain. She feels an odd taste in her mouth. Wait, I’m gonna-

Three doubles over, gagging with a hand over her mouth. She barely registers Marie’s hurried footsteps as the metal bucket from before is shoved in front of her before Freya retches loudly. The stinging taste of hand sanitizer - Why hand sanitizer? - sears Freya’s throat and nose as she vomits. 

“Shh shh, it’s okay, just… Keep doing what you’re doing. Breathe.” Marie soothes, pulling Freya’s tentacles back behind her head as she rubs her back with gloved hands. Three coughs wetly, gasping for breath before another wave pushes itself out of her. 

It feels like an eternity, but eventually the horrid event passes. 

Marie gently cleans off Freya’s face, the inkling too exhausted to protest. “Ugh… You look terrible, Frey’.” The older inkling pulls Three’s shirt off to exchange it for a fresh one, making her mumble in thanks as cool fabric meets her feverish skin. 

“Wha’ happened?” Freya croaks, laying back down on the futon. My head is killing me... She hears padding footsteps heading their way. 

Craig, good old reliable Grandpa Craig, walks in with a tray. She spots a bowl and a glass of orange juice, alongside a cup of what might be tea. The elderly man kneels beside Freya, propping up the tray on her lap. 

“What happened? You passed out is what happened!” Marie looks visibly pissed, and with good reason. “As soon as the octoling soldiers left, you just knocked the fuck out! You scared Jeanne badly, but… It looks like you have a pretty nasty bug. You have a fever.” 

“You might have broken through the worst of it, but you are in no shape to get up right now, kiddo.” Craig settles down a spoon into her bowl of miso soup, stirring up strands of wakame seaweed and cubes of tofu in the fragrant liquid. “You’re safe here, though. We’re in Cuttlefish Cabin.”

Freya is quiet as she looks around the room of the cabin. 

“Is it just...the three of us here right now? What time is it?” 

“It’s just us. Callie took Jeanne to get something to eat. It’s almost 8:30. You’ve been out for about two hours.” Marie almost crosses her arms, but remembers her gloves and keeps them away from her body. “You shouldn’t have used the Kraken. You know it’s outlawed for a reason in Inkopolis Square.” 

Oh boy…

“I did what had to be done, Marie. Whatever means necessary.” 

Craig sighs at that. “You know her, Agent Two. She’s stubborn. Too stubborn for her own good, if you ask me, and she always will be.” 

“Yeah, I’m stubborn, but I get results.” Freya frowns, taking a slow sip of orange juice. Eugh, pulp. “It doesn’t matter what happens to me.” 

“Actually, I think you’ll find it does matter. Jeez, Three…” Marie sighs in frustration. “You have to actually think about things. I don’t think it was a good idea to let you do missions so soon after Kamabo.” 

“You already know I’m gonna answer the call no matter what.” Freya narrows her eyes, challenging her fellow NSS members. “You know that.” 

“Ugh, I know.” 

“That’s Freya for you…” 

Are they backing down because they've accepted it by now, or are they backing down because I’m sick?  

“You have a high fever, Freya. You need to sleep in an actual bed tonight.” Marie grumbles, dropping out the previous argument altogether. 

“I don’t wanna impose on Jeanne, though…” 

“Doesn’t matter! Rest is important, Agent Three.” Craig lightly pats Freya’s back, making the inkling wobble as she tries to keep staying seated. 

“But-”

“No buts. If you need a bigger bed, just let me know. I’ll pay for it myself.” Marie frowns. “If you’re not comfortable - which that old couch can’t possibly be - you won’t heal up faster.” 

“Are you saying I should be-?”

“You two are good roommates. It can’t be that awkward sleeping in the same bed, right?” 

Captain Cuttlefish watches with what absolutely looks like amusement as Freya’s face burns up with an orange tinge. She sputters, feeling her heart skip a beat. “I’m sorry?” 

“Sleep. With. Jeanne. She won’t mind it at all. If you don’t want to subject her to the couch, you can handle a little sleepover.” 

“How do you know that?! And, and I um, I’m a kicker! I kick in my sleep!”

“Eh, nothing some Nyquil can’t fix.” 

“Graaaaamps!” Freya cries out, begging for Cuttlefish to intervene. 

The elderly inkling feigns innocence as he looks up from stirring Freya’s miso soup. “Now now, settle down you two. She’s right and you know it Freya. Marie just wants you to be well rested.”

“What?!” 

“Gramps cares about you just as much as I do. Probably even more than I do. You know that! So listen to us.” Marie huffs, a slight hint of smugness in her voice. The two Cuttlefish share a look, almost like this was orchestrated.

“Agent Three, as captain of the New Squidbeak Splatoon-”

“Oh no, don’t you do it-”

“I order you to rest in a bed tonight, or be put on the backlines for an entire week!”

“NOOOO! Rrrgh, I hate it when you do that! How dare you people care about me!” Three protests, throwing herself into a laying down position in a dramatic fit. 

“Checkmate, Frey’. Captain’s orders.” Marie sounds all too happy to ignore the blatant misuse of power, almost going in to give her grandfather a high five before remembering the reason they were arguing. “Eugh, I forgot you puked everywhere. I should dump it out…” 

“I’d greatly appreciate it, kiddo.”

“On it, then.” 

Content, Craig picks up the spoon and lets the soup pool into it. Marie begins to clean up the mess left in Freya’s harsh awakening. She scoops up the discarded shirt - an old splatfest tee with a bamboo shoot on it - and leans over to pick up the bucket Freya hurled into. 

Marie halts for a second. 

Freya almost asks what’s wrong, but Craig cuts her off with an authoritative yet grandfatherly ‘say ahh’ as he feeds her soup. Three knows better than to brush him off, opening her mouth with a quiet ‘aahhh.’  

Wonderfully fragrant miso broth floods her senses, reminding Three she hasn’t eaten since lunch. Freya practically inhales the soup, easily swallowing as Craig continues to feed her. 

When she finishes the bowl and remembers what she meant to ask, Marie is gone.

I’ll ask her later. Maybe something’s wrong...but I don’t want to worry the captain. 

“You were hungry, hmm, kiddo?” Craig’s rumbly voice cuts through to her. He seems happy. “Do you want more soup?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you.” Freya shuts her eyes, sighing softly. 

“That’s okay. Just rest up, okay?” Something cold rests atop her forehead, gently sapping away the feverish heat running rampant beneath her skin. “You need to sleep a lot. You can’t save Inkopolis on a low battery.”

Tears prick at the corners of her eyes. 

Something about Craig checks all of the boxes of the beloved older relative list. Whether it’s the fact that he has two granddaughters or the fact that he’s wise, Freya feels like he’s her own grandfather as well. 

I miss...having a family that cared about me. I’m glad I have this here. I’m glad I…  

Freya drifts off to a dreamless sleep. 

-🦑💤-

Marie Cuttlefish does not speculate. 

She’s a no-nonsense kind of person, the kind who only pursues a thought when she has feasible cause to do so. She’s a hard facts kind of person. 

Despite it all, she can’t stop staring dumbfoundedly at the filthy bucket she’s hauling outside. The faucet outside the shack creaks as Marie opens the water line. Marie wrinkles her nose as the stench of what smells like bleach mixed with bile hits her again, making the inkling bite the inside of her lip. 

Lining the inside of the metal bucket, a substance that looks like blue-green ink sits atop the other  fluids Freya coughed out. Knowing better than sticking her hand into unknown liquids, even when wearing gloves, Marie stews over how to settle the situation. 

If I told Freya about this, she’d deny anything’s wrong. She’s stupid like that. What if this is why she’s so sick? Akila said…

‘She looked white as a sheet! I don’t know what it was, but after she splatted me the first time, she just froze up. She stood there as my autobomb blew her up! That’s not normal for her, right? All the splats after that, too, she was acting a little off. Then she ran off to the bathroom after!’ 

Marie grabs an empty can abandoned earlier, rinsing it in the faucet water as she checks the condition of the inside. Shiny. Not bad. “Ugh, this is gonna be so stupid, but-” 

Trying to think about literally anything but what she’s doing at the moment, Marie dips the can into the bucket. A bit of the viscous ink-like substance gets swept into the can, stinking like bleach.

Freya’s not dumb enough to drink cleaning products. This isn’t normal, but...what the hell do I do with this now? 

The stench of the bucket reminds her what she meant to do in the first place out here. Nudging the bucket under the faucet carefully with a foot, Marie thinks on what to do now. Now that I think about it, would this even be a good sample? Can this be tested?  

She hears the floorboards creak as her grandfather exits the cabin. 

“Freya’s asleep now. It took her a while, but she ate before she passed back out.” He chuckles, adjusting his glasses. 

“That’s good.” Marie shuts off the water, doing her best to ignore the way the bucket’s contents slosh. With a practiced toss, the bucket is unceremoniously emptied at the edge of Tentakeel Outpost. 

A beat of silence passes. 

“You’re worried,” Grandpa Cuttlefish starts, posing the statement like a question. 

“Yeah.”

“May I ask why?” 

Marie gnaws on the inside of her lip, a nervous habit. “It’s gonna be gross. You okay with that?” 

“You can tell me anything, kiddo. You know that, right?” Craig sits up on the bench outside the cabin, patting the space next to him. Marie leaves the bucket to fill with water again, shutting it off as it fills once more. She disposes of her gloves, leaving them draped over the pail. Finally scrubbing her hands with clean water, Marie sighs as she bridges the gap to join her grandfather. 

“Gramps...It’s gross. It’s really gross. You’re still cool with it?”

“Yes, I thought I was clear on that, Marie.”

“Sorry, it’s just…” Marie pinches the pressure point between her eyebrows, relieving the tension beginning to build there. “I...looked at the stuff Freya puked out.”

“Mhm?” 

“It’s...not normal. Not at all. It reeks of cleaning products, like that weird crap Callie bought the other day to scrub the cabin down. You and I both know Freya isn’t dumb enough to eat tide pods or bleach or something.” 

“You’re right. She’s smarter than she acts.” 

“So I just… I don’t know. What do we even do? Is there anyone we can like, talk about this to? Any hospitals that’ll see her and not freak her out or put her in debt? I don’t even know if she has health insurance after what happened with her family, Gramps.” 

There's a pause as Grandpa Cuttlefish rakes a hand through his beard, contemplating on the matter. 

"This really is a problem." He starts. "The NSS is very low profile. While we offer health insurance, Freya is still a minor. She's still marked as a dependent on her parents' taxes, most likely…" 

“Especially after she…”
Quiet settles between them. A tinge of guilt - unjustified as it is - strikes Marie. 

It’s my fault she doesn’t have health insurance. 

“Marie… Listen. I don’t know if there are even health professionals we can approach for something about this. It’s...an incredibly odd case.” The words look like they scald Grandpa Craig’s tongue as he says them. He sighs softly. “I think...this might be something related to Kamabo.”

“Kamabo?" Marie raises an eyebrow. "Why there?” 

“Think about it. Freya isn’t the kind of person to let us know about the things bothering her, but she complains when something is wrong. At the meeting the day we came back, she was whining about wanting to go home.” That’s right… “She loves being here, being with us. She only acts like that if she’s having a fight with one of us, she’s sick or if there’s some other problem.”

Marie thinks on it, recalling the last time the girls had been fighting. The last time she can remember is several months ago, when Callie had eaten the limited edition Squid Squad advertised pudding Freya had saved in the Octo Valley hub’s refrigerator for after their mission that day. The girl had been scowling during the entire recon mission, whining about how she wanted to go home the whole time. 

The issue only resolved once Callie got Freya to open up. The girls had noticed she was particularly avoiding Callie, and from there they figured it out. Callie then bought her a mini fridge’s worth of the pudding cups to make up for it, and that was the end of that fight. 

“You’re right...Something’s wrong. If she was sick, she could’ve maybe caught something from Kamabo. You guys were in there for a long time.” Marie hums as she thinks on the best course of action. “I’ll go check on how bad the damage was to NILS. NILS was the heart of Kamabo Co operations so...if we board it, we just might be able to find something.” 

“I’ll leave you to it then. I know you’ll figure things out. As for Freya… She isn’t going to like it, but I’m taking her off combat missions until we find out what’s going on. We can’t risk her getting hurt, or worse.” 

"It's for the best." 

Distantly, she can hear the clunking of pipes. 

"Someone's making their way here," Marie supplies for her grandfather. "Gotta be Callie and Jeanne." 

"Yes. It's already so late, after all...I think the only place open close by must be that food truck." Gramps' Bamboozler clanks as the barrel hits the ground, the elderly inkling rising to his feet. "I'll let you finish up out here. The girls can take Freya home…" 

"Sure. Oh, and I started the laundry, by the way." 

"You did? Thank you, kiddo. I know I can count on you." Gramps smiles, evident even with the beard. "And...Marie?"

"Yes?" 

"Please don't tell anyone else about what we spoke of...okay?" 

"Of course. You have my word." 

-🦑- 

Freya can hear the sound of the waves. 

She groans as she turns over, unable to discern where the sound is coming from. Last she was aware of, Octo Canyon didn't have any stretches of ocean in the immediate vicinity. Maybe Callie turned on her white noise playlist? How'd she figure out the password for her phone? 

Her headache has dulled to a minor annoyance for now. Freya reaches out blindly to try to find her phone, but grabs at nothing but open air.

Huh?

Forcing her eyes open, Freya squints in the darkness. She's not in Cuttlefish Cabin anymore. A sliding closet and a bedside table with a lamp and her phone atop it greet her. 

Where the hell..?

Too tired for panic, Freya pulls herself up to take in the room. She's on a firm bed. The covers are fluffy and soft to the touch, yet have a certain grain to the fabric you can only get from vendors in Prawnford. It feels like the oversized blanket she has at home with- 

Wait. Wait a minute. 

Freya freezes up, feeling like she's forgetting something. She checks her phone, the display reading 3:27 AM. There's a few new messages, but there are more pressing matters at hand.

I woke up in Cuttlefish Cabin...I threw up, and then Marie and I argued about something...but what was it about again? 

Freya's legs dangle over the edge of the bed, her bare feet meeting the cold carpeted floor. The inkling tests the equilibrium of her body for a brief second, finding she can stand on her own. Satisfied, she turns to the bed to pull the covers back to cool them off for a moment.

Her hands freeze before she even reaches for the blanket. 

In the dim light, Freya can see a form beneath the blanket. Slowly, ever so slowly, she peels back the cover.

Jeanne lies on the other side of the bed, the slope of her body rising and falling as she slumbers. Even in the darkness, Freya can spot a calm smile on her face. It looks like she's too asleep to notice Freya's movements.

(Somewhere, Team Freyanne celebrates.)

"Wh-wh-wh-" Three stutters, warmth flooding her cheeks. She??? Is??? 

The octoling's hair is down, the tentacles draping into the nape of her neck. Freya's eyes follow it to the fabric of Jeanne's shirt, a loose fitting tee with a cartoonish rendition of Judd dubbed tonight's pajamas. In the dark and unable to tear her eyes away, she can trace out every toned muscle in Jeanne's arms. They're just like her, in a way; strength hidden until it is needed. 

Am...am I a-? 

Freya quickly shuts down the thought beginning to blossom in her head, face orange as she trudges out of the room blindly. 

A quick bathroom visit later, Three groggily stares at her reflection as she scrubs her hands. The soap in the sink foams as the water runs. 

She doesn't look good at all.

Her ink is a dull orange. The space behind her eye aches in pain - it's likely what woke her up, if she was slipped any pain medication earlier and it wore off. Now that she thinks on it, Freya realizes she was probably given something from the field IVs the NSS keeps on hand. 

Closing the faucet, Freya leans in close to the mirror to get a better look at her eye. 

The skin around it seems almost angry, a bristling look to it. Her eyes both look glassy.

In other words, Freya is horribly sick and she knows it. 

What the hell am I gonna do?  

Running off her knowledge of medical history, most of the symptoms she has points to an infected abrasion wound. 

Increased tenderness, pain, fever… and if she squints, even an expanding shade of orange. 

At this point, she should be informing her doctor immediately. If she doesn't, Freya could attempt to brave through it, but...without antibiotics or a medical professional, she doubts she would have good results come from it. 

You have to call her. 

As soon as the thought surfaces, Three wants to kick herself. I don't want to, but…

Freya goes to lean against the wall of her shitty bathroom. Her body scoots down until she's sitting, her legs pressed against the cold tile.

Come on, just breathe…

Before she can back out, Freya scrolls through her contacts and picks one in particular. She almost prays that the recipient won't answer at this time of night, hoping the call will just go to voicemail. 

A shaky finger hits the call button.

It feels like time stands still for this moment. The line rings out the tones of the number, until it hums a ringback tone twice. 

Please, don't pick up. Please.

Click.

"Hello? Rán residence." A woman's voice crackles over the phone, a stern tone to it. 

Freya's voice catches in her throat. She swallows dryly as she forces the words out, feeling incredibly small. 

"Mom? ...It's me." 

Chapter Text

The subway rattles gently as the train cars pass beneath a graffitied bridge. Nestled within the morning crowd, Freya sits hunched over on a particularly uncomfortable seat as she bounces her leg idly. Fingers firmly laced together, the inkling stares down at the bland grey flooring of the train car. 

What if she says no? What will I do? I don't have any other ideas. I can't believe- 

Jeanne's warm hand cups over her own, interrupting her thoughts.

"Freya," she murmurs, her voice an earth shattering kind of quiet that drowns out the chatter around her. "Are you going to be okay? You seem to be very…" A pause. "...anxious! You seem anxious." 

Freya's tired eyes meet Jeanne's own, finding quickly that she can either stare for too long or not enough. "That's right." 

It's like she's back in the bedroom again. All of a sudden, Freya is sweating under the collar of her sweater and two hoodies. She can trace out every muscle beneath the jacket Jeanne borrowed from her closet. 

When I woke up again, Jeanne was in the living room watching TV… She smiled and said good morning in Octa… but we never discussed what happened. What does she think of it? She would’ve said something by now, right? 

"...Freya?" 

"Huh?" 

"I asked if you were feeling dizzy again. You seemed distant…" 

Oh fuck she caught me thinking about shit. 

"Sorry." Freya scratches her chin with a burnt fingertip. "I'm not dizzy, but...my head feels like it's full of cotton balls." 

"Cotton balls…" Jeanne's face lights up. "Oh! I see. I understand! Do you...need any help?" 

"Nah, we're almost there. I can tough it out a little while longer." Despite the three warm layers Freya has on, her hands and feet are still freezing. "I kind of wish I was back home." 

"I was wondering, um...who exactly are we visiting, Freya?" 

Cod, I might as well tell her, huh? Everyone else - well, except the newbies - knows about my situation...I have to deal with it eventually. 

"My mother. We had a...falling out almost two years ago." Freya's thumb runs over its burnt counterpart as the inkling tries to figure out where to start. Jeanne gives the girl a gentle pat on the shoulder as moral support. 

"When I joined the NSS, I had my whole life planned out for me. School. Turf war. Home. Sleep. Repeat. I wasn't very happy." 

She still remembers the things she was told to do, to learn. Yeah, she can speak fluent Amer, but just how often does she talk to people from across the ocean? Never. 

"School...like, military school?" Jeanne asks, watching Freya intently. The subway creaks to a stop as it lets people off at the Aquarin City subway station, but Freya stays put. It's five stations away...

"Yes and no. I was put in a pretty high brow place. The kind with school uniforms and everything. My parents planned for me to go into the military just as they did, so my education was centered on that." Freya sighs, feeling self conscious. "When I was old enough to turf on my own, I came to Inkopolis Plaza almost every day to get away from it. I was just Freya, not...some perfect child. I could screw up and mess around all I wanted.

"Summer had just hit when the Great Zapfish was taken for the first time. I remember it clearly. That day, I saw this old, filthy man with his head poking out of a manhole. He looked like he was in trouble...so naturally, I followed him into the pipes. The Captain and I have known each other since."

The subway jolts as it sets off once more, taking the girls even further from Prawnford. Oh, what she would do to be back in bed right now.

"You and Captain Cuttlefish met two years ago?" 

"Yeah. It feels like longer, if I'm perfectly honest." Almost like she's known him her whole life. "But um, I got into the NSS like that. I carried out my mission, but I wanted to stay, so I did. I got to get even closer to Gramps and Callie and Marie because of it. I started to spend more and more time in Octo Valley with them. Never told my family." 

"Really?" Jeanne asks, thoroughly invested in Freya's story. "Oh, but…" 

"Mhm, really.” Subconsciously, Three feels the left side of her neck where her scar lies. “After a pretty close call, I kind of shut down a little. Stopped trying in school. Teachers called home. Parents tried to light a fire under my ass. They kept saying things like…um..." 

Freya freezes up as Jeanne's head leans onto her shoulder. "I am listening… but you do not need to repeat it if you do not want to."

She’s so sweet…

“...Okay. Thanks.” She pauses, rubbing her cold hands together to try to warm them up. “They said something that sent me over the edge that day. I don’t remember what it was anymore...but I shouted, they shouted, and before I knew it, everything escalated and they locked me in. They didn’t let me out of the house. It was around winter break that year.” 

She still remembers it. Freya had been grounded before of course, but not to the degree that winter break had been. No technology, no contact with the outside world, practically no hobbies she could pursue, and no turf war. No New Squidbeak Splatoon - but her family never knew about that secret part of her life.  

“I thought they had taken everything I could use to call people, but I found one of my broken NSS headsets hidden in my closet. It was just a cosmetic issue, but...I liked how it looked, so I didn’t want to trash it. The communicator still worked, so I tried to see if anybody was listening.”

‘Mom and Dad locked me in. I can’t leave the house. I can’t go anywhere. Can you guys hear me?’ She had said that night, after she was certain her parents were asleep. 

‘They did WHAT?’ 

That night, relationships that were merely professional before became something tight knit and familial. The Squid Sisters broke her out of her home. Freya remembers the rush as she left. 

“I ran away. I didn’t have to worry about my parents tracking me since they took my phone. For a few months I lived with Captain Cuttlefish as I looked for a place to live.” I got to be free to do what I wanted. “I was smart with my money at least, so I saved almost everything I got from the NSS paychecks. Everything there paid off.” 

“So then…” Jeanne squints a little as she tries to process this. “That is why you are anxious.” 

Freya nods. She reaches her neck to look at the name of the upcoming stop. Caershire - they’re three stops away. “I didn’t call. Didn’t write. Dropped out of school. I only called my mother yesterday, and she totally thought I was pranking her and yelled at me, saying I was insensitive for imitating her daughter… So I have to go and see her in person.” 

“Why?” 

The question hangs over her head like a guillotine. She was pretty honest for the past while - but does Freya really want to worry Jeanne right now? Either way, lying about things for the past while has been weighing her down. 

I think I need to tell the truth here...

“I...don’t feel very good. My mom’s a nurse, for the ER. That’s where people hurt in accidents come into hospitals for care, when they can’t wait anymore.” The subway comes to a halt at Caershire station, waiting as passengers depart and board. “I can’t go to the hospital, so...I’m going straight to her.”

Jeanne’s eyes widen in shock. “Really? Are you sure about that? We...cannot tell your mother we are in the NSS though, correct?” 

“That’s right...basically, after all this time, I’m gonna lie to her about why I’m sick. Or like, injured. I think I have an infected wound. You need prescribed medicine for that. Mom can’t prescribe medicine to people since she isn’t a doctor, but whenever mom wasn’t working at the ER, she was volunteering with this group...they would help get medicine to people that needed it.” Of course, I never paid attention to who the other members were, so...

Cod, I’m one hell of a disappointment to my parents.

The subway train begins to creak into motion once more, the announcer declaring their next stop is Swanford. 

“Um…” Jeanne looks down at her hands, almost clasped together in prayer. “Is your mother...the only place we can go?” 

“Are you worried?”

“...Yes.” The octoling admits, a guilty look on her face. “What if she...what if she tries to lock you up again? You didn’t tell any of the others where we were going. I’m here too, but…”

“Hey hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to worry.” Freya wraps her hands - frigid as they are - around Jeanne’s. She’s so warm, Three notes. “I’m doing this because of the people that care about me. I can’t do this without getting looked at by a medical professional...but the only one I know that would see me for free is my mother.” 

Eight is quiet. She unfolds her hands, shifting to hold Freya’s within them. “...Okay. I trust you.” 

The subway train stops once more at Swanford. The next stop is theirs. 

“You know, Jeanne...I’m glad you’re the one who came with me.” Freya murmurs, leaning her head back onto the subway seat. 

“You are?”

“Yeah. You’re honest. You make me think about consequences. I wouldn’t have done this if…” Freya trails off, her face orange. “I-if everybody wasn’t so insistent on making me take care of myself.”

“I am glad that you are. You are very…” Jeanne’s face tinges red, her hands tightening around Freya’s. “Very...important to me.” 

The two sit in a warm, comforting silence as the train moves again. 

This is...nice. 

I wonder...will Mom like Jeanne? This feels almost like…

“Oh fuck, I almost forgot!” Freya jets up, startling the people around her. She shifts, pulling her bag out from beneath the seat. The inkling rifles through the pockets of it, plucking out a stick of unopened eyeliner she got from Callie last Squidmas.  

“What is that?” Jeanne asks, staring at the stick as Freya struggles with the plastic casing. 

“Makeup. Mom fought octolings years ago. Even though things are very different now, it’s better to be safe than sorry.” The casing finally breaks, letting Freya free the makeup from its plastic prison. “Hold still. I’m not the best at eyeliner, let alone any form of makeup, but I think I can handle this…” 

Jeanne complies. Despite the rumbling of the subway car, Freya’s steady hand draws a line to connect Jeanne’s eyes. The color blends in rather easily with the octoling’s eye mask, giving her the illusion that she is an inkling. 

Her eyes are so pretty. Freya keeps the pen steady, beginning to fill in the lines. Such a lovely shade of brown… I wonder if she got that from her parents? 

“Aaand...done. There we go, Jeanne.” Freya opens her phone, showing her the result. 

“Oh! I look just like you now!” A smile graces Jeanne’s face, making Freya’s heart skip a beat. “This will work?”

“Yeah, it should. I doubt she’d be scrutinizing you as much as she will me. We’re good.” 

“I see!” Jeanne stares at her reflection in the phone, smiling widely as she pokes the line with a finger. “Oh, it smudges. It is temporary, yes?”

“Yep. When we’re on our way home, I can clean it off.” 

“Okay! I will not touch it then.”

The subway trails to a stop.
“We have arrived at Wellspring City. Please watch your step as you depart from the train car…” The announcer crackles over the intercom as the doors open, people beginning to flow out. 

“Here’s our stop. Don’t forget anything in here, okay?” 

“I won’t.” 

The two step out of the train, sure to keep their possessions on their person. The station is nearly spotless, an almost surgical look to it. No graffiti or local art adorn the walls. Jeanne makes an almost disappointed face at that.

"Let's go. I'll lead the way." Freya holds her hand out as she adjusts her bag over her shoulder. 

Jeanne holds it, a warm feeling tickling Freya's heart. "Understood." 

The girls depart from the station. The subway station connects directly to a beautiful plaza, crowned with a wide fountain in the center. Cars drive by with the hum of traffic. As Freya and Jeanne walk, they're met with the sound of gently running water. Above the street running along the sidewalks are aqueducts, built in ancient times when cephalopod-kind used to need water for electricity. They serve both as an aesthetic choice and as a back-up plan to the power system in the event the zapfish disappears a third time. 

"Welcome to Wellspring City, Jeanne." Freya murmurs, letting the octoling take in the sights. 

"This is where you grew up…" Eight breathes out, her eyes excited as they follow the aqueducts. "How beautiful." 

"It's pretty, but nothing like Prawnford." Three smiles as she leads, passing the large fountain. A plaque declares this is the site where a legendary battle took place in the Great Turf War - but Freya doesn't recall that in history. 

"Over there is the hospital Mom works at," Freya says as she points to a large building in the distance. "We're not heading there today, but it's still pretty impressive." 

"So that is the hospital...I see." Jeanne drinks in her surroundings, committing them to memory. "This place, does it truly have gross food?"

"Ehh, I guess so. I've never had any of the stuff there cause I never stayed at a hospital overnight." Freya guides Jeanne's hand as they walk to the traffic light. 

She spots a jumping fountain a few paces away, almost unable to resist the allure. "Hey, Jeanne. Watch this." 

Taking a running start, Freya jumps right into the center of the jumping fountain. Water shoots out over her, gracefully jetting back into the ground with the pull of gravity. 

Jeanne lets out an excited yell, running to join her. "You have a magic floor!" She shouts, nearly getting nailed in the face by a jet of frigid water. "Did you always have a magic floor?!" 

"Hah, maybe." Freya pulls her in, saving the octoling from another spot propelling water out. "Isn't it cool? Wellspring City has things like this everywhere. The water is where we emerged from, many years ago...yet we keep it as a part of us here." 

"This is beautiful, Freya…" Beneath the spray, Jeanne looks upwards as the water flies. "Oh, but put your hood on! You will get worse in the water." 

"Alright, alright." 

-🦑-

■Webmaster■ > MarieCuttlefish has joined the chatroom.

MarieCuttlefish > Hello? Marina?

■Webmaster■ > DJ_Hyperfresh has joined the chatroom.

DJ_Hyperfresh > I'm here! You wanted to talk, Marie?

MarieCuttlefish > that's right. 

MarieCuttlefish > oh, good morning by the way. Sorry, I haven't exactly slept since last night.

DJ_Hyperfresh > mmmm, you should sleep?? 

DJ_Hyperfresh > or at least take a nap! ^_^ 

MarieCuttlefish > I will, just later. Got work to do.

MarieCuttlefish > Anyway, I wanted to ask about some things regarding Kamabo in further detail. 

MarieCuttlefish > Since you and Pearl were spectating Eight the whole time, you probably noticed a lot of stuff.

DJ_Hyperfresh > That's right! ^◇^

MarieCuttlefish > So then...I've been wondering about Commander Tartar. 

MarieCuttlefish > He was an AI who oversaw testing and other affairs at Kamabo...correct? 

DJ_Hyperfresh > Yes. 

DJ_Hyperfresh > The test subjects that were smart enough to collect the Thangs were killed for his ultimate plan. Using the genetic material from the test subjects, he created a "perfect lifeform."

MarieCuttlefish > and those are the sanitized octarians underground.

DJ_Hyperfresh > ...yes. 

DJ_Hyperfresh > When I checked scans in battle, there wasn't ever a pulse. No signs of life. It's safe to hypothesize the genetic material from the former test subjects replaced their own sense of self…

DJ_Hyperfresh > At least, that's what I think. Every sanitized octoling Eight crossed paths with seemed so empty, like there wasn't anything left.

DJ_Hyperfresh > there was a sanitized octoling  that was a musician down there, too. The deepsea metro citizens called her Dedf1sh. Eight never saw her in person, but it sounded a lot like she was always watching, based on how her music played almost everywhere Jeanne went.

MarieCuttlefish > Do you think Dedf1sh could be a threat? 

DJ_Hyperfresh > Well...yes and no. I think Dedf1sh acts like Turquoise October does for the Octarian forces. 

DJ_Hyperfresh > Controlling the masses through music, sending out combat orders, other  instructions…

DJ_Hyperfresh > But I think that Dedf1sh was sort of...conscious? That probably doesn't make sense hdhshshdhd >_< 

MarieCuttlefish > it's okay. It's kind of early still, so I don't blame you. 

MarieCuttlefish > Do you think it'd be a good idea to just take out Dedf1sh then? Since she's commanding them?

DJ_Hyperfresh > Definitely. We could even see if there's anything we can do to help them…

DJ_Hyperfresh > The sanitized octarians are  hollow, but they used to be people. In a way, they never truly escaped dictatorship…

DJ_Hyperfresh > If there's anything we can do, I want to do it. 

MarieCuttlefish > Thank you for answering my questions. I'll keep in touch, okay? 

DJ_Hyperfresh > Okay! See you, Marie!

■Webmaster■ > MarieCuttlefish has left the chatroom.

Marina stares at her phone as Pearl rolls over in her sleep next to her. The rap princess mumbles as she drapes an arm over her, pulling Marina closer.  

Hmmm...what'd she need that information for, anyway?

She shrugs, putting her phone down to go back to sleep in her girlfriend’s arms. 

-🦑- 

The girls walk down the sidewalk of a suburban neighborhood. Cookie cutter houses line up, their colors different shades of boring and bland beige. Occasionally a clam blitz practice hoop is set up on someone's driveway, easy to pull into the street when local kids want to practice. 

"Hmm...you were right. This place is very different from Prawnford." Jeanne mumbles, her eyes wandering. 

"Yeah. You'd think by now they'd give people some more slack to decorate their yards, but it's...eugh." Freya wrinkles her nose at the 32nd beige house she passes, easily getting sick of the color. "It shouldn't be long now...ah! Here we are." 

Standing at two stories tall, the Rán residence looms before them. To the right of the garage is a canopied porch, which covers the front door and a bench. Potted plants sit around the paved pathway, offering a much needed shade of green to cut through all the bland colors. 

Despite the almost charming outdoor decor, Freya finds herself freezing in place.

I’m really doing this. I’m really doing this…  

“Freya, it will be okay.” Jeanne says gently, squeezing her hand in reassurance. “Do you...need me to go up there?” 

“No, I...I’ve gotta do it myself. I’m just a little...nervous.” Little is an understatement, really. She feels like her heart’s going to explode. “I, um...This might take a while…”

“Take your time.”

Shaky steps take Freya to the front door. Jeanne follows her patiently, Freya’s hands holding onto hers like a lifeline. As they arrive at the Inkopolis Armed Forces welcome mat, Freya lets go. 

Deep breaths… 

Three’s fist moves to knock at the polished mahogany door. She almost taps her knuckles against the wood, but halts. 

“Three... you don’t have to do this. We can go home and find somewhere else. The others will figure something out.” 

Freya’s hand moves to press the doorbell instead.

Ding dong ding dong.  

“Coming,” shouts a woman inside, her stern voice making Freya’s fight or flight instinct kick in. Don’t run, don’t run, don’t run, don’t move, don’t scream…

Footsteps approach the front door. Without even bothering to check who’s on her doorstep through the peephole, Idunn Rán swings the entrance to her home open.

“How can I help you? I’m a very busy woman, so make it quick.” She declares, pushing a bright yellow cut tentacle out of her face as she stands at her full height. Her stern eyes meet Freya’s own as she takes in who stands before her. 

“Freya?” 

...Holy shit.

Even in her panic fueled haze, she can recognize the shock of realization on her mother’s scarred face. Her dark green eyes widen a fraction. For the first time in her life, Freya has seen her mother almost speechless. 

“...Hi, Mom.” Freya mumbles, gripping the sleeves of her two hoodies tightly. “...It’s really me. I called you last night, but…” 

Tense silence settles in. Freya can feel her mother’s eyes scanning over every detail of her, as if to verify for a fact that she’s not lying. 

“...Tch.”  Idunn makes a face as she leans against the door frame. “Of course after nearly two years of no phone calls, no texts, no letters, you show up. Are you really that hopeless? Come on, I’ll take a look at you.” 

Her mother heads inside, leaving the door open to the girls. Freya finally feels like she can breathe now that the weight is off her shoulders. 

“U-Um…” Jeanne’s voice quivers out beside her, a shaky smile on her face. She looks like she could barely breathe under the frightening aura Idunn emanates. “Is she...is she always that standoffish?” 

“Huh?” Right, not everyone knows the way her mother works. “No, she’s really relieved to see me. It’s not what she says, it’s how she says it. You okay?”  

“Yeah...Yes, I am. She is very intimidating…” 

“Hah, yeah...she has a bad habit of not showing how she actually feels. Mom actually looks the happiest I’ve ever seen her.” I guess she really thought I was dead… “Come on, she’s waiting.” 

Hand in hand, the girls step inside Freya’s childhood home. 

Tiled floor greets Freya and Jeanne as they kick their shoes off, not daring to track mud or dirt into the house. Three’s frigid toes can feel the carpet through her socks, providing some much needed warmth. 

Despite her absence, the place looks almost the same as it used to. 

On the wall greeting them immediately is a framed family portrait of Freya and her parents. Mother always keeps everything meticulously cleaned to upkeep the picture of perfection she expects, so there isn’t even a speck of dust on the aged frames. Jeanne’s eyes linger on the family portrait, the octoling dragging her feet for a moment until Freya begins to pad her way into the living room. 

A bookshelf stands to the left of a wide couch. Beside the bookshelf is a fully stocked shelf with nothing but bottles of alcohol. There is no television here. A rug fills in the neutral space left in the center of the living room. 

The silence in the house is almost palpable, making Freya give voice to a forbidden question. “Where’s Father?” She asks, feeling small. 

To the right of them moves a wooden screen door. Idunn steps out with her hair pulled back into a low hanging ponytail. She scans the living room as she stands tall dressed in a set of ER scrubs with protective gloves on. “Ah. There you are. As for your question, your father has been deployed overseas.” 

“Deployed? Where?” She can’t say that she didn’t expect this coming, but Freya feels a bit taken aback by it nonetheless. 

“Ikamerika. Logistics doesn’t wait for anyone.”

That’s across the ocean...  

Idunn tilts her head to signal them to follow her into the room. "Come on." 

The girls follow Idunn into her "office". The room feels every bit as sterile and relentlessly scrubbed as an actual hospital room. An examination table is lined up against the wall with three or four chairs across from it. Protective equipment is meticulously ordered from name to function, from face shields to gloves to respirators. Sitting alongside them are  various different kinds of bandage. Cloth, sports tape, roller, triangular, tubular, and others. 

"On the exam table, please." Idunn murmurs, pulling out her personal infrared thermometer. Freya complies, even shrugging off her two hoodies to leave her in just her one (1) sweater. Jeanne takes a seat at one of the chairs across the table. "Name and date of birth?"

"...Really?" 

"Ah. Force of habit. Symptoms?" The thermometer is held up to her forehead for a moment. 

“Migraines, trouble sleeping, pain and itchiness.” A short beep rings out. Idunn scribbles down the number the thermometer reads. “Tenderness around my eye, mostly. Oh, and nausea. The migraines are the biggest pain in the ass as it is, honestly.” 

"High fever." Her mother mutters. "How long ago did the nausea start?" 

"Yesterday. Last night I threw up. I don't seem very nauseous today, though." 

"And you're keeping hydrated, I presume?" 

"Yes." 

Her mother seems almost proud for a moment. "Miss Rán, when did you start developing the other symptoms?" 

Freya and Jeanne share a look. 

It started...I think the day after Kamabo?

“Four days ago,” Freya murmurs. Has it really only been four days? “I fell and scraped my face.” 

“You fell? When did this happen?” Idunn asks, raising an eyebrow as she writes away on a notepad. 

“I was working a shift at Grizzco,” Freya lies, barely flinching as she does. “I was running through enemy ink to get to a teammate who was downed, and I tripped and scraped my face pretty hard.”

A beat of silence. 

“Tch, Freya, you know I hate that place. Why the hell do you work there?” Idunn clicks on a flashlight with a face of disgust, checking Freya’s eyes. “It’s a blatantly illegal business. The only reason it hasn’t been wiped off the face of the earth is that kids - child labor, by the way! - say it’s ‘fun.’”  

“It pays well.” Freya tries not to flinch as the light shines into her pupils, gnawing at the inside of her lip. “Plus, it actually is kind of fun, when you’re working with the right people.”

“Ugh. ‘Fun,’ she says. I’ve seen more than enough cases where that ‘fun’ gets people in serious trouble. If you saw the damage Grizzco sends their employees home with- I’m getting off topic.”

“Damage?” Jeanne asks from where she sits, making Freya realize she forgot to tell her something. Oh noooo, oh god, she’s gonna- “What kind of damage?” 

Great. Here we go.

“Have you not seen what Grizzco does to their employees? It’s unethical and irresponsible! They send children to harvest Salmonid eggs, leaving them to the mercy of those- those boss Salmonids! Grizzco claims they train the employees, but I doubt it!” Freya’s mother fumes as she scribbles down some more into her notepad. “One of these days, someone’s going to get seriously hurt, or worse! When that happens, Grizzco won’t be able to hide anymore!” 

Freya grumbles, resigning herself to this fate. There’s the beep of a machine booting up. An automatic blood pressure monitor is rolled over to her as it’s hooked up to a pulse oximeter. 

“Sleeve off.”

Freya complies, scooting her arm out of her sweater. The cuff of the blood pressure monitor goes around her left arm, the oximeter onto her right finger. 

“Don't move or talk, just breathe. Wait, what the...did you burn your fingers, too?” Idunn asks, a tone of irate frustration in her voice.

Three nods, not bothering to hide it. 

"Rrgh, this is the reason I hate that company to begin with! I doubt you've been to an actual doctor. Am I right?" Not bothering to wait for Freya's answer as the machine's cuff tightens around her arm, Idunn continues on her rant. "Several patients I tended to had their humanoid forms eviscerated to the point that they couldn't hold them for long. Grillers would cause so much damage that they were unable to be in any form besides squid form. Just last week, I treated a kid who got second degree burns by being knocked into a Scrapper's muffler. Steelheads and Flyfish send most of them to us, though. The blast radius from the explosive attacks they use-"

"O-okay! I understand!" Jeanne half shouts, evidently regretting her question. "There is a lot of damage!" 

"That's right. Don't go working there, okay?" Freya's mother nods, watching as the cuff eventually loosens, bit by bit. Three can finally sigh in relief as the cuff slowly lets go of her arm. 

"Ah, I forgot my manners." Her mom suddenly mumbles, turning towards Jeanne as she waits for the blood pressure monitor's results. "I am Idunn Rán, this… little delinquent's mother. Your name?"

"Jeanne. I am Freya's roommate." 

"Roommate...I see. I hope you're keeping her out of trouble." A pointed look gets sent Three's way. "My daughter can be complicated." 

"Yes. Very complicated." Jeanne says with a smile on her face, to Freya's surprise. 

"Hmm. I like you, Jeanne. You seem to have a good head on your shoulders, unlike someone I know." 

The blood pressure monitor beeps out, letting go of Freya's arm in earnest. She sighs loudly, sprawling onto the examination table. "Felt like my arm was gonna pop." 

The cuff is slipped off her arm, followed by the oximeter. Freya's arm still hangs out of her sweater, leaving her stomach exposed to the cold air of her mother's office - but she can't find herself the strength to bother fixing it. 

"Well, you have high blood pressure. Low blood saturation, so you likely had something akin to an anxiety attack earlier. Your pulse is high." Idunn writes away, her face even as she scribbles down information. "Your vitals are all over the place." 

"So, esteemed mother of mine - what's wrong with me?" 

"You're arrogant, you haven't called your mother in years, and you likely have an infected abrasion wound.” Freya resists rolling her eyes while her mother is scrutinizing her. “Enemy ink can cause problems for people with different body compositions, especially in unsanitary conditions and environments like Grizzco." Idunn leans over, examining the bristling skin around Freya's right eye in further detail. "Your natural ink color is orange. There’s an orange tint beginning to spread from your eye, signaling the skin is swollen and tender. To top it off, the nausea could be resulting from your infection progressing rather quickly given the conditions." 

"Eugh...so, what can I do about it?" Freya grumbles, shutting her eyes to let her mother work. 

"Medicine. Rest. No work for at least one week. Two, to be safe." Idunn lists off, ignoring her daughter's sudden change in facial expression at the words 'no work'. She backs up, expertly peeling off her gloves without touching her skin. 

"I'm going to get a drink before I get to fixing you up. Jeanne, Freya, do you want anything?" 

"Oh, just water's fine." Three says, shifting to lean against the wall. 

"Whatever you recommend," Jeanne smiles, watching Idunn. 

"Understood. I'll go get that. Please, make yourself at home, Jeanne." 

Her mother steps out of the room, leaving the girls alone with each other.

Jeanne moves to speak, but Freya cuts her off with a raised finger.
Wait for it…

Glasses clink in the kitchen as her mother searches for her fancy cups. Freya gives the go ahead, her posture relaxing. 

“Are...all doctors appointments like this?” Jeanne asks, relaxing at last. Maybe Freya spooked her a bit with the signal? 

“Cod no, not at all. Mom isn’t a doctor either, she’s an emergency room nurse, so it’s almost never like this. We’re just taking an alternative method to getting what we need.” Three scoots over, patting the exam table next to her to invite Jeanne if she so wishes to sit. The octoling stands up to join her on the table, dangling her legs as she does so. “The regular process takes forever. You have to get a doctor, then get an appointment scheduled, sit in a waiting room, ignore the boredom setting in…”

Jeanne is quiet, simply watching as Freya lists off the steps of the doctors appointment process. 

“So...um...We took this way why, again?” She murmurs.

“Oh.” Freya pauses. “I don’t have health insurance. I can’t go to the doctor because I can’t pay for it. Living alone is kinda tough.”

“Oh,” Jeanne echoes, looking conflicted. 

“That’s why we came here. Aside from the other stuff.”

Eight hums in response non committedly. She turns to Three, gently taking her hand to hold. 

“Um...Three…”

“Yeah?”

“You said you had symptoms for four days now. You were hiding that you were sick from me?” She asks, guilt immediately striking Freya in the heart. “You know you can trust me with how you feel, yes? We live together now…”

Ouughhgh, I feel bad...

“Sorry,” Freya murmurs under her breath, squeezing Jeanne’s hand gently. “I’m not sure why I do it. I just...I’ve been so used to having to pretend everything’s fine. And it wasn’t that bad before, when we started to live together.”

It dawns on Freya that talking like this makes it sound like they’re married or something. 

“U-um, anyway, it’s gonna be fine now, okay? I’ll be more honest. Promise.” Her face flushes orange, making the inkling bow her head so it isn’t obvious. 

Well, any more obvious than it already is, anyway. 

Jeanne’s hands tighten around hers, and she leans in to rest her head on her shoulder. Three tries not to freeze up like she has been all day, finding it takes a lot of willpower. 

“You know...you don’t have to do things all on your own anymore.” There’s a certain softness, a certain fondness to her housemate’s voice. “We’re in this together.” 

Together…

Freya is quiet as she looks down at their linked hands, then up at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. 

Somehow...that doesn’t sound half bad.  

-🦑-

By the tides, my daughter is a lesbian.  

Idunn stands just outside of her office, listening in on her daughter’s conversation with her odd friend. She stealthily treads back to the polished tile floor of her kitchen, words ringing in her head. 

She said ‘together’. They’re in this ‘together.’ Is that slang for crime nowadays? Should I be worried? 

The door of her meticulously polished refrigerator opens as Idunn leans over, checking the contents of her fridge door. Cranberry juice, orange juice, a green smoothie she made the other day and forgot about… 

Cod, I haven’t had anything nonalcoholic to drink casually for a while. I should go to the store soon so I don’t resort to alcohol during these home visits... 

Settling for orange juice, Idunn pours the pulp-free liquid into two glasses. The third gets a generous pour from the refrigerator’s water filter. From the kitchen she can hear the girls in her office talk about cooking. Is her daughter cooking for her as well? She never seemed interested in the culinary arts when they were all still living under one roof. 

A rumbling sigh escapes the ER nurse as she loads the three glasses onto a tray. 

Since when did you become such a worrywart, Idunn? She thinks to herself. Before today, you barely thought of Freya at all. 

That’s a lie, and she knows it. She had been worried sick since the moment she opened the door to her daughter’s room and found her gone, along with her essential belongings. How she escaped without alerting them, she never found out. 

The call from last night had shaken her. 

She certainly thought Freya was dead. Hearing her daughter’s voice again after so long felt like a giant weight had been taken off her shoulders, before Idunn remembered in a sobering moment of clarity that technology is cruel. She worked with the Inkopolis Armed Forces for many years before Freya, after all. Voice manipulation to scam unknowing victims was common, even in the old world, back in the age of humans. 

Either way, I… 

The ER nurse makes her way back to her office with the tray, this time clicking her heels loudly. A small smirk grows on her face when she hears her daughter’s voice hushed and hurried as something shifts in the room, likely Freya’s friend. Were they sitting together, then? 

Right before she enters, she makes a pit stop by her shelf of alcohol. Just one sip won’t hurt. I’ll put it in my OJ, maybe… A mimosa sounds nice.

A bottle of champagne joins the tray. From here she can see her office - looks like that girl was on the exam table with Freya. She’s in a different seat now. 

Thinking about it, there’s something odd about her. It’s not just the way she talks, either. Something about Jeanne is familiar. Not familiar like a relative, but more like deja vu. 

Her hair does look different compared to ours… And her eye mask looks a little off. What could it be..? 

Idunn can’t help but squint as she thinks on it. The girl doesn’t look entirely like an inkling, with hair like that… 

Maybe she’s just overthinking things. 

 -🦑❓-

One glass of water later, Freya lies down on the exam table. 

Her heart is still racing after earlier, if she’s being honest. For a moment, she really thought her mother was going to walk in on the two holding hands. If she thought she was a disappointment before, what would she say to seeing her holding hands with another girl? Inkopolis is incredibly LGBT friendly, but she can’t seem to remember what Wellspring City was like in that regard. She tries to lie still as her mother prepares the necessary things for some procedure she didn’t catch the name of.

“You don’t have work today?” Freya asks, trying to distract herself from her thoughts. 

Idunn hums. “Not today. You came in on the right day, honestly. Any other day and I wouldn’t be here. I’d be covering the morning shift or midnight shift.” 

“Hmm.”

“Now, Freya, did you clean this wound when you got it?” Her mother asks, pulling on a face shield over her head. 

“Um...Nnnn...No?” 

“Are you fucking kidding me.” Idunn’s voice scolds, despite not changing in tone one bit. “You’re joking, right?” 

“I thought it wasn’t gonna be that ba-” 

“Ohhh my Cod.” Her mother almost reaches for the bottle of unopened champagne she brought with her, but thinks differently of the decision. Maybe she’s saving it for after she’s gone? “Well, since you didn’t clean up your little woopsie, this is going to hurt like hell. I’m going to clean your wound and see just how badly infected this is to get you some antibiotics to help kick this thing. Does that sound good?” 

Freya nods, swallowing shakily. 

“Good. Jeanne, if she gets another big wound like that, make her clean the wound. She knows better than that. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am.” 

“Good. I’m going to get to work… What I’m going to do is open what I can of the wound to flush out the inside with a solution. Since it looks halfway between scabbing, it might sting...but that’s why you should have cleaned your wound when you got it.” Idunn says aloud, likely another force of habit for the ER nurse. 

A damp towel soaked in an odd feeling solution presses against the right side of Freya’s face. She shuts her eyes involuntarily, yet her mother continues with the procedure. This kind of itches…  

As the solution begins to set in, the itching sensation dials up to a burning one. It stings like putting hand sanitizer on shallow cuts, enough to annoy yet not enough to consider painful. 

She realizes Jeanne has been awfully quiet for the past while.

Freya pries her eyes open, almost squinting. Across from her, she can see Jeanne’s worried face engrossed in Idunn’s work from afar - almost like she’s a med student taking notes. It never occurred to Freya that her roommate might want to branch out in careers. Maybe when they got back home, they could see if-

“Eyes closed,” Idunn says sternly. “You don’t want to get this in your eye, trust me.”  

Eyes closed, then. Freya's right hand gravitates to the edge of the exam table, her left grabbing onto her discarded hoodies. The pain hasn't started yet, and she's in no hurry to ruin her hands with her own nails. 

"Okay, in five you're going to feel some pain, likely. Ready?" Not even waiting for a confirmation, Idunn begins to count. "Five, four-" 

Freya's hand grips the edge of the table as a different solution is sneaked in between the abrasions on her complexion, her teeth clenched tight. "I thought you said in five!" She grunts out painfully, not daring to try to touch the area with her mother's hands hovering over her face. Who knows what she could be holding?

"Bookman's ruse. You prepare for something, and I hit you with something else. Stay still." Idunn's steady hand runs along the area Jeanne had traced out before. 

Freya feels a spike of pain as the wound is gently parted with some unknown tool, followed by a flood of almost ringing burning sensations as a spot above her eyebrow is cleansed with a solution. 

She can practically feel her knuckles going white from how hard she's holding onto the table. Even the arm with an iron grip on the two jackets she has feels like her fingers are starting to lose circulation. 

A whine escapes her throat, followed by muffled swearing as Freya tries to stay strong. 

"Tch, I didn't teach you any of that." It's almost over, just hold out a little while longer. 

"Is...this okay? Freya, are you alright?" Jeanne's worried voice cuts through. "Miss Idunn, maybe-"

"No no, I'm fine, keep going." Freya manages, trying to grin. In her pained state, it probably looks more like a grimace. 

She tries not to writhe uncomfortably as her mother continues to work. Occasionally she feels something like a swab poke at the incredibly tender skin, likely to collect samples or something. Freya never paid a lot of attention to any of these sorts of things. Maybe she should start? 

Eventually, the pain stops piling up. The wound still thrums uncomfortably beneath her skin, however. A dry cloth pats down her face, soaking up the leftover fluids. As her face rings dully, Three hears her mother step back. 

"Okay, here's the deal." Idunn starts. "I'm almost done, but the wound is absolutely infected. It's bad. There's odd looking drainage from it. I did my best to take it out, but there are parts a little too close to your eye to work with."

That sounds bad. 

"Aside from that, I'm going to wrap it up. You need to keep this wound dry. No turf war. No stupid stuff. Don't go to Grizzco. Stay at home. Former combat medic's orders. Understood?" Without even looking, Freya knows her mother has her arms crossed.

"Hhh...yes. I understand." 

"Good. Now, as for the wound...because your eye is in such close proximity to it, it might be for the best to cover it as well. The dressings will need to be changed every 24 hours, since it's been past 48 hours since you got this wound and neglected to clean it. Do you understand?" 

"Yeah. Do what you have to do. I trust you." 

There's a beat of silence, almost as if Idunn didn't expect that answer. 

"Okay. I'll get to covering that wound, then." 

Freya can hear something being torn open, likely the packaging of a container of large antimicrobial dressings. The cool surface of one  meets her skin. With gentle fingers, Idunn seals the dressing in place, following up with another to cover what she couldn't with the first one. Directly over Freya's eye, her mother places a patch of gauze to prevent sticking. 

With the dressings in place now, Idunn can wrap them with bandages. 

Freya feels the almost comforting embrace of a roll of conforming stretch gauze bandage begin to wrap around her head. The roll loops once, twice, three times - she doesn't bother keeping track now. Her eyes shut as her mother works, not bothering with protesting as Idunn moves her tentacle out of the way. 

"Is that alright? Not too tight?" Idunn's voice nearly startles her with how loud it feels in the silence. "Let me know."

"It's fine. Thanks…" 

"Good. I just need to secure it now. Hold tight." 

She can hear the tinkling of safety pins clattering against each other in a container. Before long, Freya feels her mother secure the roller gauze bandages with steady hands. Two safety pins in total are affixed to her head's bandages, holding the whole affair together. 

"You're done." Idunn murmurs, pulling her gloves off. "Good job, kid. You stuck it out." 

"I feel like I almost died."

"That's why you wash your wounds." 

Freya finally opens her eye - singular. It feels almost disorienting as the room greets her. She sits up to take in the sight of the two other women. 

Jeanne's face is knit up with worried relief, as contradictory as it sounds. It looks like maybe she was taking notes, judging by the interesting looking notebook in her hands. 

As for Idunn, she looks wiped. Her scrubs are covered in liquids of various shades - from orange, to blue green, to the almost brown color of the solution she likely used to disinfect her daughter's wounds. 

Freya feels almost… guilty? Maybe she should have called, should have texted. Maybe she should have made more of an effort to reconnect with her mother. Three hadn't bothered before - but what made her change her mind? 

"You know, it's a good thing you brought your little girlfriend with you. She can make sure you get home in one piece, even if you're blind as a bat." Idunn smirks, getting to discarding bio hazardous material. 

Girlfriend?? Jeanne? 

"Oh, Freya is-" Eight starts, but gets cut off by Three's embarrassed sputtering. 

"Mom! Jeanne is- She's-" 

"Hah, I'm just teasing. Though you seem to have some strong feelings about that, hmm?" Idunn chuckles, somehow managing to sound refined even when she's roasting her daughter alive. "I'm gonna make a call at the pharmacy. You'll be able to go once I'm done. Go ahead and get accustomed to your vision the way it is now, okay?" 

Before either of the girls can respond, the older inkling has walked out the office and into the kitchen down the hall. The sound of a home line's phone rings out as Idunn dials a number. 

Of COURSE Mom would want to embarrass me like this...what was she thinking?  

Jeanne is beside her, leaning against the exam table this time. She offers a hand. 

Without even bothering to think about it, Freya takes it. She's helped down from the table with the assistance of Jeanne's strong arms. I wonder what she did to get that strong? Didn't she say she was on the weaker end of the soldiers? 

"You alright?" Freya asks, finally sitting down in a chair. 

"Me?" Her roommate's eyes go wide. "I should be asking you that! You looked like you were in a lot of pain… I was worried." 

"Aww, you don't have to be. This one was on me." 

A comfortable silence settles in between them. Jeanne looks down at her boots, idly twirling a tentacle with her clawed finger. 

"Um...you know…" The octoling starts, looking like she's struggling to find the words for what she wants to say. 

"Is this about the girlfriend thing? That's just Mom trying to get a rise out of me."

"Oh! No, it's not that…" She looks almost disappointed. "It's, um…" 

"Take your time, it's okay." Freya gives Jeanne a reassuring smile, nudging her to continue. 

"Okay. I...never got to know my real parents." Jeanne starts, looking up at the fluorescent lights. "Almost right after I was born, I was left at an academy. For the army." She doesn't have to say the name for Freya to know what she means. 

"I was told to become an elite. To be the best, to be what I was supposed to be. The only hint I have to my parents is this Toothpick." Jeanne bows her head to show her the pin holding her tentacles in place. The glittery surface of shaved bonito flakes looks almost like you could pluck them right off. 

"Is...that so?" Freya asks, her eyes focused on the takoyaki pin. 

"Yes." Her roommate looks down at her hands now, the fingers laced together. "It did not bother me before. Not everyone gets to know their birth parents. But...when I saw Honey's parents, and your mother…" 

Oh. This is something I probably can't help with.  

"You felt like you were missing something," Freya finishes for her. The octoling nods, eyes focused on her fingers. 

"You know, Jeanne… you don't have to be weighed down by this. I wouldn't know what it's like being in your shoes, but...who your parents are don't matter. You've done incredible things without them." Freya wraps an arm around Jeanne's shoulders, pulling her in. "Regardless of your past...I think you have a pretty bright future. And if your parents are still around, I'm sure they'd be proud of you." 

"Really?" Jeanne asks, her eyes on the verge of bursting into tears. 

"Yeah, really. You're incredible, Jeanne." 

Before she can react, Eight pulls Freya closer into a tight hug. Her shoulder is a little damp, but she's not going to complain. Freya hugs back, shutting her eye as she does so. 

The two share this moment, sitting in comfortable silence. 

...Actually wait, silence? Wasn’t mom on the-?  

Peeking her eye open, Freya’s met with the sight of her mother standing in the doorway with a fond smile on her face. OH-  

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Idunn murmurs softly. She leans against the frame of her office’s doorway, somehow managing to smile without a hint of snark. I didn’t think that was possible for Mom… In the time she was away, it looks like she managed to change out of her scrubs. She’s back in the outfit she saw her at the door with.

“Oh! Not at all, Miss Idunn.” Jeanne smiles, a brilliant red hue on her cheeks. 

Without even checking, Freya knows she has the same blush as usual on her own face. 

“Well then, here you go.” Idunn hands her daughter a slip of paper, an emblem at the top declaring a covered prescription from Wellspring City Valkyries , the group her mother volunteers with. “Take it to the pharmacy and you’ll get something for that. Keep it dry. I can’t emphasize that enough.”

“Okay, I get it.”  She sighs, trying not to roll her eyes - no, eye. 

“The hospital should let you cover it. If there’s anything wrong when you change the dressings - stuff like increased liquids, odd coloration - you let me know.” Idunn says pointedly, trying to drive the point home. “You two are free to go. Jeanne, if there’s any problems, here’s my card. Call the number on it if something is odd. You can even text me pictures if I can’t answer the phone.” 

“Oh, thank you.” Jeanne holds Idunn’s business card carefully, brushing a thumb over the surface of it. 

“You two be careful on your way home.” Idunn heads out to the living room, giving the girls a chance to get their things. Freya shrugs on her two hoodies once more, the warmth not quite enough to settle in with her fever. Jeanne scoops up her bag before Freya can reach for it, the octoling holding both of their things with an almost challenging look in her eye. 

“Hah, alright. It’s only fair, I guess..” Freya laughs, almost grateful for help. Her muscles feel sore - the fight they were in yesterday likely made things worse for her body. 

Her mother stands in the living room. Jeanne goes to put her shoes back on by the door, allowing Freya a moment alone with her if she feels like it. 

“Freya.” Her mom starts. Is that- worry on her face? “I know how I can get, but… Please don’t go back to work for a few days. I’m not asking you as an ER nurse or a combat medic. I’m asking you as your mother.” 

A coin purse with the Wellspring City Valkyries logo is pushed into her hands. “What’s this?” 

“I just want you to be safe. Please.” A warm hand pats her on the shoulder. 

A feeling wells up within Freya. 

Is this guilt? Pity? What’s this supposed to be? 

Before she can stop herself, Freya hugs her mother tightly. She feels Idunn stiffen up at the action. A split second passes, and she’s being hugged back. There’s an odd finality to it - maybe this is the closure her mom needed? Being able to tell she’s really here, not just some copy that bears her daughter’s face? 

Either way, Freya finds she doesn’t want to let go just yet. 

Tomorrow, she can get back to her usual grumpy self. 

For today, she’ll let herself be selfish. 

“Hey,” her mom murmurs. “You treat that Jeanne girl well, okay? The same way any Rán would.” 

Aaaand the moment’s gone. “MOM!” 

-🦑- 

They’re on the subway home. The train cars rattle as Jeanne stares out the window, watching the setting sun with awe. 

Freya sits beside her, bag of medicine in hand. She squints at the label with her one eye, realizing her left eye is a little weaker than her right. Maybe I should look into glasses?  

“The world is so beautiful,” Eight says softly. Despite the evening group on the train, this car seems just as empty as the subway they took the day Freya took Jeanne home. “The sky is blue, then orange, then shades of red and purple...then at night, it is lit up by stars.” 

Three looks up from the bottle of medicine in her hand, watching her roommate with a smile. 

The way Jeanne looks in the evening light looks - right. The hues of orange silhouetting her complement her ink color perfectly. 

Warm colors suit Eight much more than Kamabo corp’s colors. 

There’s a mixed feeling at that thought. Kamabo? I wasn’t thinking of Kamabo.  

A little disturbed, Freya fiddles with the coinpurse her mother gave her. It’s a navy blue with the symbol of the Valkyries in a brilliant yellow shade. With a burnt finger, Three undoes the fastening at the top. A ding resounds, the coinpurse opening to reveal intricately made golden coins. 

What the FRESH FUCK?  

Freya rifles through them, easily finding they’re nowhere near the usual G currency she gets when playing turf. These coins are at least 1k G each, and she’s counting almost a hundred of them. 

150,000 G?! What the hell is mom THINKING?! 

“Freya?” Jeanne’s voice speaks up, the octoling girl leaning in to look at the contents of the purse. “What’s that?” 

“Mom gave me this as we were leaving. It’s way too much. I should’ve checked it sooner, but we left the station already…” Three tosses her head back dramatically, closing the purse with a click . 

“This is a bad thing?” Eight asks, scooting so she’s sitting beside her properly. 

“Not...entirely? I didn’t want her to give me this much, though. I feel like I’m taking advantage of her.” 

The subway cars clatter away as they sail across the countryside. Blue flowers appear almost yellow in the evening light. 

“I do not think that is it. I think she cares about you, Freya.” 

Huh. 

“Is that it..?” Three leans back, feeling her eye droop. Having one side of her vision blocked off makes it all too easy to start to fall asleep, apparently. “Even so, I…

“I think I feel guilty, doing this to her.” 

Admitting it helps a little, she realizes. Freya sits back, her eyes shut now. 

She feels Jeanne’s warm arm drape around her. A wave of comfort flows through her, making her lean her head on her roommate’s shoulder. She can spot Jeanne's steady hand scribbling something on the page of the notebook she's been carrying around. 

Is this a poem? 

Before she drifts off, she can make out the words.

Subway trains and new meds for pain

If things are gonna be like this

Then maybe it might be alright.  

Chapter Text

For the second time this week, Freya wakes up in a dimly lit room without remembering just how she got there. The right side of her vision is black. 

What the- wait, right. We saw Mom yesterday...

In the dark, she can spot her phone next to an old lamp. The bedside table is the same as ever. This is her room again. 

Did Jeanne carry me here?

Her heart nearly skips a beat as she registers the warm presence behind her. Turning to her right side, Three comes face to face with the soft silhouette of her sleeping roommate. 

Oh.

Unbidden, the memory of the other night arises in Freya's mind. Jeanne's hair is loose yet curled at the edges, putting off a gentle red-purple glow in the dark. Even while asleep, the octoling smiles - maybe she's having a good dream. I hope she is. Like before, she can practically trace out the curve of Jeanne's arm muscles. 

Her arms are curled up around something - Freya's right tentacle. She barely felt it as she turned to her other side. The way Jeanne holds her hair makes Freya feel something like fondness. Would Jeanne want a plush maybe? 

Warmth tickles Freya's cheeks. She can't exactly slip out of bed now. Waking her roommate like this wouldn't do. 

I don't really need to go to the bathroom… maybe it wouldn't hurt to stay here, like this.  

Making up her mind, Freya settles in. She can still feel the blush on her face as she gets comfortable, watching the steady rise and fall of Jeanne's body. 

She's beautiful. 

It feels like a bomb went off as soon as she thought those words. Freya's face burns brightly, making her cover it with her hands despite there being no other people around to see. 

She's...beautiful. 

Outside, she can hear the doves waking up. The gentle chorus of birds singing heralds the first few beams of morning light, drifting through the blinds of her window. I should get started on breakfast, but...maybe five more minutes.   

Despite herself, Freya observes Jeanne’s sleeping form a little while longer. She looks especially tranquil in slumber. 

Not like someone I know. Her thoughts bite back, making Freya gnaw her lip with a fang. 

Maybe she’ll get started on breakfast after all.  

-🦑💤🐙- 

“Mateno… Oh! What is that?” 

Freya looks up from the stove, a sheepish grin on her face as she tears yet another crepe in an attempted flip. She swears aloud as she scrambles to stop it from burning on the hissing pan. 

“Aww fuck, I wanted it to be a surprise.” Freya half laughs, stepping back from the stove as she holds the pan away from the flame. Jeanne stands in the doorway of their room - their? - with a loose t-shirt. “Bona mateno. I made breakfast. Something new.” 

Curious, Jeanne approaches the kitchen, her bare feet padding over carpet almost soundlessly. “It is new?” She observes from the counter to the right of Freya as she fusses over the frying pan and the heat. 

“Yeah, though I burnt the edges of like, four or five crepes. I’m not very good at this.” Three nearly catches her finger on the scalding surface of the pan as she pushes the crepe she was working on to the welcoming embrace of the reject plate of crepes. “Make that six.” 

“That is alright. You said this was new, yes?” Jeanne leans over to dial down the heat on the stove as Freya’s back is turned, easily turning the dial. “You do not need to, um...fuss over making it perfect. Your effort shows you are genuine.” 

"That's… really sweet of you, Jeanne. Thanks." Freya smiles sheepishly. "Though, um… this is also probably because I'm without depth perception, maybe. I don't know if you need two eyes to cook well." 

Her roommate giggles, moving to sit on the couch to watch TV to not put extra pressure on her. "I am sure they will be delicious either way, Freya. Oh, um, did you record the show you mentioned the other day?" 

"9-1-1: Aquarin? Yeah, it should be on the DVR." The frying pan hisses pleasantly as a slice of butter hits the surface, easily melting as Freya maneuvers the pan to spread it. "I gotta warn you though, some of the injuries get gory. The old ones with humans in 'em got craaazy." 

"Oh, that is not a problem! I am certain I can stomach it." 

From behind the stove, Freya can see Jeanne open the DVR menu of her TV's channel box. She can't help but smile to herself as the octoling starts the first episode. 

Yesterday when we were at mom's house, was Jeanne taking notes? Was it so she could treat me later, or was it for an interest in the medical field? 

Freya can't quite put her finger on it yet, so she pours out another 1/3rd cup of crepe batter. She hums happily as it spreads across the pan, playing a lot nicer than the last couple crepes. 

The show starts with the telltale chime of a 9-1-1 operator receiving a call as Freya nudges the pan carefully onto the cast iron grid above her gas range oven’s flame. As the show sets the scene of the episode’s cold open, Jeanne gets comfortable. 

“How did you sleep, Freya?” 

“Huh?” 

Jeanne sticks her head out, craning her neck to make eye contact from her perch. “Yes, how did you sleep? You said you had trouble sleeping before. Is the medicine helping?” 

A vivid yet unbidden picture appears in Freya’s mind of Jeanne asleep in bed, making her tighten her grip on the frying pan. “Um! Yes. I slept pretty well.” Little TOO well. “It’s been easier to fall asleep. My head feels fuzzy when I get up too fast, but I just have to stick with it, I think.” 

“Oh, fuzzy?” She can hear Jeanne’s claws typing against the screen of her phone. “I hope you are at least being careful. I do not want you to fall and hurt yourself.” 

She’s so thoughtful, what the hell? I love her?  

“You’re really sweet, Jeanne. I’ll be sure to be careful.”  

Her roommate giggles, her voice almost ringing sweetly like a bell. “You know, if I am being honest...I feel as though it is easier for me to sleep with an extra body in the bed.”

“You do?” Freya tries not to make relief way too present in her voice as she flips the crepe over. 

“Yes! It is much more comfortable. I hope you are comfortable as well… I never grew very close with the other soldiers in the domes, but to sleep alongside someone is a greater, um... trust than you can imagine. It is faith that your companion will have your back, no matter what.” 

She can hear Jeanne rustle around on the couch, craning her neck to make eye contact again. “Ever since you saved me in Kamabo, I had hoped we could know each other better. Around you, I feel that...that you are different. Different than the soldiers in the domes, and different than our comrades. I hope I make sense.” 

No response comes from Freya for a moment. It  feels like her head’s about to explode from the rush of emotions she’s been hit with. “I, I, um!” Trust… She trusts me??? I’m different??? How???? Oh my COD what is this feeling??? Freya claps her free hand over her chest, her heartbeat pumping at an accelerated pace.  

“Yeah, you’re making sense! I, uh!” It’s different for Octarians??? The sleeping together thing??? But Pearl and Marina probably sleep together, right??? They’re practically married! What does that mean for us?! “I just wasn’t, y'know, expecting that from you! I didn’t know that’s how you thought of me.”

“Oh, but it’s true!” Oh Cod I’m going to have a heart attack. “You are very complex. Like a puzzle. I think you are very interesting.” 

The crepe on the pan miraculously doesn’t burn. Freya slides it over to the plate of ‘close enough’ crepes, shutting off the heat as she does so. “W...Well, um..” 

The scream of a person on TV nabs their attention away from the conversation. Two terrified squid children stand on top of a car as a sea slug covered in a red liquid barks at them, despite not looking aggressive. Firefighters are on the scene, a sea snail woman clad in the same uniform Freya recognizes as a rather quirky character making the others back off. The two watch for a moment as the slug races off as soon as someone it recognizes as help arrives. The sea snail woman trails after it, telling the group to follow. 

“Is that ink or blood?” Jeanne asks, leaning in at the tv from the couch. 

“Probably blood. Even though we have different anatomy, I think this one’s a reimagining of one of the human accidents from the old world version of the show.”

“Ooh.” Jeanne watches spellbound as the protagonists close in on a sharkling woman with her leg pinned beneath a harvesting machine used for farm fields. The sea snail firefighter pats the slug for leading them to someone in danger, quickly getting to work on extracting the sharkling. 

Oh, good slug. 

Freya plates up at last, folding crepes in quarters on two different plates. 

She lines the inside with a knife covered in hazelnut spread, careful not to put so much it hurts her teeth. Bananas are shingled over each other on the spread meticulously. A bottle of chocolate syrup she nabbed on their last grocery trip pops open to drizzle sauce in a criss-cross pattern. As Freya finally finishes up, she slides some whipped cream she spent 15 minutes whisking by hand this morning on top of the folded crepes. 

“And done! Let’s eat.” Freya announces, picking up the two plates to bring them over to the couch. Jeanne’s face practically blinds her with the pure delight in her eyes. 

“Oh! Those are beautiful, Freya!” She passes the plate of notably nicer crepes to Jeanne, sitting beside her on the couch. “They smell lovely, too. How do I eat these?” 

The girls take a moment as Three educates Eight on crepe consumption, demonstrating with one of her own crepes. Despite the edges of hers being slightly more burnt at the edges compared to her roommate’s, she still savors the taste as she chews away. 

Not bad for a first attempt. Maybe next time I’ll try strawberry?

They start to dig in together, watching as the emergency responders on TV carefully remove the sharkling woman from the farm equipment. Before long the crew celebrates as the woman is swept off to the hospital with her loyal sea slug in an ambulance. 

“How incredible.” Jeanne marvels, her mouth full of banana slices. “I did not know sea slugs could do that. Do you think Flour could do such a thing as well? Even if she is blind?” 

“Flour does love that kid Honey. Pretty sure she could do something kind of like that.” Freya smiles as she eats. No complaints? It stands for pretty high praise in her book. “Do you like the food? I learned it off an online recipe.” 

“I adore it! I am very grateful for the meal. Thank you very much.” Her face burns with a red hue, clearly pleased. “You did not have to do all this.” 

“‘Course I did. I promised I would learn some more. Plus branching out in my diet is good for the both of us, since I’m actually buying groceries now.”

Speaking of promises… Freya pulls her phone out of her pocket, peeking at her push notifications. Nothing from the delivery company yet. I thought it was coming today or tomorrow… Guess I have to wait a little longer.

Their phones ring out a tone in unison, spooking Freya. A message from Sheldon to the NSS reads out ‘raid today!!! Don’t be late.’  

“Um, raid?” The girls squint at their respective phones. Freya opens the message, reading further. 

‘Our fearless Captain is ordering a raid on what we believe may be the lair of Turquoise October! You will be split in groups of two to infiltrate and capture Turquoise October. Our intel dictates that there may be up to three people in the band controlling the remaining forces of the Octarian army, so please coordinate your weapons and specials cans with your raid buddy at HQ! Teams are listed below:’ 

Freya scours the list. Sheldon and Marie at HQ, Pearl and Marina, Akila and Jeanne…

Wait, wait. Hold on a hot minute. Where’s her name? Freya reads over the list again, the result not any different. 

“Um? Sheldon forgot me.” 

“Oh, um…” Jeanne nudges her index fingers together, a very guilty look on her face. “I kind of...told the NSS about your orders. That you are not allowed to work for two weeks.” 

“What.”

“Yes. I am sorry, but you need to rest! I know the others say you may be fine, but I am worried about you, Freya. I want you to recover.” 

Were it anyone else, Freya would whine. 

Loudly.

“...It’s okay. I get what you mean.” She murmurs, popping a banana slice into her mouth. 

“You are not angry?” 

“Why would I be? You did what you thought was best. Even if I don’t like that I’m sitting out on such a cool mission, I know it’s with your best interests in mind. So no, I’m not mad.”  

Jeanne sighs loudly in relief, her face red. “Oh thank goodness! Your sisters had warned me you would be hard to convince, but it does not appear I need to convince you...I really wanted you to take care of yourself.” 

“Hah, yeah...they know I’m stubborn.” 

Ding dong.  

The girls look in the direction of the iron gate, Freya opening the door to peek. 

“Delivery for Miss Freya?” 

“Oh, coming!” She peeks her head back in, a grin on her face. “I ordered something, I’ll be right back. Okay?”

“Okay! I will take these to the sink.” 

“Aww, thanks. That’s super nice of you.” 

The Inkling skips over the front steps in her slippers, almost tripping as she fiddles with the handle of the squid-form proof gate. A delivery man stands at the ready with a clipboard and pen. At his feet is a big box marked fragile.

“Miss Freya?”

“That’d be me.” 

“Excellent! Just sign here.” 

The cool surface of an Inkopolis made pen fits in her hand nicely. Freya signs her slanted signature on the slip, gently handing back the clipboard. 

“Everything’s in order then. Here’s your package. Enjoy!”

“Have a good one,” Freya smiles, reaching to pick up a sizable box left at her doorstep as the delivery man hops into the open entrance of his truck, the engine still running.  

It’s about time it got here. I was wondering if I’d have to get one in person, but looks like I’m good. Thank Cod. 

As Freya heaves the box inside, she can hear the sound of water running. Settling for leaving the box in the ‘hallway’ of her bedroom, Freya peeks into the kitchen. 

The faucet in the kitchen runs, but Jeanne is not at the sink. 

“Uh, where’d you go?” She asks, stepping out of her slippers. 

“Over here!” A hand pokes out from behind the counter, way closer to the ground than Jeanne normally is. “I found something odd…”

“You did?” Freya cranes her neck as she approaches, kneeling down to ground level. 

“Yes! Look.” Jeanne turns around, something clenched in her hand. It’s small and looks like it’d be an eraser or something. 

“Is that... Mom?” She says bewilderedly, pulling Jeanne’s hand closer. 

The ‘eraser’ is in the shape of a little person. Yellow tentacles cut around shoulder length frame a serious face. She stands in the same clothes the girls saw her in yesterday, her arms crossed and heels together. 

This is Idunn. 

“I do not know how, but it is a mem cake of her. A memory. The stolen memories from the Deep Sea Metro took this form, but I recovered all of my memories. Why would there be a mem cake of your mother? Why did it appear here..?” 

Freya finds that she doesn’t have an answer for this. Jeanne’s eyes are deep in thought as she twists the little item in her hands, examining it in detail. 

“What do we do with this then?” She feels kind of unsettled at the sight of the mem cake, even though it’s just her mom. 

“I have a box I put everything in. Come on.” Jeanne rises suddenly, heading in the direction of their room. 

“Uh?” Freya stands up a little slower, careful not to get dizzy. As she rounds the corner of the counter she shuts off the faucet. 

In their room, Jeanne sits atop the bed, the same weathered box Freya saw the other day in her lap. The words ‘bonajn sojyoine’ stare back at her as she sits beside her roommate. With careful clawed hands, Jeanne lifts the cover of the box. 

Inside are two small leather bound notebooks. She recognizes the newer one as the same one Jeanne was writing in yesterday when they were on their way home. Alongside them are various different mem cakes, all unique in their own way. She can spot one of Marie and one of Callie, even one of Sheldon? There are a few others as well of people she knows, unsurprisingly one of Octavio as well. Freya bites down the jealousy rising in the pit of her stomach as she watches Jeanne rifle through them. 

“Yesterday, I wrote a poem. I had not written one in a while. Not since I left Kamabo. All of these memories, they have a poem attached to them in my heart. I do not know where the words come from, but I write anyway.” The octoling gently pulls one of the notebooks out, opening it to the first page. “This one was for this mem cake.” 

She points with a clawed finger to one of a little pink Inkling in squid form, reading aloud the poem. “It’s a little odd...normally they do not come to me until after I get the mem cake. But this memory of your mother, it showed up after I wrote. I don’t know what it is, but I think…”

“Hey, hey. You don’t have to overthink it, I think. It’s kind of weird this just popped up, but maybe it’s a Kamabo thing? Maybe it’s a sign you’re making your own new memories.” Freya hypothesizes, sitting up a little straighter. “Maybe the mem cake thing never leaves you. You recovered your old memories, and now you’re making new ones. You get me?” 

There’s a pause as Jeanne thinks, the notebook shut and tapping her chin. 

“Hmm… I think you may be correct. It turns out that, um… no other subject left Kamabo before me. Whether they got all of the Thangs or not. I do not know if I will ever get a definitive answer on this.” 

“Huh. You’re...really the only one that got out?” Freya asks, a little taken aback. 

“Yes. The others all either stayed in the Deepsea Metro or became…” 

“Oh.” 

“...Yes.” Jeanne gently sets down the notebook back in the box, looking at the different little memories inside. "When I woke up in Kamabo, I had this box. I did not recognize it at first, but it used to hold my hairpin. I have had it as long as I can remember." 

Freya's eyes are drawn to the golden pin holding Jeanne's hair in place. There's something almost familiar about the pin, but she can't quite put her finger on it. "Is that so? And the writing on the box?" 

"It says ' bonajn sojyoine.' In your language it is something more like… 'sweet dreams.' At least, I believe it says so. This box used to contain something precious, so I filled it with my reclaimed memories." 

Sweet dreams… 

"Um, anyway…" Jeanne's face flushes red, her hands reaching to put the lid back on the weathered box. "We should get going." 

"We? I thought I had to stay home?"

"Well...Miss Idunn said you couldn't work, but she did not say anything about observing, right?" 

-🦑🐙- 

"Oh no, don't even step foot in here, Freya! Jeanne already told us everything, so don't act dumb! You're not allowed to work!" Marie's voice cuts out, making Freya freeze in her tracks. Jeanne freezes as well, but continues to make her way to the changing room. 

"Ugh, come on, I already agreed not to fight today." Three holds her hands up in surrender, her shoes left at the door. "I wanna at least watch the camera feed from the Sheldon drones." 

"Huh?" Marie stares dumbfoundedly as if Freya grew another head. "You're...not even going to argue about it? You're accepting it?" 

"Yes, so can we move on? Where's the captain? And Callie?" Freya makes her way to the meeting room, taking her usual seat. Akila sits across from her with a small grin, already in agent gear. 

"Callie and Gramps are out on recon today. Pretty routine. Us however, we have bigger fish to fry." Marie pours herself a cup of earl grey tea before sitting down. 

"Yup, it's gonna be huge! We're taking down Turquoise October today. They're probably still hypnotized, so it's about time we get them out of there." Akila smiles, leaning on her hands. "Once we do, it might be easier to dismantle the Octarian army. We might even be able to restore power to some allied domes further down the line." 

"Not everyone wants to move up here, after all." Marie takes a sip, sighing deeply. "Old octarians might wanna keep their old lives. I've heard of some pretty interesting cities in octarian territory. One of the main cities is supposedly like Ikanawa." 

"Ikanawa? The island prefecture? Wouldn't it be harder to keep powered?" Freya leans in. 

"Yes, if they didn't have some form of alternative power source like Wellspring City. I do think it might not be enough as the population grows, though. With younger octarians eager to see the world they were forbidden to reach, it might give the remaining groups enough power to work with to focus on rebuilding." 

"Huh." 

Octarians building their own futures...their own lives. It would be nice to see their cities one day. If they had the resources, I bet they'd make incredible strides.

Jeanne steps out of the changing room, holding her head up high in her Null Armor. "I am ready."

"Great! Let's head out then." Akila springs to her feet, looking pumped. "Pearl and Marina are already on their way. It'll be even easier with those two clearing the path!" 

"Ah, okay! Freya, you stay safe." 

"You too. Good luck out there!" Freya smiles, hoping her one eye makes it clear she's proud. The two agents step out of the cabin, followed by the telltale sound of a Super Jump. 

"Well then, you gonna sit around or you gonna come watch the cameras?" Marie asks, raising an eyebrow. She can tell she's smiling behind her cup of tea. 

"Ugh, leave me aloooooone. I have like, one eye right now and so much to look at." Despite her whining, Freya stands up to follow Marie in the direction of the changing rooms. Instead of a left at the room full of agent gear and weapons, Marie takes a right. 

With a twist of the doorknob, Freya's greeted with a room filled wall to wall with tech. From screens detailing maps of Octo Canyon to camera footage from drones, there is a lot going on that Freya can barely catch up with. She can hear Pearl and Marina talking over the communicator line, the former bragging about her girlfriend's incredible brella skills. 

Speaking of Pearl and Marina, over the drone footage Freya can spot the two in their new agent gear. The idol duo have jackets in the same style as Akila's, yet differentiate in color. Pearl's is white with a bright bubblegum pink stripe across the front, while Marina's is turquoise with a black stripe. Overall they don't look half bad. 

"Miss Freya! A pleasure to see you here and not on the battlefield endangering yourself." Sheldon's voice pops up as the horseshoe crab waves. He sits at the screens, the light illuminating him well. "I'm glad you could join us! This room is filled wall to wall with cutting edge technology that we use to keep you all well informed and safe! Please make yourself comfortable." 

"Yeah, I can see that there's new tech. This is pretty cool…" 

"It was pretty outdated before, when Akila and I were searching for Callie. Now that we've had the chance to renovate, Sheldon went ahead and really cleaned up here." Marie says proudly, hands on her hips. "Go ahead and take a seat or whatever. Just don't touch anything." 

"Oh yeah, sure." Freya watches as Marie joins Sheldon at the screens, putting on a headset to guide the agents in the field. As she looks around, there are other chairs with very distinct differences. One is covered on the entire back half with stickers, and one is practically touching the ground with how low it is. One she presumes is Captain Cuttlefish's has a bold sticker of the NSS logo, alongside one of the Squid Sisters. 

Yeah, I'm not touching that one. Captain would kill me if I broke his chair. It's probably one of his favorites too, if he bothered to decorate it...

For now, Freya settles for looming over people's shoulders. On a screen she can spot Jeanne taking out an enemy octarian guard Akila didn't spot. The drone she's watching the footage on flies on ahead, leaving before she can watch Jeanne pummel the guard. 

Aww, lame. This is kind of boring now. 

"Eh, fuck it. I'm gonna go beat up the training dummies. My Bamboozler could use some work." Freya snarks, heading for the door. 

"You better NOT get your agent gear. I swear, Three. I will gut you." Marie's voice cuts back, not even bothering to look in her direction. The whole place has cameras anyway, it's not like it'd matter. 

"I'm not. It's just a Bamboozler. It's no big deal." 

"It better not be. Go. Get outta here." 

Taking that as her ticket out, Freya slips out the door right into the changing room. Weapons are lined up on one side of the spacious room, agent gear on the other. At the end are some booths to change in and some lockers to leave your belongings in while you're out on missions. A big mirror with a little stool sits tucked in between booths. 

"I'm just gonna nab the Bamboozler. Nothing else. Nothing else." Freya paces down the weapons side of the room, going through the mental list they had to be ordered in. She stops at chargers, picking a more weathered version of the weapon she felt like practicing so she doesn't ruin a new one. 

"This'll work." The inkling heads outside, the fresh canyon air waking her up a tad. 

The beaten training dummies in the yard stare at her wordlessly. She doesn't know why she decided now was the time to suddenly care about training - she fucking hates training. Something about the lack of personality or voice from the dummies kills her motivation to train. It's much more fun to spar with others instead. 

But there is someone else here…

Freya's eye is drawn to the covered snowglobe once again. She's alone, so there's no need to be worried about the others walking in. Maybe it'd be more fun to mess with an old man? 

Actually scratch that, it's absolutely more fun to mess with Octavio. Making up her mind, Freya walks over to the globe imprisoning the octarian king. She knocks first, at least. 

"Hey, DJ, wake up." 

Loud snoring greets her. 

"Ugh, get up old man." In one sweeping motion, Freya pulls the blanket off the globe. 

Curled up around a stick of wasabi is the sleeping octopus form of King Octavio. He has a new gaudy look, making Freya kind of glad her agent gear at least has some sense to it. Irritation gnaws at her, making her knock a little more forcefully this time.

“I’m SLEEPING.” He growls back, curling in on himself to hide from the light. 

“Get UP you old fuck, or I will pry this fucking snowglobe open myself to beat you to death.” 

“Wh- OH FUCK!”  

The octopus king’s eyes bulge out as realization hits him. He practically throws himself onto the side of the snowglobe furthest away from Freya, the motion nearly cracking the glass further. 

“You! You’re supposed to be dead!” Octavio shrieks, making Freya laugh.

“Me, dead?” She’s laughing harder now, almost to the point of tears. Cod, her sides hurt. “Joke’s on you, idiot. I’m immortal.” 

Freya’s mocking seems to make Octavio sober up. Fully awake, he glares back at the inkling through his shitty ladder shades. “What the fuck happened to your eye?” 

“Hah, you should’ve seen the other guy. I ground him to a pulp.” 

That’s not how it happened.  

Whatever, he doesn’t need to know that. Shut up.

Humiliated and roused from sleep, Octavio drifts to the bottom of the snowglobe angrily. He crosses his tentacles like an angry teen would their arms, almost pouting as he does so. 

“I don’t want to spar today. I just wanna talk.” Freya offers, setting the blanket down in front of the snow globe to sit eye to eye with the octarian king.  

“You just want to talk? Miss ‘shoot first and ask questions later?’ You sure whoever did that to your eye didn’t give you a concussion?” 

“Ugh, yes, I’m sure.” Probably. Freya presses a button on the side of the snowglobe’s base, releasing waterproof cards into the space Octavio inhabits. 

“Wait, you’re serious.” The octarian grumbles, ordering the cards a tad with his tentacles. 

“Duh. The usual wager?” Freya pulls a deck of cards out from a compartment in the base of the globe, shuffling as she does so. 

“Winner asks a question the loser answers honestly. I remember." Octavio raises half of his face in lieu of an eyebrow. "I just wonder why you're taking this approach today." 

"Meh, call it a change of pace. Unless you want me to beat you to a pulp?" 

There's a tense pause as Octavio looks back up staring at Freya. Is he sizing me up? Freya runs a thumb over the edges of her deck of cards. 

"Feh, whatever. You're on, you slimy little squidiot." 

"Bring it, old man!"

-🦑- 

"Woah. I think this is it." 

Akila Kariope stands ready at the edge of a tucked away area in the depths of Octo Canyon. Her hand holds her Hero Splatling to keep it propped up on the ground. At her feet, a sloped hill leads down to a crater and a decrepit building guarded by two octoling soldiers. The dim light of the dome makes her squint to try to pick up on details from afar. 

She can hear the crunch of gravel and loamy dirt beneath her mission partner's feet as she approaches. The newest member of the New Squidbeak Splatoon walks up to her with a Hero Charger with a haphazardly attached scope in her hands. 

"So this is where Turquoise October operates…" Jeanne murmurs, detaching the scope from her heavy looking charger with minimal effort. She peeks through it as she sets up shop behind a few bushes. "...It looks more run down than I thought it would be." 

"Yeeeep." Akila presses a button on her communicator, hearing the click of the comm line open. "Sheldon, we have a visual. Waiting for your signal." 

"Understood! I'm going to scope out the area. Stand by." 

Satisfied for now, Akila pops a squat behind a sizable rock with her splatling beside her. The agent keeps her head on a swivel, checking for approaching enemies. 

I didn’t think Jeanne would be teamed up with me today. Hmm.  

“Is it true?” She asks, leaning against the rock at her back. “That you convinced Freya to take a  break for once?” 

“Huh?” Jeanne asks, looking up from reattaching her scope to her weapon. “Oh! About Freya.”

The octoling straightens up, primly sitting behind the bushes. 

“Yeah, how’d you manage to convince her? Struck me like it’d be a difficult task, given how big a deal Marie made it.” 

“Oh, well…” Jeanne’s face flushes red, her tentacles curling inward shyly. “I suppose I did, somehow.” 

Did she kiss her? She probably totally kissed her. Oh my Cod. Okay Akila. Akila. Have some self control-

“Okay then, sooooooo... Diiiiid you kiss her? Was that how you convinced her?” She smirks.

You lasted two seconds! That’s a new record!

“W-what? Kiss? No, I just asked her nicely!” The octoling’s face reddens further despite her protests. “Besides, what do you mean by kiss?” 

“Oh, y’know. Give her a smooch so she’ll stay home and take care of herself… Tending to her when she falls asleep somewhere, like carrying her to bed… Maybe tucking her in at night... That’s all super romantic! You sure you haven’t done anything like that to convince her?” 

“No, I have not! What is this supposed to be about?” 

“Eh, nothing.” She’s not as fun to tease compared to Freya but it’s still kind of a cute look on her. 

“Nothing?” Jeanne raises an eyebrow, almost skeptical.

“Mhmmm.” 

“I do not believe you. Pearl and Marina said something similar the other day. They said something about going on a double date with Freya and I.” OH MY COD???????? They are WILD. “I do not know entirely what they mean, but… With the look on their faces, I could tell it was meant to be, um…” 

“Hey, it’s all good. I’m just joshing you.” Now I feel bad. Damn it.  

“Joshing?” 

“Messing with you, trying to make a funny. You get me?” 

“Um, not entirely…” 

“Yeah, that’s fair.” Akila stretches, peeking out onto the trail. Doesn’t look like we’re gonna run into any guards, at least.  

Jeanne makes a noncommittal sound, scribbling something in a journal. Uh? Where’d she get that from?  

“...Whatcha writing?” 

“A poem,” Jeanne murmurs, crossing out a line. “They come to me when I am not entirely prepared, so I have my notebook with me.”

“Poems, huh?” Not that different from a song. “That’s pretty cool.” 

“Yes, I think so too. This one is, um…I am not entirely sure who it is about.” The octoling sits up a little straighter, clearing her throat. As she recites, her face flushes further.

“The whispers of the ocean blue

sing from your gramophone, like new

I wonder if I'll sing like you.”

“Oh, wow...It’s really lovely that you’ve found a sort of hobby. I know it’s kind of spooky to give new things a shot, but your poem is beautiful.” Akila leans forward, watching Jeanne intently. 

“It is very scary! I am still very self-conscious of my poems. I have not shown them to many people, either.” 

“Hey, that’s normal. There’s no need to rush into stuff like that. Now that you live on the surface, you have all the time in the world to learn and refine your craft. So don’t worry, okay?” 

“You are right.” Jeanne breathes out, almost like she didn’t realize it. “You are right...Huh.” 

“Agents, you are clear to raid.” Sheldon’s voice crackles over the com line, snapping the girls out of it. 

“Oh, crap. Understood. Approaching the raid site…” Akila stands up, gripping the handle of her splatling carefully. Her ink color shifts to a bright golden yellow, the details on her equipment changing to match. If she squints, the guards seem to be gone. Either Pearl and Marina blew right past them, or Sheldon's drones must have distracted them. 

"Um, Akila?" Jeanne's voice stops her in her tracks. She rises to her feet, a little embarrassed as her ink shifts color as well.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For the advice, I mean." 

"Hah, no problem. Now come on, let's get Turquoise October wiped off our threat list. Oh, and when I'm charging, don't stand right in front of me. It'll feel weird and waste my shot, okay?" 

"Ah, okay!"

"Good. Let's book it." 

With a grin on her face, Akila slides down into the crater-like shape surrounding the building. She motions for her partner to follow. 

Her hand reaches back, a compartment in her ink tank dispensing a curling bomb. Four launches it at full speed, easily dropping down into the yellow trail to follow. 

Her suspicions are confirmed. Two sizable puddles of matching yellow ink cover the front entrance. The doors to their target are wide open, followed by a trail of allied ink. Music can be heard pumping inside. Turquoise October’s really in there, then. 

“Welp, looks like Six and Seven beat us to the punch. Let’s head in then take a different route, okay?” Akila peeks back, spotting Jeanne staring at the puddles. 

“Yes. Let’s go!” 

As Four and Eight proceed further into the building, the trail becomes more and more chaotic. What begins as a rather cold looking facility gradually morphs into a traditional old world Japanese room. Paper screens and tatami covered in both yellow and a deep elite blue splatters lead the way to a rather large room with branching paths. 

A sunken hearth sits in the center of the room with three doorways leading away from here. The path to the left is covered with yellow ink. Not that way, then. Jeanne sneezes quietly, the sound reminding Akila of one of Lil Judd’s adorable noises. 

“Bless you. It’s the ashes, isn’t it? Don’t worry. We’re not staying here for long.”   

“Uuuu...Thank you.” Jeanne kneels down to the hearth, inspecting it for a moment. From where she’s standing, Akila can spot some clams roasting on the hearth’s setup. “This is still lit...So I think that they were not expecting us.”

“Yeah, looks like they were pretty caught off guard. Left is covered. Six and Seven must be down there. Straight forward, or to the right?” Akila asks, fighting the temptation to take one of the roasting clams. 

“Forward. Right could lead to a barracks or armory… We cannot take the risk of attracting more attention than Agent Six already may be. If they run into the barracks it gives us a pretty big opening, even if it sounds a little mean.”

Pearl IS pretty loud. “Stealthy, then. Let’s head on.” 

Not even a few steps into the middle pathway, armored octarians stand in their path. Paper screens cover the walls. 

“Out of our way!” Akila shouts, her splatling whirring. Before she can let loose, Jeanne dives in front of her with a full charge, easily firing off the shield of a frantic Octotrooper. 

“Ah fuck, look out-!” 

Too late. 

Her shot lets loose, hitting Jeanne square in the back with a barrage of yellow ink. The octoling makes a startled yelp, diving down into the puddle left by the botched attack. 

“Sorry!” Jeanne bubbles out, tossing an Autobomb behind the enemy. 

Ugh, I know it was an accident but I’m still a little upset. 

The enemies gargle in Octa incomprehensibly. One starts to head back further into the hallway in panic. 

“Oh no you don’t-” 

Switching to a Splat Bomb on the fly, Akila tosses the projectile as far as she can. The octotrooper skids to a halt, backing away too slow to escape the pending explosion. A ghostly whine proves she hit the mark. 

Poor lil dude. Stubby legs did not help octotroopers at all. 

“Eight, take them out before they get backup!”

“Understood!” 

Akila dips down into the spot of ink she’s made, refilling what she can of her ink. Overhead a powerful jet shoots out, nailing a vulnerable Octotrooper in the head. Jeanne shouts out something in Octa that’s clearly working on intimidating the remaining troopers in the hallway, making some of them eye the opposite end of the hallway. 

Before the enemy can retreat, Akila bursts out of the ink with her whirring splatling. As the enemy turns toward her, Eight lands a shot on one of the trooper’s shields. It pops off with a crack , giving Four the opening she needs to thin their forces. The first trooper goes out with a splat, the other quivering behind their meager barrier. 

Tired of her slow charge, Four opts for hand to hand combat. She dives in, landing a hefty punch on the shield. The trooper sputters in fear as ink tries to force itself through the nozzle.

A jet of yellow sprays the back of her head. Fuck. 

“Sorry!” Jeanne cries out again, making Akila feel bad. Now I’m the offender here. I guess that makes us even? 

“It’s nothing-” Four grinds out, her boot planting into the base of the barrier. It pries out with a hard pull, leaving the trooper defenseless. She dives into the ink, giving Eight the opening she should’ve had before. 

One shot later and the hallway is almost eerily quiet, save for the sound of a song Akila heard a few times in the domes.  

“That… could have gone better.” Jeanne murmurs, to which Akila nods. 

“I agree! Unfortunately, we don't have much time to figure each other out. How about later we train a bit?” 

“Yes, I can do that!” Jeanne scoops up the busted shield left behind, already running further down the hall. “Let us keep advancing!” 

Akila follows her, careful to keep her hands from getting too sweaty in the heat of battle. 

"Remember to call out if you see anything that looks like what we're looking for." 

"Twintacle!" Eight shouts, followed by the loud clank of something being thrown against the wall. Akila catches up just in time to see Jeanne leap over the unconscious body of a Twintacle Octotrooper before splatting it. "Three others, they're running!" 

"On it." A curling bomb does its dirty work, giving Akila plenty of time to pick up speed. She flies out of the ink with her leg held out to catch onto the shield of one particularly nasty looking Twintacle trooper, gritting her teeth as she slams her splatling into the octarian. Knocked out cold. Four smirks, continuing further. 

Behind her the sound of a special rings out, followed by the instant solidification of ink into a Stingray. Akila sprawls against the wall and squats down, waiting for the shriek of the special to start. I could dive further in, then…  

The wide spray of Jeanne's stingray pierces across the hallway, paving a thin path of yellow before the shockwave starts. Akila takes that as her cue, diving into the path to catch up to the fleeing octotroopers. 

"Aim a little to the left!" She shouts over the communicator, opting to take down the fleeing figure on the right. The running octarian makes a little shriek of terror, almost making Four feel bad.

"Understood! Hurry!" The beam veers to the left before the unmistakable popping sound of a splat rings out. 

Not bad. Four leaps out, easily grappling onto the remaining twintacle trooper. It screams aloud as she pulls it off the little platform it rides, the sound muffled by her jacket sleeve. 

"Sorry, lil guy. You're heading back to your spawn point. Don't get in our way, 'kay?" Beside her the Stingray dies down, followed by the sound of Jeanne plowing through the ink trail she left. "Over here!"

"Coming!" Jeanne flies out of the ink, a charge already prepped. It fires right through the trooper grappled in Akila's arms, making a whine as its spirit returns to the closest spawn pad. 

"Ooh, cold." Four shakes off her jacket, flinging off excess yellow ink. 

"I'll head further in! I'll shout if I see anything." At that, Jeanne's boots pad off into the dimming hallway. It's here where she takes note of how the lights are darker the further they go into the hall. Is this a trap or an aesthetic choice..?  

A cacophony of whirring interrupts her thoughts. Ah shit, an Octocommander?
Jeanne cries out in alarm, firing off a shot before the enemy can get their weapons charged.The telltale sound of a form popping and the whine of a ghost tells her she got there a little too late to get any action in. 

“All clear!” Eight shouts as Akila catches up.  

“Nice work.”  

The two agents stand at two imposing doors that look like they’re made of iron. Akila peeks back at her mission buddy, barely catching her kick the enemy ink off her boots.

“Well, I think this is it,” Four murmurs. 

“We have made it?” She asks, rolling out her neck. 

“Sure looks like it. Let’s get prepared. Make sure you have a charge ready, okay? We don’t know how many might be in there.” 

“I understand.” Jeanne stores a charge, dropping down into the ink. “I will be right behind you!” 

“Awesome. You learn pretty quickly, Eight.” Akila taps her communicator, a little unnerved by the crackling of music leaking into the comm line. “HQ, we’re going in. Agent Six, Agent Seven, any word on your ETA?” 

No response. “Damn it.” We’ll have to do this on our own, then. 

With a steady and powerful kick from Akila, the iron doors fly open to reveal darkness. 

Akila rushes into the waiting room, Jeanne trailing close behind her beneath the surface of a curling bomb’s trail. Four’s splatling whirs loudly as it charges a shot. 

“Hands where I can see ‘em!” She shouts, the grip on her Hero Splatling tightening. “This is the New Squidbeak Splatoon! Surrender now and save yourself the trouble, Turquoise October!” 

In the dark room, she can spot a figure sitting in front of what looks like surveillance camera feeds. On one screen she can make out Pearl fighting like a hellion with a pair of Hero Dualies. Another screen has Marina pushing through guards with her Hero Brella. Below the screens are rows of broadcasting equipment. A song Akila recognizes as Shooting Starfish plays in the room as the figure ignores her. 

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” Akila grits her teeth. “Do you really want to fight some of the strongest Inkopolis has to offer?” 

The figure’s head is covered with what looks like a helmet, based on the reflection of light bouncing off of them. Elite soldier kelp is affixed to both sides like it would to the goggles or glasses of a regular Elite Octoling, but this one seems different. 

“Four...I think it’s just them in here.” Jeanne whispers, barely audible over the music. 

I don’t like this… Weren’t there supposed to be three or more of them?  

Silently the figure reaches for a lever on the side of their chair.

“Hey! I said hands-” 

Ignoring Akila, the lever is pulled with a resounding chink. The song halts with a drawn out record scratch. The ground rumbles as machinery roars to life, lights starting to flash hypnotically. 

Fuck, I can’t see!
Four covers her eyes with an arm, gritting her teeth. She lets loose the charge she was holding on to, aiming to cover as much ground as possible. 

Bass starts to pound in the agents’ ears. Akila groans as she reaches back, tossing out a curling bomb before slipping into the ink to refill. She can barely hear Jeanne beside her yell out. 

“We are in trouble!” 

What does she mea-  

The bright rave lights break for a moment, only for Akila to spot a massive robotic fist coming right for her. Agent Four bites back a yell, diving into the ink to scatter. 

A fist?! The Octobot King? It fits in here?! 

A frenzied violin riff sounds off over the bass as Akila breaks free of the ink’s surface, trying to catch her breath. “Eight?! You okay?”

“Yes!”  Jeanne’s voice crackles on over the communicator. She can spot her on the opposite side of the room, the bright telltale mark of a stored full charge following the octoling. “This must have been the original Octobot King, the one that Reigo Octavio used two years ago!”  

“There were two of those things?! Well, the second one was a piece of cake. If this was the original, it’s gotta be older and easier to fight, right? Let’s take it down!” Akila charges another barrage as she finally takes in the lit up scene. 

Sitting in the center of a smaller and more rundown Octobot King - maybe the Octobot Prince? - is the form of a woman. Deep blue tentacles drape down the back of her helmet down to her shoulders. The enemy is dressed in a more militaristic version of the standard octoling armor - golden tassels and buttons can be spotted from afar. 

"I was wondering when you'd come for me." The woman speaks in a chilling voice, distortion layered over it like static on a television. 

What?

"I was there. I was at the concert two years ago." She can spot Jeanne freeze from where she is, listening intently. "I almost got free too. The others made it out." 

Spirals of cold blue ink spray out from one of the Octobot Prince's fists, signaling a launch. "Eight, look out!" Akila's splatling whines as she veers it over in her direction, waiting for the perfect moment. 

“But I didn’t make it. I was left here all this time! You’ll all pay for abandoning me!” 

With a loud pop, a massive chrome fist fires off to zoom in the direction of Agent Eight. Akila lets loose, her splatling nailing the giant robotic hand midair. The bass pounds as the hand flies back, striking the figure directly. Above it all, she can hear a piano playing.  

She must have been at the concert then. Turquoise October was supposed to be three or more people…The others must have defected. The Calamari Inkantation can be nullified?  

The octoling shrieks in anger as she scratches the record, sending several splat bombs onto the battlefield. They tumble down and bounce onto the paved ground once before exploding, covering the room with dark blue ink. 

An arched yellow shot shoots across the battlefield in Akila’s direction. Jeanne swims through it effortlessly, watching the enemy as she catches her breath. 

“Thank you for your help.” She says between breaths, charging another shot. “The Octobot’s weakness is the fists. We must be on guard.” 

“Yeah, we do. I’ll try to hit all the fists that come our way, but you might have to cover me. Don’t stay in one spot, okay?” 

“Um, yes! I will do my best!” 

Another robotic fist fires up, spitting out blue ink. 

“Okay, get ready!” 

A loud pop rings out, the giant hand flying in their direction. Akila fires off a barely charged barrage before she realizes it, swearing as the hand continues its trajectory. She barely hears Jeanne shout to get down, followed by a streak of yellow ink launching the fist back. 

“Thanks!” Akila shouts back, dipping into the ink for a moment. If I get another curling bomb out I can try to get in closer...then maybe take down Turquoise October. I don’t know if the barrier is up or not. With that look on her face, it probably is, though...

Spurring herself into action, Four tosses out a curling bomb. She grits her teeth as she swims through the streak of yellow left in its wake. 

I can probably land a shot if the barrier is down...but…  

“Look out!” Eight shouts, the light of a full charge brimming at the end of her Hero Charger’s barrel. “Incoming!” 

The Octobot Prince rears up, a fountain of cold ink pouring out the bottom. 

“It’s gonna charge towards you, move!” Akila shouts, recognizing the move from her own fights against Octavio. Another curling bomb races off in the direction furthest away from the mechanical weapon as Akila swims with all her might. 

“It’s going to WHAT?!” Jeanne screeches, already running. In a rigid motion, the Octobot Prince flies off in a straight line to where Agent Eight just stood. 

“Get back here, you traitorous scum! You betrayed the glorious empire of King Octavio!” Turquoise October shrieks over the pounding bass of her music, almost leaning over the edge of her machine. 

“Take this, asshole!” Akila jumps as she throws a Splat Bomb in an arc. The sub weapon explodes mid air as it strikes the barrier, making Turquoise October antsy. 

Irritated now, the DJ snatches up two sticks of wasabi. She rams them into some notched spots in the equipment on the Octobot Prince. “You’re going to regret coming here!” 

“Hah, bring it.” 

Using the wasabi like piloting gear, the DJ snarls as she throws out a right hook from the Octobot with some delay. Akila is ready, however. She lets loose a barrage of ink that flies back, smacking the enemy in the face. 

“Eight, everything okay over there?” She yells over the music, hoping she isn’t alone all of a sudden. 

“Yes! Keep stalling her! I need time.” 

“Time?” 

The octoling DJ shrieks indignantly, slamming the robot’s left fist on the ground repeatedly as she starts to close in on Akila. The impact leaves cold blue splatters on the pavement, cutting off Four’s escape routes. 

“Look out!”

“Got it! You do your thing, don’t worry about me!” Curling bombs never failed her before. They won’t start failing her now. Akila rips open a Curling Bomb Launcher can, the ink inside wrapping around her head to create the groundwork for the special. In an instant it solidifies, chiming out a confirmation to go ham.

Frantic, Four tosses out a good three to start. She takes the path of the third one, weaving to avoid the mechanical fist threatening to turn her into paste. 

As she swims past the Octobot Prince, she can spot Jeanne tinkering with something on the back of the mechanical weapon, barely clinging onto the monstrosity. 

“Can you do something about that barrier?” Four murmurs into the communicator. 

“I can try. Keep her distracted for me!” 

“Gotcha.” Akila rides out her special, trying to cover what she can in the dim broadcasting room. Strobe lights start to turn in her direction, making her pick up the pace. She’s coming. God, I really need a day off after this. 

Three, two, one. The launcher dissipates into nothing, melting around her. Good night, sweet prince. Nothing she can do about it now. 

The Octobot Prince makes a keening noise, pulling Four out of her thoughts. “Let’s see you handle this.” The fists fire up, spitting out sprays of blue ink. 

Ugh, this is predictable. I wish this wasn’t so tedious. Akila resists rolling her eyes as she goes back through the motions. 

The fists are easy enough to fire at. The one closest to her gets fired back without any trouble, making her hope the fight ends soon. 

The other one, though doesn’t. In an angry motion, instead of continuing its trajectory to strike at her, the fist slams onto the ground. A wave of biting cold ink crashes out from it, making Akila yelp as she tries to get away. 

Stinging pain flares out across her hip, scalding even through her hero suit. Not quite fast enough. Ugh. That’s what I get for underestimating the enemy.  

“Wait a minute. Where did the traitor go?”  

Ah shit. Pressing a hand to her side, Four tries to wrench back the enemy’s attention. 

“Why bother with her? You’re fighting me.”  

The DJ fumes, pounding her fists on the equipment. “Like you’d understand, squid filth! Take this!” 

Veering the Octobot to the right, the enemy launches several splat bombs from a compartment beneath the area she’s sitting. Swearing aloud, Akila practically throws herself back to avoid getting splatted. “Eight, you got it yet?!” 

“Almost-”  

“Okay, do your thing then!” I could really use her help like right now, but… The mechanical hands of the Octobot Prince start to fire up again, making Four swear as she tries to get in a charge to at least launch one. 

It feels like the fight is dragging on forever. 

Left to stall and wait for the enemy to launch fists at her, Akila has no choice but to keep running like a caged animal. At least this edition of the Octobot doesn’t have the spinning punch. Her body aches at the very memory of the spinning hooks Octavio landed on her. 

Behind her, the door kicks open. 

Covered in yellow ink stands Off the Hook, donning their new agent gear. 

“Alright you slimy lady, bring it!” Pearl loudly declares, spinning the set of Hero Dualies Sheldon gladly lent her. 

“What the-?” Turquoise October halts at the new combatants, gripping the controls of the Octobot Prince tightly. 

“Bring it on!” Marina shouts, her Hero Brella tossing out the shield compartment to pave a path forward. The duo charge through the small protected path with ease, catching up to Akila. 

“You! You’re not going anywhere!” Furious, the DJ facing off against the NSS charges the fists again, rearing them up to slam into the ground. 

“Look out! Scatter!” Four manages before making a run for it, using her usual escape route. She barely avoids a wave of cold ink cascading in her direction.

“I did it!” Jeanne shouts, ripping out a handful of cables. The Octobot Prince shudders violently, the invisible barrier suddenly becoming very visible. Jeanne drops down from the mechanical weapon gracefully as she runs to catch up with the group. 

“YOU! What did you do?!” Turquoise October roars at Eight as the barrier shakes and chips away, leaving the DJ vulnerable. “You filthy traitor! You’re betraying your birthright!” 

“Can we beat her already? I am getting...irritated.” Eight murmurs to the others. 

“Yeah, no, let’s kick her ass.” 

“On it!” Pearl shouts, her mantle blazing with stockpiled power. In a quick motion, the Princess Cannon materializes in front of her, aimed right at the center of the Octobot Prince. 

Oh Cod we’re right next to it she’s gonna- 

Just a split second quick enough, Akila hits the deafening option on her headset, making everything go silent save for the sound of her heartbeat in her ears. She runs over to cover Jeanne’s ears with her arms, startling the octoling. 

All hell breaks loose. 

She doesn’t know just how Pearl does it, but the rapper can make sound practically visible. Ahead of the Princess Cannon, machinery is splitting apart in panels and shreds. Cold blue ink pours out of it as Turquoise October covers her ears, mouth agape as she screams in pain. 

The broadcasting equipment the DJ was sitting at when they walked in spits out sparks, several screens on the wall bursting into flames or cracking completely. Holy shit, I’m afraid? Wow? 

No time to be impressed. Here’s my chance. 

As Pearl’s shockwave begins to ebb away, Akila rips open a specials can. An Ultra Stamp springs into her hand as she passes Jeanne, patting her shoulder before grabbing the hammer with gusto. She gives them a little breathing room, stamping a golden NSS pattern into the pavement before she rears back. 

Turquoise October watches her and for just a split second, she can spot shocked yet relieved eyes behind the red glass of the helmet. 

The Ultra Stamp goes flying, nailing just above the DJ. An explosion of yellow ink bursts out from the point it strikes, splitting the Octobot Prince apart in a shower of ink. 

Four steps back just in time to avoid the debris crashing down on her, a silent sigh of relief escaping her. 

That was too close. 

Akila catches her breath as she clicks the undeafen button on her headset, looking around. “We all still in one piece? Everyone good?” 

Jeanne is watching her with wide eyes full of admiration. She nods frantically, quickly bounding over to the rubble of the Octobot Prince. “I am fine!” 

“I’m good!” Marina shouts, picking up Pearl’s Hero Dualies. “Pearl?” 

Exhausted, Pearl flops onto her back after the shriek she just let loose. She lets out a barely audible whine. "Uuuuuugh." 

 
“Pearlie! You okay?!” Marina cries out, breaking protocol as she practically teleports over to the rap princess’ side. The two murmur to each other as Jeanne quickly apprehends Turquoise October, pulling the DJ out of the rubble of the Octobot Prince. The octoling quickly forces the woman into a tight hold with minimal effort.  

“Let me go. You’re a traitor to your bloodline! Let me go, you-!” 

“Hey, you cut that out. Don’t talk to her like that.” Akila grits her teeth as she wedges her fingers in the gap on the helmet practically stuck to Turquoise October’s head. The woman’s hair snags on the helmet, making the DJ screech in pain. If we get this off, it might be easier to-  

“Stop! Don’t touch me! Stop it-” With a hefty pull, Turquoise October’s hair snakes free of the helmet. The octoling blinks dull green eyes rapidly, as if she can’t focus or process her actions without the hypnosis present. She makes a confused noise, turning her head as if she can’t see.

“Oh!” Jeanne pulls her phone out her pocket as she releases the DJ, thumbing through the screen rapidly. “Hold on, I think I have an idea!” 

Akila takes hold of the DJ’s shoulder, just in case it’s an act. 

“Four, Eight, I’m going to take Agent Six back up! She lost her voice again… I need to make sure she’s okay.” Marina’s voice rings out. Akila flashes her a thumbs up, giving her the go ahead. In a sweeping motion, the octoling picks up her girlfriend and heads out with her brella in hand. 

Ough, poor Pearl.  

It takes a moment to connect to the stray phone signals in the canyon. In hindsight, it’s a miracle Jeanne’s phone even went through, but before long it plays the Calamari Inkantation through its speaker. Turquoise October freezes up at the sound of the song, listening intently. 

“I...I remember now.” Turquoise October mumbles, her eyes clearing up. “You’re...Agent Four? I think I recall seeing you in the field while I commanded the octarian forces.” 

“That’s me. This is Agent Eight. We’re going to get you out of here. Do you have a name?” Akila holds her hand out to the DJ, ready to help her to her feet. 

“My name… My name! I’m Beryl.” The octoling takes her hand gratefully. “My name is Beryl...Yes. Agent Eight and Agent Four… Thank you for freeing me.” 

“I am just glad you are okay!” Jeanne chirps, clearly happy things have deescalated. “Let us return now. I am certain you are exhausted after that.” 

“Cod, I know I am.” Akila groans, pressing a hand to her side. “That shot got me bad.” 

“Oh, you’re injured! You should have said so earlier, Four!” Eight’s face puffs up in mock anger, fuming as she hops in place. “You are acting just like Freya now!” 

“Hey, don’t compare me to her! At least I take care of myself! Cod… Fine, we’ll head back. You ready to go to the surface, Beryl?” 

“I’ve never been so ready in my life.” 

-🦑-

“Rrgh, you fucking bastard! You cheated!” Freya shouts, banging her fists on the surface of Octavio’s snowglobe. 

“No I didn’t! You can’t blame a mediocre performance on me just because we’re enemies! That was all you!” 

“I got a bad hand, okay?!”

“Whatever, I won! You have to answer me now!” Octavio declares smugly, crossing his tentacles. Freya can hear people approaching the shack, but she’s too engrossed right now to bother. 

“Fine, ask whatever the fuck you want. I don’t care.” He better not ask something stupid. 

“Yessss. Okay-” 

“Freya, we are back!” Jeanne’s cheerful voice cuts through their conversation, making Freya scramble to her feet. OH SHIT OH FUCK OH SHIT. 

“What the-?” Octavio manages before Freya steps in front of the globe, blocking his field of vision. NOT DEALING WITH THIS RIGHT NOW. 

“You’re back! How’d it go?” Three smiles, though it probably looks like a snarl. “Not too bad, I hope?” 

"...Freya." Jeanne's voice is earth shatteringly quiet. 

"Yeah?" Ah fuck.

"...Is that Octavio. Are you...are you playing cards with Octavio?"

Fuck. Fuuuuck.

"Y...yes." Defeated, Freya slumps her shoulders as she steps aside. She gestures with a hand to the snowglobe. "There he is. This is Octavio." 

"What the fuck." Jeanne states shockingly professionally, her legs carrying her closer to the globe. "What the fuck." 

"...Yeah." Freya wheezes out. “Jeanne, Octavio. Octavio, Jeanne. Now we’re all introduced. Can I go now?” A wrathful aura emanates from her roommate, practically freezing her feet to the ground. Guess not.

Octavio keeps staring at Eight from the confines of his globe. Why is he looking at her like that? 

“What the fuck.” The trapped king manages. His tentacles bristle with barely concealed anger. “What the fuck! You’re stealing my soldiers now?! You squid filth steal our land, our electricity, and now our forces?!”  

Jeanne’s boot strikes the globe with shocking strength, cracks spreading out from the point of impact. Octavio immediately curls up in fear, his ‘face’ turning pale. The octarian king can't seem to look away. 

“Don’t talk to her like that,” she grinds out through gritted fangs. “I resign. I work to free my people now, not serve you. Are we clear?”  

Holy shit. That’s. That’s kind of-

“Crystal clear. Good Cod, what did you do to her?” Octavio asks, cowering in the corner of his snowglobe furthest away from Jeanne’s fury. 

“Mmm, you know. Undid all of the hypnotism bullshit you did to your own people. Turns out they hate you for practically forcing them to work for you! Odd, right?” Freya can’t help but smirk as she steps back, standing alongside Jeanne. “Now we’re dismantling your armies. Freeing as many octarians as we can. Your reign of terror has ended, Octavio.” 

“You’re…” An indescribable emotion crosses the DJ’s face. “You’re lying. You have to be! That can’t be true!” 

“Mmm, believe me. It’s nothing but the truth. Remember? I answered your question honestly. Consider that your reward for beating me.” 

At that, Freya spins on her heel and walks away, ignoring the indignant noises Octavio sputters out in her wake. Boots tap in her direction as Jeanne easily loops her arm around Freya’s. 

Her face is flushed red as she laughs aloud. “I cannot believe I just said that! To King Octavio! I feel so alive!” 

“You ROCKED out there, holy shit! I’ve never seen him so terrified before!” Freya grins, leading the way to the cabin’s entrance. 

Jeanne giggles, pulling Freya’s arm closer. “I think I understand why you did not show Octavio to me earlier. I felt like I was ready to tear him apart!” 

The two step inside the cabin to see Marie tending to a particularly nasty wound on Akila’s hip. Cold blue ink burns through Four’s hero suit, leaving the agent shirtless. She sits in a sports bra as Marie tends to her, pointedly looking away from the bluenette’s abs. A lime green blush covers Marie's face.

Good Cod, she’s fucking shredded. How old is Akila again? Twenty? I know she’s older than me, at least. Probably at least by like, two or three years.  

At the low table sits a new face. An octoling woman with a long ponytail peeks up at Freya as she passes by, notably curious to see her. A pile of what looks like upgraded military gear sits abandoned next to the table.  This must be Turquoise October. 

“The name’s Freya. You?” She murmurs as she sits down in her usual seat. 

“Beryl. I can’t quite remember my last name right now.” The octoling replies, holding her hand out to shake Freya’s. “You are Agent Three?” 

“Yep. You’re Turquoise October, right?” 

“One of the three, yes.” 

“Three?” Marie pipes up, looking up from Akila’s carefully laid bandages. “There are three of you still out there? Jeanne and Akila only reported you in the facility. Are there others we don’t know about?” 

“No, sorry. I meant I’m the last one.” Beryl says, sitting up a little straighter. She wears a plain hoodie with kelp tied into her hair. “Iida and Ahato left the underground before me.”

“Wait, Iida-?” 

“Beeeeryl!” Marina’s voice cries out as an aquamarine blur shoots across the room, followed by Pearl’s woozy face slowly trudging in. Before Freya can blink, the two octolings are hugging tightly. “Beryl, I’m so sorry we left you! I tried to go back, I did!” 

“Iida?! Iida, it’s you! You came back for me?” Beryl's face practically crushes as she holds onto Marina like she'd disappear if she let go. 

"I tried to go back to find you. It was always so heavily guarded. I lost track of Ahato in the meantime, but I swear, we didn't want to abandon you!" Marina weeps aloud, blue tears spilling out. 

"Marina, it's okay. I wanted to make sure you and Mizuta made it out. If anyone got to make it out, it should've been you two." 

Mizuta?  

Freya peeks over at Marie, who has a similar look of suspicion. 

"Woah, woah, wait. Marina, you're a part of Turquoise October and you didn't tell us?" Akila blurts out, sitting upright. "Pearl, did you know about this?" 

"Yo, I barely found out about this today." Pearl grinds out raspily, her hands cupped around a glass of orange juice. "Rina told me on the way here." 

"Yeah, I'm sorry...I didn't mean to cover this up forever." Marina pulls away from Beryl as she wipes her face, a weepy sense of relief clear on her face. “And truth be told, it didn’t exactly come up in conversation, so…I decided to keep it secret so I could rescue Beryl.” 

"Iida and Ahato were the other two parts of Turquoise October. Together we managed parts of the octarian army. All of us could broadcast orders, but Iida was normally put on tech duty while Ahato worked strategy. I was put on broadcast the most.” Beryl scoots up a little closer to the table, propping her elbows up on it. “When we heard the Inkantation for the first time, all three of us were there. Hell broke loose after the song was over. Octavio’s backup royal guard chased the three of us to try to reestablish order.” 

“Yeah. We ran for it. I remember Mizuta tripped so I doubled back to get her, but the guard started to catch up. I picked up Mizuta to try to get her out before the royal guard closed up the dome. But then you pushed me, Beryl.” 

“Yeah. I remember that.” The octoling stares down at her hands, clearly doing a lot of thinking. “The dome entrances were closing in, and I yelled that you guys had to make it out of there. Mizuta twisted her ankle, I think, so she couldn’t run anymore. My hands moved before I could think.” 

“So you let them catch you to let the others get away,” Freya murmurs. 

At that, the two octoling girls realize there’s others listening. “Um, yeah.” Beryl mumbles with a cold blue blush on her face, lacing her fingers together shyly. “But...Where’s Ahato?” 

Marina’s face twinges in sadness. “After we got out, I set her down somewhere safe. I told her to wait for me while I went back for you, but when I got back to the dome it was completely sealed off. I went back to where I left her, but no matter how hard I looked, she was just...completely gone without a trace.” 

“No way…” Beryl breathes out, a ghost of a whisper on her lips. “I never saw her while I was back in the domes. I don’t think she got recaptured, or I would’ve known about it.” 

“Well, what’s her name?” Marie asks, sitting up with a notepad in hand. Looks like she’s been taking notes since the girls started dumping out their stories. “We can see if there’s any word on your friend. If she’s out there somewhere, we can try to find her.” 

“Mizuta. Mizuta Ahato. She always seemed kind of quiet, but her music was incredible.” 

Mizuta Ahato. Mizuta Ahato. Where have I heard that before..?  

Freya tunes out the rest of the conversation, the girls’ chatter becoming background noise to her now.

Mizuta. Mizuta. Am I...forgetting something? I don’t think I’ve met her before, but I keep getting this feeling that I know something. But...that can’t be right. 

Just what is going on with me? I feel so exhausted, but all I did today was lose to an old man at Yu-gi-oh and watch two DJs reunite. I’m so tired. 

Something feels...wrong. 

But what exactly feels wrong with me?  

“Pearlie, can we offer Beryl a place to stay with us while she gets on her feet? You two can get acquainted! We can show her the grand tour around the Houzuki estate!” Marina beams Pearl a perfect smile with puppy dog eyes to boot. 

“Well...I mean, I don’t see why not. I might as well get t’ know her a little better, right?” 

“Oh, thank you thank you thank you!” Marina throws her arms around Pearl, her tentacles curling happily. “Beryl, this is Pearl! She’s my sweet girlfriend. I love her with all of my heart.” At the word ‘girlfriend’ Pearl’s face flushes pink. 

“You have a girlfriend?! I always knew you had it in you! She looks so cool too…” 

“Okay, this might be alright then. As long as you agree I’m the coolest, we’re in business Beryl!” 

“Well, that’s settled then. You’re all free to go. Be careful on your way home, okay?” Marie smiles, leaning back to grin at Akila. 

“Got it! See you around, ladies.” 

The two octoling djs and Pearl head out, clearly looking forward to getting Beryl situated. Jeanne tugs Freya’s hand, asking silently if she’s ready to go. 

“Yeah, we’re gonna head out too. You guys are gonna fill out the mission report?” Freya asks, groaning as she stands up. 

“We’ll take care of it. Don’t worry about us!” Akila pipes up, flexing an arm. 

“Alright then, we’re going home then. Feel better soon, Akila.” 

“Yes, feel better soon! Goodbye.” 

As they leave, Freya’s ears barely pick up giggly murmurs in their wake. 

“I told you, they’re totally yearning.” 

“Wow. I still can’t believe Callie managed to recruit you to the cause.” 

Freya’s cheeks burn with something like flustered embarrassment. 

-🦑- 

Before the front door even closes behind them, Freya bounds over, kicks her shoes off, and flops right onto the couch in a squid form heap. Thankfully no horrific migraine follows the form shift, just a little dizziness and discomfort. 

She lets out a loud sigh as Jeanne clicks the door closed, locking the front door with a heavy clunk.  

"What a day…" 

"Yes, it was tiring." Jeanne sits down next to her small form, a weary yet relieved smile on her face. "I did miss you today, though."

"Yeah?" Freya scoots up in an attempt to sit upright, crossing her longer tentacles. "How come?"

"I may or may not have stood in Akila's line of fire a few times," her roommate admits sheepishly with a grin on her face. "Four is an excellent fighter, but I think I do not mesh well with her in terms of combat." 

"Well, that's normal. You can't always get everything perfect one hundred percent of the time, especially when there's other people involved. It gets dicey, it gets easy. That's just how it goes sometimes." 

"Mm, you are right." Eight twirls a loose tentacle around her finger, clearly thinking of something. The silence of the house sets in as she pauses, making her reach for the remote. Slug Whisperers is showing a rerun. 

The duo sits in a moment of comfortable quiet. 

My face is itchy. Freya closes her eye as the familiar sounds of home set in. This isn’t too bad, though. I think I could get used to this.  

"I think that tomorrow, if there is not a mission, I would like to play turf war.” Jeanne murmurs, pulling her legs up onto the couch to curl up. “If it is not too much of a burden, anyway.”

Wow, she’s taking initiative. “Of course, Jeanne. It’s no trouble to me at all. We can totally go tomorrow! It’d be nice to see you fight.” 

“Oh right… You cannot participate.” Her roommate makes a sad pout. Did she want to fight me?! On her first turf war?!  “Well, um… I think I would like it a lot if you were watching. I want to improve. I am not entirely sure of how to play turf war, but…” 

“Hey, you’ll do great. We can go make a day of it and everything. Maybe even go shopping for clothes and stuff.” 

“Wait, really?!” Jeanne gasps, scooping up Freya’s squid form. 

“Wah! Yes really!” 

Overcome with joy, Jeanne hugs her tightly. 

“Oh, thank you so much! Thank you thank you thank you!” 

“You’re squishing me-!!”  

-🐙-

Thump.

Hours later, Jeanne snaps awake in the darkness of the room she and Freya share. Her pulse elevates, sharp brown eyes scanning the two entry points of the bedroom. The window is untouched and the door is still shut - so was that the front door? 

Eight rolls over in the dark to wake Three, squinting in the low light. 

“Freya, did you hear-?” 

Her roommate is gone. The blanket is gone too, actually. 

She peers over the edge of the bed, finding a lump under the vivid Prawnford blanket Freya prizes. 

Did… Did she fall out of bed?

“Freya, are you awake?” She whispers, despite being one of the only two occupants of the home. 

“Ugh…” 

Oh, she most certainly DID fall out of bed. 

“Are you unharmed?” 

No response. 

Freya stands shakily beneath the blanket, a pale glowing blue-green light emanating from her mantle. She doesn’t reply as the blanket sheds away. With unsteady steps and an almost mechanical walking pattern, the inkling makes her way to the hallway. 

“Um…” This is not normal for Freya, I think. At least, I do not remember if she is an odd sleeper… I thought she said she kicks?  

Too awake to get back to bed now, Jeanne slides out of bed quietly. She follows Freya from three or so feet away. Curiosity has taken hold of her now. 

Is she still...asleep, perhaps?  

Dimly lit as the house is, Jeanne can see a luminescent shade of blue-green mixed in with Freya’s orange ink. Was she always able to do that? She knew cephalopods glowed slightly in the dark, but she doesn’t remember if it worked to that extent. Jeanne can’t help but look down at her own loose tentacles, touching them lightly as she inspects the glow. 

It is not quite as intense...Maybe Freya learned to do it for situations in low visibility. I should ask the Captain to teach me sometime… it seems like a useful skill.

Freya trips over the carpet in the living room, landing on her face with a thunk . Jeanne almost cries out, but the girl stands up again. In the dark, she can spot her roommate's bandages falling loosely around her neck. 

“Um, Freya?” Jeanne shout-whispers, trailing behind her roommate into the kitchen. “Freya, your bandages!”

She’s closing in now, and she can hear mumbling. Mostly numbers. 

“...Eight.” Three mumbles aloud, a half asleep hand patting the surface of a counter. She hears a wet cough escape her roommate, followed by gagging and an uncomfortable sound. “...Ugh.” 

Torn between action and respect for her roommate’s boundaries, Jeanne freezes. The soles of her feet are growing cold, the tiled floor of the kitchen sapping away heat. “Um…” What is going on here?  “Freya?” 

“Freya? No, nuh...not Freya. She’s…” With an almost drunk demeanor, Freya sleepily reaches her hand to the knife block. A serrated knife used for slicing bread easily pulls out of it. 

Ahaha oh fuck, she has a knife. Is this sleepwalking?  

Weighing her options, Jeanne opts for the one that leads to hopefully neither of them being sliced open like the admittedly delicious french bread they had for dinner the other day. With a sweeping kick, the octoling’s leg darts out to trip up Freya’s own before she can process it. Jeanne’s arm darts out to effortlessly catch her roommate before she hits the tiled floor, almost dipping her into a bow. 

Her hand pries out the bread knife from Freya’s slack grip. Regardless of the circumstances, she’s a little proud of the disarming. Headmaster would be proud. 

Her roommate mumbles sleepily, her eyes oddly open despite not responding to movement. They are half lidded, almost tinted the same color her mantle is sporting. Huh.  

“Freya? Are you okay?” Jeanne murmurs, lifting Freya gently. The odd glow of her mantle and eyes dims a tad as she blinks sleepily, before letting out a loud snore. 

Oh. I suppose that settles that…  

Eight guides Three back to bed, the knife in the octoling's hand to keep her eyes on it. Freya lies back down, blissfully unaware of the panic she put her roommate through. The bandages sitting around her neck could be a choking hazard if they stayed there as Freya sleeps.

Not like they’re of much use with this...weird blue drainage on them. They have to go.

Her claws easily tear through the bandages, letting Jeanne pull them out from around her roommate’s neck. 

Satisfied, Jeanne does a 180 to do a last check throughout the house.

...Just what WAS that? Is Freya a sleepwalker? No, that cannot be right. If she was...I would have noticed sooner.

Jeanne pads into the kitchen. The bread knife slides back into the polished block in the kitchen without any effort. She hums thoughtfully as she considers a midnight snack, but is quickly pulled out of her thoughts by something she nearly trips over. 

What the..?

On the kitchen's tiled floor, a mem cake sits. The octoling squats down to examine it closer, plucking it off the ground effortlessly. There's a little greenish sheen on it that smells like hand sanitizer for some reason. 

The mem cake depicts an inkling in a brilliant yellow and white jacket with long blue hair. This is...Akila. Jeanne rises from her squatted position as her eyes widen, pacing over to the bedroom to find her box of memories. 

"First Idunn, then Akila…" Careful fingers pluck out the Idunn mem cake stored earlier, twisting the little item in the dim light to examine it. A poem gnaws at her, eager to be put on paper. Not now.  

The octoling hums to herself thoughtfully as she puts the two new mem cakes side by side. This is the second one I have found today. I do not know where they are coming from… and now Freya is acting odd. All of these events started today...

I think...I need to tell Miss Idunn about this. At least about the sleepwalking. What if something’s wrong? If there was something I could do and I did not do it, I think that I...would be very upset with myself. 

Jeanne's heart races as she opens the drawer next to their bed, nimble clawed fingers sifting through the various belongings she's accumulated. Pamphlets she's picked up out of curiosity at subway stations, discarded posters that seemed interesting, even some small piles of business cards. Eight rifles through the little cards, searching for the one that she got the other day. 

Found it. The navy blue card gets picked out of the pile as Jeanne steps over to the window, squinting at the card. Pale moonlight gently filters through the window’s curtains. 

‘Wellspring City Valkyries, a resource you can trust.’ Idunn Rán is printed in gold at the bottom, accompanied by a number. Jeanne pulls her phone out, carefully typing in the numbers into a message. She did say to message her, right? 

As she types the numbers in, Freya rolls over in her bed to face her at the window. The silence feels like it could shatter at a moment’s notice, like the glass casing around a zapfish. 

Now that she thinks on it, Freya has been acting odd lately. She seems more tired, more resigned. As time goes on, the inkling girl sounds less and less like the stubborn and arrogant person everyone describes to her. 

It’s almost as if there’s a burden on her shoulders, even after Kamabo was left in the past. But what could that burden be? 

Jeanne watches Freya’s sleeping form for a moment, trying to figure it out. Those migraines that she had been subjected to in the past week seem odd to her. Could the medicine really be working? Does Freya truly have something like an infected wound? Or is it something else entirely? 

Medicine takes time to work, she reminds herself, trying to stop before she jumps the gun. She’s practically staring down the abyss of conclusion jumping. 

Medicine takes time to work, but…

Sighing to herself, Jeanne hits the text box in the message she hasn’t filled out yet. Don’t panic. Jumping to conclusions is not like you. 

‘I think something’s wrong with Freya,’ she types. She hits enter before she can process it, squeaking in alarm as her phone sends the missive off. 

“No, I didn't mean to send it yet! Nooo!” Jeanne cries out before clapping a hand over her mouth. 

Freya snores loudly in bed. 

That was close… I did not want to wake her.

A loud ping startles her out of her thoughts, making Jeanne nearly drop her phone. Did she reply that quickly?! It's one AM! Shouldn’t she be asleep?! Or at least working? 

Sure enough, Idunn’s number has sent a reply. 

> Symptoms? 

That was fast. 

> She just started sleepwalking. Was Freya ever able to do that? I have her back in bed now, but I do not think she was conscious at all.

Seconds pass. 

A little bubble with dots appears on Idunn’s side of the screen, making Jeanne watch in anticipation. Am I overreacting?  

Ping.

> That’s not good. Antibiotics have a very small chance to cause sleepwalking. I’m not sure if that might be the cause, but we’ll have to see. Did Freya take her meds this morning?

Jeanne thinks back to breakfast. Freya had gagged overdramatically as she tried to swallow the sizable pills before they left for the canyon. 

> Yes. I made her follow the instructions on the label.

There's a long pause as Jeanne waits, watching the three little dots on her screen as Idunn types. Occasionally it stops, like she's thinking differently of her response. 

> Please keep an eye on her. When Freya still lived at home with me, she never sleepwalked. This could be a legitimate problem that threatens her wellbeing. 

Another ping follows the message.  

> I'm waiting for the samples I took yesterday to be analyzed. I have friends in the lab department. All I can say is be careful, be smart, and please update me if anything worsens. Okay?

Jeanne swallows dryly, nodding to herself out of habit. 

> I can do that. Today she listened to me and did not participate in work. I think she is very tired. It is like what she is doing is putting far too much strain on her body. 

Honestly, she’s just surprised her roommate hasn’t keeled over the moment she got back to Tentakeel Outpost. 

> You’re doing your part then. Thank you. If something odd happens again, please let me know. Thank you, Jeanne. 

> Also go to bed, it's 1 AM. You need your rest too. 

Huh. That’s kind of sweet. 

Maybe I was wrong about her. Freya did seem nervous when she was talking about her mother, but I think maybe she has changed. Jeanne thumbs the text box, humming to herself as she types. 

> You too, Miss Idunn. Good night. 

> Good night.

At that, Jeanne eases herself into bed once more. She stares at the ceiling with a hand over her chest, the other by her hip. 

I feel a little relieved now, but… Why do I have this feeling of dread..? 

The octoling turns over, facing Freya’s sleeping form. Her heart skips a beat as she traces over the features of her roommate’s face, committing them to memory. She hasn’t asked about the odd scar on the inkling’s neck just yet - though the curiosity is practically eating her alive. Something that’d make that jagged scar beneath her chin must’ve been a knife or some other bladed weapon. Either way, she won’t press the matter before her roommate is ready. 

Her face is… so rugged. Even though half of it is covered by bandages right now, it has a certain charm to it. 

Jeanne’s cheeks burn as she thinks back to the conversation the octoling sisters brought up the other day, the teasing particularly sticking out in her memory. 

I do not know if...if Freya likes girls just yet. Callie said she did, but I am not sure. 

If I were to ask… 

Her chest tightens as she thinks of the possibilities. Nerves settle in like ants on abandoned food. 

Ah, no. I should go to bed. Yes, it is bedtime. Best to abandon this train of thoughts… 

Despite herself, Jeanne gives one last glance at Freya’s sleeping form. 

But...I think that, if I were to choose someone to spend my life with… to look at the way Marina does at Pearl… the way Marie looks at Akila… I think I would want it to be with Freya. 

One day, she promises to herself, her heart fluttering as she stares at the inkling that saved her life. One day, when everything is a little better… When Freya is well again, I will… 

The octoling drifts off to sleep, comforted by visions of bright futures. 

Chapter Text

It’s dark. 

Her body feels wrong - cold, rigid - as she’s standing in the hazy darkness of her home. An incessant sound rings in her head, something between humming and radio feedback. She feels a lump in her throat as her body moves on its own, taking her to the kitchen. 

‘Jeanne,’ she tries to say, but the words are caught in her windpipe before they reach the surface. She feels sick. Her head is ringing as she rounds the corner of the counter, spotting the object she’s closing in on. 

Knives?

The lump she thought was just emotional suddenly catches in her throat, making her cough violently. Her body heaves a little as she practically coughs her lungs out, barely able to catch a breath in between. 

She’s not dumb. 

She can spot a bioluminescent fluid dripping out over her lips as she doubles over hacking. Is this real..? Freya tries to grab onto the counter to gather her bearings.

Her body, however, refuses to let her catch her breath. She marches on, her hand tightening around one of the many knives she’s kept in the kitchen. A serrated bread knife easily pulls out of the wooden block, making her stomach drop. 

“Kill her.” A voice commands her in the back of her head.

No... No, I won’t do it.  

Try as she might, the words won’t come out.

Her own body disobeys her as she starts to move back toward the bedroom. To her sleeping roommate, unaware and asleep. Freya grumbles and swears as she tries to uncurl her fingers from around the bread knife in her hand, to no avail. 

“Freya..?” 

Oh no. 

Jeanne, stay back. Stay back, it’s not me! 

A helpless spectator in her own body, Freya watches as her roommate’s face drops. Her legs are kicked out from under her, the knife pulled out of her hand before she can even think - and Jeanne dips her down a bit to prevent her head from hitting the hard tiled floor. She can hear her roommate sigh quietly. 

Thank Cod. Oh thank Cod. Jeanne, don’t let me-

Drip drip. 

The sound freezes a sigh of relief in Freya’s throat as Jeanne’s ink color darkens, turning a sickly blue-green. Her eyes turn black as the knife turns in her hand.

No. 

No no no no no no n on o nonono no no, not again. 

Wake up. 

Wake up! 

Freya struggles, biting down the rising panic, but to no avail. A sanitized Jeanne grins coldly as she rears back before blinding pain shoots through her right eye. 

Then again. And again. And again and again and again and again-

“AAAAAAAAAA!” 

Practically screaming her throat raw, Freya shoots awake in an empty bed. Morning light is already filtering through the curtains, making an intricate pattern of sunbeams on the blankets. Hands reach for her eye, feeling the clammy surface of her skin. Did her bandages fall off last night? Why? She curls up in the empty bed, trying to catch her breath. 

Dull orange tears flood her vision. Her hands tighten around her arms as she practically coils herself up, her heart racing. It feels like it's going to just burst right out of her chest.

These nightmares are becoming way too real.  

Hurried footsteps ring out across the house as Jeanne bursts through the bedroom door. “Freya?! Are you okay?!” She asks, scanning the room. Her tentacles are tense, waving about as if ready to strike. 

Freya wordlessly shakes her head no, curling up tighter. Her head is killing her, making her feel like a spike is being driven into it. Make it stop make it stop make it stop-

“Who did this to you?! I will make them pay!” Her roommate declares, vaulting over discarded shoes and piles of laundry to get to her side. 

Before she can say anything else, Freya tightly hugs Jeanne. The octoling yelps in alarm for a moment before reciprocating, her strong arms comforting the nerves still firing off in her head. Despite the fact that her roommate ran across the house, her skin feels cool to the touch. They sit like that for a while until Freya’s heart stops making her feel like she’s going into cardiac arrest. 

“I had a nightmare,” Freya mumbles when she finally feels ready to give voice to the thought. You stabbed me in it, but it'd be weird if I said that when you're holding me like this...

“Oh. I understand…” Jeanne’s arms tighten a little around her, but not in an uncomfortable way. “You do not need to give voice to the contents if you do not want to. Do you... need anything?” 

“...I don’t wanna be alone right now.” Admitting it feels like a weight was pulled off her shoulders, letting her breathe a little easier. 

“Okay.” Gently yet so so powerfully, Jeanne scoops her up like she weighs nothing. Being held like this feels… not unwelcome. Freya wraps her arms around Jeanne’s neck as the octoling carries her to the living room. Wordlessly yet automatically, she finds herself pressing her face into the small space left around her roommate's neck. 

This feels... nice. It feels right, somehow. 

The TV is already on. Pearl and Marina are on screen, notifying the masses about what stages are open today. Arowana Mall is notably not on the list for the day. Score. Jeanne lowers Freya onto the couch, brushing her mantle a bit as she does so. 

“Stay here. I will make breakfast for us today, okay?” Jeanne murmurs. She rounds the counter, pulling out her phone from her pocket. 

“Wait, are you sure..? We can just have leftovers today or something.” 

Jeanne doesn’t respond for a minute. She’s quickly typing something into her phone, her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth as she does so. “Mmm… No, I think I will make something today. It is only fair, since you made breakfast yesterday.” 

“Are you like, sure though? And what are you doing?” I didn't strike Jeanne as a texting kind of person.

The tentacles in her ponytail wobble almost guiltily. “I am, um, looking up... a recipe.” 

Oh, you’re a bad liar, Jeanne… But I don’t even want to bother calling her out on it right now.  

“Hmm... I think I will make pancakes today then!” She declares, pumping a fist in the air. “So you sit tight, Freya. I will make us breakfast before you know it.” 

“You know how to turn the stove on, right..?” 

“Yes!” 

Resigned to her fate, Freya gets comfy. She clicks on an episode of Slug Whisperer, watching as the host finds out what it is that is making the sea slug on today’s episode so aggro. 

Fifteen minutes into the show, the delightful smell of butter melting on a pan interrupts her. Freya’s stomach grumbles loudly, making her roommate in the kitchen giggle a little.  

“It will not be that much longer!” 

“Cool, because that smells great. Cod, I’m so hungry right now.” 

As the episode of Slug Whisperer ends, Jeanne approaches the couch with two plates like Freya did yesterday. The plates are practically identical in perfection, little slices of butter spreading out across fluffy chocolate chip pancakes. Criss cross patterns of maple syrup cover each pancake, the top one of the stack crowned with a little circle of whipped cream dusted with cocoa powder. 

“Woah...Holy shit, Jeanne. This looks amazing?” Freya marvels at her plate, a tad amount of jealousy prickling her ego. “I’ve never seen pancakes this well made! What the fuck?” 

Jeanne giggles, getting comfortable next to Freya. She can barely spot a sprinkling of red and purple on her cheeks before she starts to eat. “The instructions on the box were very helpful! But I had the idea of the whipped cream and cocoa powder myself. I am very pleased with the result.” 

Freya makes a cut with her fork, popping a bit of pancake into her mouth. Immediately she’s greeted with the decadent flavors of melted butter and chocolate alongside the sweetness of maple syrup. An undertone of cinnamon prevents her meal from being unbearably sweet. There is the lightest crunch of toasted batter at the edges - her favorite part of pancakes. 

“Oh my Cooooooood, no wonder you’re proud of these. This fucking rocks.” Freya praises, her eyes shutting happily. 

“Ah, I am glad! I worked hard.” Jeanne beams, taking another bite. “The flavor is very good. These came out well, I think.” 

“Absolutely! You’re amazing, Jeanne.” 

Jeanne blushes at that. “Thank you...”

-🦑-

After breakfast, Freya sits on the carpet in front of the couch as Jeanne prepares to apply a fresh set of bandages. Her roommate is humming as she touches her mantle, eliciting little flecks of orange light. 

“Your mantle... it is very smooth.” Jeanne murmurs happily, patting down Freya’s hair. 

It... tickles a lot. 

“Ah, thanks…” Unsure of what to say, Freya stays still as Jeanne carefully pulls up her right tentacle. The gentle manner in which her roomie handles her hair fills Freya’s chest with an unknown emotion. Gratitude? 

“The shade is very nice, though the spot over here…” Jeanne’s fingers touch a spot on the right side of her head. Despite herself, Freya is blushing orange. “This spot seems a little discolored. I wonder why.” 

“Maybe it’s my diet? Should I be eating more?” 

“Maybe…” She can hear the snap of a phone camera. Wuh? “But I do not think it will be an issue. We can look for vitamins, maybe.” 

“Yeah, I guess…” 

Jeanne’s careful fingers press a gauze patch over her right eye. Her hands firmly tie a set of bandages her mother gave them around her head a couple times before securing them in place with safety pins. First one, then two. 

“Hey, what happened to the bandages I was wearing yesterday?” Freya tilts her head back to peek at her roommate, who is currently typing away at her phone with one hand. Her other hand idly pats Freya’s mantle.

“I took them off. You probably do not remember, but last night you were sleepwalking. They came off and were sitting around, um... your throat. When I took you back to bed, I removed them so you would not get your neck tangled up in them.” Jeanne doesn’t make eye contact as she types, probably texting someone. 

“Sleepwalking? Shit, I probably would’ve remembered... Or, like, I guess not.” Was that what that nightmare was about..? Sleepwalking? But wouldn’t I not know if I was? Or is that just, um... sleep paralysis? I don’t know enough about these things, shit...

“I think I am done. Yes! There you are.” Jeanne gives her head one last gentle pat, warmth radiating out from her touch. "You sat so still. It made it very easy to copy what Miss Idunn did, so thank you."

"Ah, I should be thanking you. For both breakfast and for helping with my bandages, I mean." 

"Well, I am grateful for these quiet moments we can share. It is nice to spend time with someone…" 

"I agree. It's nice... I don't get to hang out with someone every day like this." It really is a gift...

...Gift? 

Oh, right! The present I got for Jeanne…

"Hey, I know how I can repay you. Close your eyes, okay? I bought you something online." Freya shifts as she rises slowly, careful to not get dizzy. 

"You did?!" Jeanne chirps excitedly, her eyes bright. 

"Yep. Close your eyes and don't open 'em 'til I tell you. I'll be right back." She trudges back into her room, opening the sliding closet carefully. 

"Okay!" Jeanne calls out, her hands over her face. Even from the room Freya can tell she's excited. 

The cardboard box in the closet is thankfully undamaged. Freya pulls it out from under a pile of debatably clean laundry, grunting a little as she does so. What's inside is not too heavy for her to carry, thankfully. Three hoists the box up in her arms, carefully pushing the bedroom door open further with her foot. 

"So, I know we're going shopping today and everything and I have money to buy you whatever you want buuuuuuut I got you something." Freya makes her way back to the couch where Jeanne is waiting, careful not to trip on the carpet. "I'm gonna put a box in your lap, okay?"

"Yes! Okay!" 

Three eases the cardboard box onto Jeanne's knees, careful to make sure it doesn't fall forward. This thing cost a lot… "Okay, you can open your eyes now." 

Eight does, and she gasps. "It truly is a box! I can open it?" Oh my Cod she's adorable. 

"Of course. It's yours now." 

"Eeee! Okay, thank you!" The octoling runs her claws down the surface of tape on the top of the box, easily slicing it open. "Ah, this is…" 

Jeanne pulls out a gorgeously made flower themed gramophone. Or, at least, the top component of it. The sound horn is shaped like a lily, white petals branching out with grace and elegance. Jeanne's eyes water with emotion as she giddily looks through the rest of the box's contents, gently laying down the pieces of the record player on the couch beside her.

"I remember you mentioned a record player the other day, so I felt like getting you a present. Looked through the store online one night and thought this one felt very... you. So I ordered it. Do... you like it?" The collar of Freya's shirt heats up, making her tug at it. 

"Oh Freya, I love it! It has all the components and an assembly guide, and I could listen to so many different things on this! Ah, hold on-" Jeanne puts the piece she's currently holding aside as she stands up in a blur. Freya's quickly pulled into a bone-crushing hug. "Thank you so much... thank you!" 

"Ah, I just! Wanted to make sure you got something to call your own up here...this is your home too." Wow, she's... she's so strong- Shutting her eye, Three makes herself comfortable in Eight's embrace, wrapping her arms around her. "You're welcome, Jeanne. I'm glad you like it."

This feeling in my chest…

It feels... right.

-🦑-

It's a warm one as usual inside the confines of Musselforge Fitness Club. Freya makes her way to the designated turf war spectators viewing area, grunting as she climbs a few bleachers. 

There's a sizable crowd here today. A few faces she's seen around Inkopolis Square are in the crowd, cheering on the competitors.

Freya herself is just looking for one specific person on the turf, who happens to be stretching at the launchpad before the match. Standing in a generic yellow tee and banana slip ons is her roommate, her tentacles twisting themselves up out of nerves. She surprisingly still has her hairpin on. The officials probably didn't know how to handle it, so they let her take it in.

This is Jeanne's first turf war… I just hope there aren't any bullshit comps in this lobby. The matchmaking here isn't exactly the best…  

"Okay, competitors to your launchpads! Get ready!"  

Freya watches as Jeanne gets her head in the game, her grip tightening around the Splattershot Junior the league provided her with. The two groups of four situate themselves on their respective launchpads, flying perfectly into the spawn points ready and waiting. 

Cod, I want to play too.  

She knows she's supposed to be taking it easy, but spectating was always boring for her. Freya Rán is not a sit-on-the-sidelines kind of woman. She's the one you go to for results. 

The intercom crackles on. 

"It's another beaauuuutiful day in Musselforge Fitness Club! Perfect for some turf war, am I right everyone?" The host pauses, letting the crowd cheer. The two teams rise from their spawn points, Jeanne's mantle a lovely mint color. "Yeah, that's right! Today we've got a nice mix of grizzled veterans and fresh meat! Everybody play nice! Now get ready, set…"

Wait a minute. Hold the phone. The enemy team has three fucking Sploosh-o-matics. Who the fuck did the matchmaking? Freya spots one Sploosh-o-matic on Jeanne's team, along with a Bamboozler and a Luna Blaster Neo. The one person on the enemy team that isn't messing around has a Rapid Blaster Deco. 

This isn't good. 

"Go!"

Immediately Jeanne is off and running, making a path to the hill in the center of the map. From where she's standing, Freya can spot the three enemy Splooshes squidbagging erratically for a moment before heading out from their base. They're all friends, then. Great.

Freya watches anxiously as Jeanne begins to put down ink, the tentacles of her ponytail slowly untwisting from the nervous braid they weaved themselves into. The allied Sploosh-o-matic heads right for the center, similarly squidbagging the instant the enemy approaches. 

"Now we're in for a treat today, folks! On the field we have Team Red Tide warming up with some turf before their tournament later today, scheduled right here at Musselforge Fitness! On Purple team we have team leader and founder Francesca!" 

One of the various screens set up for spectators zooms in on one particular inkling decked out in Annaki gear. Long purple tentacles frame her masked face, her hair lightly curled. Piercing red eyes scan the battlefield as she heads toward Jeanne, making Freya's heart skip a beat. 

"Looks like we've got a newbie heading onto the enemy bridge! Mint team starts to push… this here is Hachi, playing her very first match ever! Kinda bad luck she ended up against a pro team though, huh? Hang in there, Hachi!"  

Right, Hachi was the nickname Jeanne felt like going by in turf. The league is gracious enough to provide infinite nickname changes, knowing damn well how kids get looking for their signature tag name. I went by Sangor for a bit myself. Maybe it'd be worth looking back into the name, just to make sure nobody's out there using it…

The red eyed girl tosses out a curling bomb, diving beneath the projectile to hide beneath it as she goes. Jeanne backs up, not letting up with her Splattershot Jr. Her mantle blazes mint as her special charges to completion, just before Francesca closes in. 

In a flash of minty light, Jeanne pops her special - but has her hands out like she's expecting something else like a Stingray. Ink Armor covers her body like a protective shell, saving her from the initial barrage of ink Francesca fires at her. 

Oh SHIT she's not used to this kit. "Go, Hachi! Fuck her up!" Freya shouts with her hands cupped around her mouth, not caring about the eyes on her. At that, Jeanne jumps back to fire at the ground around her in case she needs to bolt. 

"Looks like Hachi normally plays something else! Poor kid, we've all been there." The announcer says, sounding almost like they feel bad for Jeanne. "Will that Ink Armor be enough to hold?!"

Francesca stops firing for a moment, her mouth moving soundlessly. The league doesn't record the voices of their competitors, mostly since microphones get trashed far too easily in turf war and other ink based sports. 

Jeanne's face makes an odd expression, like she's stuck between confused and offended. In that split second, a second Sploosh with a cap and sliced tentacles rises from the ink behind her, easily splatting the poor octoling. A ghostly whine cries out as Jeanne heads back to spawn. 

"Ooh! Miss Cherry, co-captain of Team Red Tide comes in for the flank! Better luck next time, Hachi." The two girls on the enemy team squid squidbag rapidly over the spot Jeanne stood on just moments ago, spiking Freya's blood pressure. 

Great. They found out Jeanne's new and they're probably targeting her now. Fuck, I wanna do something, but…the match already started. Nothing I can do. Freya bounces her leg anxiously, watching the battlefield. 

Mint ink swirls around the spawn point as Jeanne's form rises from it, shaking off excess ink as she grips her Splattershot Jr tightly. Just judging from her face Freya can tell she's a little irritated by the way that went down. 

Thinking better of her plan of attack, Jeanne heads toward the court to put down ink. Freya peeks at the map, watching as the Splooshes quickly cover their side of the stage. There really needs to be better matchmaking done...yikes. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. 

...Actually, maybe I would on Octavio.

A shy looking inkling wearing a white coat fires a shot in Jeanne’s direction, making her jump back. The blast explodes, spraying Jeanne in purple ink. 

“Here we have Snow from Team Belle! Sporting a Rapid Blaster Deco, she plays almost like a charger! She’s closing in on Hachi on the court...”

Jeanne tosses a splat bomb in the direction of the shot, quickly inking the ground she’s standing on to recover, swimming a pace or two back. Two more shots fire in her direction, then nothing for a second. 

The sound of a special activating ahead of her gets her running, barely rolling out of the way of an Inkjet shot. Freya can clearly see panic on her face as Jeanne runs past the lockers, firing at the ground as she does so. 

If she turns back, it’s over. If she stops, it’s over. Cod, this isn’t the best situation with that weapon she’s got…

Freya watches as the Inkjet starts to chase Jeanne, nervously bouncing her leg. She can tell her roommate is freaking out just by the way she’s running. A spray of mint colored ink fires at the enemy’s head, making the girl named Snow yelp and turn around. The new fighter twists a Bamboozler in her hands, her eyes practically glowing as she takes aim and fires at Snow again.   

“Captain Ava-Lux of Team Eventide is here! The master of chargers versus the utility queen... who will come out on top?!” 

Jeanne takes this as her ticket out, running further into enemy territory. Only a minute and a half have passed and the enemy is making too much progress for her liking. She dives into her ink on the enemy’s trench beneath the bridge, hiding to refill. 

A purple curling bomb tosses down near her. Theyyyy totally saw her. An inkling boy with a weird haircut jumps down to the trench, searching for Jeanne. 

“Reuben of Team Red Tide is closing in! He’s chasing after Hachi... she’s a slippery one!” 

Cod, they’re practically giving her away. Freya looks at the other player screens for a second, their nicknames listed in black at the bottom. Myra, Comet, Ava-Lux, Hachi… She peeks over at the enemy’s screens just in time to see that Francesca girl barking orders. Versus Francesca, Cherry, Reuben and Snow…  

“Ooh, that had to hurt! Reuben falls for the bait, but Hachi is too quick! Hachi gets her first splat! One minute left, folks!” The announcer riles up the crowd as the one minute remaining music kicks in, blasting over the gym.

Aww, she missed it. That’s what she deserves, Freya guesses. She leans in, elbows on her knees. One of Jeanne’s teammates - Comet, by the look of it - calls for help back at base. Knowing better than to wait for the kid she splatted to come looking for revenge, Jeanne super jumps back to base. 

Freya barely catches a glimpse of fury on Francesca’s face as Jeanne does so. That was close! 

“Purple team is pushing hard! Cherry of Team Red Tide is blazing her way into Mint Team’s plat and ramp, but she’s met with opposition by Comet and Ava-Lux! Hachi recalls to base to help out…”   

Staying perched above the bats is Ava with her Bamboozler, quickly firing ahead of Cherry’s advance. On the ground with xyr Luna Blaster Neo is Comet shooting down the ramp pathway. 

Jeanne swims to Ava, tossing a splat bomb behind Cherry to cut off her retreat. She jumps off the bats with her Splattershot Jr firing off, spotting the super jump icon appearing below Cherry’s feet. Jeanne pushes the inkling back far enough to splat her with the bomb, Cherry’s ghost making an almost amused whine. 

“Not bad, kid!” Comet yells, closing in to camp on the unlucky soul super jumping right to xem. 

Wait. Francesca has her-  

“Get away from there!” Ava shouts, but she's just a moment too late.

Like clockwork, Francesca zooms toward the point, activating her Splashdown special a moment before realization hits Jeanne and Comet. The wave of purple crashing from the move instantly vaporizes the two, sending them back to spawn with a little cry. 

“Francesca of Team Red Tide gets a double splat with that maneuver, pushing further in against Mint Team! Can Ava-Lux stop her?!” 

Oh, this game is not gonna come out the way she hoped at all. 

More than a little miffed, Freya looks for Jeanne’s fourth teammate on the cams. The one named Myra is just flopping around, squid partying with the kid Jeanne splatted. Oh, she’s throwing! Wow! That’s fucked up.  

The last ten seconds start counting down. The announcer gets the crowd yelling as they count down, waiting for Judd and Lil’ Judd to blow their whistles. 

“Five! Four! Three!”  

Jeanne runs for it the instant she respawns, covering as much as she can. 

The whistles interrupt her a second before she tosses out a bomb, practically freezing everyone in place. 

“And that’s it, folks! Let’s see how our teams did!” 

Judd and Lil’ Judd stare at the battlefield, the older of the two with his signature angry little squint. They meow a little to each other before Judd pulls out the purple flag. 

“Team Purple wins!” The announcer yells, the crowd cheering. She can see Jeanne’s shoulders droop a tad, but that’s quickly brushed aside once Comet and Ava give her a little pat on the back. The three of them head back to the lockers as Freya peeks over in the enemy team’s direction, barely managing to see them circled around Snow. 

The three - no, four - of Team Red Tide are talking about something, probably asking questions. Whatever it is makes Snow almost shrink, heading back to the lockers as well. The quartet that makes up Red Tide laugh a bit. 

Ugh, yikes. I hope Snow’s okay. She seems too nice for that team.  

Freya rises from the bleachers, sighing a little as she pushes past the crowd leaving the spectator area. Now that she’s looking at some of the people here, she’s noticing they have Team Red Tide merch on. Eww, people support that chick? She ignores their stares, rolling her eye as she makes her way to the lockers. 

Ava and Comet are already gone, likely to head off to their next match. Jeanne stands at her locker - number eight, funnily enough - as she shrugs her generic yellow tee off. The blistering blue mess on her back catches Freya's eye for far too long, practically gluing her to the floor. 

Not for much longer, though. Hands roughly push her out of the way, almost making her hit the row of lockers closest to her. 

"Outta the way, bitch." The girl with cut tentacles pulled back into a sort of ponytail pushes past her, followed by the masked girl and the other two from the match.

Ugh, it's Cherry and those other assholes. Great. Freya heads over to Jeanne, trying to block the team's view of her. 

"Eww, what do you have on your back, some ugly giant pimple?" Cherry's voice grates out, snapping Jeanne out of the daze she was in. Oh no. 

"Huh?" She murmurs, grabbing the clothes she was told to change out of from her locker. Freya's old Takoroka Windcrusher is gently picked up with clawed hands. 

"Your back. It's covered in an ugly blue splotch, and your hair is stupid. You some kind of freak or country bumpkin? Cause you don't look like you fit in here at all." Cherry grins, leaning against the locker. 

"Country... bumpkin." Jeanne squints, like she's trying to figure out what it means. 

"Hey, step off." Freya grinds out, stepping between Cherry and Jeanne. "It's her first day turfing and you already beat her. Leave her alone."

"Oh, and who are you, her knight in shining armor? Clearly you're not good at your job if you got your eye fucked up." 

Ugh, this is annoying . 

"She can take care of herself. I mean, she splatted two of you on her first match. Aren't you guys supposed to be a big shot pro team?" Freya grins, narrowing her eye. "Or do you guys just suck that bad that you got splatted by a newbie?" 

Two of the team members - Reuben and Myra - gasp loudly. Cherry looks back at Francesca with something she doesn't catch, but Freya can tell it's probably not pretty. The masked chick raises her hand as if to call the three of them off and steps closer, her eyes narrowed as she approaches. Cherry steps back, like she's waiting for a slaughter to happen. 

"I don't know if you were watching the same match, but your friend Hachi thought she was using the wrong special for a moment. That's sloppy. She's inexperienced and bumbling around like an idiot." Francesca muffles out. "You, on the other hand…" 

"Insult me all you want, I'm not really gonna give a shit. And Cod, do I have to remind you she's new? We don't come out the egg instantly gods at turf war, stupid." Freya crosses her arms, feeling Jeanne peek over her shoulder now that she has her jacket on. Despite the situation, feeling Jeanne stand beside her makes her feel warm. 

"I was going to say you look like a much worthier opponent than Hachi. In fact, I'll grant you the honor of scrimming my team. We will fight tomorrow." Francesca says, holding her head high. 

What the fuck is scrimming? "Yeah, no. Hell no. I don't even have a team, so fuck that nonsense." 

A second wave of gasps ring out. This time something sort of breaks in Francesca's poker face, her eyebrows twitching with irritation. 

"Why is that? You don't think we're worthy enough of your precious time?" 

"Yep. In fact, this right now is boring me. Jeanne, you ready to go?" Freya mumbles to Jeanne, who nods almost frantically. "Cool. We're heading out, then." 

"Who the hell do you think you are that you refuse a scrim with Team Red Tide?!" Francesca bursts out, poking Freya back with a finger. 

"Obviously someone not as insecure as you if you keep demanding me to do whatever the fuck with your team. Can I go now?" 

"No! You will scrim us, right now! I demand it!" 

"Nah." Freya loops her arm around Jeanne's, already heading in the direction of the door. "I'm gonna go get drinks with my friend to celebrate her first turf war, not scrimming you. Later, fuckwads." 

"I will get you to fight us! Just you wait, you coward!" Francesca yells, barely being held back by Cherry. "You'll be begging us to fight you later on, I swear it!" 

"Cod, what a freakshow." Freya mumbles as they leave the lockers behind, heading to the subway station back to Inkopolis Square. The air outside feels much more comfortable than the air in that stuffy gym. 

"That was... something." 

"Yeah. You okay?" Freya asks, pulling Jeanne a little closer. She can spot Jeanne's tentacles relaxing out of their tense coil. 

"Yes, I think I am. What exactly... was that?" Jeanne leans onto her shoulder as they walk, making Freya's heart skip a beat. 

"They're just, um. A bunch of insecure bullies. Don't listen to what they said. You're rad as hell, you just had to turf with what you had. Not your fault the league was lame and wouldn't give you a charger." 

Jeanne hums in response, her hair twirling gently. "I suppose you are right... though I did mess up a bit." 

"That's normal in turf. It doesn't count for anything huge, so don't stress about it, okay?" 

"I will do my best."

"Good. Let's go get those drinks so we can head over to the mall and go shopping, yeah?" 

"Oh! That is right!" Jeanne shoots up, hopping excitedly in place. "Let us go, Freya!" 

"Hah, easy, easy! You're gonna yank my arm off!" 

-🦑🐙-

Despite the blistering sun, the weather today is enjoyable. Birds sail on the ocean breeze, almost playing as they hover and weave an intricate dance. With Arowana Mall off rotation today, people mill around as they window shop and enjoy the scenery. 

Freya sips on her orange juice, amusedly watching Jeanne take it all in. The way she oohs and ahhs at everything really makes her appreciate the little things, like the little fountain area Freya knows she's fallen into in the past. 

"Freya! What is this machine?" Jeanne asks now, crouched at an old timey gashapon. The words 'Arowana Regional Gacha' are emblazoned across the front, with little icons of birds covered with question marks alongside them. 

"Ooh, I love these things. Inkopolis City has something we call a regional gashapon campaign, where you go around everywhere visiting all the hot spots to collect things from these machines. You put in money and you get a cute little thing." Freya squats at the gashapon machine, placing her orange juice on the floor real quick while she rifles through her jacket for her wallet. "This one's probably got seagulls or pigeons. They love to make them bird themed, since they're everywhere." 

"Oh?! You get a little bird?" Jeanne leans in, looking at the machine. Capsule balls can be spotted on the side, all of them colored differently. "And it is... random?" 

"Yeah, so the city set 'em up to boost tourism. This one's got a chance of giving out the exclusive Arowana Mall figurine, and if you collect them all you get a neat prize, supposedly." Kinda genius, with all the completionists out here in Inkopolis… "There's other things in here too, like little charms of weapons, coupons for shops here, candies, stuff like that." 

"Oh, I see!" Jeanne scoots closer to the machine, staring at the mechanism on the front. Freya fishes out 300 G from her wallet. 

“So, what you do is you put the money here in the slot. This one takes three for a capsule, but we make money off turf and league too, so it kinda evens out a little.” Three 100 G coins go into the machine, the crank mechanism unlocking. 

“Go ahead and turn that thing. Just turn it to the right until something pops out.” Freya encourages, letting Jeanne grab a capsule. 

“Ah, okay…” Jeanne timidly turns the crank in a slow circle, the capsules inside the machine rattling as she does so. 

“That’s good, keep turning it.” 

“Oh!” 

A glitter covered gold tinted capsule pops out the bottom as the crank locks back into place, leaving Jeanne with her prize. 

“OH MY COD. Open it, open it it’s a rare one.” 

“It is?!” Jeanne fumbles with the capsule, the outside surface covered in plastic. Her claws easily shred through it as she pockets the trash to throw away later. “How do I-?” 

“Twist both ends in opposite directions. It’ll pop open, but be careful not to drop the thing inside.” Freya leans in, not even bothering to hide her excitement. “Careful.” 

“I am!” 

The capsule pops open. Freya and Jeanne both peer inside the little plastic container. Nestled within a makeshift nest of paper and bubble wrap is a figurine of a seagull, just like the ones on the border of Arowana Mall that inhabit the beach. The beak is tinted gold, white wings folded as the seagull sits expectantly for its new owner. 

“Oh... Oh, Freya, this is so adorable…” Jeanne bubbles out, red tears in the corners of her eyes. “It is so smallllll! Look at it! Oh, I love it so much…” 

MY HEARTTTTT. Oh my Cod does she know how cute she is?

“It’s yours! You’ve got one of the rarest things this gashapon has to offer now. Keep it safe, okay?” Freya smiles, trying very hard not to squish her into a hug when the capsule is still open. 

“I will! I love it so much… I can put the capsule back on and it will not break, correct?” 

"Yep. You got it?" 

"Yes! Thank you for showing me this machine, Freya. I am very happy!" Jeanne clicks the capsule top back onto the bottom piece, safeguarding the seagull inside. She wipes her eyes gently, a weepy smile on her face. 

I could just kiss her right now. 

The thought makes her heart pound, her face warming up. Now's not the time for those thoughts... right? This isn't a date, right? 

"Freya, where to now?" Jeanne stands, putting the golden capsule into her purse. The sun silhouettes her in golden light, her hair twirling in the beams. 

"Oh! Well, I thought you might like going clothes shopping. You've mostly borrowed my stuff, but I thought you'd like to get things of your own, too." Freya rises to her feet, unable to stop a warm smile from forming. 

Together, the two start to make the rounds in the mall. Freya's never been much of a 'hang out at the mall all day' kind of person, if she's being honest. After running away, she didn't exactly bother to make friends her age. Not like I had many friends back home, anyway. 

Callie and Marie dragged her on a few occasions, especially to malls with arcades. She's got plenty of fond memories of playing rhythm games with her sisters-in-arms, even if she was bad at them at first. 

This, though, this feels different. Freya can't tell if it's because Callie and Marie didn't live under the same roof as her, or if because Jeanne's closer to her age, but going to the mall with her roommate feels... different. More intimate. Like there's something else, something unspoken starting to move between them. 

...IS this a date?  

Would it be a problem if she thought of it like one? If she just let her guard down? She's never dated anyone before. How would she know if this is a real date? 

"Freya? Did you hear me?" Jeanne asks, a little smile on her face. 

"Oh fuck, sorry. I'm- go ahead." Freya's face burns, the orange probably peeking through her bandages. 

"It is okay!" Her roommate giggles, holding up two different shirts. "Do you think we should get this one-" She raises the one in her left hand, green with white stripes. "-or this one?" She raises the one in her right hand, the shirt a gradient white to pink to purple with some sort of decal on it. 

"Hmm. I think the second one. It probably looks cuter with your hair." The instant the word cute passes her lips, she feels like she should die in a hole. You called her cute. Oh Cod. Oh Cod I'm gonna yell. 

"Oh, you are right! Thank you." She folds the shirt over her arm, putting the other one back on the display rack. "I saw some sweaters I want to get as well. Are you getting anything?" 

"Mmm, maybe I will. I don't normally shop, so I might as well get something." 

"Ah, I am glad!" Jeanne claps, a pleased look on her face. "Let us get you something cute as well!" 

AaaaaaaaaAAAAA. She's calling me cute, I'm gonna DIE. 

She didn’t even directly call you cute.  

LET ME HAVE THIS. Let me have this. 

Unaware of Freya’s internal monologue, Jeanne brings over a few tank tops. “I think these would look wonderful on you! They could show off your muscles…” 

Muscles? Freya’s face is on fire at this point. I have? Muscles?

I can assure you you don’t. 

“A-And you could have, um, freedom of movement. I noticed you wear very heavy clothes, so…” 

Oh my Cod. Oh my Cod.  

“Um! I guess I could, uh, give ‘em a shot. I normally don’t wear tanks, but these would be nice to wear around the house-” My face is so warm. Oh Cod. I’m gonna die. 

“Good!” Jeanne’s face reddens, but she’s got a smile on anyway. “I will, um, go search for more clothes. Oh! Shoes?” 

“Oh, uh, shoes are over there, I think.” 

“Thank you! I will look.” With that, Jeanne gracefully turns on her heel to go check the stock of shoes out. 

This is... nice. I’m glad to see Jeanne so happy. Whenever she’s here on the surface, she seems so alive. Down in the domes, or in Kamabo, from what I remember, she seems so different...This, though, I’m glad to see this. 

Her pocket buzzes. Aww fuck. Lame. I wanted to appreciate this a little longer…   

Freya fishes her phone out of her Forge Inkling Parka. Just what she was fearing. Another NSS meeting. Thinking on it, we didn’t have that many before. But maybe that was just because we were smaller then? Or is it because we didn’t have Kamabo to worry about? Maybe there’s new info about it. 

...Kamabo?  

Shaking off the thought process, Freya skims through the message. Impromptu meeting, sorry again, we’re really doing wack shit, meet us asap. Sheldon has once again forgotten to remove her from the group chat, which absolutely has to be intentional at this point. Do they want me there so they can keep an eye on me? 

“Hey, Jeanne, we’ve gotta wrap things up. You got enough shirts? Get any shoes?” Freya calls out, getting up from her more than comfortable perch to look for her roommate. 

“I even got a jacket! Look!” Jeanne calls in response, holding up a Zekko brand hoodie on the hanger. “We have to go?” 

“Yeah. Sorry. Sheldon sent out a group text calling us in. He says to be there ASAP.” Freya picks up the merchandise Jeanne was eyeing up, folding tanks and blouses and long flowy skirts over her arm. “Let’s go check out and head to Cuttlefish Cabin, okay?”

“Yes, okay!” Jeanne smiles, but Freya can tell by the look on her face that she was hoping to hang out at the mall at least a little longer. “Let us depart, then.” 

“We can come tomorrow, too. I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t have found everything we wanted or needed on day one, anyway. There’s a music store here we can visit to get you records for the gramophone I got you.” Freya leads the way to checkout once she’s certain Jeanne has everything. “Oh, we still need to set it up too…” 

“Oh! You are correct! We could do that tomorrow, if we are not doing anything else!” 

“Hah, I’m sure you’d manage to finish it in a breeze, Jeanne. You’re really smart.” 

“Ah, every time you say something like that, it…” Jeanne smiles shyly, a red hue on her face. She looks so damn happy with all the things she wanted in her arms, even if it’s gonna take a huge chunk out of the money Freya’s been saving. “I...get so embarrassed.” 

“Hey, it’s the truth. So get used to it, ‘kay?” Freya grins, heading up to the cashier at the register. 

She tries not to wince as the cashier tells them just how much their shopping spree costs. 

-🦑- 

As usual, the breeze in Octo Canyon is absolutely killer. Freya tightens her hold on the shopping bags in her hands, not willing to let any of the clothes she bought fly off. Jeanne follows behind her, something quiet muttered under her breath. 

“Hmm?” Freya turns toward her, following the line of sight she’s glaring in the direction of Octavio’s globe. Inside the globe the Octarian King shivers, turning around slowly, then quickly back once he sees who has arrived. It’s kind of sad how Octavio shrivels at the way Jeanne glares at him. 

“Hey, let’s head in. Don’t want any of this stuff to blow away in the wind.” 

“Oh. You are right...Yes. Let us go inside.” Jeanne tears herself away from staring down Octavio’s globe, a flash of something in her eyes. Freya doesn’t question it. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, of course. Jeanne is entitled to her feelings, and she’s not going to stand in the way of them. Especially if hating Octavio is one of those feelings, like holy shit . 

Now that I think about it, he isn’t even as afraid of me compared to Jeanne. Octavio HATES me, but he doesn’t exactly fear me. Why is that? 

Freya pushes the door to Cuttlefish Cabin open with her foot, side stepping her way into the room to finally put the bags down. “We’re heeeeere.” 

“Freya! Out! Now!” Marie calls out, standing at the kettle for her daily cup of tea. Everyone else is at the table, suddenly very interested in the surface of the table. 

“What?!   You guys invited me!” This is an outrage. She’s gonna beat up Sheldon once she gets the chance. 

“Sorry, kiddo.” The captain shuffles up to her, opening the door a little wider so Jeanne can pass. “Normally I’d love to hear your input on situations, but this one...it’s a little tricky.” 

Jeanne passes her with an apologetic look on her face. It’s not your fault, she seems to say. She takes a seat next to Freya’s usual seat, her hands in her lap. 

“Wh. Whaaaaat. Exactly what kind of situation is this that I can’t even show up to the meeting?” Freya gives her sisters a look, but both of them aren’t looking her in the eye, let alone at all. Cold. “I defeated Octavio. I saved you and Inkopolis. I can’t even listen in on this?” 

“Freya, I say this with all the kindness in my heart: You’re going to run into a situation you’re not aware of again. The instant you hear what this meeting’s about, you’re going to run headfirst into it without even listening to any of us.” Captain Cuttlefish frowns sadly, looking down as he adjusts his grip on his cane. “I love you like one of my own granddaughters, but I need you to stand down for this one. Please. You can even go bother Octavio during the meeting.” 

Well, if he’s gonna give the green light on it, who is she to refuse? 

“...Fine. I’ll stay out here, then.” Freya sighs, letting her shoulders drop. “I’m not taking these outside though. Jeanne and I went shopping today, and I’m not letting any of the cash I spent go to waste at the bottom of the canyon.” 

“Thanks, kiddo. Go ahead and leave ‘em there. We’ll send Jeanne out once the meeting’s over.” 

“Yeah, yeah…” 

She gives the room one last withering peek over her shoulder, stepping outside. Jeanne gives her a sympathetic look, Marie almost looking like she feels sorry for her. Callie smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Freya tries not to make it obvious that the door closing behind her hurts. 

You run into danger ONE time...wait, no, was it two? Or was it four times? Ugh, you’re proving them right! Shit!  

Freya kicks a rock, watching it sail over the edge of the platform. 

Whatever. If they wanna have their exclusive little club, I’ll just sit out here. Bother an old man who’s committed plenty more war crimes than anyone else I know. Shit, has he done more war crimes than Captain Cuttlefish, maybe? I know using kids in wars absolutely violates the Goldeye Conventions, but maybe if it’s not a formal declaration of war between two civilizations- I’m getting off topic. 

“Hey, DJ.” Freya stomps over to the snowglobe, sitting on the blanket that’s now been weighed down by stones so it doesn’t fly into the depths below. “Up for another match?” 

“Ugh, it’s you. Come to lose again?” Octavio glares, already crawling to his pot. 

“Yeah, it’s me. You gonna fight me or not? I could just sit here boring you to death, or you could do something that has the slight chance of asking me an embarrassing question as your victory. You gonna sit around doing nothing?” Freya crosses her arms, puffing out her chest. 

“Just so you’ll shut up, I’ll play.” Octavio groans, crossing his tentacles. “If you’re using that garbage deck of yours again, I’m going to almost feel bad for you.” 

"Haha. Ahaha! Joke's on you, I've got a different trick up my sleeve." Freya reaches into the inside pocket of her Forge Inkling Parka, pulling out a deck of cards. "You're not beating me this time. Just you wait!" 

"Bring it." 

-🎶🦑💕-

Callie Cuttlefish taps her hands on the table a little impatiently. The drinks she brought everyone are passed around by Pearl, who's sipping away at her own cup of something she had to custom order. I just kind of hope it isn't like, just a cup of mayo…Eugh, just thinking about it makes my mouth crawl. 

"Okay everyone, we all settled down?" Gramps says as he gets comfortable, stretching in his seat. "Ready for the debriefing?" 

"Yeah! Thanks again for the drinks, Callie." 

"Yeah, thanks! It's nice to get this stuff again…" 

"Ah, you're all welcome!" Callie chirps, smiling easily. Her hands go around her own cup of strawberry milkshake, extra whipped cream with cut up cherries just like she likes it. Man, I'm gonna tip those baristas big time next time I go in. This rules.

"So, I'm sure you're wondering where Agent One and I were yesterday." Gramps starts, looking around the table. Marie sits beside her on her left, her hands folded around her cup of tea. Next to her is Akila, then Pearl, Marina, Sheldon and Jeanne. 

"Yeah, felt kinda weird you ordered a raid when you weren't here, but…" Marie mumbles subtly, twirling a finger like she would around a loose tentacle. 

"You guys got to go on a raid?! Jealous!" Callie blurts out. Her grandfather clears his throat gently, making Callie sit back down. 

"Yes, they got to go on a raid. Please read the mission reports when you have the time, okay?" 

"Okay Gramps…" 

"Good! Now back on topic…" The captain leans his elbows on the table, his eyes scanning the whole group of agents present. Poor Freya. "Agent One and I went back underground to search for a way to board NILS. We found one." 

The air practically freezes. It's like the split second before the explosion of the Rainmaker, when everything is still for just a moment. She can spot a troubled look on Eight's face. 

"Because of some things going on, I decided to organize the search. I entrusted the mission yesterday to Marie as we explored the depths below. We found, well...some very interesting intel." 

Her grandfather pulls out some photos from a manila folder. They're all clearly taken in the moment, some blurred and others with grainy artifacts in them. Some are of eerie looking octoling soldiers, others of the subway train she saw down there. She remembers the moments these photos were taken very well. 

"Commander Tartar is not in control of Kamabo anymore. We know that for a fact. If he somehow managed to survive the scream Pearl pulled off that day, then I've really seen it all - but we were met with little to no resistance on reentry and extraction." The captain drums his fingers on the table as he thinks. "Sanitized octolings are now almost entirely peaceful." 

"Almost," she repeats. "The ones Gramps ran into didn't seem very conscious. I ran into a group that was...scavenging, I think. Those were hostile. I ended up having to run, got lost, etcetera." 

Marie lets out a stifled giggle at that. Callie gently elbows her in the ribs.

"Along with that, it seems with Kamabo Corp out of operations, no one down there can complete their testing. They're all more or less...trapped down there." 

Jeanne's face hardens. She stares down at her hands, the two folded around her cup. 

"We can try to save them, but it would require a lot of reconnaissance on our part. It's tricky. The Deepsea Metro is complicated. It almost uses kettle tech in an unconventional way." Captain Cuttlefish pulls out the CQ thingy Freya showed off at the meeting the day they returned. He fiddles with it, getting it to display a screen of the metro lines - but half of the stops are splintered off as if the line is entirely broken. "When Team Kamabo defeated NILS, the resulting shockwave rattled through the Deepsea Metro. Most of the stations have now been sort of...disconnected, leaving them somehow with a mosaic of broken stations. There's bits and pieces of different test chambers, all sort of clashing together." 

The mosaic was annoying to traverse. Callie doesn't even want to think about it right now. 

"Aside from the most annoying test chamber in the world, the octolings in test rooms now don't really do anything. There's someone relaying orders, probably, but they aren't hostile." Callie leans onto the table, taking a sip of her milkshake. Cod, that's good. "Which means we could probably create a new map documenting the current state of the Metro, actually list the civilian living spaces, and try to get people out. There's denizens of the deep, but I'm sure some of them would want to come up top." 

"That wasn't everything. Kiddo, do you want to tell them what you told me?" Gramps looks in her direction, his eyes encouraging her to talk.

"Whoa, you're sure? I'm pretty sure I was just seeing things, but…"

"I believe you, Callie. Go ahead and tell them what you saw down there." The rest of the New Squidbeak Splatoon stares at her expectantly, waiting for her to spill the beans.

He's pretty adamant on it...Okay. 

"Well, where to start..?" Callie taps a finger to her chin, staring at the ceiling for a moment. 

I can almost close my eyes and find myself back there again…

"When we were down there, we fell into a testing room that was in disrepair. I lost track of Gramps after this group of sanitized octolings ganged up on us, so I was running all over the place looking for him. Our comms don't work very well down there...it's weird." She stares down at her hands for a moment, gathering her thoughts. 

"At some point, I realized I was pretty lost."

Surprisingly, there's no stifled laughter from Marie. Not this time. 

"I came to the part of the Metro where the test rooms kind of...became like this weird mosaic, like we said. You know those things? It was just bits and pieces of testing rooms scattered everywhere, and I had no idea where I was. It was hard, 'cause you'd list notable landmarks, then run into an area that's completely different. I don't know. I got pretty scared, so I started to sing to myself to try to calm down while I went through the place." Never failed me before, probably never will.

"Anyway, after I ran around for what felt like forever, I heard this music."

She can still remember it. Like water dripping in a cave, like memories drifting just below the surface, barely out of reach. 

"I hadn't heard anything for a solid like, 9 scenery changes aside from myself, so I said 'fuck it' and just… followed it. It was nothing I've ever heard before. It was new, unique… Then it changed to something different, like a lofi song. But it still felt new." There was a lingering feeling of regret in the song that sticks with her even now. The melancholy drifts in the back of her mind. 

"Before long, I came across a part of the mosaic that was powered down, so it was just empty. I saw someone - an octoling, a sanitized octoling with the shades and everything - but they weren't hostile. They… actually led me out of the testing area. Before I could thank them, I heard Gramps calling me and they were gone." 

Green skin and dark clothes… Try as she might, Callie can't get the vision of the octoling out of her head. Maybe she's got..? 

"...were they cute?" Akila blurts out, snapping Callie out of it. It's here she notices what she likes to call the Lesbian Brigade staring at her expectantly. Pearl, Marina, Akila, and Marie are clearly waiting on her response. 

"Cute?" Callie's heart quickens. I didn't think of them like that in the moment, but... there's this air of mystery around them. I think I like that.

"Yes, answer the question?" Akila says, twirling her hand to spur her to go on with it.

"...YestheywerecuteandIwannaseethemagain." 

Hollers from the Lesbian Brigade immediately fill the room as Callie sits there, her face a bright yet proud pink. There's no reason for her to be ashamed of who she likes. Half the people here have committed war crimes probably, so what's a little crush gonna do? Lower her NSS cred? That penalty should go to Freya for fucking up so spectacularly with the Kraken since she wanted to protect Jeanne so bad, but this ain't about her. 

"Either way, I think that if that octoling was able to act on their own accord even with the shades on, they and the others might be saved! Commander Tartar's not controlling them anymore, so it should be fine, right? To go with our task at hand being finding a cure to sanitization?" 

"Well, I think it would be a good idea." Jeanne pipes up, one of the few not screaming their heads off right now. "There were many down there that I had to fight. I could not help but think about them the past while, that I escaped while they couldn't. I want to help them too, so they can see the surface as well with their own eyes." 

"You have a good heart, kiddo." Gramps says, patting Eight on the shoulder. "If everyone's in agreement, we can see if we can split our forces to focus on our two tasks. Freeing the rest of the Octarian army from Octavio's brainwashing, and searching Kamabo for a cure to sanitization and evacuating the remaining test subjects...it won't be easy, but that's never stopped us before." 

"Yeah." Marie has stopped yelling about Callie's crush finally. She yells EVERY time… she knows I have like five crushes a week! "We'll make things work. We're the New Squidbeak Splatoon, after all." 

"Yeah! I wouldn't mind heading down there either, by the way." Akila pipes up, leaning forward a tad. "We need to map a way out for test subjects that are still in Kamabo, too. There's got to be something else down there we can find!" 

"You're right about the first part for sure, Akila." Marina nods, pulling out her laptop. "There are tons of test subjects still down there. I looked through the administrator CQ-80 that Freya found and combed through the remaining test subjects files. Out of 10,008 subjects, about seven thousand test subjects are still down there in the Deepsea Metro. About three thousand are varied from species other than Inklings and Octolings, but the rest are almost exclusively Octolings." 

"Exclusively?  How could that even be possible?" A troubled look goes over Marie's face as she thinks. 

"Kamabo has been active for decades... and the sudden spike of Octoling volunteers started about two years ago." 

Oh. 

Callie shoots her cousin a look. Marie catches it easily, the same haunted one mirrored on her own face. 

Ah, shit. This is our fault. 

"It's not your fault," Marina immediately interjects. Was it that obvious on their faces? "Kamabo likely had pitfalls everywhere. Deceptively empty domes, abandoned kettles, stuff like that… What happened was unfortunate timing. You two aren't directly at fault." 

Still, it kind of sucks… Callie leans on her elbows, pouting as she plants her chin in her hands. Gramps pats her back reassuringly, warming her heart a little. 

“If anything, it was mine for getting captured. Don’t feel guilty about it, okay?” Gramps says, his voice a somber rumble.

“Either way, we’re working to free everyone. Both Octolings and those left behind in Kamabo, so we’re making up for that.” Marie murmurs, looking down at her interlaced fingers. Akila leans over, wrapping an arm around her. 

She’s trying to reassure herself she’s still a good person. I don’t feel pretty great right now either. Poor Marie, though...

“Yeah. We are. So let’s just, um, focus on Kamabo then.” Callie looks down at her hands, quiet as she tries to move the meeting along. 

"Before I forget." Gramps starts, putting the CQ thing away. "None of you can tell Freya about this. She's got a certain mentality - if people are in danger, she's going to jump headfirst into it. I'm sure the Kraken Incident backs me up here." 

Hah, now we're referring to it as the Kraken Incident? I love that. We love to see it.  

The group at the table nods reluctantly, passing each other looks. Sheldon in particular doesn't seem like he likes the idea. Jeanne neither. 

"Now, while I'd love to start organizing searches already, I'm kind of exhausted after recon. We're taking the rest of the day off, so be ready tomorrow for new orders." Gramps smiles with that bushy beard of his, the sight calming her nerves a tad. "Meeting adjourned." 

The other agents murmur to each other, Akila giving Jeanne a sympathetic look. The octoling stands, heading to the door. 

"I am going to get Freya. I do not know if she is still out there." 

"Oh, she is. I've been keeping an eye on her with the surveillance system." Sheldon supplies, holding up a little gloved hand. "You never know when she'll decide to go on a sabbatical!" 

"Cod, I remember my first sabbatical…" Marie muses, drumming her fingers on the table. "Go ahead and get her, Jeanne. I've got to make an official Fashion Review of the clothes she got you." 

"Ah, yes! I will get her." 

With that, Jeanne heads out. 

I knew I was right to think she has a crush. She's so sweet. I hope they get together in the end. We Cuttlefish and Honorary Cuttlefish are strong. Reliable. Hopefully Freya gets over this illness or whatever so she can give it her all…

I still can't believe Gramps and Marie are so worried about her, though. Freya is incredible. I don't think she'd get taken down so easily. Not by Kamabo, and not by some random infection. 

It's been a while. Shouldn't Jeanne be back by now? Callie sits up, peering in the direction of the door. What if they're doing something cute..? I'd kill for a peek at that…

Oh, and what if I got a picture?! 

The power of Team Freyanne compels her! 

"I'll be riiiiiight back." Callie scoots up, heading to the door. 

-🦑-

"Hah! I win, you sack of shit!" Freya cheers, tossing up the cards in her hand in celebration. Octavio predictably fumes, smacking the inside surface of the snowglobe angrily.

"You cheated! You squid filth, you absolutely cheated!" 

"'Waah, you can't blame a mediocre performance on me just because we're enemies!' Isn't that what you said last time?" 

"Rrrgh, when I get out of here, I swear you're going to regret it!" 

"Nice try Octavio, but you're not getting out of this anytime soon. Now, my reward!" Freya holds her head up high, smiling smugly as she thinks of an embarrassing question to force her enemy to answer. 

"Whatever, as long as it's not about that girl-" 

"Oh?" Freya leans in, her sharp teeth gleaming as she grins. "Oh? Is there a mortifying reason you don't want me to ask about a girl? Oh?" 

"Ugh, I don't want to talk about it!" Octavio crosses his arms, sulking as he does so. "And you know her, she's the soldier you lot brainwashed into working for you." 

"Jeanne? You don't want me to ask about Jeanne? You don't seem to care about Marina or Beryl, though." This is pretty odd, even for Octavio… "And we didn't stoop to your level, Jeanne joined us out of her own free will." 

"Look, it's complicated." Strangely enough, Octavio seems serious. The aggression in his tone melts away as he sighs with a grumble, his scarred tentacle pinching a pressure point between his eyes. 

"Aaaaand the rules of the wager say the victor can ask about anything. You agreed to the rules. You and I both know we don't have anything better to do than this." Freya crosses her arms, sighing softly. "So, you opening up or not?" 

"Uuuuuuugh." Unwilling to look her in the eye, Octavio flops over and starts to scoot toward the pot at the bottom of the snowglobe. 

"You want me to go in there and tell the entire New Squidbeak Splatoon that you're afraid of Jeanne? Cause if you don't answer me, I'll do it." Damn, she should look into interrogating criminals sometime. She'd be damn good at it too, if it didn't involve working with cops. "I'm sure they'd love to find out that the King of Octarians is scared to death of one of his former soldiers."

"You wouldn't dare." Octavio shoots her a glare behind his stupid ladder shades, almost challenging her to give it a shot.

"Try me." Freya sits up straighter, crossing her arms. Why's he acting so weird?   "You want me to go in there?"

Octavio makes a rumbling groan, clearly irritated with the way things are heading. "Ugh. Fine. You got me. Shut up before they come out here." 

"Alright, but you gotta tell." Freya relaxes her posture, picking up her fallen cards before the canyon wind blows them into the abyss below. 

"Yeah, whatever. Shut up." Octavio clears his throat, his tentacles tensed up as he sorts out his thoughts. "The, um...the hairpin your friend has? The hairpin is why I'm afraid of her." 

Freya sits in silence for a minute. 

"Wait a minute, you're terrified because of her hairpin?! It's an article of clothing, dude! Are you fucking kidding me?!" 

"That's not it! Ugh, you squids wouldn't understand- it's not the pin itself, it's what it stands for!" 

Okay, he lost me there.  

"What it...stands for." Freya repeats slowly, furrowing her brow. "Yeah no, you're not making sense. Quit beating around the bush, old man." 

"Rrrgh, fine! The golden pin is an heirloom! An heirloom of the Octarian Throne! It's proof of one's connection to the current dynasty ruling over Octarian territory! Are you happy?!" Octavio looks like he's ready to sink into the ground. 

"What?" 

"That octoling girl - Jeanne? She's- ugh, she's my daughter! She's my daughter and she betrayed me to join you squid filth and it's mortifying! Cuttlefish probably can’t stop laughing himself to sleep every night because he has that hanging over my head! Is that enough?!"

Wh-

Footsteps snap Freya out of her thoughts before she can even begin to process things. Standing in the doorway of Cuttlefish Cabin is Jeanne, her brown eyes wide. 

There's no way she didn't hear that. 

The whites of her eyes tinge green as Octavio's words sink in. Ever so quietly yet every bit overwhelmingly emotional, Jeanne says just one word with a voice that breaks her heart. 

"...What?"

Chapter Text

"...What?"

Jeanne's wide, brown eyes stare back at her. Freya practically feels her heart shatter as her roommate's face knits up in a variety of emotions.  There's shock, horror, anger, so much anger that the whites of her eyes flash with a shade of green - the same green in Octavio's eyes - before she grits her teeth and runs toward the edge of Tentakeel Outpost. 

"Jeanne, wait!" Freya shoots up to her feet, meaning to chase after her friend, but a wave of dizziness crashes over her as she does so. Fuck. Ugh, this sucks...  

She can barely hear the sound of someone Super Jumping before she looks up again, spotting Jeanne's silhouette flying in the direction of Octo Valley. 

Octavio is practically silent as he stares at his supposed daughter’s form running away. I'll deal with him later. I have to go after her before the others-

"What the..? Freya, what happened?" Callie murmurs, peeking out the doorway of Cuttlefish Cabin. 

It can never be that simple, huh?

Not bothering with answering her sister-in-arms right now, Freya makes a break for the edge that Jeanne Super Jumped from. She barely hears Callie cry out in alarm before she takes off in a jet of dull orange ink. 

The canyon becomes smaller and smaller. On the tiny blip of the cabin doorway, Freya can spot the rest of the NSS leaving the cabin and staring skyward. I can't stop now. I have to make sure Jeanne is okay… I have to-  

Pain flares up across her face like rows of needles, practically forcing Freya to cry out as she nearly hits the octopus shaped land formation with the change in trajectory. 

"FUCK!" she screams aloud, knowing damn well she can do so up here without alerting anyone. 

Area One of Octo Valley is coming into view now. She can spot the shack, the trees, and most of all, the form of Eight walking towards the edge of the platform. 

Fuck. Fuck, okay. Okay, reel it in. You can do it. You can be reassuring. You can do this. 

Wait, the ground's coming in too fast-!!

Barely able to bite back a yell of panic, Three makes impact with the ground once, pain blazing over her elbow. OWW! She practically bounces and hits the ground twice as she scrapes her knee roughly, then a third and fourth time before finally coming to a halt. 

"Ugh…" FUCK. SHIT. FUCKING HELL.

Three turns onto her back to face the twilight sky, blinking back orange tears. She can feel the wet texture of blood starting to spring from her leg. Her shoulder didn't like the initial impact either - but she has more pressing matters to attend to. 

Gritting her teeth, Freya pulls herself up. Her right arm doesn't feel great at all. She grips her arm tightly as she forces herself to her feet, ignoring the dull orange blood running down her leg. No Super Jumps, then. Got it. Eugh, it still hurts. 

Jeanne stands in front of the old shack Freya used to live in with Captain Cuttlefish. The worn down decor is still the same, down to the conspiracy board that covers the front. From where she's standing, Freya can spot the glimmer of gold in Jeanne's hand. 

The octoling's claws tighten around the golden hairpin. She rears up her arm as if she's winding up for a pitch, almost tossing the trinket down into the endless abyss below - but her hand stops just before releasing it. Jeanne's form trembles as she lowers her arm, staring at the Golden Toothpick with something Freya can't quite see from this angle. 

"...Are you really gonna throw it away?" 

Jeanne whirls around in her direction, her hands tightening around the pin. The spots where the whites of her eyes would normally be are colored an angry green, reminding her too much of Octavio. The tint fades as her roommate realizes who pursued her. Red tinted tears brim in the corners of her eyes.

"Oh... It is just you. I did not notice that you followed me." Her voice feels detached, almost like she's barely suppressing her true emotions. Jeanne turns back towards the edge, staring down the drop. 

"It's what friends do. They check on each other." Freya trudges closer, step by step. "But for real though… are you gonna throw your hairpin away?" 

"I am… conflicted," Eight murmurs, letting Three approach. By the way her tentacles are practically twisting themselves into a knot, she could use someone right now. "This pin… it has been with me my whole life. It is proof that I am… that man's kin, so I want to be rid of it. But… a part of me still wants to keep it." 

Freya glances to the side, spotting red purple tears brimming on the corners of Jeanne's eyes. “Why don’t you keep it then? Just because there’s one little thing you’ve learned about your pin doesn’t mean you can’t keep enjoying it.” 

“I do not know,” Jeanne sighs. She wipes her face with a sleeved arm, her shoulders slumped. “I think that… If I were to keep it, I fear that I may become just like him.” 

“You? Like Octavio?” Freya barely masks the bewilderment in her voice. “Jeanne, you do know who you’re talking about, right? You’re the sweetest person I know.” 

“Yes, but…” 

“No buts.” Freya reaches to hold her by the shoulders, pausing just before making contact. Jeanne doesn’t object, so she holds her firmly. “You are the smartest, sweetest, prettiest person in this entire fucking valley. Even in Octo Canyon and Inkopolis and the whole world after that. You’re nothing like Octavio, okay? Just because he gave you a pin that means you share blood doesn’t mean you’re anything like him. You’re strong, you’re talented…” 

Jeanne makes a bubbling sob as Freya continues to list off things she admires about her. "Freya, I don't think I really am all those things." 

"What?" She almost grips a little too tightly on her shoulder at that. "Has somebody been bullying you? Who said that? You're literally the coolest person I know." 

"I know, but… Aren't you angry? I am the daughter of your sworn enemy. We should be fighting, not..." Her brown eyes look so sad. It's crushing Freya's heart to a pulp. "Not…"

"Why should that matter? Before you knew who your parents were, you didn't let that stop you from living your life. I didn't let that stop me from taking you in, either." Freya gently cups Jeanne's face with a hand, making the octoling look back at her. "Family is what you make of it, not what's in your DNA. Just because you share blood doesn't mean you're going to be like him a hundred percent. I know that better than anyone." 

There's a soft pause as the words settle in. Jeanne's clawed fingers delicately reach up to touch Freya's, covering her hand on her face. 

"Freya, if… if I ever end up like him-" 

"What, grumpy and old and trapped in a snowglobe for practically enslaving his own people for his whims?" 

Jeanne thinks for a moment. "...Actually, when you put it like that…" 

"Yeah, I thought so." Freya smiles, hoping it helps lift the weight off her friend's shoulders a bit. "And you know, if you were to keep wearing the pin and ignoring everything it means to Octavio, could you imagine how pissed he'd be? Wearing it proudly, not caring about the implications… I think that in itself is pretty badass." 

"You are not wrong…" Jeanne smiles a little, making Freya mark down a win in her mental book. "Fine. I will keep this pin then." 

"That's the spirit. Now we hug." Freya holds her arms out. 

Jeanne immediately tackles her in a bone-crushing hug, the force knocking Freya onto her back. Her ponytail's tentacles twirl slightly in the twilight, much more at ease than before.  "...Thank you, Freya. For everything." 

"Of course. I care about you.” Freya’s chest tightens as words she wants to say try to rise to the surface. The agent kicks them back down where they belong, not wanting to ruin things as they are. This… isn’t the time for those feelings. Her arms tighten around her friend despite it all.

"Wait, what is-? AH! FREYA!" Jeanne jumps back, staring down at smudges of dull orange blood pressed onto her legs. "You are hurt?! Why didn't you say anything?!" 

Fuck. "Oh. Shit. I just thought you'd want some comfort before I took care of it, so-" 

"If it were not for your kind words, I would throw you down the valley myself!" The octoling gets up, scrambling towards Cuttlefish's place. "Captain would have medical supplies here, right?!" 

"Jeanne, it's fine… and yes, I made sure he updated his first aid kit." Freya sighs softly, laying her head back down on the ground. 

"Good! I almost want to be mad at you, but-! I just cannot be angry with you right now!" Despite her words, Freya can feel some fondness in Jeanne's tone. 

Before long her roommate returns with the box she remembers stocking with fresh medical supplies. The octoling looks over Freya's leg nervously, clearly at a loss about something.

"Do you know what to do?" Freya murmurs, letting her look at the wound.

"...I cannot put on the gloves. My claws..." Eight admits. She has her phone in one hand expertly texting away, either for help or advice. Who is she talking to?

"Shit. Let me…" Freya props herself up, reaching for the set of gloves in Jeanne's other hand. The octoling barely pulls it out of her reach. 

"You cannot. You are hurt… even if I do not one hundred percent know what to do, I must do something." 

"Okay." That's that, then. "There could be something else you could try. Go see if there's a clean towel inside. I'll try to call the others to help you out."

"I am trying to call them right now. The connection here is not very good… but I will go look for the towel. Be still, okay?" 

"I will."

Jeanne runs back into the shack, leaving Freya alone with her thoughts. 

Thoughts which are not very happy, by the way. 

You idiot. How stupid can you be? Her head rings dully, making her whine a bit. She's got a hell of a headache now on top of everything else. You nearly got yourself killed. Just a bit further and you would've fallen right off into the valley. 

Ugh, can't you just shut up? Freya covers her eyes with her arm, the headache making her vision swim. Seriously, I'm in pain here.

You deserve it. Your pathetic kind is not worthy of the life you all lead. Ugh, this is seriously getting annoying.

Okay, edge lord. Shut the fuck up or I'm yeeting myself over that edge. You want that? 

That shuts the voice up. Freya rubs her temples irritatedly, wanting to go home already. None of her messages are going through, either. 

"I found a few!" Jeanne calls out, pulling Freya out of her thoughts. She approaches with three different towels folded over her arm, placing them on her lap as she sits down again. "Now what do I do?" 

"Okay, since it's starting to sort of clot up, you gotta clean the area a bit. There should also be some rubbing alcohol or something in the kit to help make that a little easier. Pour some of it onto the towel, then use it to clean my leg." 

"I understand." Jeanne follows along easily, making a little sound at how cold the rubbing alcohol is. "And this will...hurt a little, right?" 

"Yeah." Freya shuts her eyes, bracing for it. "Just do it. It's okay. I trust you." 

Fiery-hot pain blazes through her knee, making Freya jaw clench. She holds back many swear words begging to breach the surface as Jeanne continues, quietly repeating how sorry she is. 

"Nnnnow get the- fuck, the gauze pads. There should be some- shit that burns- some gauze in there." 

"Yes, I…" There's a pause. Jeanne pulls back the towel, the pain ringing throughout her leg. "What the..?" 

"What's wrong?" 

"Look… look, it's…" 

Freya leans her head forward, forcing her eye open. Despite her natural ink color being orange, below the patch of skin that was torn open by her botched landing lies a foaming blue-green ooze. The alcohol is only aggravating it, spurring it further, covering the orange with it. 

Jeanne's eyes look so, so terrified. 

"Freya, you…" 

"Huh?" Why is she looking at me like that? 

"You are… oh Cod, Freya…" Jeanne backs up, dropping the towel in her hands. She steps back further. There's something she's not telling her, but what is it? 

"Jeanne, you're scaring me. If it's about cleaning the wound, I can just clean it up myself and we can head back. I just… can't Super Jump anymore." It hurts. It hurts, it hurts.

"That is… that is not it. I am going to look for a radio. Maybe that will work better than our phones…" 

Before she can say anything else, Jeanne runs back inside the shack. 

Something's wrong. With my leg and with Jeanne. What is it..? Fuck, I can't focus with all the everything going on…

Her eyelids flutter as she feels fuzziness start to spread throughout her body. No, I gotta… stay awake. Gotta make sure Jeanne's okay. Gotta…

It's not helping. She's not stupid. In a last ditch effort, Freya tries to pull herself up to at least get the wound clean - but to no avail. 

Ugh, it hurts… so much… 

I can't… stay awake any… more...

Freya reluctantly drifts off, succumbing to the unbearable pain. 

-🐙-

Jeanne's barely holding back tears as she gets out of Freya's sight. Inside the dilapidated yet functional living space Captain Cuttlefish inhabits, she sits on an old couch with her head in her hands.

Was it too much to hope I could leave Kamabo behind? Was it too much to hope that I could- 

Just thinking about the concept of love is ripping her apart. Of course it was foolish to hope, foolish to pray for a better future. Of course it was too much to dream of a life with Freya. 

Of course it was foolish to think she could escape Kamabo. 

She's going to be sanitized. Why did I not catch it sooner? Of course Freya has been acting odd, she is fighting off the sanitization process! 

Red-purple tears flood her vision as she grits her teeth, biting back a wail. She's going to become one of them, and then I will have to fight her. Maybe kill her. I do not want that. I don't!

I just got comfortable with this life. I don't want it to fall apart like this! 

A ringing noise interrupts her, pulling Jeanne out of her internal sobs. An old rusted - yet somehow functional - antique phone attached to a radio rings. The model reminds her too much of Commander Tartar. 

Hesitantly, Jeanne answers. 

"Hello?"

"Eight?! Oh thank Cod, you picked up! What happened?" Callie's voice crackles over the feed, comforting her just a bit. 

"Callie. Callie, Freya is hurt. She Super Jumped after me and scraped her knee badly." Tears well in her eyes again as Jeanne anxiously fiddles with the telephone cord. 

"What?! Oh Coddamnit, that idiot-! We'll send Akila and the others on their way, just stay put! I'll see you-" 

"That is not all," Jeanne interrupts, a sob bubbling out of her throat. "Freya, I finally know what is wrong with her. Callie, she is going to be sanitized. She is- I am going to have to-" 

She hears a quiet gasp over the phone, then murmurings in the background. "We're on our way. Don't tell her anything if you haven't already. Just stay put, okay?"

"Okay," Jeanne manages, sniffling as she wipes her eyes with her sleeve. "Be careful." 

"Same to you, Jeanne." Callie's voice cuts out after that, leaving Jeanne alone again with the realization she made. She makes her way back to the worn sofa, not trusting herself to return to Freya without crying. 

I should have known better, her thoughts say softly, twisting the knife in her heart. The sofa creaks like rusted machinery as Jeanne wraps her arms around herself. First the discovery of her heritage, now this.

I should have known better than to fall in love with someone. Now Freya is going to…

Distantly, she hears the sound of a Super Jump approaching the area. 

Freya is going to lose everything. 

I'm going to be alone again. The only one to make it out of there. The only one. 

How could this happen? I didn't think… I didn't expect Freya to...

Four people make landfall. Footsteps hurry toward her direction while the other three pairs scramble around where she left Freya. Callie's worried face pops up in the doorway, her expression immediately crushing into a somber one as she takes in the scene. 

"Oh, Jeanne… C'mere." 

She doesn't have to say it twice. The idol hugs her tightly, murmuring comfortingly as Jeanne cries and sobs into her shoulder. "It's okay. Big sister Callie is here to fix things."

Jeanne doesn't remember drifting off after crying her eyes out. 

-🦑- 

Ugh...

Freya comes to in the comforting environment of Cuttlefish Cabin once again. Her body feels far too heavy. If she squints with her one eye, she can spot a needle in her hand running up to an IV. 

"Hey… hey. Where's…" She slurs, trying to get up. Her body completely refuses to budge. 

She can hear whispers coming from the mission control room. This and that about sanitization. Marina's voice sticks out, along with Captain Cuttlefish's. 

Boring. She just wants to get up. Freya lets out a grumble as she tries to move again. Same results.

They cannot hear you. Her head rings. 

Pain shoots behind her eye. Freya cries out, but the sound doesn't breach the surface. What the-

You are awake. You cannot move. 

I am in control. 

Her hand tightens not on her own accord, clenching and unclenching repeatedly, almost like it's testing the dexterity. 

This can't be happening. This has to be a dream. 

Freya Rán… this is no dream.

Are you ready to become something bigger than yourself? 

No, she replies, practically digging her heels in. Her body refuses to respond to her, but she sure as hell still has her spirit. Go fuck yourself! Get your own body, bitch! 

For now, I have this one. The words send a chill down Freya's spine. You will become one of my greatest creations. I will be reborn in the ashes your consciousness leaves behind. 

Fuck. Off. Bitch. Quit stalking me! Creep! Gritting her teeth, Freya manages to keep her hand tight in a fist. Sweat trails down her clammy face. If you had any honor, you'd fight me hand to hand, bastard! 

You still have some fight left in you. 

We'll see just how much longer that lasts. 

All at once, the difficulty moving drains away as if Freya was holding her breath. She takes a gasp of air, rocketing upright. 

What the hell was that..?

"Freya?" Pearl's voice pops up, not much further away from her. Did she really not see all of that? She leans toward the meeting room, cupping her hands around her mouth. "Guys, Freya's awake!"

The whispers halt. A beat passes as Captain Cuttlefish makes it to the doorway, using his old  Bamboozler as support. There's an odd look in his face - sadness, regret, mourning? - as he approaches her. Marina and Sheldon trail behind him, the same look mirrored on their faces.

Something’s wrong.

"How are you feeling, kiddo?" His voice rumbles, settling some of her nerves. He takes a seat next to the futon her body lies on, laying his old weapon across his knees. 

"I feel like shit." Freya admits, laying back down. The captain laughs a little at that. The tension in the air melts away just a tad as Freya shuts her eye. Her headache is back with a vengeance and the lights are way too bright right now. 

"Well, you'll feel better soon. Just hang in there. Okay?" Craig pats her forehead gently, helping to sap away the feverish heat concentrated there. "You can't go doing crazy things like that anymore. Not until you're better."

"I know." She feels bad, tears springing up as she lets her captain comfort her. "Is Jeanne okay?" 

"She's letting off some steam right now. Octavio told us about the hairpin. No wonder she stormed off like that…" Craig turns a bit, beckoning someone over. 

"Freya, take a look." Marina's voice murmurs, a slightly pleased undertone to it. Three pries her eye open, greeted with the octoling's open laptop. 

On screen is a feed of an abandoned dome. Marie is staring at her watch, feigning keeping track of time as she spectates. In the fighting area of the dome - likely an abandoned boss dome - Octavio is running for his life in his rarely seen humanoid form. Chasing after him like a woman on a mission is Jeanne's furious face, her green tinted eyes blazing as she tosses her Octoshot aside entirely and dives at the sucker, her fists landing two, then three mean hooks. 

Haha. Holy shit. Holy shit that's hot. 

"When we brought you two back, Octavio insisted on seeing his daughter in a more 'civilized' environment. Probably to convince her to set him free. Jeanne was having none of it, so Octavio challenged her to a duel," Craig explains, watching as Jeanne starts kicking. "I was against it for a moment… but I thought better of it. Jeanne is strong and it's not every day you see Octavio beaten soundly by his own kin." 

"Yeah, no way." Freya watches, a little giddy as Octavio starts screaming for a time out. Callie pretends not to hear him, smirking as Jeanne pulls on her opponent's hair. She can barely make out Akila standing by, acting almost like a referee.  

I'll have to thank them later. It's nice of them to let Jeanne cut loose, violent as it is. She deserves a nice easy way to let off steam.

"The thing with her eyes, is that an Octavio bloodline thing? I've only seen it on him before today," Freya mumbles, her own eye transfixed on Jeanne's. 

"Yes. When under a lot of emotional pressure, stress, or anxiety, the whites of their eyes turn green. It's consistent with the various members of the current ruling dynasty. Jeanne just apparently never got like this before. Not even in the Deepsea Metro," Cuttlefish admits, adjusting Freya's hair. 

"Huh." Not even in Kamabo… Interesting. It looks ugly on Octavio, but on Jeanne it looks really fierce.  

Exhaustion settles into her bones. Not like it ever left, anyway. Freya lies her head back down, a sigh escaping her. As the IV she's hooked up to begins to run dry, the captain switches it for a fresh one. A clear fluid drips into her veins, the pain slowly ebbing away.

"Kiddo," Captain Cuttlefish starts, a tone of finality to his voice. 

"It was my fault. I got reckless. For that I got hurt. You don't have to tell me twice," Freya interrupts, shutting her eye. 

"That's not it." His voice rumbles as he pats down her forehead gently with a damp washcloth. "I wanted to thank you for doing what you did for Jeanne. For chasing after and talking to her. I'm sure she had a lot of conflicting emotions about her heritage." 

"Oh." She feels almost bad for assuming. "It's nothing. I'm sure she would've done the same for me." 

There's a pause, like the people in the room are sharing a look at her words. 

"Go ahead and rest, Freya. We'll keep watch while you sleep. Okay?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I'll… I think I'll do that." Her body aches relentlessly. "Captain?" 

"Yes?" 

"Sorry. For causin' trouble all the time, I mean." Tears prick at the edges of her eyes - must be the exhaustion. People can't know she has feelings. "I know you guys care about me, but I keep fuckin' things up. So… sorry." 

"It's gonna be okay." For some reason, the words feel like Captain Cuttlefish is trying to reassure himself, too. "Just rest up, Freya. It'll get better soon." 

"Okay. Okay, I'll… do that." 

"Good. It's going to get better… it has to." His voice rumbles softly, easing Freya back into an uneasy sleep.

-🔫🦑🎧-

Captain Craig Cuttlefish watches as the fresh IV knocks Freya out with a dose of morphine, just enough to tide her over for the rest of the day. Behind him, he can hear Marina clear her throat quietly.

"Um, Captain…" The DJ murmurs, glancing uneasily at Pearl to avoid looking him in the eye. "You were supposed to tell her-"

"I know. I just… I can't tell her just yet. It's selfish, but if I told her now, then…" 

"You sure it's a good idea to not tell her about… you know?" Pearl mumbles, peeking over at Freya's sleeping body as if she’d spring awake any moment. "The, um…" 

"I know it'd be best coming from me, but… if I were to tell her now, she'd panic. She would probably try to run off and isolate herself, but that would aggravate the issue once… you know." Craig strokes his beard quietly. "She'd be a danger to herself and anyone else in the vicinity. I don't know if it's quite the right time to tell her about such a sensitive matter." 

The two idols watch Freya's sleeping form for a moment, as if trying to gauge the truth of his words. 

"...Yeah, I could see that happening." Pearl nods.

"For sure." Marina pauses, checking her laptop. "It looks like Eight is done with her business, so we should be getting some company soon. I think she's calm enough now to take Freya home… but we should still go with her." 

"I'd appreciate it if you did. Octavio probably has more than enough grievances after the beatdown I just approved, so I'll be caught up here for a while." Cuttlefish adjusts his glasses carefully, already hearing the Octarian king's voice complaining in his head. 

Cod, Octavio can complain a lot. 

"Yeah, we can do that. Beryl wants to join the NSS too, but she felt like organizing the entire garage at the Houzuki Estate today. Once we tell her what's going on, we could probably get her on the team to help with finding a cure." Pearl leans forward in her chair, propping her elbows on her knees. "We could probably use as many hands on deck as possible right now, anyway." 

"Yes, especially with Freya off the team. I plan to keep her off for as much as possible, but who knows what'll happen when she inevitably gets bored?" He still remembers the time Agent Three decided to beat down Octavio using just the Kraken special. How did she even manage that? "I'm counting on Jeanne to keep an eye on her. She's been honest so far about her wellbeing, so I trust her to do what she can." 

Footsteps approach the cabin. A practically unconscious Octavio is hoisted over Akila's buff shoulder, far too beaten and exhausted to attempt to escape. Jeanne follows in after, sweaty and ruffled yet the happiest he's ever seen her. His granddaughters come in last, shutting the door as Off the Hook gives Eight a pat on the back for her flawless victory. 

"Okay, where should I put this guy? He's totally knocked out. And like, slimy." 

"Put him next to Freya. I'll get an IV for him." Craig plants his Bamboozler in the ground as he gets up, his old body aching. Maybe I'm getting too old for this. "Jeanne, you did great." 

"Ah, thank you! I feel like I may have overdone it, though…" 

"No, he totally deserves it."

"Yep. Don't feel bad for him."

"Okay, you are right. He deserves it." Jeanne nods, taking a seat next to Freya. "How is she?" 

"Oh, Frey' woke up a little while ago. She totally thought you looked hot beating up Octavio." Pearl blurts out.

“Hot?” Jeanne's face turns red as she sputters. "Um, hot? Hot. I see. Hmm. Thank you." 

The two idol groups in the room share A Look, clearly still in their mission to get the girls together. They start to heckle and tease Jeanne, saying things about romance and such. While Craig would normally be enabling this behavior, it doesn't quite feel right, given the circumstances. 

That energy could be put to finding a cure for Freya and the others. I should talk to them later… but not while Jeanne is here.  

For now, Cuttlefish settles for hooking Octavio up to an IV to help numb the pain at least a bit. It's been a while since he's seen his humanoid form. 

Long, uneven tentacles frame Octavio's bruised face. Behind him in a topknot are three of the longest ones, almost looking like old world Japan's traditional chonmage hairstyle. The gaudy kimono the king is wearing he remembers, though. Octavio ordered him to buy one for him two years ago, when they were still primarily stationed in Octo Valley. The design would've been fine if it didn't have so much… Octavio flair added onto it. 

There's something almost funny about the situation. Agent Three and the Octarian King, laying down side by side in the NSS' makeshift sickbay as they get treated for their injuries. It would be funny if Captain Cuttlefish wasn’t thinking about how he might lose one of the kids he's come to think of like a third granddaughter. 

Good Cod, he might lose a grandkid. He hasn’t thought of it like that before. There would always be risks with being involved with the New Squidbeak Splatoon, but his granddaughters always seem so strong and confident in the face of adversity. Even when he was about to be blended into a pulp alongside Jeanne, he knew Freya would pull through. 

And she did, but maybe that's what got her into this whole mess now. 

Craig sighs quietly as he scoots over to Freya, carefully removing the safety pins keeping her bandages together. He can feel someone watching him - probably Jeanne, from the way they're hovering. 

"Captain," Jeanne murmurs, her voice soft now. 

"I didn't tell her anything. It's too soon to do so. I think we have time to at least start to look for a cure," he says, gently peeling the bandages away from Freya's sleeping face. "Tomorrow we can send recon into Kamabo. You don't have to go if you're not comfortable, Jeanne." 

The octoling kneels beside him, a fresh roll of bandages in her hands. She nods slowly, her face troubled. "I do not want to go down there behind Freya's back. I think that… she would not be happy to know I was back in Kamabo, even if it was for her sake." 

Callie and Marie hover nearby, worried looks on their faces despite their previous teasing. Maybe it was just a front to keep Jeanne's mind at ease? They do think of Freya as a sister, after all. Of course they'd be worried.

"You know, Jeanne, it's fine if you don't want to go down there. You and Gramps and Frey' almost died down there," Marie murmurs, leaning against the wall of the shack. Royal Knight Bartholomew the Seventeenth lets out a little whistle, peeking out the corner of their terrarium. "You don't have to not want to go for Freya's sake. Your feelings matter too. We've got tons of people here that can take your place, whether it's aboveground watching Freya, or underground doing missions. So don't feel pressured to pick one, okay?" 

Jeanne nods again, checking Freya's right eye. Her clawed fingers carefully replace the gauze pad without pricking her comrade. "It is okay. I do not want to go down there either way. The things I went through...they were very painful. I do not want to revisit them this soon." 

Callie watches worriedly, glancing between him and Marie. "That’s fine then. I could go down there instead, but… I wanted to organize something too. For tomorrow, I mean.” 

“Another beach day?” Cuttlefish asks, letting Jeanne go ahead and wrap the bandages around Freya’s head since she seems to know what she’s doing. “Is it a good idea to have one at a time like this?” 

“Of course it is! We could even invite all the octolings we freed! It’d be nice to catch up with them, even those girls that Three and Eight ran into.” Callie pumps her fist, always eager to raise morale. Craig is glad that she's always ready to search for a silver lining. “That way Freya has something to do, and the people not on the mission can hang out with the people we saved! It’s a good idea, right?” 

“The beach?! I have wanted to go for a while!” Jeanne chirps, a bright look in her face. 

“Yeah, it wouldn’t be a bad idea.” Marie nods, closing her eyes. “Any of us staying behind could even make connections to see if anyone knows about Kamabo.”

“Let’s be real, you want to see Akila in that swimsuit we bought her last beach day again.” 

Marie sputters, her face a lime green. “Not! Not just Akila! Come on, you can’t use my girlfriend against me all the time!”

“I heard girlfriend. What’s up?” Akila says, sliding beneath the shelves to wrap her arm around Marie’s waist. Despite her words and flustered face, Marie leans against her. The sight warms Cuttlefish’s heart, the tension melting out of his posture a bit more. 

As the girls talk, Jeanne finishes up. She slides the two safety pins back into place and nods at their secure state, pleased with the job. “All done.” 

“Good job, Eight. You’ve really come a long way since we’ve met, you know.” Craig smiles, adjusting his glasses. “Tomorrow you’ll be able to relax a bit at least. You think you can take Freya home?” 

“Yes, I can.” 

“Okay. Go ahead and get changed then. I’ll stay here to watch her. Pearl and Marina are going with you, too.” 

Jeanne nods, heading for the dressing room. Beside him he feels his granddaughters sit down, obviously trying to gauge how he’s doing. Akila stands nearby almost awkwardly as she watches. 

Alright, seems like I’m not getting out of this. 

“Pearl, Marina, go ahead and get ready to head home,” Craig orders with a sigh. “Meeting adjourned. Tell us when Jeanne gets home, okay?” 

“Oh, okay. Let’s go, ‘Rina. I’m sure Beryl’s gonna wanna get ready for the beach tomorrow too.” Pearl takes the hint, cracking her neck a little as she gets up. She scoops up some of the shopping bags Freya and Jeanne brought in earlier today. “See y’all tomorrow.”

“Later.”

“Bye everyone! Jeanne, we’ll be outside!” Marina calls down the hallway, followed by Jeanne’s muffled ‘okay!’ . She picks up the rest of the shopping bags easily. The idol duo head out, giving the crew one last look before they go. 

Jeanne leaves the dressing room at last, wearing a jacket Cuttlefish knows for a fact is Freya’s. He’s almost amused as the girls murmur about it. 

“Oh, Akila. Help Jeanne get Freya situated,” he calls, pulling the IV drip out of Freya’s hand. “Jeanne, do you need any help?” 

“I just need to get her on my back, that is all.” 

“Got it.” Akila hoists up a still-sleeping Freya onto Jeanne’s back, careful to avoid the scarred area. “You got her? She’s not as heavy as I was expecting, huh…”

“I know, right? She is so light!” Jeanne nods, her arms securing Freya’s legs to keep her from falling. “I will go now. Please text me about the beach! I want to make sure we have the things we need.” 

“Got it! Be safe on your way home, Jeanne.” 

“Yeah, keep an eye out Eight.” 

“I will! See you tomorrow!” With that, Jeanne leaves with Freya on her back. 

Silence settles in. He doesn’t need to look to know the girls are staring at him worriedly. 

“Gramps?” Callie starts, giving him those puppy dog eyes she knows drive him nuts. 

“I’m fine,” he lies, carefully rising to his feet to get a fresh kettle of tea started. “Octavio’s gonna wake up any minute, so I’m gonna enjoy the silence as long as I can.” 

“You know you don’t have to be strong around us. We know this is hard,” Marie murmurs, her hand in Akila’s own. “It’s… hard for us, too.” 

Damn these two. I raised them too well. 

“Captain, I can handle the tea instead,” Akila offers, though it’s clear she just wants him to sit down and listen to his granddaughters. 

“It’s fine, I can handle it. Both the situation, and the tea, okay? You three are very sweet, but…” 

Akila rises from her seated position, already heading over to the stove. “Buuuut this is pretty stressful and you should take it easy. Go ahead, Captain. I’ve got this.” 

Well, that’s that, I guess. 

Defeated, Craig heads back to the low table. “Fine, fine. I’ll sit...” 

“Yaaaay,” his granddaughters cheer half heartedly, quickly scooting to give him a spot between them. As soon as he sits down, they immediately envelop him in a hug. 

Callie sniffles quietly. 

“You two, this is…” Craig sighs, hugging them back tightly. “This is a bit much, don’t you think?” 

“Shhhh, I need this hug right now,” Marie mumbles. 

“Me too,” Callie almost wails, burying her head into his shoulder. 

“Freya isn’t dying. Not on our watch. Okay?” Cuttlefish pats their heads like he would when they were little and crying after they got hurt. The memory makes him misty-eyed, but he’s trying to at least stay strong for them. They need him right now. “She’s… she’s not gonna die on us. She won’t. She’s a fighter, you know that.” 

“Yeah, but… this sanitizing thing, it’s scary…” Marie admits, sniffling softly. 

“It could’ve been you, Gramps. You said you were almost hit by the shot Tartar launched at you. It’s so-” 

“Terrifying.”  

“It is. I don’t want anyone to die. Not you, not Freya, not Marie, not Jeanne or the others.” 

“Me neither."

“It’s not going to happen. You hear me?” His arms tighten around his granddaughters, his head bowed. “We’re gonna find that cure, and we’re saving everyone we can with it. Especially Freya. She’s like a granddaughter to me, too. You know that.” 

The Squid Sisters mumble in response, nodding. Akila turns on the stove in the “kitchen,” awkwardly standing watch over the kettle. 

“Akila, you can come get a hug too,” he says, watching as her head rockets up. 

“Oh thank Cod. I didn’t wanna interrupt or intrude, so-” 

“Get over heeere,” Marie half wails, and Akila practically teleports over to them. Akila shifts into squid form to fit into the hug pile, squeezing in between Callie and Marie. 

“You know… I don’t know Freya as well as you three do, but I still feel like she’s a part of this family,” Akila admits softly, her squid form smushed into Marie’s face a little. “I want to help her too. I wanna get to know her, mess with her, have fun, all that stuff.” 

“Good, cause you’re helping us with this for sure,” Marie mumbles, blinking through lime colored tears. “Got it, Four?” 

“Of course. You already know I was in to help out, I’m not gonna stop anytime soon.”

“We’re gonna be fine. Okay? All of us are gonna be okay by the end of this, and we’ll get back to messing around.” Craig leans his head onto Callie’s, rubbing circles on her back as she cries. He ignores the tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he closes them, pulling everyone a little closer. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

It has to be. 

-🦑-

Freya’s head is swimming. She can barely hear voices, but there's a ringing in her head that doesn't seem to want to go away. The incessant throbbing forces her to a somewhat awake state of mind. 

Freya groans as she shifts, scooting her head. The familiar texture of her prized Prawnford blankets greet her fingers, relaxing her nerves. 

I'm home?

The shower is running. I'm home. I guess the gang brought me home after that. Freya leans a little more into her blankets, the warmth thankfully not sweltering.

She hears something crash in the kitchen. 

Huh? Freya rockets up in bed, her head absolutely hating the motion. The door to her room is closed, but she spots Jeanne's boots on the floor by it. 

If Jeanne's in the shower, then…

Intruder. 

Search and destroy. 

Freya reaches into her closet, pulling out an old metal bat she found dumpster diving once. The weathered surface of the bandages she wrapped around the grip of the bat feel right in her hand. Slowly, as to not alert whoever's inside, Freya opens the door. 

Voices are talking. Two of them. She crouches low to the ground, spotting them in the kitchen. One pink, one turquoise. Their faces are blurred out, but she can tell the turquoise one's taller than the pink one for sure. 

Destroy. 

The two of them are talking, but Freya can't hear over the haze in her head. The words are muddled and distorted, barely reaching her. Something about groceries. It's a wonder they haven't spotted her yet. Are they stupid or is she just that quiet? 

"Freya?" One of them says, turning towards her with what she thinks is surprise on their blurred face. "You're up!" 

Enemies. Destroy. What are you waiting for?

Huh? Wait, what's..?

"Woah, Frey’, where'd you get that? Should you be lugging that bat around when you're not feeling good?" The voices feel distorted, but the manner of speaking is so familiar. 

"Pearl, wait. Something's not right…" 

Pearl? 

Pearl Pearl Pearl Pearl Pearl Pearl Pearl Pearl Pearl 

Her head spikes in pain. The metal bat clatters out of her hand, bouncing on the carpeted floor. Freya groans as she presses a hand to her eye, stumbling back. 

De stroy. De stroy. Pe a rl 's not. Pearl is a fr- 

"Freya, are you okay?" She barely processes someone take her bat out of her reach, leaving her unarmed. Clawed hands grab her shoulders.

Claws octoling octarian assassin claws enemy destroy destroy DESTROY-

Her heart starts racing. A panicked noise catches in her throat as she slaps the hands away, someone gasping. "Get away from me. Get away. Get out! " 

"Freya, it's us!" 

I'll get them out of here myself.

Her fingers burn. Piercing pain shoots up her right arm, something not right. She bites back a scream, just trying to keep it together until the intruders leave. It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts-

"Freya." Jeanne's voice cuts through the haze. The ringing in her head ebbs away ever so slowly as a gentle hand rubs circles into her back. “Freya, it’s okay. It’s okay.” 

Almost like there were filters layered over her eye and ears, everything clears up slowly. The pain subsides, her arm slack as Jeanne comforts her. 

Off the Hook is in her house. Off the Hook. She almost beat up Off the Hook with an old metal bat. This is mortifying. Pearl and Marina watch her anxiously, Pearl holding said bat kind of protectively in her hands. 

"Freya? Are you okay?" Jeanne murmurs, slowing down. 

"I...I think so. I don't know what that was," Freya admits, holding a hand to her forehead. Her head hurts like hell. "Sorry, you two. I don't know what came over me."

Silence settles in.

"Yeah, no shit," Pearl blurts out, making Marina elbow her gently. "I mean- it's fine. It's kinda weird, but…" 

"It's okay. We accept your apology, Freya. We should apologize too, actually…" Marina says, twirling a tentacle. 

"Wait, we do?" 

"Yes, because we were looking through their things." 

“You were?! I only told you two to make yourselves comfortable!” Jeanne pouts, hitting Pearl and Marina with puppy dog eyes she knows Callie must have taught her at some point. Oh Cod, I don’t know if I can fight those puppy dog eyes on Jeanne. I can on Callie, but on Jeanne?

“Sorry… We just wanted to make sure you guys had everything you needed,” Pearl admits, looking down at her shoes. “Living on your own’s hard.” 

Freya sighs, unable to keep quiet. “It’s fine. You were just looking through our kitchen, anyway. It’s not like it’s top secret files or anything.” 

“Well, having the right tools for the kitchen is important! And also your stove is a little weird.”

“Yeah, it kinda stalls a bit when you try to light it…” Marina says. “Do you guys need a new model? I know a few interesting ones. Though, if you want to fix it I can think of a few repair methods.”

Were they looking through our stuff for our sake, or were they looking so they could make dinner..?  

“Well, if you guys are hungry, I can cook. I’ve been learning.” Freya stands, careful to do so slowly. “What time is it? I feel like eggs right now. I think maybe we should make omelettes. I dunno.” 

“It’s like, 11 pm, but sure.” Pearl smirks, making herself comfy on their couch. “Ough, we’re so totally going furniture shopping. You slept on this couch for like two days?” 

Jeanne nods, taking a seat at the table so Marina can sit with her girlfriend. “I asked Freya if she was going to sleep in the same bed, but she said she kicks in her sleep. Even now I do not think she has kicked me off the bed once!” 

“Aww, she’s just shy!” 

“I can hear you all talking about me,” Freya blurts out, her face orange as she lights the stove. Olive oil pours generously into the nonstick frying pan she bought a year ago specifically for making eggs, spreading across the surface as Freya tilts the pan to cover everything. 

“Hey, we’re just poking fun. Plus, are you gonna say no to free furniture?” Pearl grins, leaning into Marina. 

“I mean, I guess not… just as long as it isn’t tacky.” Freya hums a little as she gets a carton of eggs out of the fridge, cracking three into a bowl to whisk thoroughly. “This place is kinda barren as it is ‘cause I hate tacky furniture. It’s all the places close enough to my budget have.” 

“On Cod, we are gonna get you some fuckin’ good furniture, Frey’.” 

“If you come to my house with a gold toilet, I’m not friends with you anymore,” Freya half-jokes. 

“Wooooah! Harsh. It wasn’t even gonna be gold, I thought you were a silver kind of person…” 

Freya tunes her surroundings out as she cooks, troubling thoughts meeting her below the surface. Her hands keep moving, whisking eggs and smearing butter on pans. 

What… was all of that? It didn’t feel like I was thinking clearly. And my hand, it…  

She peeks at her hand, the same blue-green burn marks on her fingers. She’s starting to get tired of blue and green. 

I…

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m scared.

Cod, I’m terrified. What the fuck is going on with me?! I almost hurt Pearl and Marina. I got smeared across Area 01 of Octo Valley when I know I can make that Super Jump blindfolded. I keep getting migraines when I think about certain stuff, and I know things I shouldn’t. The name Mizuta Ahato keeps ringing in my head, I have nightmares about my roommate killing me, everyone looks at me like I’m a ticking time bomb, and I don’t know why. 

...Why? 

Oops. She ripped the omelette she was carefully rolling. Freya bites back a frustrated noise, sighing softly. She pours more egg over the part she fucked up, hoping it seals up the tear. 

...Why is this happening to me? And when is it going to stop?  

-🦑-

After a very late-night omelette dinner, Off the Hook goes on their merry way. The two idols make it very clear to Jeanne that she can sleep at their place if she ever feels like it - even if Jeanne refuses their offer. Freya doesn’t blame them, after the weird stunt she pulled. 

It’s still bugging her, too. Before she heads to bed, she puts the knife block above the refrigerator. Just in case, she tells herself. If I start sleepwalking again, I don’t want to put Jeanne in danger… 

Cod. Am I going to have to fucking childproof the house? 

Not willing to think on that, Freya takes a desperately needed shower in her shitty bathroom. The water feels almost too hot against her face, despite it being pushed all the way to the cold side. Either she’s sick, or the cold water isn’t working. Totally not sick. Nope. I'm the fucking pinnacle of health. Has to be the pipes.

Three groans as she scrubs at her face and neck, ignoring the odd sensation on her face. The bandages she’s had to take on and off have gotten tiring. If she could just kick this bug already, she’d love it! A lot! Sitting on her ass while the rest of the New Squidbeak Splatoon is out there saving lives has made her way too restless. Maybe she should’ve taken that Francesca chick’s offer to scrim. 

...What IS a scrim, anyway? Ugh, save the shower thoughts for later. Gotta get clean. 

The wound she got in her stupid Super Jump stunt seems better. It isn’t foaming blue ooze anymore, so that’s probably a good sign, right? Freya takes care with cleaning the area around it as well, not willing to get this injury infected too. 

Freya sighs as she wipes her forehead with an arm. It feels like she’s boiling alive. She hurries along her shower routine, not wanting to spend a moment longer in this state than she has to. As the water shuts off, Freya nearly slips on her discarded shirt on the floor. 

Ugh, I put this here so I WOULDN’T slip on the tile. Great. 

Her mood’s dropping quickly. Freya dries herself off and gets dressed in her nighttime clothes without any difficulty, thankfully. She looks at herself in the mirror, her tired eyes reflected back at her. 

Huh. Jeanne was right. Her mantle is getting discolored on the right side of her head. Is that new? She doesn’t recall messing with her hair color at all. Closest thing in recent memory was when she changed her mantle to lime green in Kamabo. 

Ugh, Kamabo. She’s getting tired of Kamabo. 

I should just get to bed. Today’s been too much. 

Tired and cranky, Freya heads to her room after she checks the front door for the trillionth time to make sure it’s locked. Walking into her room to see Jeanne in bed will probably never stop messing with her heart. 

Every time she’s gone to bed, it’s been while she’s been knocked out or battling a fever. This entire week she's been unconscious for at least 90% of night time. Living with someone when you’re passed the fuck out by the time night falls isn’t exactly something she should be getting used to.

Freya hesitantly approaches the bed, flicking off the light as she gets it together. Jeanne sits in bed, a big smile on her face as she scoots to give Freya her usual side. 

“Ready for bed?” Jeanne murmurs, the Octan accent in her voice never failing to make Freya’s heart skip a beat. Her posture is relaxed, like she’s done this tons of times. 

“Yeah. It’s a little weird, being actually conscious to take a shower and stuff. This whole time it feels like I’ve been just cruising, if that makes sense.”

“It does not! But I think I know what you mean. You feel weird because you are almost always asleep before you get home, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s. It’s whatever.” She climbs into bed, very hard to not make it obvious she’s incredibly shy. Subtlety, however, is not Freya’s strong point. Beating the shit out of the enemy is. She turns on her usual white noise playlist, hoping it’ll calm her down.

Jeanne smiles gently, beginning to scroll through social media. She hums the Calamari Inkantation softly to herself.

This whole time that they've been sleeping side by side, Freya has been mostly out. She hasn't really been thinking about what she's been doing, just drifting in and out of consciousness as usual. 

She doesn’t even remember the last time she had a sleepover. Callie and Marie have their usual self-care days hanging out either in their apartment or at her place, but before that she practically never had sleepovers. 

Mom never let anyone sleep over when Freya still lived under her roof. Sleeping side-by-side with other girls, let alone her peers or coworkers, felt so scary to her because of it. 

Thinking on it though, wouldn’t that have bugged her when she was having sleepovers with Callie and Marie? No, that’s not it. They’re her sisters, not some mysterious pretty octoling girl who’s suddenly moved in with her because she has nowhere to go. 

Speaking of mysterious and pretty octolings... She peeks at her roommate, her heart picking up speed as she spots Jeanne smile brilliantly at a picture of a sea slug dressed up like Judd. Her tentacles curl gently as she smiles to herself, unaware of the eyes on her.

Oh, Cod. Do... Do I like girls? I thought I didn't like anybody before. It never really crossed my mind. Oh Cod. Oh Cod, I think I like girls. 

Her face warms up as she stares, her fingers laced together atop her stomach. The breathable fabric of her shirt thankfully isn't making it too warm, though that might change. 

"Mm?" Jeanne hums, peeking at Freya. "Is something wrong?" 

"No, nothing. I just realized, we haven't really stayed up like this. In bed, I mean." Freya Rán, you're an idiot. "It's… kind of nice." 

Jeanne's eyes soften. She puts her phone down, moving onto her side so she can look Freya in the eye as she talks. "I understand what you mean." Her face tinges red. "It is nice. I like being able to do this." 

"Yeah…" Freya smiles, nervous as it is. "I hear a lot about people that live like this, that they cherish these quiet moments. It's like what you said this morning. I think… that I like it, when we get to be quiet like this. When we get to just be two girls living together, not people fighting for everyone's sake. You know?" 

"I do." Jeanne smiles gently, getting comfortable. "Two girls… just us." 

Us. 

The word feels so intimate. Before it used to scare her, but lately Freya has been absolutely messed up in terms of what she thought she was capable of in, well, everything. 

"Hey, Jeanne…" 

"Yes?" 

"This is gonna sound silly, but… can you hug me?" Freya asks, her voice soft. 

"It is not silly." Jeanne's arms wrap around her as they stay laying down, Freya's own curling around Jeanne. "Are you okay?"

"I’ve been feeling really scared lately. Like there's something on the horizon, just looming ahead of us. I'm not sure what it is, but… I want to cherish these quiet moments." Speaking her mind has never been easy. She's used to being the shoulder for everyone to cry on, not crying. It's only natural I ended up like this with that mentality. "I want to take it all in for what it's worth, so I don't have any regrets." 

Jeanne's arms tighten a little around her, but it feels so secure when she does. "Me too." Her voice feels almost sad. "Me too..." 

Exhaustion finally hits her. About fucking time, too. Her eye grows heavy at last. 

"Can we stay like this? Until we fall asleep? This… feels safe. I feel safe around you, Jeanne." 

"Of course, Freya," Jeanne murmurs, her voice a comforting rumble. "I am… glad you feel that way." 

"Thanks… I feel like I'm just spewing out whatever comes into my head at this rate, but I hope you get what I mean." Freya smiles softly, closing her eye. 

"I do. I understand what you are saying." Jeanne's voice feels so fond, so gentle. Is it selfish of her to want to stay like this forever?

"...Thanks again, Jeanne. For everything." 

"Bonajn soyjoine , Freya."