Road to Splatsville

I wanted answers.

Ever since I woke up in that subway station to that oddly familiar song looping in my head, I wanted answers. However, I refused to let it hang on me. I learned to live in the moment because if I’d fallen down that rabbit hole of confusion, I likely would’ve died on that tarmac.

After reaching the surface, I still had mixed emotions, but I found myself focusing more on Inkling culture and starting over than figuring out where I came from and what led me here in the first place. I had already met countless Octolings, like Wyatt and Alaias, who was even a hybrid, and they somehow knew where they came from. They had childhoods and stories from school to reminisce about, whereas I was always empty-handed and absent-minded.

And yet, no one batted an eye.

Every Inkling was either so laid back or ignorant that they didn’t realize a new species had joined their society, so when I drew blanks when trying to introduce myself to people, no one found it weird.

It seemed your past didn’t matter—it was all about food, gear, and freshness. It was a ton of teenagers living by their own rules, or at least most of the adults were working a regular nine-to-five instead of covering a shipyard in ink.

Every night before bed, I would sift through my collection of mem cakes and journals of poetry, hoping that if I strained my brain enough, I’d find my answers. However, I started considering the possibility that Ravioli could help me.

We were strangers, and he effortlessly took me in despite knowing nothing about each other. And yet, I had always felt oddly drawn to him—even before we became best friends. I liked him so much that it was weird, although I couldn’t control the feelings that were mainly platonic until a few years ago. Given that he always had my back, I knew he could lend a hand even if he only knew as much as me.

He’d surely still be there for moral support.

Or…at least that’s what I imagined.

I should’ve been wary, given that he seemed to keep so many secrets. I had no proof, but I could tell something was up which drew me towards finding the truth anyway. I had no idea what to look for, but I couldn’t spend another year in the dark. I had already reached the surface, and my mind needed to see the sun too.

My roommate had been gone from our apartment for hours now. He claimed to be running errands but likely got distracted and ended up indulging in turf wars with another one of his crews. I glanced at the sunset beyond the patio as I cleaned up all our discarded clothes, trinkets, and garbage that had collected over the past week.

Rav could never clean up after himself, but since I liked housework, I had no problem with it. He was a giant ball of chaos, but life was never boring with him around.

I grabbed his collection of multicolored sneakers that crowded the front door and moved them back to our bedroom, trying to match the brands with the boxes. I opened the closet, only to get distracted by all the items in there seconds later since that was the one area neither of us bothered to tidy up consistently. However, the more I sat there comparing all our clothes, the more conflicted I felt about myself.

He had so much more than me—clothes, weapons, money, even regular experiences. Most of what was mine was his, yet he didn’t mind. But despite how much I loved him, I wanted to be my own person or at least remember a time when I was…myself.

When things were normal.

The song started playing in my head again.

In the square, I would hear countless other Octolings humming it too—Calamari Inkantation. Sometimes Ravioli would sing too, especially when doing chores or taking showers.

I felt like we understood each other way too well sometimes, or at least that’s what I started thinking recently. I sifted through the junk in the bottom of the closet in a huff. Maybe everything I had encountered was a clue, but I was too stupid to notice.

Despite the friends I had made in the Deepsea Metro and up in Inkopolis, I was alone inside my head and had yet to find a medical way to fix it. I was sick of it. I had to take matters into my own hands because nothing was gonna change if I kept sitting still. I could never be as laidback as an Inkling.

I began sorting through the items I had found, deciding which of my belongings I was dying to keep, and then a glint caught my eye. I moved my tentacles out of my face and leaned further into the closet, noticing the sun reflecting off something stuck under the floorboards. I grabbed a hanger from the corner and pried it up revealing a rugged, brown shoebox.

‘Stew’s Scraps. DO NOT TOSS.’

The handwriting was similar to Ravioli’s, including the note marking when it was last opened, but the smeary pen was illegible. I glanced behind me as if someone else was here to urge me to put it back where I found it and continue cleaning.

Alas, it was just me.

I crawled out of the closet and sat with my back to the bed, only to silently stare at the box for a few minutes. In all these years, I had never asked Ravioli about himself, probably because he never questioned me. It was an unspoken boundary—more for him than for me.

I had seen how he reacted when others approached him in uncertainty and how he’d always dodge the question. Either that or his answers differed from person to person.

But given how close we were, we might as well have been separated at birth, so if I were to figure something out, I doubt he’d dodge me in the same way. I never meant to keep my stories as an agent secret, but I’d tell him the truth if it were ever mentioned. It was only fair and at least by now, he hopefully trusted me in the same way.

We shared the same bed, for fuck’s sake.

I opened ‘Stew’s Scraps,’ expecting it to be keepsakes from an old friend given the name, though I was greatly mistaken.

Side-by-side at the top of the stack was a pair of circular glasses, which must have caught my eyes earlier, and an expired ID belonging to someone with the name ‘Stewart J. Larson.’ I picked up the card and examined it, and the closer I looked, the more I realized what I was seeing.

Ravioli wasn’t born ‘Ravioli.’ He was born ‘Stewart.’

From what I heard, you had to be at least sixteen to get an ID in Inkopolis, but this one didn’t scream “Inkopolis” at all. It was outdated, and from the expiration date, Rav looked to be around fourteen. Still, it was the same guy—he still had turquoise eyes and tentacles. However, he wore them long and apparently needed glasses to see since I noticed the lenses in the box had a horrifically strong prescription.

I pulled more things out of the box—hair ties, notebooks, faded photos, and even what appeared to be a torn-up business card. However, it was so scratched up that I couldn’t make out the name. I couldn’t make sense of what I'd found, but maybe Rav—er, Stewart, lived a double life just like me. Still, it was hard to believe we had that in common too.

I stared at one of his old photos.

The location was a mystery, but he was on a roof, flooded by the sun. His awful farmer’s tan was exposed since he wasn’t wearing a shirt under his overalls. Somehow, this photo was worsening the crush I had on him. He tried to look aloof, but his enormous glasses and uneven ponytail only made him look like a dork. I couldn’t help but imagine what it would’ve been like to meet him back then. Would we still have become friends?

Then again, I guess it also relied on how I would’ve been back then which…was still up to interpretation. However, the way he looked in the faded photo didn’t feel strange. Honestly, it felt as familiar as when I met him in that alleyway years ago.

I paused before frantically crawling over to the bed where my box of mem cakes was. They were all jammed into a Tupperware container, aside from my favorites, which had a separate box:

Forgotten Neighbor, DJ Octavio, Lost Soldier, Marina, Mr. Grizz, and Near-Sighted Inkling.

Aside from my favorites, I kept the others under the bed since I could make sense of them. Others I liked just because of my poems along with them—like Mr. Grizz. Back in the metro, I found a half-empty notebook where I started brainstorming and jotting down potential poems for them all. Once on the surface, I added corresponding drawings in case any got lost.

I held the photo up to the VIPs or…Very Important Mem Cakes.

Stewart looked a lot like the Near-Sighted Inkling, which only increased my heart rate as I remembered the poem for him.

A farmer boy down south, alone.

Lemons for sale, my crush unveiled—

I got digits! But had no phone…

Given the tan, barren background and clothing choice, maybe Stewart worked on a farm years ago. Still, my other lines didn’t add up, and if that was his previous home, how did he get here? What happened? Why did everything change? Who the hell is ‘Ravioli?’ What happened to Stewart?

Maybe the man in the photo was a different person altogether—perhaps an identical twin or a younger brother. The box of keepsakes is so vague that it could belong to an old friend or family member for all I know. Nothing says this can’t be a box of keepsakes from a relative who passed away.

I didn’t even know anything about his family to make a connection.

But the box itself didn’t matter—I had an ID and a Polaroid. The address didn’t ring a bell since it wasn’t from anywhere in the city, but his birthdate was the same. That, and his face.

Same eye color, tentacle color, nose, and smile. Sure, the Rav I had now looked different on top of being an adult, but the mem cake was the same as the boy in the photo.

That meant I met him before.

I could uncover my history if I learned about Rav and worked backward. Maybe I had even been to Inkopolis before since I couldn’t have mem cakes of things that weren’t ever memories to start with.

My headache worsened the longer I stared at the photo of him on the roof. I eventually glanced back into the box and checked a few others, but the one of him in the sun was perfect. For once in these five years after being Agent 8, I was making progress. I was finally moving in the right direction. I didn’t want to jump the gun by saying Rav was the key to everything, but I knew I needed him.

I say as if I didn’t need him before, but this was critical. My memories will only worsen as I age, and he’s the best person to help. If you thought about it, I had one mem cake fully figured out—that is, the ones that replicated real people. If I matched up the others, I’m sure everything would fall into place.

Somebody somewhere had to have answers.

“What…are you doing?”

I jumped, instantly dropping the items I held as I noticed Ravioli behind me. I was too immersed in whatever the hell this was to hear him come in. I felt like my anxiety wiped all the Inklish out of my brain.

“Dude.” He repeated, stepping further into our room where I attempted to shove the box under our bed, but my trajectory was off, and it slid into the middle of the floor.

“I-I was just, like, tidying up.” I reached towards the box with a forced smile. “Y’know, like I usually do.”

He squinted at me as I sat below him. “Like you usually do, huh?” His eyes drifted from the photograph between my fingers to the items I had mistakenly knocked towards him.

I had never seen such an expression on his face before.

“Ravi, what the fuck are you doing?”

“What do mean ‘what the fuck are you doing?’” I scoffed. “I normally organize stuff! I just took a little longer this time…you generally don’t care when I make a mess—what’s the deal?”

“Don’t play dumb—you know what the deal is!” He leaned over me, and despite all the terror I had gone through under Kamabo Co., this was somehow worse.

The Inkling lowered his voice, squatting beside me. “Don’t make me ask you again.”

For once, his face was uncomfortably close to mine. I don’t know why I was so scared. Technically, this was what I wanted—a chance to ask questions to the one person I trusted.

“I-I was cleaning out the closet.”

“And?”

But despite everything, I held my tongue. “And nothing else! What do you want?”

The older boy snatched the photo out of my hand. “You were snooping through my shit!” He raised his voice. “Stop playing dumb—it’s fucking obvious!”

“I didn’t mean to!” I tried to explain, but he cut me off.

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?!” Rav pointed to the dismantled floorboard in the closet. “It’s obvious you went way out of your way to do so!”

“I saw something shiny!”

He scoffed. “What are you, five?”

“S-Stop yelling at me!” I scrunched up my nose. “You never talk about yourself! Ever!” I tried to straighten my posture. “I didn’t want to bother you—I was trying to be considerate! I promise I wasn’t going to tell anyone else!”

“And I thought you were different.” He mumbled and returned to his feet.

I followed after him. “What are you talking about?”

He whipped around, and I staggered back. “You’re like everybody else!” He exclaimed, slowly approaching me until I was backed against the wall. “Sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong, asking questions that don’t concern them—all of it! Everything that makes me hate letting people in!”

“I wasn’t trying to be intrusive!” I explained anxiously. “I-It’s just—you’re my best friend, and yet I barely know anything about you!”

“So what? You know all you need to know! I don’t know jack about you either, but it’s not my business, so I never asked because, unlike some people, I don’t overstep boundaries!” He stuck his finger in my face.

“You never even said that was a boundary!” I shoved him back. “Hell, when I moved in, you never gave me any! How the hell was I supposed to know, huh?!”

“It was implied!”

“That’s stupid! It was never implied to me! I wouldn’t have minded telling you about myself because you’re the one person I trust to that degree! I thought you felt the same way!”

Rav scoffed. “You don’t need to know more about me than I’ve already given you these past few years! I don’t give a shit about people’s origin stories!”

“Yeah, well I do!”

“Who cares?! It doesn’t even matter since you have the memory of a fucking goldfish or something! If I asked you about your past, you wouldn’t even be able to tell me!”

I blinked back the tears in my eyes. “I have amnesia, you asshole!”

“Okay, and that’s exactly why sharing our backstories is pointless!” He turned to leave the room, but I grabbed his sleeve.

“I just wanted to get closer to you! You don’t understand!”

The Inkling forcefully pulled his arm back. “I’m fine with how we are!”

“Yeah, well, I’m not! I figured we could finally talk! I’ve always wanted to know, and if you were hesitant, I’d open up as a compromise. I like talking to you, okay? The more I learn about you, the more I’ll learn about myself!” I tried to explain, but Rav only seemed to get angrier. “I’ve always wanted to come clean!”

“Just shut up, Ravi! I don’t care! There’s nothing you can say to fix what you did right now!”

I clenched my fists. “Stewart, come on!”

The name had carelessly slipped out my mouth before I could stop it, but it was already too late. As if it were a reflex, the Inkling slapped me with full force, so much that my eyes watered and left my cheek with a burning sensation.

“Don’t fucking call me that!” He screamed, his voice echoing through the whole apartment as he held onto a look of panic I couldn’t even begin to explain. I froze in place, but as I slowly looked at him—my head still turned to the side—he seemed to realize what he had done.

If I could rely on anyone, I thought it would’ve been him. I thought he would have understood or at least tried to. And yet, I was alone.

Again.

I quickly broke into tears and slapped him back. “Don’t fucking touch me!!” I cried. “I thought you were on my side!”

“Ow! What the fuck—since when were there sides?!”

“I thought you could help me!” I shoved him again so he’d finally get out of my face, but that only made things worse. Even that slight movement managed to piss the boy off more, and he finally threw the first punch, which knocked me back into the wall.

I thought he was trying to make a point, but when I noticed him moving back in, I realized he was far gone. All I saw on his face was panic and anger. He didn’t care about what I had to say. Ravioli, my closest and kindest friend who prioritized making people smile, only wanted to fight. And not only did he want to fight, but he wanted to fight me.

I felt so worthless.

So ashamed.

Stupid, even, for thinking I’d ever figure myself out. I felt stupid for dreaming, stupid for writing those damn poems, hell—I felt stupid for thinking he could help me out of all people. I felt like I should’ve known I was making a mistake.

Is this what it would be like whenever I tried to move forward?

I had zero chance of making any progress, but Ravi was always there for everything else—teaching me about Inkopolis, how to fit in, the primary parts of his culture—everything. He was always a phone call away. I could even poke him awake in the middle of the night to ask him something dumb, and he would happily answer me.

I regained my balance and returned the hit, my brain distracted by my emotions instead of the military training I had experienced as a kid.

Was I stupid for trusting him? Even becoming friends with him?

Stupid for falling in love with him?

After constantly exchanging hooks and kicks, we went crashing to the floor, but I was able to pin him down.

“I thought you were my friend!” I cried as Rav tried to wiggle out from under me and flip me over.

“I am your friend! I’m just your friend with lots of boundaries who, until today, thought he had a friend who understood them!”

“If they were so important to you, why didn’t you tell me or write them down and stick them to the fucking refrigerator?!”

“I didn’t think it was necessary!” The Inkling hissed and kicked me in the stomach, breaking free as I hunched over, grabbing my gut.

“You were just—” He exhaled sharply and pushed me down, grabbing me by the collar. “You were so perfect, okay?! And then you had to go and fuck everything up!” He yelled and tried to keep hitting me, but I tried my best to block him.

“We could have avoided all of this if it weren’t for you!” The Inkling shouted as I wiggled back and stood up, despite how dizzy I felt.

“Me?! You’re seriously blaming this on me?!”

“Yes!”

“I wasn’t trying to start something like this, Rav, I mean it! I just wanted to get to know you better!” I yelled, backing up around the room as he kept approaching me. I was too distracted to focus on reading his movements to predict the next swing.

I just wanted him to listen.

“You’re the most important person in my life, okay?! And you’re the only person who can help me figure out my baggage—just let me talk to you!” I hiccupped. “That’s all I want, Rav! I just want to talk! Please!”

“What the fuck are you on about?!”

I raced behind him and grabbed my collection of mem cakes, shoving the one resembling the old photo in his face.

“O-Okay!” I huffed with my trembling hand barely able to hold the tiny Rav upright. “We know I have amnesia, but any of my distorted, foggy memories become these! No wonder waking up to your face every day gives me déjà vu...I’ve met you before!”

“No, you haven’t!”

“Yes, I have!” I tried to hand him the figure, but he frantically pulled his arms back. “I wouldn’t have a physical memory of you as a kid if I’d never seen you before!”

“No one fucking knew me as a kid! Especially not you!” He backed away, but I followed him, desperate. “Stop making up shit!”

“You’ve gotta believe me, Rav, please! You’ve gotta remember something!!” I hiccupped and wiped my face. “If I figure out where and when, maybe I’ll finally get my full picture!” I grabbed his hand, placing the mem cake in his palm. “Please help me,” I whispered shakily. “My amnesia is torture…”

The Inkling went quiet as he stared at the figure. However, he continued to hyperventilate, and unlike me, who had already been sobbing, he was on the verge of tears. The longer he held the cake, the shakier he became until he chucked it back at me, tensing up.

“I-I don’t want that! That’s not me!”

“What the—I literally have proof, you idiot!” I snapped.

“How am I the idiot?!” He scoffed, flicking me in the forehead. “You’re the one who’s not making any sense! You sound like you’re fuckin’ high! This isn’t my responsibility!” He mocked.

“Goddammit!” I shoved him onto the floor, and he scooted back as my temper heightened. “You want the whole story?! Fine! I woke up in a fucking metro station, okay?! That’s where it all started! That’s all I remember up until I met you! I was trapped underground for ages, and all I wanted was to see the sun, but my mission had me risking my life!”

I pulled off my Zekko hoodie and threw it into his lap, revealing the leather turtleneck underneath that I originally wore years ago. “I…I almost died countless times, Rav. Some corporation was trying to wipe out our society and would kidnap people and run tests to see if they were worthy enough to be slaughtered and reborn as pawns…”

The Inkling slowly returned to his feet, terrified.

“You have no idea of the shit I’ve gone through! All I am is a fucking test subject! You ever wondered why I cry at night? Why I have so many nightmares?!” I tried wiping my face, but the tears continued falling, making me sick to my stomach. “Why I wake you up constantly with my sobs?!”

“T-They took my memories, they took my sanity—you’re the only person who might be able to fix me.” I sobbed quietly. “I don’t wanna be a nobody anymore… I want the old me back—wherever he is. I thought if I finally told you, you would finally tell me about yourself. And we would be even.”

I smiled cautiously. “Right? We’re even now, right?”

He stayed quiet.

“Rav, please!” I cried. “The old you is the key to the old me! I need you!”

“N-No, you don’t.” He stared at the floor, muttering. “No one does.”

“God, Rav, just trust me! I need the old—”

“The old me is gone!” He shrieked. “The old you is lost in the sauce—well, fuck!” He shoved me. “So is mine! Find someone else!”

“Stewart!” I shouted. “Come on!” I pushed him back, but he caught himself after barely losing his balance and smacked me again.

“Stop!” He yelled as the tears started falling.

I grabbed his arm, more focused on making my point than the stinging pain on the left side of my face.

“Please don’t leave me like this...” My chest throbbed. “You know you can trust me!”

“Get off!”

“Please!”

“No! I can’t, I’m sorry! Don’t make me fucking think about that shit again!” He bawled. “I just wanna pretend it never happened—I don’t want anyone to know, no one needs to know!”

I held him tighter. “Know what?! Is this about me?”

“No! God!” He kept trying to lean back. “You’re not a part of this!”

“Then what happened?! Just tell me! I’m fucking drowning over here, Rav!”

“Stop! Let go of me!” He shook his arm. “Get off!!” He cried and flung his fist into my nose, instantly knocking me off him as I lost my balance and crashed onto the hardwood, banging my head on the corner of the dresser on the way down.

“Holy shit!! Oh my God, oh my God—are you okay?!” The Inkling darted over to my rescue as I lay there, sobbing.

He rolled me onto my back so he could see my face, and that was the first time during the entire altercation that he seemed like himself. He wanted to help. I could see the worry and guilt in his eyes, but that only made me queasier.

“Ravi, please say something!” He cried, tears falling from his face and merging with mine. He attempted to wipe the blood off one of my wounds, but it burned. I had no idea where I was bleeding from—everything felt warm, everything ached—I couldn’t bear listening to him anymore.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I wept softly, scrunching into a ball.

“Please, I’m so sorry!” The Inkling claimed and tried to hold me, but I instantly snatched his hand, digging my nails into his skin.

“No, you’re not. You don’t care about me. If you were sorry, you would’ve at least tried to understand.” I hissed. “If I mattered to you at all, you wouldn’t have taken it this far.”

“Ravi…” He tried to pull his arm back.

“Shut up. You’re selfish.” I held my head, laughing. “You know what? I am different. I’m a fucking Octarian.”

“A-A what?”

“The race that everyone disregards and treats like shit. I’m not exotic or some Inkling with funny hair. I’m an Octoling. Inklings don’t even teach you about us in school because we’re just that worthless.”

I closed my eyes as my head throbbed. “But hey, I guess that makes your actions towards me a bit more sensible, right? This is normal.”

“No…Ravi. I’m so sorry.” He whispered. “I didn’t know—I didn’t mean to. I thought we were the same. That’s…why I liked you so much. I had no idea.”

“Exactly!” I shot up. “Because you never bothered to ask!”

The sudden movement made me dizzy, and as my adrenaline faded, the pain multiplied. I laid back down, hiding my face as Rav sat beside me, silent.

What the hell was I supposed to do now?

It’s as if we had gone back to being strangers, but technically we were never strangers in the first place. This was uncharted territory, but despite everything, I still wanted to stay with him. Who cares if he dealt the damage? At the end of the day, I wanted him to hold me as I cried into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” The Inkling said softly, but hearing his voice made me tear up again, especially since after the voice crack, I could tell he started crying again. “I-I was scared a-and I’m so sorry…”

Those were the last words he uttered.

I heard him shuffling around me, and I tensed up, fearing another hit or him simply trying to clean off my gashes, but nothing came. After a while, I wiped my face and opened my eyes, only to realize he was no longer beside me.

I pulled myself off the ground, continuously calling his name as I staggered around the apartment, trying to convince myself that he was somewhere—anywhere.

Convince myself that I wasn’t alone again.

Though, the red hi-tops he always wore weren’t by the door and neither were the bags he came in with. I returned to our room but collapsed beside our bed, unable to pull myself up. However, all that remained on the floor was my mem cake of him and my hoodie.

The box was gone.

Despite how much the light hurt my eyes, I grabbed my phone and kept calling him even though he never answered. His contact photo was the last thing I remembered before my mind went blank, my tears subsided, and I passed out.

To my surprise, I didn’t wake up in a hospital, though I was still convinced that everything was a dream until the pain quickly resurfaced once I touched my face, mistakenly brushing against the scratch somewhere on my head. I flinched at the feeling, and then someone grabbed my wrist as I shielded my eyes from the light as I hadn’t completely regained consciousness.

“Eight, I know it hurts. Just let me clean it, and then I can get you a painkiller or something.”

I instantly mistook the voice for Ravioli’s and shot up off what I realized was the bathroom floor, but I was heavily mistaken. As if I hadn’t cried enough over him and my experiences in the metro, CQ sat in front of me in his suit and tie with various items from a first aid kit surrounding him.

“H-Holy shit—where did you come from?!” I shrieked, though the outburst immediately made my head throb.

“What do you mean—you invited me over. You said your roommate would likely be out late and we could watch a movie or something.” The older man proceeded to tend to my wounds, and I shut my eyes, trying to endure the pain.

“The door was already unlocked, so I let myself in when you didn’t answer, and then I found you bleeding on the floor. You seemed half awake and begged me to help you so…that’s what I’m doing.” He explained quietly. “You have a giant gash going through your right brow, and don’t even get me started on your nose.”

I flinched at his touch again as he put on a band-aid. “Oh my god, is it crooked?!”

“Calm down, it’s fine. It’s just very swollen.” He paused, grabbing more alcohol swabs. “And bloody.”

“Fuck…”

CQ continued to wipe my face clean as if I were a little kid, and though it was awkward, it felt nice to be pampered.

“I got a stain on your shirt…” I mumbled.

He glanced down. “It’s fine. Your well-being matters more to me than a button-down I have at least ten alternates of.”

I chuckled softly, slightly embarrassed. I didn’t know where to look, so I distracted myself by counting all the blue freckles on his face. I had completely forgotten that I had invited him over earlier in the week, but I was thankful. I didn’t wanna sit here in silence, staring at the door like a dog waiting for its owner to return. I needed a distraction.

Finally, the darker male finished up, and after putting everything away, he lifted my chin, seemingly examining other areas of my face.

“Who did this to you?”

“H-Huh?”

“You were bleeding and unconscious when I came in here. Did someone break in? Is that why the door was unlocked?” He asked with that same level of concern in his eyes that Rav had when he realized what he had done.

I rubbed my neck. “No, uh—d-don’t worry about it,” I whispered. “Let’s just watch TV. That’s what you came over here for, right?” I got to my feet after a bit of struggling, but CQ touched my shoulder as I entered the living room.

“Eight. Tell me what happened.”

I kept my back to him as the lump reformed in my throat. I didn’t want to think about it again. At least not now, but I couldn’t escape it. Every ache reminded me of the stupid fight, but no matter how hard I tried, I still couldn’t seem to hate him.

“I just…got in a small fight with Rav. It’s nothing.”

“What?! ‘Small’ my ass! He almost broke your nose!” He turned me around. “Where is he? Did this happen here?!”

I removed his hands. “It’s fine! Everything’s fine,” My voice cracked. “I don’t know where he is. I don’t know why he left or if he’s coming back—I don’t know anything. I’m such an idiot, CQ.” The tears started falling. “For some God-awful reason, I thought he could help me. I thought he could fix me, but now I’m lost. I don’t know him—I don’t even know myself. Even if he didn’t understand, I thought he would at least support me.”

The man looked terrified as if he wanted to help but didn’t know how. I don’t think I had ever cried around him before. Things were always happy or at least neutral with us, but better for him to know than someone who was also friends with Rav. This didn’t need to get spread around.

“I’ve lost myself completely,” I whispered.

“Hey, c’mon now, you know that’s not true. He’s not who made you who you are.” CQ tried to reassure me.

“Yes, he is! If it weren’t for him, I’d be alone in this city with no direction, probably still sleeping in an alley!” Despite my outburst, I quickly grabbed my head from the pain, lowering my volume afterward. “You don’t understand—I’m literally a nobody, CQ. I have no idea who I am…”

“Eight…”

“I don’t even know what my real name is. My memories are a fucking mess. I’m sure I’m more than an agent and that weird Octarian that’s cracked at riding grind rails in heels,” I smiled a little. “But I have no way to prove it and he…” I struggled to swallow as I staggered over to the kitchen counter, so I’d have something solid to lean against. “He was my only chance.”

CQ propped me back up and sighed, though he kept trying to raise my spirits. “Hey, I’m sure that’s not true. I know I don’t know you as well as your Inkopolis friends, but we can help you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

I hid my face in my hands as the older man cautiously guided me to the couch as my exhaustion overcame me. “Yeah, but I don’t have mem cakes of you or, I don’t know, Wyatt—it’s just of Rav! I know he’s important!”

“I won’t deny that, but if you’re that desperate to learn about yourself, you’ll have to use other resources.” He explained softly and examined my eyebrow for a few seconds as he stood in front of me. “I think you’ve been through enough today, just rest.” He awkwardly patted my head. “That goes for your mind, too.”

I looked up. “W-Wait, are you leaving? Please don’t leave, I-I know I’m being a pain in the ass but I don’t wanna be alone right now a-and—”

“Holy shit, Eight, take a deep breath!” CQ kneeled in front of me and grabbed my hands. “I’m not leaving! I’m not going anywhere…” He continued quietly. “I already had an opening in my schedule for you today and, well, even if I didn’t, I still wouldn’t leave you like this.”

I tried to pull back in fear of my insanely sweaty hands making him uncomfortable, but he didn’t seem to mind. When I finally stopped shaking, he returned to his feet and dug through his bags, handing me a painkiller and a juice box seconds later. I waited for his back to turn again before choking it down so he wouldn’t notice how terrible I was at swallowing pills, despite being an adult.

“Do…you just carry these around?” I asked awkwardly while wiping my mouth.

“Hm?” He glanced at me while placing his things by the foyer again. “Oh, yeah. I mean you would know, the constant screech of train rails eventually becomes unbearable.”

I chuckled softly, staring at the juice label while trying not to focus on how this was one of Rav’s favorite brands. It was impossible not to think about him. Half of his crap was still here. Hell, the whole apartment still smelled like him.

Honestly, it made me nauseous.

Originally, after a day of running around the city or getting my ass kicked at Tower Control, coming back home, laying beside him, and immediately being engulfed in his scent was relieving. It was almost a daily occurrence—how was I supposed to live without that? Yesterday we were practically joined at the hip, and now it’s like we were always strangers.

Nothing in common.

Nothing to talk about.

Nothing that created a reason for either of us to stick around anymore.

I noticed CQ digging around the kitchen, clearly preparing something, but merely the sound of him placing a pot on the stove made my ears ring, and it wouldn’t stop. I knew I was supposed to clear my head and just lie down and stop thinking, but everything became overwhelming. I attempted to flick off the lamp beside the couch, but my entire body throbbed, and I could barely sit up.

“Fuck…” I groaned “Do you have more of whatever you just gave me? How long until this shit kicks in?”

I watched as my friend cooked across the room from me. “Probably twenty or thirty minutes—just give it some time. Are you alright?”

I grabbed my head. “I-I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Shit,” The man cursed under his breath and turned off the fire, rushing over to me. “You probably have a concussion.”

I smirked as he turned off the lamp beside me. “Well, that’s how it all started. Y’know, crashing onto a tarmac and losing recollection of my entire life.” I chuckled. “I guess that’s how I’m going out.”

“Dude, don’t say that!” He rubbed his face. “You can’t even die from a concussion of this degree.”

I avoided his gaze as he grabbed me an empty trash can in case I threw up. He turned down all the lights aside from the few in the kitchen, and as he continued to cook, he kept glancing over to check on me. He gave me my pillows from my bed since it was easier for him to monitor me if I was in his eyesight. And, well, if I had to sleep in that bed alone, I likely wouldn’t sleep at all.

Even though I couldn’t recall the last time I had gone to the grocery store, CQ made me soup, and while I felt awful, I couldn’t help but scarf it down. I was freezing and never knew he was good at cooking.

I just wished it weren’t so awkward.

We were friends, sure, but we were always technically coworkers, and though I didn’t want to be alone, I was terrified of how he felt about this whole situation. He’s always working, but the moment he gets a break to chill out, he ends up being my nurse. I was afraid my constant fidgeting and mindless rambles were bothering him, but he never spoke up.

Still, I had been seconds from bawling my eyes out again for ages, and nothing could distract me long enough.

“Um, so do you still wanna watch that movie?” I glanced at CQ who sat beside me, seemingly waiting for his next instruction regarding my health.

He shrugged. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea right now. You should rest your eyes.”

“I-I just figured you were bored,” I reached over to grab my bowl from the coffee table. “You can leave now if you want. There’s probably not much else to do. I’m fine.”

CQ lifted the dish with one of his tentacles as I finished eating. “You’re shaking.”

I chuckled. “It’s fine.”

“Eight, no. The last thing you need is to spill half of this onto your lap.” He sighed. “Regardless of everything I’ve helped you with in the past hour, you keep trying to lie to me. You know I can see right through you. You’d be terrible at poker.” He chuckled.

The longer I stared at his half-smile, the more my hands shook, and eventually, I was crying again. I returned the bowl to the table as CQ struggled to comfort me again. Despite all the shit I had endured for ages underground, this somehow hurts more.

“Oh, Eight...” He muttered with a sigh. “Why are you crying?”

“Because he’s gone!”

“It’s only been—what? A few hours? I’m sure he just needed some fresh air.”

I sniffled as CQ handed me a tissue.

“Just breathe for a second and think. You get in a fight with your best friend. You say and do many things you regret, and can’t look them in the eye, so you leave before making things worse.” The older man rubbed circles on my back. “It’s obvious Rav is the bad guy here, and I’m sure he knows. That’s why he left. If I had to guess, he’s checking into a hotel for the night since he knows he can’t peacefully sleep beside you after what occurred.”

“B-But—”

He shushed me. “You talk about this man a lot. From what I’ve heard, he’d probably kill for you. I know his absence hurts, but what good would become of you two continuing to sit in this apartment and yell at each other?”

I stayed quiet, and he chuckled as my tears eventually subsided. “Exactly. It’s not that he left because he didn’t care—he left because he cared too much. It’s not like you witnessed him pack his bags and storm out the door.”

I let out a shaky sigh. “Y-Yeah...okay. You’re right.”

“I know you hate being alone. I know you’re scared. But you don’t need to freak out yet. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours.”

“I-I know but—”

“You miss him. I know.” CQ fiddled with the sleeve of my turtleneck and evened it out to removed a crease. “You gotta be rational, which I know is hard right now since you’re sad and hit your head really hard.”

I chuckled.

“He’s gone overnight? Fine. That gives you time to sleep on what happened and calm down. He doesn’t show up the next morning? Alright. You start asking around. Gone for a whole day or two? Now that’s when you freak out and file a missing person’s report.”

I groaned.

“But I’m sure it won’t come to that.” He finished quietly.

CQ’s words circled in my head as I eventually drifted off to sleep on the couch.

But he was wrong.

Stewart never showed.