hobbies

Wooden clacks from their bō staffs echoed through the apartment complex courtyard as the two octolings lunged at each other. A few passersby stopped to watch the show from a distance, but the two were fully absorbed in the movements of the other in sort of trance-like dance Yarrow appreciated so much when it came to martial arts.

Moss is a lot stronger than they’re given credit for, Yarrow thought as he braced himself after an aching attack to his side was dealt. Thankfully, they’d managed to acquire some armor so neither of them would end up splayed out unconscious for all the rest of the tenants to see, but the armor didn’t stop the force of the blows from shaking his core.

It wasn’t like him to be sustaining so much damage. Yarrow was very small — a trait that made him favor dodging over simply tanking hits. After a smooth hit from Moss struck his opposite flank, it was clear that something really wasn’t right. He’d been feeling off lately. He was fairly certain that Moss indulging him in a match was an attempt to cheer him up, but it was hard to feel better when being beaten down while he was already feeling insecure.

Yarrow at least felt lucky that he had someone willing to do this with him, especially with that person being his former team-leader when they were still octarian soldiers. Part of him was worried that when Moss surfaced before him, they’d would never want to spend time with a subordinate like him again. He was foolish to assume that Moss thought of him as a coworker rather than a dear friend, but then again he was finding out that he had a hard time assuming anyone thought of him as a friend.

The sentimental feeling was snatched away as Moss’s staff jabbed Yarrow square in the chest. It didn’t hurt too much with layers of padding, but it still stole the air from his lungs as he landed hard on his back.

He gasped for breath and held his pole above him defensively, but Moss expertly whacked it from his hands and brought the blunted end of their staff to rest inches away from Yarrow's throat. A sign of his defeat, and his death if this were the real thing.

"You're not focusing, Yarrow~" Despite making him land flat on his ass, Moss was still as cheery and kind as every. They knelt down to help him up, but Yarrow didn’t take the offer. He pushed himself to his feet with a petulant little pout.

"You know, you really have no business still being that strong when your new job has you sitting at a desk all day." Yarrow grumbled, clearly only in a worse mood than when they started. Moss just laughed dismissively at the backhanded compliment.

"Somethin’ on your mind distracting you?”

"...Yes.” Yarrow turned away to pick up his staff.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Moss asked carefully. They knew better than most people how to handle Yarrow’s temper, with the fact that he was now the infamously moody age of fourteen only making it a trickier minefield to navigate. "It's hard not to notice when someone as rambunctious as you are is feeling a little down."

The boy only pursed his lips, clearly not going to speak right away. Rather than press him more, Moss motioned for him to follow them back to a bench where they’d left their things. Yarrow shucked off some of the armored padding while Moss gathered their water bottles and stuck one in his hand. He was good about reminding others to take care of themselves, but he did need some help when it came to remembering to do the same.

"I'm thinking about… things." Yarrow started with a uncertain tone as he opened his water and took a long drink.

Moss nodded as they sat down on the bench in front of him, looking like they expected Yarrow to continue. It made him falter a little, but Moss had asked.

"I have something I want. I want to challenge Daiki-sensei. I want to find Fuyuko, or any of the other samurai students so I can test my strength!" Yarrow said with fiery conviction. Moss just nodded again. This was something they’d talked about at length several times already. "But, I… my goal doesn't feel relevant to my current situation."

That part was new. The older octoling rarely ever heard Yarrow being unsure anything. "Relevant how?"

"It's just that… my classmates are all preoccupied with things that are very much… surface things." The way he said 'surface things' made it sound like it left a weird taste in his mouth. "They like to goof off, and they're rather busy with... platonic and romantic relationships."

Moss couldn’t help but laugh, which just made Yarrow blush. The amusement was partially from his very ‘yarrow’ way of saying something so mundane, but also that those things weren’t necessarily only for surface dwellers.

"Teenagers are like that!" They said in an effort to comfort, but the pout on Yarrow’s face stayed.

"I don't have much interest in doing what they do. The only thing I have in common with anyone is being able to ink battle, but even then ink battle is always a temporary arrangement.” Yarrow’s shoulders drooped, and Moss did feel bad for him. This was all just a roundabout way of saying that he felt left out.

"Sooo do you want to goof off and have platonic and romantic relationships?” Moss parroted Yarrows earlier overly articulate wording just to tease him. Yarrow’s face immediately turned an embarrassed pink, much to Moss’s delight.

"I would like to start with just the platonic kind, thank you!” His voice cracked with shrillness.

“Starting with the platonic kind.” Moss waggled his eyebrows. Yarrow was fuming but they really couldn’t help but tease him when it was so easy. They only relented when Yarrow reared back a fist to deck them. Moss crossed their arms in front of them as a shield.

"Hey, hey! Don’t get all crusty about it! Besides, you already have some friends! You have Beetle, right? And you've spent some time with your classmates outside of school. Remember how you sent me a picture of those girls you did some Splatfest with?"

Yarrow lowered his fist, looking at it before crossing his arms over his chest. He realized he was being pretty crusty about it, but the whole thing was making him feel really self-conscious.

"Are they my friends?" The sincerity of the question made Moss’s heart hurt a little.

"Do you want them to be?" Moss asked, and it took a moment for the quiet answer.

"...Yes?"

"Do you get along with them?"

"I don't… know." Yarrow sighed heavily. "Beetle is like you. Everyone gets along with him. I enjoy babysitting for his family as well, but I wouldn't consider them ‘friends’ necessarily."

Moss hummed in understanding. As much as they both enjoyed the company of the Agent 4 that retrieved them, Beetle, his family, and everyone else involved felt more like ‘family friends’ than the sort of close friends Yarrow longed for.

"The girls I did Splatfest with… well, Meyer is alright. Her friends remind me of Clover, so I do not mind them by any means, but I already get enough of Clover as it is. And I think they only think of me as a tag-along.” Yarrow reached up to fidget with the thin strand of tentacle hanging in his face. "I also had dinner with some boys from school, but they were ridiculous. Very typical inklings. I'm afraid that I simply don't have a lot in common with my age group."

Moss struggled to find the right words to say. He was right. It’s not like there were a lot of other fourteen year-olds around that spent their childhoods being trained in body and mind to uphold ancient militaristic traditions. There was only one thing Moss could think to do, a piece of advice they’d gotten recently.

"Y'know what? I think you need a hobby!" Their enthusiasm was met with unimpressed confusion from Yarrow. "That's the best way to make friends, right? By having something you can do together or that you can talk about with kids your age.”

"Does this count?" Yarrow gestured to the bō staffs leaning up against the bench.

"Weapon arts definitely counts! But you would need to join a dojo again.” The idea made Yarrow visibly conflicted. Committing to a dojo that wasn’t the one he grew up in felt wrong.

"Perhaps, but that doesn't solve my current problem of not having anything in common with people. Other kids don’t do… samurai things.” The boy was started to sound more crestfallen than irritated, and Moss didn’t really like either.

"Is there anything else you like to do?" They tried, but Yarrow shook his head.

"I have never really done anything else."

That statement weighed heavily on both of them. The matter wasn’t just Yarrow being a bit out of touch with his classmates. It was that it was that his whole life until now had revolved around training under the Octo Samurai. Both to be an effective solider and to uphold a long tradition of justice and formality. Every part of Yarrow was shaped by it. The only people he felt comfortable socializing with were adults that could at least understand where he was coming from. A ‘gifted child’s curse’ in the worst way.

It made Moss feel very guilty as his former team leader, even if nothing that shaped either of them was their personal choice. The tall octoling stood from the bench, standing in front to place a hand on Yarrow's head and ruffle his thick hair. Yarrow looked up at them with searching eyes. Moss was still his leader in a lot of ways, just not the way they used to be.

Moss gave him a small smile, seeming to realize that too. "How about me and you try something new every weekend for a while? We'll definitely find something fun for you to do that’ll help you bridge the gap with your classmates.”

Yarrow returned the smile, feeling very thankful he had someone to guide him when he was lost.