This is the first story in a quartet of Splatoon fanfics I am writing and takes place about two years before the events of the first Splatoon game. The second fanfic in this series, The Darkest Hour, will be put back up on fanfiction soon (it's a long story as to why it was taken down), perhaps even now depending on when you're reading this fic.
Disclaimer for the entire fanfic: I do not own or claim to own anything that officially belongs to Splatoon.
Ink was flying everywhere as the teenager twisted and twirled out from behind cover, snapping off shots as she did so. Her target was weaving about the area, inking the ground, the walls, anywhere he could see trying to lay down turf for him to retreat into. When his ink tank emptied out he shifted into a squid and dove into the ink, vanishing with nary a ripple.
"...Ninja squid, eh?" The girl smirked as she tossed a sprinkler over a short wall, letting the device get to work covering up the dark blue ink on the ground. Droplets sprayed all over the place, a few of them clinging to a certain section of ink that bubbled a bit at the contact. Noticing this, the girl let a predatory grin cross her face and she began charging up another shot on her kelp splatterscope.
Sensing that his cover had been blown the boy leaped out of the ink, gun blazing as he took out the sprinkler before charging the girl. He wove side to side, occasionally slipping into the ink and popping up in a random location. His custom-painted.52 gal deco gleamed in the artificial lighting as he briefly holstered it to throw out a seeker. The teen then dove back into the ink once more, swimming secretly towards the girl.
With a yell, he burst out behind her, finger wrapped around the trigger. Dark blue ink went flying through the air, striking the girl in the back. She only had enough time to turn around and snap off an already charged shot in his direction before a few more ink bullets made contact, splatting her. A little black squid ghost, slightly different from that of a normal inkling's, flew off towards the only respawn pad in the room, not looking back to see if the shot made contact. She knew it was good.
Sure enough, a split second later the black ink made contact, instantly splatting the other boy. His own ghost emerged from the small puddle of ink on the ground, spiraling up into the air before drifting towards the respawn pad as well…