Splatoon: Faded Colors in the Water Below
"It will look like an accident."
The lone Inkling repeated this to himself for the umpteenth time. It didn't seem like a huge issue. In front of him was a large pool of water, Mahi Mahi Resort's pool in fact. He had to sneak in here, past security, past younger Inklings returning from their Splatfest battles, and it wasn't easy. Not by a long shot. Though he managed, and now he stood in front of the pool of crystalline water, no one else in sight, under a gray, cloudy sky, rain imminent. The Inkling was older now. His blue tentacles seemed duller and drab, a bland blue, his brown eyes scanning the pool with indifference clear on his tannish face. He wore a heavy coat, his arms slack in its pockets, dark pants and boots to match. Though, he didn't think it mattered at the moment. All he was focused on was him and the water. He took a step forward towards the pool, paused, and closed his eyes in thought.
It wasn't necessarily that he was under any heavy distress or had a huge death wish. He had seen it all in this city. Inkopolis wasn't naturally a normal place to begin with. Squid pop stars being one of them. There were lots of nice people, sights to see, things to try. That didn't dissuade him from what he was about to do though.
The Inkling took another step forward, sighing.
Ever since he had figured it out. Figured it ALL out. It started with a voice in his head. At first, the voice felt harmless. He had assumed it was a part of his conscious that projected itself. He went on living life, the voice following him around, through his ink based battles, through his adventures, through everything. In fact, it even helped him in bleak situations. After a while, when he had grown into a full fledged "adult", however, something changed. The voice disappeared.
The Inkling stood at the edge of the pool, staring up at the sky, taking in the clouds and the chill of the wind, hardly bothering to shiver.
The voice may have disappeared, but strange things happened in its stead. First, it was his vision.
The Inkling blinked, staring up at the wisps of...cloud.
Everything stopped looking like what they were "supposed" to. Ink wasn't ink. They were simply blotches of color meant to illuminate his barren world. His tentacles, appendages, were simply tools to which were used to keep living. Other people...they weren't people anymore. They were just entities in which to fill this empty landscape. Even now, the clouds he stared up at weren't clouds, they were atmospheric conditions designed to keep the world in check. Hardly that, even, just decorations in which to "immerse" himself.
The Inkling nearly slipped into the pool. He gasped, backed away, and took a deep breath.
"This is my own choice." He stated firmly, breathing in.
The pool made no reply. How could it? A seemingly inanimate object couldn't talk. No. But fish and other sentient beings could. Sentience. The Inkling knew that he had achieved much more than sentience. He had grown past firing ink and cheering for nonexistent victories. He had grown. Evolved beyond simple sentience.
The Inkling smirked.
Despite his ever "important" presence in his world, the world evolved, excluding the need for him. He had grown past his limits of adventure, the society of his world wouldn't allow it. Once older, you either apply for a new job or assist the younger in their own fantasies of Turf War battles. Only the professionals could make it in leagues of their own, where fans and budding young Inklings looked up to them, wanting to be like the ones so successful. Funny enough, this Inkling was one of, if not the only one, who was left in the dust.
The Inkling looked to his left and his right. Still, no one's around.
While his friends, his companions, the people he grew up with achieved goals he could only dream of, he was left behind. He couldn't play well enough to be considered a "top player". His work ethics were a lot to be desired. No one else could view his views like he did. He was cast away silently, society slowly forgetting him. Sad, considering his merit of truth.
He stared down at the water, then took his arm, dipping it in. It stung. At least, it should've if it, or he, actually existed.
He knew. The voice wasn't just an illusion or a fever dream. He and the others, they were all created for a single purpose. A single, single purpose, of being entertainment. Whether it be for the marvels of those outside, who viewed them as wonderful creations, or simply to relax and play in their world. Their imagination world that didn't exist. The Inkling knew now, after just a few years, that his existence meant nothing. A simple spur of creativity, maybe, but nothing more. Soon, he and so many others would fade into obscurity, or just remain a happy memory. He knew. They didn't. They went on with their lives, but he didn't. At least, he didn't want to anymore.
That's why he was here. Going through all the trouble of sneaking towards a pool of water. No one would understand. They couldn't understand. And he was fine with that, they shouldn't understand, for the better, for their own sake. He took some water, splashing it on his face. It stung, but it didn't do anything. The only solution for his problem, he believed, would be to sink to the bottom, fade away with the water. So he took another step forward.
"...You're still going through with this?"
The Inkling flinched, turning around. An almost mirror image of himself stood back by a beach umbrella. Unlike him however, this Inkling wore brighter, cleaner clothing, a blue casual coat and shoes; he looked more clean cut, and had a clearer expression on his face. Worry.
All he could see was another entity the world bestowed him.
"I'm surprised that you didn't send an agent or anything. Interesting." The Inkling standing by the water chuckled.
"I don't think they'd be able to convince you to stop." The Inkling standing by the umbrella stared back at him.
The silence that followed was accompanied with the gentle swishing of water as well as the breeze of wind.
"You have a family, don't you?" The Inkling standing by the pool asked. "What would they think if they found out that you've been chasing after your 'delusional' friend on the verge of ending it all?"
The umbrella Inkling flinched. "What are you saying? You're part of my family. They...they care about you too."
The pool Inkling smirked. "I'm sure they do. You know, you made a good choice marrying her. Seems like a nice person."
"...She worries about you the most. She thinks of you as a real brother...like I do." The umbrella Inkling said.
The pool Inkling closed his eyes. "This writing…"
The umbrella Inkling frowned. "Why? ...Why do you insist on dying? Please, I can help, I-"
"You're very successful, you know? You've made millions. Mr. Swirl Ink. over here." The Inkling by the pool smiled.
"Money can't make me- Or the others happy. We need you back in our lives." The Inkling under the umbrella said, taking a step forward.
The Inkling by the pool took a step back, making the one in the shade of the umbrella flinch.
"...Brother, I appreciate your help." The Inkling by the pool smiled. "I really do. But I just can't see what you can do for me anymore. I've simply evolved past our adventures of yesteryear. You might think there's some hope for me..."
The Inkling leaned towards the water. He grinned.
"...I just hope you'll retain that optimism after I'm gone." The Inkling said, dropping into the water.
The Inkling closed his eyes, preparing himself for the chill of the water to envelop him. He continued to wait, steeling himself for what was about to happen. He heard a gust of wind, and the light yet quick sound of footsteps. After a moment, he realized he was still suspended over the water. He took a look back, where his brother held him, having wrapped his tentacles and arms around him.
"...You've grown swift." The Inkling suspended above the pool commented.
"Stop it! Just stop it, please!" The Inkling holding him cried out. "Why do you have to throw away your life like this?! Are you that selfish?!"
"...Selfish." The other Inkling muttered.
The Inkling holding the other pulled him back, propelling them away from the pool, crashing on the ground below. The two of them stared at each other, before the "umbrella" Inkling hugged the other, blue dripping down his face, spilling onto the floor below.
"Why…! After all those years...why would you want to end your life like that with so many other people looking out for you?!" The "umbrella" Inkling cried.
The "pool" Inkling closed his eyes. "My story's end is inevitable. I've seen it. If you still consider me your brother-"
"I DO consider you my brother, and I won't let you give up your life so carelessly!" The other cried out.
"..." The other Inkling remained silent.
"You were never like this when you were younger! What changed? Why?"
The two Inklings laid on the ground, the sound of the wind blowing by. Suddenly, the "pool" Inkling started to smile. His smile grew broader, until he began to laugh. The laugh was interrupted by a fist launched firmly in the face.
"How can you laugh at a time like this?!" The "umbrella" Inkling asked, taking his fist back swiftly.
Despite his new bruise on his face, the "pool" Inkling smiled. He shrugged off the extremely smarting pain. "Still ever passionate. Strong and filled with perseverance as ever."
The other Inkling stared at his brother incredulously as he got to his feet.
"Brother. I have to thank you." The "pool" Inkling told him, offering a hand to him.
The Inkling on the ground took his hand, getting to his feet.
"I was worried that you had lost your touch. Nevertheless, you caught me before I began to drown. Just like so many years ago." The "pool" Inkling smiled.
"...W-What?!" The "umbrella" Inkling gasped.
"With you around, I don't think I can end it all just yet." The "pool" Inkling frowned, adjusting his coat. "The world seems just a little less gray with you around."
"S-So, you're not-"
"Not right now." The Inkling said, glaring at his brother. "You have to understand though, my time will come soon. I can't stay forever."
The "umbrella" Inkling frowned, nodding, tears still dripping off his face.
"Dry your tears, brother. I'm not finished." The "pool" Inkling commanded, personally taking his hand and wiping away the blue. "As long as I'm still alive on this earth, I'll still be sure to make it as least miserable as possible for you and your family."
"D-Does that mean that you're staying?" The Inkling asked, gawking at his brother teary eyed.
"For as long as the breath in my body wills it." He replied.
He then felt himself getting wrapped with tentacles and arms, hugged tightly. The feeling of wetness on his shoulder meant that his brother was crying again.
"...I'm still surprised you had the emotion in you." He smirked.
His brother broke the hug quickly, staring at him with a cross. "Me?! I'm crying my eyes out here!"
He smiled. "Of course you do. You always have, Sharq. Not necessarily you..."
Sharq couldn't help but beam, his tears letting up. "Splin, if you scare me like that again-"
"You'll beat the ink out of me?" Splin rolled his eyes. "Saw that coming from a mile away. I'll be sure to dodge all of your attacks, elder brother."
Sharq smiled, wiping away at his eyes. "W-Whatever!"
Sharq wrapped his left arm around his brother, pulling him away from the pool. Splin's smile faltered ever so slightly as he looked back at the pool, the water beginning to shimmer slightly.
"...Strange how things pan out in this world." Splin muttered, Sharq too busy smiling to hear him.
Indeed.
Splin smiled. "I'm glad you agree, voice."
The two brothers walked away from the pool. As they did so, Sharq reached into his own coat pockets, taking out two pieces of headgear.
"...You've kept these after all of these long years?" Splin asked curiously.
"Couldn't bring myself to get rid of them…" Sharq sighed.
Splin gently reached for one of them, taking the scuffed blue pair of Designer Headphones, slinging them so that they snugly fit across his head, the brother adjust them with a flick of his hand.
"...Still fits." Splin remarked.
Sharq stared down at the Takoroka Mesh cap in his hand, its black logo somewhat faded. He took it, and began wearing it on his head.
"Mine too." Sharq smiled. "I suppose we're still the same goofballs we were before, huh Splin?"
Splin stared up at the sky. The clouds were parting, leaving a gentle yet illuminating light onto Inkopolis. Perfect for an adventure.
"...I suppose we are." Splin remarked.
AN: Sorry, I just had a really strange burst of theoretical fourth wall breaks and their consequences. After all, prolonged exposure to fourth wall breaks can really hurt someone's head. Apologies to those out there who don't understand this story. Which is probably everyone, heh. Sorry, had to get this off my chest.
Well, now that I've given something to chew on, I suppose I should take my leave. This is ThePizzaLovingTurtle, off to watch some Jojo's Bizarre Adventure, see ya.