Agent 8 is the first to wake up in the morning. Her wounds have healed somewhat, and she is now more than able to stretch and get up. Moving still hurts a great deal, but she is far from immobile.
She carefully shifts to a sitting position on the bed, and stares off into the distance. On the horizon, she notices large pieces of machinery going back and forth, working in tandem with one another, as well many cable cars moving up and down the wall of the ravine.
A way back home.
Although Eight is excited, she doesn't want to wake Agent Three up yet. She knows Three deserves the sleep after saving her, risking her life for her own. So she sits there, staring off towards what she hopes is salvation.
Waiting, waiting, for hours. Agent Eight knows that she is patient, but couldn't she be doing something more effective?
She doesn't want to be a burden anymore. She couldn't do anything to help her friend destroy that machine. So she would train. She decides that she would train until Agent Three woke, and impress her with how strong she had grown.
So she sets off with the Octoshot towards a building nearby with a large array of windows on the front. The windows' sheen would be enough to stop ink from clinging to it, allowing her to use them as reusable targets. As she walk over towards the building, she feels a burning sensation from her hand. She soon finds that gripping the Octoshot is difficult, as tightening her palm leads to further pain. Still, she can endure.
Once Eight finally reaches the front of the building, she takes her time to analyze its full structure. It has a strict pattern of three windows in a row, then four with slightly varying heights, then three again, forming 10 total floors. She can just barely reach the top with the Octoshot standing on the ground.
Her plan is to hit each window on a row before moving upwards to the next, until she has hit each window in each row, all without missing one shot. Although seemingly quite simple, she knows that it will be difficult with her injuries, but it is a good training exercise for aiming.
On her first try, she only gets to the third window on the first row before she misses. Then she tries again, failing once more on the first row. On her next attempt, she gets to the second row; then on the subsequent one, she messes up on the very first window. Eight continues trying, over and over, with little progress. At one point she reaches the third row, then loses it on the first window.
She is disappointed in her own abilities. Why can't she do it? It doesn't help that as she goes on, her arm only hurts more and more. Just squeezing the trigger is beginning to cause her pain. Yet she persists, adamant to try and succeed. She does it once more; still the third row. Then again, and again.
Pushing herself to be even half as good as she wants to be.
One more attempt. She readies herself before the building, getting into the perfect stance. She holds the Octoshot at her side, finger on the trigger. Then, she starts. Her aim is true on all the first windows, then all the windows on the second row, moving seamlessly between them and shooting right in the middle for each. She makes her way all the way to the final window on the fourth row, the farthest she has ever reached. She keeps going, determined, when she misses.
No, no, no, she thinks, this can't be it, she can't have ruined this. She keeps shooting at the window, over and over, but in her mind, the mistake can't be undone. She hits perfectly in the center but she keeps going, because this is something greater. In her most focused moment, she couldn't excel. Something always goes wrong with her. If she can't trust herself, who else could?
Then, when she pulls the trigger again, set to continue unleashing her anger upon the window, she feels a sharp, shooting pain in her wrist. She falls to her knees, dropping the Octoshot, and puts her hands up to her face. The pain is all throughout her body, almost electrifying. It slowly dissipates, but she doesn't want to stand up. She doesn't want to return to reality and face her own failures.
"Agent Eight? Are you ok?"
Eight turns around quickly and sees Three behind her, waving and hollering out at her. Eight gets up on her feet and walks slowly towards Three, grimacing at points from the pain in her legs.
"What happened? Was someone here? Why do you have the Octoshot?" questions Three. Eight simply signs out the word, "Train."
"You're training out here, so early in the morning?"
Eight nods.
"Why did you need to do that? You should be resting..."
Eight signs out "Sorry."
Three is surprised by this, quickly babbling out "No, no, I'm not mad! I was just worried for you. After yesterday, anything could happen!"
Eight signs out "Yesterday," "Sorry," and then "Why" and "Train."
Three worriedly asks her "Do you think I was disappointed in you yesterday?"
Eight responds with "No" and "Me."
Surprising Eight, and perhaps even Three herself, Agent Three quickly goes forward to hug Eight as soon as she finishes signing "Me," wrapping both arms around her torso and making sure not to hurt Eight's injured arms. Both of them immediately become flustered, but neither of them leave the hug.
"Eight… please don't be disappointed in yourself. You did everything you could, and sometimes you just need some help. That's why I'm here, and I always will be here. We're going to get you back to the surface no matter what." whispers Three into Eights ear
After what feels like minutes, they both leave the embrace, and Eight points towards the cable cars in the distance. "Do you feel fine enough to head over there?" asks Three, and Eight nods back. They begin walking over towards the horizon, Eight picking up the Octoshot as they pass it.
As they walk, Eight and Three stay glued together at each other's side, leaving no air between them. Both of them love being so close to one another.
Eight decides that she never wants to leave her friend's side, whether she is protecting Three or Three is protecting her. They'll be together forever. That's what friends are for, right?
Plus, the longer they stay together, the more chances she has to tell Three that she loves her.
