After paying their share of the bill, Inkley and Jet left. They waved to their friends as they left, before setting on the path back to Jets. Inkley let out a shuddering breath as he finally let the weight of the day fall on him. His smile evaporated, replaced by a weary frown. He and Jet walked in silence for several minutes. Eventually, he felt something nudge his side.

"Real talk." Jet said, looking him in the eyes. "That Luma girl. Are you guys an item?"

Inkley sighed. "No." He snapped, his response more venomous than he had intended it to be. His shoulders slumped and he sighed again.

There was a moment of silence. "I really am sorry about all of this." Jet said, shaking her head. "It all went even worse than I thought it would have. Seriously." She looked away from Inkley. "Sorry. About makin' you look bad in front of a cute girl, and all." The heavy atmosphere fell away as Jet cracked a grin.

Inkley wanted to be mad at her, but he couldn't help but grin in return. "Shut up." He said, but both of them knew he didn't mean it.

"I know today sucked and all, but when you've hit rock bottom, there's only one way to go. Things will get better, don't worry." Jet told Inkley, giving him an encouraging slap on the shoulder for emphasis. "Mom won't mind if you stay an extra night. If you're anything like me, you probably just wanna chill and watch some TV."

"I need a shower." Inkley said. "I got ink in places ink doesn't belong today."

Jet laughed and shook her head. "Oh, that's gross. I don't need to hear that." She gave Inkley a light shove.

Inkley sighed again, and he felt all the tension flow out of his body with his breath. Nothing could change how awful the day had turned out, but it was all a distant memory now. Everything was going to be alright. He was going to be alright. Inkley stuffed both hands into his pockets as he and Jet walked back to her apartment. The day even had a sort of silver lining, maybe, Inkley thought. Luma was offering to train him. Luma! Just the thought sent shivers up Inkley's spine.

And then the trepidation hit him like a brick wall. Inkley never considered what might happen if he didn't meet her standards. The shiver of anticipation turned to one of dread as Inkley realized he was nowhere near Luma's level, even if it was his best day and her worst. Splat, she's gonna drop me like a sack of fish crap. I don't stand a chance. The dread built up within Inkley until all he could do was exhale to keep himself from breaking down on the spot. Jet either didn't notice or didn't mention Inkley's impromptu breathing exercises, and they returned to Jet's apartment in silence. As soon as Jet's door was opened, Inkley slid through and tossed his bag onto the floor.

"You still takin' that shower, Squirt?" Jet asked, closing and locking the door behind her.

"Yeah…" Inkley replied sullenly. "I need it."

Jet gave Inkley a nod and flopped down onto the couch, kicking her feet up onto the table and turning the TV on. Inkley dug out a clean outfit and headed to the bathroom. With the door closed behind him, Inkley slumped against it, and let his head fall forward. He exhaled, hung his clean clothes on the towel rack, and stripped, tossing his wadded, dirty clothing onto the floor. He started the shower, and out of curiosity, went to the mirror while he waited for the water to warm up. Flexing, Inkley wanted to tell himself that he saw more definition in his biceps than before, but wasn't quite sure. He was, however, sure that he was still incredibly sore, and he groaned as he let his arms down. After a moment, he went back to the shower, and stuck his arm in. That felt nice… Inkley stepped in and closed the curtain behind him. All the worries in the world were washed away by the hot water, and Inkley let his mind go blank, idly mumbling to himself as he washed. Inkley massaged his sore muscles and nearly all of the stress of the day melted away.

An indiscriminate amount of time passed, and, feeling satisfied with his cleanliness, Inkley stretched languidly as he shut the water off and stepped out into the bathroom. Snatching a towel hanging from the rack, Inkley took his time in drying himself off and dressing. He was in no rush right now. Standing in nothing but his boxers, Inkley wiped the fog from the mirror and looked at himself again. He stared into his reflection, and took a deep breath. In. Out.

"I'm going to be alright." He mumbled, and he felt more certain about it than he had before.

Inkley threw the rest of his clothes on, scooped up his dirty clothes from the floor, and walked back into the living. He stuffed his dirty clothes into his bag and let himself fall down onto the couch.

"Feeling better?" Jet asked after a moment.

"Yeah." Inkley replied, kicking his feet up onto the table and putting his arms behind his head. "A lot better."

They fell into a comfortable silence. A commercial for Krak-On brand gear had just wrapped up, and a behind-the-music documentary about the Squid Sisters came on, about the creative process they went through while making their latest album. Inkley tried to be interested in it, but found himself dozing. His head lolled back, and the channel changed suddenly. It was a sitcom about a turf war team that lived together in a large house. Inkley had seen some of the episodes, and followed along the best he could.

Some time passed, and Jet stood and stretched with a yawn. "Alright, kiddo. I'm gonna hit the hay. We gotta head out early so mom doesn't pitch a fit at me for kidnapping you."

"Alright, Inkley said. "Night."

"Night." Jet called back as she went to her door.

Inkley stood and trudged to turn the lights off. Laying down on the couch, he watched the TV from the corner of his eye. He drifted off to sleep not long after.


Inkley woke, and with a glance at the far wall, knew he had to get up. It was almost seven-thirty, and he'd have to be home by nine to assure his mother that Jet hadn't sold him at the Booyah Base. He stood with a groan, and stretched. He made his way to the kitchen to make himself a bowl of cereal, and realized that Jet still wasn't up.

"Jet!" Inkley called. "Wake up!"

"Ten more minutes!"

"Mom's gonna be mad!"

Inkley could hear Jet groan from where he was standing. He shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth and cocked an eyebrow as Jet's door opened. she stepped out, rubbing one eye, looking hastily dressed.

"Food." She said, trudging to the bathroom.

Inkley sighed, but fixed another bowl of cereal for Jet. She came out of the bathroom a minute later, and they ate in silence.

"Alright." Jet said as she finished. "Give me five minutes, get your crap, and we'll head out." And she went back into her room.

Inkley shrugged and finished his cereal, before going back to the couch. He pulled his bag over to his feet and went through it, making sure he had all of his things with him. He did, and so he spent the next few minutes dozing with his arms behind his head. Eventually, he felt a slap on his leg, and he opened his eyes to see a far more organized Jet looming over him.

"C'mon, let's head out." She said with a wave, moving towards the door. "Mom's probably miffed at us already."

Inkley stood and shouldered his bag while Jet turned off the TV. And they left.


They arrived home at eight forty-five. Inkley opened the door and strode inside.

"Mom?" he called tentatively.

A moment passed, and dread built within Inkley as he wondered if his mother had already left for work. And then she appeared in the kitchen doorway, and he breathed out in relief.

"Oh?" His mother said mischievously. "I thought you ran away."

Inkley's shoulders slumped, and he sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry, mom…"

"Inkley, there's a clean load of your laundry in the dryer. Be a dear take it up to your room?" His mother asked.

Inkley knew she was trying to get rid of him, but there was little to do about it. He shuffled past her, but stopped at the threshold of the laundry room.

"Mom, before you yell at Jet…" Inkley began, wringing his hands. "It was my fault we were late. We lost track of time yesterday, and I said you wouldn't mind if I stayed an extra night. Sorry. Don't be mad at Jet."

Inkley heard a sigh from behind him. "Dear, I'm not mad. Just… Worried. Call next time, okay?" she gave him a pat on the back. "Laundry."

Inkley nodded and dutifully did what he was told. He knew his mother and Jet would still have a talk, but he hoped that what he said would help keep Jet out of the fire. Inkley went up the stairs at a light trot, laundry-basket in his arms. He had to balance the basket on a leg to open his door, and once inside his room, he set the laundry basket down in the corner, put his bag in his closet, and threw himself down on his bed. He didn't even bother taking off his shoes, perfectly content to simply lie there for a while.

Eventually, the door opened. Inkley cracked an eye to peek at Jet as she stood in his doorway. He gave a halfhearted wave and groaned.

"Hey, Squirt. Glad to see you're feeling better." Jet said. She leaned on the doorframe. "I'm heading home. I'll see you later, yeah?"

Inkley rolled onto his back and sat up. He gave her a nod. "Yeah. See you."

Jet waved as she turned and disappeared. Inkley fell back onto his bed and closed his eyes. A nap sounded really good.

"I'm leaving for work, dear!"

"Bye mom!" Inkley called back, not bothering to move. A few moments later, he heard the door open and close.

Inkley sank further into his bed, and finally took that nap he had been waiting for.


Inkley rose from his bed, yawning and stretching lazily. Despite the grogginess that came with sleeping in the middle of the day, Inkley felt much better than before. He slid out of bed and stood, wobbling as the feeling returned to his legs. He trudged out of his room, down the stairs, and into the kitchen to get a drink. After downing two glasses of juice, Inkley felt even better. With a third glass in-hand, he returned to his room to waste time on the internet. And waste time he did. It started with music videos. And then videos of professional turf fighters doing amazing things. From there, Inkley found himself watching stupid videos about people doing stupid things and hurting themselves. At some point, he had switched over to online forums, where people talked about things ranging from the finer points of the use of the roller, to which Squid Sister was "better".

Until a ding from the computer drew Inkley's attention. An IM was waiting for him.

"Inkley." It read.

Inkley could do little but stare at it for a moment. "Yeah?"

"Meet me at the Plaza, at ten-thirty. Not eleven."

"Luma?"

"Duh. Remember, ten-thirty, not eleven."

"Why so early?"

"Training. Bring all your stuff."

Inkley leaned back in his chair, put his face in his hands, and sighed. This was going to be problematic. He had enough trouble sneaking out the first time around, but now he had to do it half an hour earlier? Inkley let his head roll back, and he breathed out. Ding. Inkley looked at the computer screen, and sighed again as he read that Luma had logged off.

With nothing better to do, Inkley turned his computer off, and went downstairs. He didn't quite know what he was doing, until he realized it was almost noon. He couldn't help but smile, and he made a casual lap around the house, checking to see if there was any laundry to do. there wasn't, and so he went into the kitchen and snatched a pack of kelp-cookies. And then he went into the living room, tossing the cookies down on the coffee table before walking to the window. He looked out into the street, and saw that it was almost completely empty. A child, just barely old enough to walk it seemed, played in the front yard of the house across the street, swinging a stick about animatedly. Inkley smiled at the child's means of entertaining herself, and flopped down on the couch. He turned the TV on, and flipped to his guilty pleasure channel.

"I friggin' love cartoons…"


Ten. I need to leave soon.

Inkley sighed. He had everything he would need in his bag. His mother was downstairs, in the living room, reading a novel. Inkley went down the stairs, and stood in the doorway. He was incredibly relieved to see that the curtains were closed.

"Mom?" Inkley called quietly.

His mother looked up from her novel and smiled at him. "What is it, dear?"

"I'm going to bed early."

She frowned worriedly at him. "Is something wrong, dear?"

"N-no, it's just…" Inkley paused. "It was a long weekend, and I'm kind of tired."

She nodded and smiled once more. "Alright, dear. I might call it an early night too, in that case. Good night, dear."

"Night, mom."

Inkley went back up to his room and closed the door behind him. He waited for a moment, and thought he heard a door close downstairs. He breathed out in relief, and examined his handiwork. From the doorway, the lump beneath the blankets certainly looked like a sleeping body. Inkley nodded, satisfied with it, and moved to the window. His bag was sitting below it, full with all his gear and a spare shirt, should he need it. A black hoodie sat on top of the bag, crumpled up. Inkley quickly tugged it on over his shoulders. He quietly opened the window and peered out into the street. It seemed to be empty. Inkley did exactly what he had before. He lowered his bag out the window, and dropped it onto the grass. Just as it hit dirt, however, a car pulled around the corner, the headlights stabbing accusingly at Inkley. He dropped to a knee, hiding behind the windowsill. The car carried on down the street, and disappeared into the night. Inkley peered back outside, wanting to be absolutely sure no one else was around. Satisfied, he tossed one leg over the windowsill, then the other, and dropped. He changed into a squid midair, landed, and quickly changed back.

With a hiss, he realized he hadn't put his hood up, and hurriedly did so. Another set of headlights came down the street, and Inkley dropped onto his stomach and pressed himself into the dirt as it passed. Huffing, he rose, shouldered his bag, and stealthily made off down the street, towards the train station. As before, it wasn't a particularly eventful walk, with the odd car or truck rolling down the street. Inkley kept his head forward to avoid any strange looks, and before he knew it, he was at the local train station. A train arrived just as Inkley walked into the station. More bodies exited it than Inkley would have expected, considering the time of night, but Inkley was the only one getting on. The car was, once again, almost empty, with only two other riders, one at the very front, the other at the very back.

Not one to break the system, Inkley sat in the very middle, and simply watched out the window as the landscape rolled by.

"Now stopping at Inkopolis Plaza station."

Inkley stood as the train came to a halt, and exited as the doors slid open. He put his hood down and walked to the center of the plaza, knowing well enough Luma would approach him eventually.

"Hey, kid." Called a familiar voice, and Inkley wasn't disappointed. "You're on time."

Inkley turned to where the voice had come from, and wasn't at all surprised when he saw Luma sitting on a bench, her gear bag beside her. She was wearing a white tee, with a black star across the chest, as well as her usual shorts and an orange cap that blended almost seamlessly with her tentacles.

"Hey." Inkley said, walking up to where she sat. "So… Training?"

Luma shrugged. "I lied about that. There's something I want to show you." With that, she stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

Luma led the way towards the Squid Sisters' studio. Inkley followed her quietly, and realized after a moment that there was something stuck on the second story window. They ascended the ramp, and Inkley saw it was a poster. It featured both of the Squid Sisters, posing while wearing an attractive ensemble of athletic clothing that matched both of their color-schemes. Callie was holding a shooter, while Marie was holding a charger. Inkley noticed, after a moment, that everything they were wearing or holding lacked a brand. Clever. Both of the Squid Sisters had occasionally splotches of ink on them, and the background, an indiscriminate brick alleyway, was also covered in ink. Below the Squid Sisters was a bold logo, written as if it were painted with a large brush. SPLATFEST, it read. Inkley's heart skipped a beat when he saw it.

"Splatfest…" Inkley breathed, his voice quiet and reverent.

Luma gave him a lopsided grin. "You excited too, huh?"

Inkley glanced at Luma for a minute, before turning back to the poster. "How could I not be? That's a huge deal!"

"Quiet down." Luma hissed. "I saw some dude put this up literally ten minutes ago."

Inkley nodded absently, and leaned closer to look read the date below the logo. His heart skipped another beat. "Holy crap, that's in, like, a month."

Luma nodded, her grin only growing. "I know, right? I mean, that's only the start of qualifiers, but still. Splatfest. Can't wait for the festival to get started."

Inkley spent a moment getting lost in memories of the Splatfest festival. The lights strung up all over Inkopolis, all the stalls, shops and carts that set up in the middle of Inkopolis Plaza, just for Splatfest, Callie and Marie's impromptu performances in the middle of the plaza… The thought alone of all these activities sent a shiver of delight up Inkley's spine. He recalled being there for one of those performances, several years ago. His mother had taken him into the plaza to buy a souvenir, when Callie appeared on the stage that had been set up, and randomly burst into song. The memory was exhilarating.

"So, yeah." Luma said eventually, breaking Inkley out of his trance. "I wanted you to see this. Because it's important, yeah? Inspiration to get better."

Inkley nodded absently. "Yeah… I guess."

Luma slid past Inkley and flicked his arm. "C'mon. Let's put our stuff away and get ready for the show."

With no reason to argue, Inkley followed after her, trotting down the ramp to catch up. They passed the Booyah Base, and Inkley slowed for a minute, to peer into the windows at the items on display. Everything looked so sleek, so fashionable, so fresh. Inkley inwardly sighed when he considered how unfresh he was. From what Jet had told him, Inkley had little doubt in his mind that the owners of the shops would turn their noses up at him the moment he walked in. Pushing those thoughts aside, Inkley shucked his bag and took out his shooter and its tank. Luma did likewise, and into the dumpster their bags went. And then they waited.

They didn't have to wait long. Blue appeared in the mouth of the alleyway, with the same two boys Inkley noticed hanging around him before at his heels. For the second time in as many days, Inkley saw Blue with a look of almost comical shock on his face. Once more, he shook it off quickly, replaced by the amiable smile he always wore.

"Hey!" Blue called, giving a short wave as he approached. "Didn't think anybody'd beat us here." He laughed and shrugged as he unslung his bag and tossed it into the dumpster. He unfolded his roller and put it over his shoulder. "Oh well." He looked directly at Inkley and nodded. "Glad to see you again. Though, the last time we met was really unexpected."

"Y-yeah," Inkley replied, looking down at the Junior in his hands. "I certainly didn't expect it either."

Blue looked very uncomfortable. "So, uh, about that turf war…"

"It was his first." Luma interjected, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. "Ever."

Momentary incomprehension crossed Blue's face. "What..?"

"Yeah." Luma said. "Green as the tentacles on his head. You ass."

Blue breathed out, appearing even more uncomfortable than before. "Damn, I didn't know that. That's rough, man. You guys got whooped."

Inkley sighed. He wasn't quite fond of how everyone kept reminding him of how awful that experience was. "Yeah. It sucked."

"I'm, uh, sorry, for what it's worth." Blue offered, shrugging weakly.

Inkley gave a half-hearted nod and looked to the side. "Yeah. Me too."

Blue and the two boys at his heels stayed no longer than they needed to, and quickly underground.

As soon as they went into the sewer, Luma let out a laugh.

"Oh, that was great." Luma said, shaking her head. "Priceless. Did you see the look on his face?"

Inkley cocked an eyebrow at Luma, and after a moment, she sighed. "You're no fun. Why do I keep you around?"

"'Cuz he's cute."

Both Inkley and Luma turned as Lilith sauntered into the alley.

Luma sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "You keep saying that." She said.

"So?" Lilith asked. She wore the same hoodie Inkley had last seen her in, though her hood was down, and she carried her charger in an elongated bag much like Jet's. Her tentacles were pink, and her eyes were a bright green.

Luma groaned. "Well, at least kids are starting to show up. Let's head down."

And, just like last time, Inkley swore that he was having the best time of his life.


Inkley wiped the last of the ink from his hoodie as he shouldered his bag. Luma walked backwards, towards the mouth of the alley, and looked at Inkley expectantly.

"You bring money?" She asked.

"Yeah." Inkley replied. "Snacks."

"Snacks." Luma echoed, laughing and turning around to walk normally. "You're catching on."

Luma led Inkley to the very same store they went to before. The same clerk was working, and she smiled knowingly as Luma and Inkley entered. As they approached the counter with their arms full of candy and soda, her smile only grew.

"A bit late out for two little squiddies like you, isn't it?" She asked.

"Probably." Luma answered.

Inkley frowned. This seems familiar.

"So, you gonna introduce your friend, Luma?" the clerk asked, leaning over the counter and smirking at Inkley. Her smirk seemed incredibly familiar.

"Probably not." Luma replied, giving a half-hearted shrug.

The clerk just laughed. "Have fun, squiddies." She said.

They left the store. Inkley waited a moment before asking the obvious question.

"Do you know her?"

Luma shrugged and took a swig of soda. "Probably."

Inkley sighed, and knew he probably wasn't going to get a better answer than that. He pondered a few things as he and Luma boarded the train.

"Can I ask a dumb question?" Inkley found himself asking.

Luma seemed to think about this for a minute, idly chewing her candy. "You can ask. I can't stop you. But I might not answer."

Inkley found her response far more deep than he would have expected, but shook it off. "Earlier, you asked why you kept me around, and, I've kind of been… Y'know. W-wondering the same thing. Why are you hanging out with… M-me?"

Luma thought about this too. For far longer than Inkley liked. "I saw you with your shooter, the day the entire plaza got painted. I thought, hey, this kid seems to know what's up."

When she didn't say anything more, Inkley couldn't help but respond. "But… You've seen that I… I don't know what's up."

"Yeah." Luma said, nodding. "And, I guess that's kinda why I keep you around, when I think about it. Since you don't know what's up, you look at things differently than everyone else."

Inkley knew it was dumb, but decided to press his luck. "So… When you said you were going to… train me..?"

"I meant it." Luma said immediately. "I wouldn't lie about that kind of thing. Turf war is a serious business." She looked up, and saw Inkley's questioning gaze. She sighed. "Potential. Everyone's got it. Even a green little squid like you. Especially a green little squid like you. Unrecognized potential is one of the biggest wastes. I've seen a ton of squids quit fightin' because they lost their first wars. It sucks when that happens. I lose a potential enemy. A challenge. The turf scene loses a potential champ. The squids who quit lose a whole lot of potential fun." She looked Inkley dead in the eyes. "Get it?"

Inkley had to think for a moment before he felt he truly got it. He gave her a nod. Strangely, her speech, which wasn't that reassuring, made Inkley feel immensely better about his place in the world.

Everything's gonna be okay.

"Besides that, you're the only kid I know who can fluster Blue that easily. That's pretty great, too. Anyone who can make him look like more of an ass is cool in my book."