Trust

Relationships are built on expectations of failure.
Family is made up of blood connections. These make no guarantee for compatibility.
Friendships come from shared interests. But interests wax and wane.
The only thing reliable in your life is the government.
Devote yourself to DJ Octavio.
It's the only security we have.

"So, it'll take me another day, but once I soundproof the spare room, we can use that for a recording studio, too," Marina says, waving her arm at the bare white walls. "So that's a bedroom for me, a really nice kitchen so I can cook all sorts of stuff, living room's set, I'll take care of the recording session, and if you insist on buying me stuff this time, you can outfit the third room so you can spend the night here for a change." Marina really, really wants Pearl to spend the night sometime.

Just so she can repay the favor, she tells herself.

Pearl glances around and sighs. "Fine, you win. I still say you could just stay with me."

Marina rolls her eyes. "We've talked about this. We've gotta at least try to keep the rumors away, and it's not like either of us can go on a date to dispel things." Not that there's a lot of Octolings for Marina to date; she saw one, in the crowd at the splatfest last week, and swears one was going into Grizzco as Marina left her last shift, but still. And dating an Inkling, without coming clean about who she is, is unimaginable.

"It looks a lot safer than your last place," Pearl says. "Working elevator, two security guards for every floor... will you teach me your passcode to punch in to get in the front door?"

"It's only supposed to be for people who live here," Marina replies automatically. "6286." Pearl's already typing it into her phone. "Your parents, your butler, your driver don't get to know that, got it? I've got the alert system to let my bodyguards know when I'll leave the building, and they'll wait outside."

"Fine." Pearl rolls her eyes and shoves her phone back in her pocket. "You're gonna shoo me out so you can get to bed early now, aren't you?"

"We start the tiebreaker tomorrow," says Marina. "Donnie is going to splat Raphael."

"In your dreams." Pearl stretches. "Still, a good night's sleep—and an afternoon nap—is probably a good plan. We'll drink more caffeine than anysquid needs after that. You're not gonna just keep unpacking, are you?"

Marina shakes her head. "Might try out the kitchen, though. See you at four tomorrow evening for costume and make-up?"

"And we'll start our intro concert at 5:30," Pearl says, bouncing on her toes. "There's no way they're expecting us to do a new song for a splatfest, not before it's out anywhere! It's gonna be fresh as all fuck!"

"Shark Bytes, Nasty Majesty, Acid Hues, and Muck Warfare," Marina runs through their set list. "We'll do Color Pulse the rest of the time, and Ebb and Flo before every break and for the ending. Rest your voice."

"I'm gonna bring the princess cannon this time," Pearl says. "Stash it behind your turntables and bring it out for the closer."

Marina laughs. "It's a bullhorn."

"Not after I bling it!"

Marina laughs again. "Please don't break anything this time. Like those windows during the action comedy splatfest. Or when we were performing on that boat. Or those speakers back when you were with the metal gang. Or-"

"You worry too much." Pearl elbows her. "I promise, Rina. It'll be fine."

Marina gives Pearl a hug and shoves her out the door. Pearl's laughing, too, so it's all good.

Marina stretches her arms overhead and checks the time. Seven o'clock. Plenty of time to cook a nice late supper and get a good night's rest. To check all her instruments again and gargle salt water and take a nap and everything else.

The timer dings an hour later, and she pulls out her baked potatoes stuffed with cheese and onions, spoons out clams fried with peas and mushrooms in teriyaki sauce, and her stomach grumbles at the smells. She made too much, enough for lunch tomorrow and leftovers after the Splatfest as well, which is just as well because she'll be exhausted-

There's a knock on her door.

Marina frowns, then forces herself to relax. This building is secure; no one is going to get in to hurt her here. It's probably one of her new neighbors. She's heard about this, from people in nicer neighborhoods: people who go to those who've just moved into the building and offer them cookies, or a card, or just a smile and greeting. That must be it.

Still, no use being careless. Marina leaves her plate on the table and looks through the peephole.

Marie Cuttlefish stands there, at her door.

No way.

Marie lives here?! Does Callie too? No, no they mustn't, there's no way the Squid Sisters live in such a modest building, but, but maybe, but, aaa! It's Marie!

Marina takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly. Like Pearl says: put away the fangirl for later. Marina undoes the chain, flips the lock, opens the door. "This is a nice surprise," she says, smiling. "I haven't seen you away from Callie since her return. Come on in."

Marie smiles back at her, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Well, I heard you'd moved into this building. I had to come see your new place, didn't I?" She walks past Marina and settles on the couch."It's much nicer than your old one."

Marie never saw her old one, but she supposes everyone knows the dump she used to live in. "So do you live here?" Marina asks, closing and locking the door again (instinct, second nature after everything from before). She twists her hands together. "I was just about to have supper; would you care to join me?"

"Thank you, but no. You may as well eat," says Marie, getting to her feet. "I'll join you at the table."

Despite Marie's protests, Marina makes sure she has a full glass of orange juice (no pulp) and strives to carry on a normal conversation, asking how Marie's parents are (fine), if she and Callie will be going solo or getting back together (together, definitely, but less intense so they can keep up their movie deals and other projects), and what Marina and Pearl plan to do for their two weeks off before the June splatfest (Go to the beach and climb more trails on Mount Nantai). It's easy talking to Marie, who responds to every question with a perfect answer, who speaks calmly and concisely as Marina finishes her meal and sets down her fork and knife.

That's the moment when Marie says, "I'm sorry to say this, but I did have a specific reason for seeking you out today, and it's not going to make either of us comfortable."

Marina blinks at her. "I'm sorry?"

Marie sighs, shakes her head, and reaches into a pocket. She pulls out a small case, about the size of her two hands, and opens it.

Hypnoshades gleam from the case.

Marina leaps backwards, knocking over the chair and is almost in the next room when Marie grabs her. "Calm down," Marie orders.

Marina smacks her, pulls away, and Marie releases her so suddenly she tumbles to the floor. Marie pins her there, knees on her legs, hands on her arms, and Marina's panic spikes. "I said calm. Down." Marie orders. "I know you know what those are. You're not in trouble."

"I'm not putting those on," Marina says, her hearts pounding and her breathing fast, twisting and writhing and trying to throw Marie off but Marie's even got two of her three useful tentacles under control, "and you're not putting them on me, I just got away, I—I'm not even sure I did get away but no, no, just—I swear if you try to put those on me I don't care if you're a Squid Sister I will—I don't know how they got to you but-"

Marie covers her mouth. "Take a deep breath," Marie says. "You're not putting those on. Your name is Marina Ida, awol Combat Engineer, octoling and high-ranking member of Octarian Society, but here in Inkopolis you're just Marina, news host and up and coming musician. You have nothing to fear from me."

Marina gasps through her nose, in, then out, several times, wiggling, struggling, working to free herself even as she tries to calm down. It's only then does she think, realize she could turn Octo—no, she'd be too slow with her stupid tentacle, and, and, and.

And how does Marie know that?

"I'll release you when you're calm," Marie says, and Marina heaves in another breath, lets it out, repeats. She tries to focus on that, but it doesn't help, because her breathing keeps hitching and her hearts keep pounding and she can't.

Marie begins to hum. Calamari Inkantation.

Marina joins in without thinking, her voice going up and down the notes, the high-pitched fast-paced song that promised freedom and hope and maybe, maybe delivered. And then Marie moves on to City of Color, and Marina goes along with her, her voice steadying and breathing calming with the slower sounds, the need to control herself, and by the time Marie's halfway through Tide Goes Out Marina's... maybe not calm, but closer than she thought she could be.

Marie uncovers her mouth. "Better?" Marie reaches into a pocket and pulls out a handkerchief, wipes beneath Marina's eyes; they're wet, and tears still leak from the corners, no matter how she tries to blink them away. "I apologize; there's really no good way to bring this sort of thing up."

"How do you know about it?" Marina asks.

Marie raises an eyebrow, still the picture of composure. "While I believe Agent Three was best known for being a menace before you left Octarian Society, I'm sure you were also aware of Agent Two." Marina's breath catches in her throat again. "I held you at charger point in an alley not long after the release of Ebb and Flow, before deciding you were harmless."

Holy shit.

"You?! That was you? Don't tell me—no, you and Callie do everything together, is she Agent One? Cod, you're not gonna splat me now, are you? Or-"

"I don't think that qualifies as calm," Marie covers Marina's mouth again. "Yes, I understand Octarian, though I have difficulty pronouncing it. No, I won't splat you, unless you're planning to tell people about this—and I have confidence you don't. I am currently unarmed. Callie is indeed Agent One; she went missing because she was kidnapped and made to work for Octarian Society via hypnoshades. We haven't done public performances, save for writing Fresh Start, because she's still highly unstable: unsure whether what she's seeing now is real or a further hallucination." Marie pauses and tips her head to one side. "I don't suppose you know how long that side effect lasts?"

Marina draws in a shaky breath and holds still. Releases it, draws another. Hums Color Pulse, lets the music (about ink, about differences, about competition and beauty and friendship) that'd be forbidden at home soothe her, until Marie uncovers her mouth. "I—I'm still not sure," Marina admits. "There are still times where I'm—I mean, it seems really unlikely they'd go this far, but I can't be sure."

"Lovely." Marie sighs. "Any way you can be sure?"

If she goes to Mount Nantai with Pearl. Every Octoling she knows has gone to Mount Nantai and walked that path and had the person they walked with balance on the log. It's part of Octarian society, a sequence programmed in and so inescapable that it's bound to happen. "I—I think so, at least for me. But I'm not ready to know this is fake. And if I say it out loud, they'll know what it is, and—and change it."

Marie raises an eyebrow. "Do it on your vacation. You deserve to know you're free. But in the meantime, the glasses have the side effect of making Callie keep putting them on. I need you to disable them."