Chapter - I
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When smoke rises from the seven rings,
The [sic] pinkfish will emerge from the sea,
devouring all the creatures of the land.
The Book of Madai, chapter 10, verse 10
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Tsuyu was the proudest Inkling in all of Inkopolis, because he had finally made it! After years of training and countless turf and rank battles, Tsuyu had finally reached the X rank - the highest rank an Inkling can climb.
Overjoyed, the young Inkling unfolded the letter he had received shortly after and read it again.
"Dear Tsuyu Aikawa (梅雨 相鮎),
the Inklings of the Grand Jury are pleased to welcome you to Rank X. On this solemn occasion, we would like to invite you to the upcoming meeting of X fighters and share our program with you. Also, you, along with some other X fighters, will go through an initiation ceremony so that we can officially welcome you as one of our own.
We look forward to seeing you there,
Grand Jury Chair, Numa Akagawa (沼 赤川)"
Tsuyu felt that an extremely goofy grin always seemed to grace his face ever since he received the letter and was on his way to the meeting. No one except the X-fighters and the Grand Jury know where these meetings take place, it's all always kept somewhat conspiratorial and secretive. If you're not an X-fighter, the whole thing is just none of your business.
The familiar smell of the salty sea drifted wistfully through the great city, as if it longed to engulf this part of the land as well. As much as Tsuyu liked the smell of the sea, he feared it just as much as any Inkling in his right mind. The salty sea air mixed with the smell of food being sold everywhere and ink splattered here and there by young Inklings for fun. Tsuyu was too nervous to eat anything. At home he had sat in front of his full refrigerator, his mother had offered to prepare his favorite breakfast, but Tsuyu had declined with thanks. From all the excitement, his stomach felt like someone had tied a knot in it.
Tsuyu kept following the directions, cars busily roaring past him and Inklings everywhere, sitting on benches or sidewalks, chatting and showing each other videos on their squidphones. Tsuyu would love to yell loudly in their faces that he had made it while they frittered away their day on social media, but he held back. Not yet.
Gradually, the buoyant gait gave way from Tsuyu's boneless legs and he faltered somewhat. The summer heat burned down on him unpleasantly and he sighed, stroking his hand over his sweaty forehead. Was he really in the right place? He carefully checked to make sure he hadn't lost his way or taken a wrong turn. He just couldn't be right, impossible.
Tsuyu was located in the Salmonid Quarter. Here live the so-called Salmon Runners, an awfully old, established clan of Inklings who are responsible for procuring Salmonid eggs and fearlessly pushing the Salmonids back into the salty waters when they try to come ashore. The Salmon Runners are an important part of society, without question, their work vital to the Inklings' very survival, but virtually no Inkling not born into this place becomes a Salmon Runner by choice! This job is literally hell! These people even own their own graveyard, and not entirely without reason. If the rumors Tsuyu had heard were true, most of the graves were empty. They say Salmonids tear Inklings to pieces when they get a hold of them.
Only a few former turf fighters hole up in the Salmonid Quarter and venture out into the rough seas. Tsuyu didn't know any Salmon Runners personally, but every once in a while he'd see them coming downtown; with that condescending look on their faces, the tired smiles they had especially for young precinct fighters honing their careers, and their flashy clothes - the orange dungarees, the green boots, and that odd cap they tend to tap proudly on. Tsuyu would get out of their way, and the Salmon Runners expect it. Their faces are all so much alike, they all prefer the bright orange for their tentacles and almost all of them have those piercing, blood red eyes that they target you with as if you were a Salmonid and not an Inkling. Eye color is one of the things an Inkling can't choose, and it was no secret that Salmon Runners keep to themselves. A conspiratorial community of "warriors" of a special kind, they have been serving society since before the Great Turf War and even long, long before that. Without understatement, the Salmon Runners form a culture all their own, with their own stores, their own equipment, their own social networks, and their own sense of humor, even their own proverbs and phrases that many Inklings barely understand.
And here he was, Tsuyu Aikawa, in the Salmonid district, standing on the side of the road, staring at the dark orange walls of the houses and studying the directions over and over again. Why on earth did the X-fighters want to meet here! What did the X-fighters have to do with the Salmon Runners?
Tsuyu had a terrible suspicion! What if he had been tricked? What if he had been sent a fake letter, what if the initiation ceremony consisted of him making a fool of himself here? Unhappy, Tsuyu chewed his lower lip, not knowing whether to go on or not, and if he didn't, what was he doing?
"Akagi, look!"
Tsuyu flinched violently. Too late, he had been seen. Well, that had only been a matter of time before a Salmon Runner took notice of him. After all, Tsuyu's clothes and presence here made him stand out like an Octorian in Inkopolis Square.
Two young Salmon Runners, about Tsuyu's age, strolled toward him in an emphatically casual manner, their mouths grinning wryly. Their hands were shoved into their bulging pants pockets and their red eyes analyzed Tsuyu from tentacle to toe.
One of the Salmon Runners had a tentacle hanging over the side of its face and was challengingly showing Tsuyu its pointed teeth.
"Where ye goin', turf fighter? Got lost?"
Tsuyu didn't know what to say and his insecurity visibly amused his counterpart.
"Is our little turf fighter scared? Did mommy and daddy say, ye're good for nuffin' but collecting eggs?" hissed the young Salmon Runner and squinted his eyes to threatening slits.
With his lips pressed together, Tsuyu shook his head vigorously. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation with a Salmon Runner, because physically he wouldn't stand a chance anyway, and certainly not against two.
The other Salmon Runner had spotted Tsuyu's letter, boxed his friend or relative against the side and pointed.
"What's that, Dotani?"
Before Tsuyu could even move a muscle, the Salmon Runner Dotani had snatched the letter from his fingers and was reading it at lightning speed. He raised his eyebrows and brushed the tentacle from his face that was hanging over one of his red eyes.
„X rank, yeah? Got this lately, yeah?"
Tsuyu hastily reached for his letter. "Yes, I did. That's mine, give it back!"
Dotani just clicked his tongue and actually did what Tsuyu asked. Puzzled, Tsuyu took his letter back and eyed the two Salmon Runners Akagi and Dotani suspiciously.
Dotani walked past Tsuyu, who looked confusedly after the Salmon Runner. What kind of action was that? After a few meters, Dotani turned around and waved his hand for Tsuyu to come closer.
"Coming? Did ye put down roots? Hopp, hopp, we're late, X-fighter. Don't have all day! They won't wait for ye!"
If there was one thing, besides the ever-same faces through years of intermarriage, it was the annoying dialect spoken by the Salmon Runners that made Tsuyu's skin tingle uncomfortably. Uncertainly, he followed his new companion, his head between his shoulders, hoping he wasn't making a terrible mistake.