Inigo's PoV

Upon opening the door to his house, a bag of flour fell onto him, showering him with white powder. He wiped it off his face to see his sister standing in the hallway, a wide smile on her face.

"Guess who's here!" she proclaimed.

"You," he said, unamused.

"That's not all..." She looked off to her side, and a fair-skinned inkling around his sister's age stepped up next to her. His azure hair was styled into a side cut, contrasting his bright orange eyes. "My boyfriend's here!" she announced at last.

"Heya," he greeted. "Nice to meet cha. You're Inigo, right?"

"Yeah," he confirmed. "And you are...?"

"Dawson," he replied. "Ophelia has told me a lot about ya."

"We were watching a movie before you got here," she continued. "Wanna join us?"

"Not if you want flour on the couch," Inigo rejected, his scowl only growing. "And you better clean this up before Mom and Dad get home. They're gonna lose it if they see the doorway like this."

Ophelia shook her head. "Nah... You can do it!"

"Seriously?" Sighing, he threw his backpack onto the ground, took his shoes off, and started heading to the bathroom. "I'm taking a shower." Just before he entered, he glared over at his sister. "You better start working on it!"

She giggled. "We'll see."

"Or maybe we'll get so caught up in this movie that we just don't do it," Dawson jested. "See you in ten minutes."

He groaned. "Can you at least get me something to wear?"

"That, I can do," Ophelia accepted. She ran up the stairs, and when she returned, she held a folded pile of clothes. They entered the bathroom, and she set it on the counter of the sink. "There. Happy now?"

"Yes. Now, get on it."

"Alright, alright!" She held her hands up, and once she stepped out of the bathroom, Inigo slammed the door shut.

He undressed himself and undid his ponytail before turning on the faucet, bright blue ink pouring out of the showerhead. Changing his ink color, he stepped inside and washed the flour off of him. A few minutes later, he stepped out and dried himself with a tower, feeling refreshed as a minty scent clung to his body. He put on the clothes Ophelia had gotten for him, consisting of underwear, shorts, and an oversized Mister Shrug tee. He tied his hairband around his wrist and exited the bathroom to see the couple wiping the doorway clean. Smiling, he grabbed a laundry basket and put his dirtied clothes inside before returning it to the laundry room. Someone could wash it later.

Upon returning, he approached the couple, crossing his arms with a smirk. "So now you're doing it."

"You did have a good point," Ophelia noted. "I don't wanna get in trouble while Dawson's here."

His eyes drifted over to the older inkling. "Have my parents met you yet?"

"No, we've only been dating for a few months," he explained. "This is the first time I've been over here, actually."

He blinked, surprised. "A few months? That's rare."

"I know, Inigo, I date a lot of people," Ophelia butted in. "But me and Dawson just clicked, y'know? I can see this one going for a long time, I swear."

"Uh huh. We'll see about that."

"Oh, whatever," Dawson groaned. "Let's just keep cleaning."

As they continued to clean up the flour, Inigo walked over to the TV and picked up the DVD case they had left out. From the style of clothing the inklings on the cover wore, he figured it was an older movie, and the quality of the movie on the screen proved it. The scene it stopped on featured an inkling woman with pink hair tied up in a bun pointing a gun at the screen, her expression determined as a lollipop stick hung out of her mouth. From the numerous warnings on the back of the DVD case, he figured that he probably shouldn't watch it. It wouldn't stop him from trying, though.

"We can watch a different movie," Ophelia called from the doorway. "I think you're too young for the one we're watching right now."

"I don't know, stopping in the middle of a movie isn't fresh at all," Dawson argued. "When you start a movie, you gotta see it through to the end."

"I'm almost 18," Inigo argued. "Surely I can watch it!"

"Er, no you don't," she countered. "Trust me, you don't want to be watching this."

As grating Ophelia tended to be, she did have a point. "If you say so," he conceded. "I'll just, read a book or something."

"What, not even go out for turf war?" Dawson commented. "I'm surprised."

He rose from the couch and walked over to face the couple, gesturing to his clothes. "Not like this!"

"Eh, I've turfed in less," he said with a shrug. "Not legally, but I have."

Inigo sighed. "Whatever you say."

He turned around and walked up to his room, closing his door before examining his bookshelf. He grabbed a romance novel he hadn't read in a while and climbed onto his bed, opening it up to the first page. He always liked rereading things—it helped refresh his memory on plots, and many times he picked up details he missed on earlier reads, too.

He didn't know how much time had passed when he heard a knock at his door. He folded the corner of the page and set the book down, walking up to the door and opening it. His mother stood in front of him, having changed into a t-shirt and jeans.

"Dinner's ready," she informed. "Could you change into something nicer, though? I don't want you embarrassing yourself in front of guests."

"Is it just Ophelia's boyfriend?" he asked. "He's already seen me like this; he doesn't care."

His mom's face fell. "Oh." She stepped out of the way. "Come on down, then."

He nodded, and together, they started to descend the stairway. "What's for dinner today?"

"Shrimp fried rice. Dawson wanted to make it. Ophelia helped him, of course."

As they reached the first floor, Inigo was hit with the aromatic smell of the dish. His mouth began to water at the smell, and in a burst of energy, he raced to the dining room. The table had been set, and he caught a glimpse of a large bowl of shrimp fried rice towards the center. Sauces and spices sat next to it, and he spotted a bowl of salad as well. His dad, Ophelia, and Dawson were already at the table, and all eyes were on him as he entered. Inigo took his seat across from Ophelia, while his mom sat next to him. On his father's cue, they began to take turns scooping the fried rice onto their dishes. Inigo sprinkled some salt on it before beginning to consume his meal.

"So, Dawson," Inigo's dad started. "Where are you from?"

"Inkopolis Bay," he replied. "I hate it there, though. Everyone's all stuck-up and arrogant, so going to college was a breath of fresh air."

"But the beach there is nice," Inigo's mom argued. "I haven't been there since my honeymoon, though."

"We were planning to go when Inigo graduated," his dad continued. With a chuckle, he added, "My wife does look pretty good in a bathing suit, after all."

She waved a hand. "Aw, Greg...you're making me blush."

Inigo frowned. They were right—he would be graduating high school in a few months. And then a few months after that, he would be whisked away to college. He already knew where he was going—a place north of Inkopolis, the same place Ophelia is going to. It was close enough that he could hop on a train and visit home whenever he wanted to, but he wasn't ready to leave the city and his friends behind.

"Dang, that's right." Dawson's orange eyes fell on the boy with the ponytail. "Ophelia said you're going to our college, so feel free to visit me next year. I can help you out."

"Provided we haven't broke up by then," Ophelia teased.

"Hey, don't say that!" he gasped.

"Just kidding," she assured him. Her indigo eyes fell on Inigo again. "But yeah, you can come to him if you find me too embarrassing to be around."

"Well, at least you're a reliable contact," he muttered.

"Enough of that," his mom dismissed him. "What are you majoring in, Dawson?"

"Business...?" He raised an eyebrow. "I thought she already told you."

"Guess not," she said. "Or maybe I forgot. It could be either."

"Another question," his dad continued. "Tell me about your family."

Dawson frowned. "Do they always do this?" he asked Ophelia.

"Just answer it," she groaned.

He cleared his throat before answering, "I'm an only child, and before I went to college, I helped out at the family bakery. They want me to inherit it, but frankly I'm sick of baking. I want to have my own company, one that's not related to food at all."

"Say that works," the older man continued. "What would happen to the bakery?"

"Well, I guess they'll just give it to one of my cousins," he replied. "A lot of them like helping out."

He smiled. "A simple solution. Looks like you've got a lot of things figured out."

As his parents continued to question Dawson, Inigo simply listened to the conversation, eating his shrimp fried rice in silence. He was the first to finish, and clearing his throat, he asked to be excused from the table. He didn't see why he had to be there any longer. Thankfully, they accepted his request, and pulling his chair under the table, he retreated back to his room.

Inigo climbed back onto the bed and checked his phone. There were some new texts in the Rainbow Squids group chat, and soon enough, he found himself engaged in the conversation. Everyone was excited for the weekend, and Inigo shared their enthusiasm. Provided nothing else came up, he could spend the entire day tomorrow doing ink battles with his friends. It was enough to tire anyone out. Eventually, his curfew neared, and Inigo figured he would have to go bed soon. He set his phone down and changed into his pajamas.

Before Inigo could crawl under the sheets and head to bed, he heard another knock at his door. Opening it revealed Ophelia, who stood in pajamas, her hands behind her back. On her face was a small smile—the type of smile she would only make when she just wanted to talk to him. Not the wide smile she donned when she was about to pull a prank or otherwise planning something, nor did she don the grin she wore when teasing him. Now, it was simply a talk with no ulterior motives.

"Say, Inigo," she started, "wanna come with us tomorrow?"

He placed a hand on his hip. "To where?"

She shrugged. "Wherever. We're just gonna be walking around."

He chuckled. "Doesn't seem like a good plan to just be walking around doin' nothing."

"Quite the opposite! If you just limit yourself to one place, you get bored after a while. But if you be flexible, you can have loads of fun together."

He sighed. "You'll get bored eventually if you don't have any plans."

"Well, enough of that! Back to my original question: you wanna come with us or not?"

"I guess."

"Great!" She reached up to pat his head, and in response, Inigo turned into a squid, forcing her to kneel down. Snickering, she said, "I'll see you tomorrow morning, then."

He transformed back and said, "Good night."

"Good night." Ophelia closed the door and walked away, allowing Inigo to return to his bed and close his eyes, drifting away into slumber.

If he dreamed that night, he didn't remember it. He woke up to loud banging downstairs, and he immediately shot up from his bed, running down to see what had happened. A coatrack had fallen to the floor, and Dawson had been pinned to the ground, dazed.

"Oh my cod!" Ophelia yelled. She ran over to him and lifted the coatrack off of him. "Are you OK?"

With a groan, her boyfriend sat up and rubbed his head. "I'm fine... Just didn't look where I was going."

She giggled. "Is that all?"

"Yeah, yeah," he insisted. Orange eyes drifted over to Inigo. "And look who's awake."

"Huh?" Ophelia turned to face her brother, clasping her hands together. "Oh, you're up earlier than I thought!"

The boy with the ponytail scratched the back of his head. "You weren't planning to pull anything on me, were you?"

"Maybe." She smirked. "But I was planning to do that after I ate breakfast. I was making some toast when the coat rack fell over, and now you're here. So, you're spared from my antics...for now."

"For now?!"

"Hehe, I'll be pranking you eventually. As long as we're both still standing, that's a constant."

Inigo gave a small smile. "I'm not surprised at all."

"I already ate breakfast," Dawson explained, rising to his feet. "By the way, after Ophelia told me what you said last night, we decided on a place to go."

"Really?" He blinked, shocked. They had actually listened to him! "Where?"

"Urchin Underpass," he declared. "It's been a long time since anyone's battled there, y'know. Since the newest generation of fourteen-year-olds don't think it's fresh anymore."

"Well, maybe the fourteen-year-olds have a point," Inigo argued. "Why battle somewhere relatively underground when you can do it in front of a whole bunch of people?" He cleared his throat and added quietly, "It would be nice to see it again, though."

"I'm taking that as a yes," Dawson decided. "Well, you better get ready quickly, Inigo, because we'll be heading out as soon as possible."

"Alright, alright." Inigo disappeared into the kitchen to make a bowl of cereal, and he sat across from Ophelia as she ate her toast with a glass of orange juice. She finished before him, and after she threw the paper plate away and placed her glass in the sink, she walked over to Inigo and patted him on the head. Before Inigo could snap back at her, she was already gone. Groaning, he finished his cereal and washed the dishes before heading upstairs to change.

He came out of his bedroom wearing some shorts, an Octoking HK jersey, and his usual N-Pacer Ag. He put his phone into his pocket and walked down to the entrance to see Ophelia and Dawson dressed, the former's long hair tied loosely behind her head. The latter had a dull backpack slung around his shoulders, covered in pins depicting the logos of various bands.

Ophelia adjusted her sunglasses and asked, "Ready?"

"Yeah," he affirmed.

"Fresh!" she squealed. "Let's go!"

Ophelia left a note for their parents behind before exiting their house, jumping down towards the main streets of Inkopolis. Dawson used his phone's GPS to navigate them to Urchin Underpass, running along winding streets, the buildings growing more sparce until there were none at all. As they traveled towards the underpass, interstates beginning to sprawl above them, and for a few moments, Inigo could hear an airplane flying overhead. Graffiti, both new and old, covered the cement walls, and instantly, he knew that he had arrived at the place once hailed as the premiere stage for ink battles.

However, as he expected, Urchin Underpass was largely abandoned. Vehicles roared above them, and trees rustled softly in the wind. Some birds pecked at the ground before flying away at the inklings' arrival. Clouds hung over them, and while the forecast showed no signs of rain, Inigo still worried otherwise.

They approached one of the vending machines, where a sawfish tossed a can of soda in his hand. He merely grunted upon sight of the inklings, getting up and leaving with his hands in his pockets, leaving the empty can behind. The vending machines themselves were surprisingly up-kept, scrubbed free of graffiti. Ophelia took some cash out of her pocket and bought a can of Clione for herself. She popped it open with a hiss, and immediately, she began to drink it.

"Ah, that feels good," she commented, walking down the pavement. "Now, what next?"

"Wish there were more people here," Dawson remarked. "Then we could do a turf war."

"Don't Inkopolis Bay have their own stages to play on?" she puzzled.

"We share stages with the two towers," he explained. "So the squids in Inkopolis Bay can play with everyone else, but we have a few stages exclusive to us." He smiled. "I should take you to Darter Docks sometime. You can get such a good view of the sea from there."

"You sure they'll let me in?"

"Well, if I'm with you, surely they have to. And if they won't, then I'll make them."

Inigo's eyes widened at the comment. "Hey, can't ya sort it out peacefully?" he interjected.

Dawson snorted. "I like your optimism, but some people just won't listen to words alone."

He dipped his head in your defeat. "You're right. Would be a lot easier if we could just talk it out, though."

"Well, if they won't listen to you, you can just leave," Ophelia remarked. "You can always do that."

"But what if you can't?"

"Then that's when you have to fight."

Fighting... He did think he could hold himself decently in hand-to-hand combat, but he was by no means an expert. Of course, many squids his age would rather settle things with a turf war, but with people who weren't inklings, then things would get more complicated.

Well, then he would just have to try his best to deescalate the situation. He was much better at that than fighting.

They continued walking down the sidewalk, and once Ophelia finished her can of soda, she tossed it at the nearest trash can, though it fell short, clattering onto the sidewalk. Dawson ran over to pick it up and put it back into the trash can, giving a thumbs-up afterwards. Ophelia smiled and walked over to her boyfriend, interlocking their fingers together and continuing down the sidewalk while Inigo trailed behind them. Despite the nostalgic air Urchin Underpass had, he would much rather be somewhere else right now. The smell of gasoline lingered in the air, and being near the highway, it was especially pungent. He would much rather be in Inkopolis Square right now, talking to his friends and planning turf wars.

A few minutes later, Inigo paused in his gait as he heard footsteps from behind, though Ophelia and Dawson failed to notice it. They failed to notice he had stopped, too, as they kept walking down the path, talking to themselves. They paused to look at some stray nudibranchs, giving Inigo the chance to investigate.

Looking behind him, he could not spot anyone at first glance. But he quickly caught a glimpse of a magenta tentacle disappearing behind a wall. Eyes wide with curiosity, he followed it, and turning the bend, he spotted Valerie and Trace together, walking down a different pathway. The former's tentacles waved gently in the breeze, though they grew still as another truck soared past them overhead. Trace patted her back and looked over his shoulder, his yellow-green gaze piercing. Quickly, he noticed Inigo, and he turned around to clear his throat, grabbing Valerie's attention as well.

"You have not been following us for long, have you?" Trace commented.

"Why?" Valerie followed, still tense. "Are you suspicious of us?"

"I just saw something, and I wanted to see what it was," Inigo replied. His eyes met the two octolings'. "Though, you're not wrong in saying I'm suspicious of you."

They exchanged glances with each other before Trace said, "Suspicious? I suppose we cannot gain your trust right away, but I think we have proven we are trustworthy."

"Yes, you have no reason to be suspicious," Valerie agreed.

"Well, just saying that makes you even more suspicious," Inigo fired back, crossing his arms. "Look, Octa Prisma has told us that you and everyone else on your team used to be Octarian spies. The fact that you all showed up within such a short period of time can't be a coincidence."

"I think it is," the brown-skinned boy countered. "A lot of octolings have come to Inkopolis, especially after both instances of the Calamari Inkantation. I do not think it is unusual."

A small frown came across the inkling's lips. He did have a point—per word of mouth, there have been multiple large waves of octolings coming to Inkopolis, even if Inigo had largely not noticed any outside of Trace's team and Octa Prisma. But nothing accompanied their arrival, did it? He felt like Geneva or Alexis would've have mentioned it if so. Besides, if Octa Prisma thought they were suspicious, then he had no reason to trust them. He trusted his friends' judgement more than some people he barely knew.

"Do your friends think we are suspicious?" Valerie asked.

"Yeah, they do," he replied. "They're confident that at least someone in your group is a spy, if not all of you."

"That is ridiculous," she snapped. "Are you paranoid, or do you not trust Octarians because of our history?"

Inigo's eyebrows began to knit together, taken aback by her words. "I..."

Before he could give an answer, she huffed. "I knew it." She looked over at Trace. "Let us go."

"Yes." He took one last look at Inigo and added, "You should think twice before accusing someone of such a crime. This is especially true when you have no evidence."

They turned around, and Inigo merely gaped at them as they walked away, their figures growing smaller and smaller until he could see them no more. Defeated, Inigo returned to where he came from, rejoining his sister and her boyfriend. Ophelia pulled a nudibranch that had climbed onto Dawson off of him and set it on the ground, where it rejoined its fellow strays. As Inigo neared, their attention turned towards him, and they all started to slither over to him, grabbing the inklings' attention as well.

"Hey, Inigo," Ophelia greeted as one of the nudibranchs started to crawl up his leg. "Where'd ya been?"

"Just thought I saw something," he answered, "so I went to check it out. Turns out it was nothing."

"You sure?" She picked up a different nudibranch off the ground, the creature squirming in her arms. "You kind of look like you just saw a ghost."

"It's nothing, I swear," he insisted. "I was just thinking about something, that's all."

"So that's how it is." She sighed. "Well, if you don't wanna talk about it, then I won't bother you."

They continued traveling deeper into Urchin Underpass, Inigo only growing more nervous. What if he was wrong? What if the new group of octolings really weren't suspicious? And after his encounter with Trace and Valerie, would they take it upon themselves to retaliate? But if he was right, he couldn't let them go unchecked.

He shook his head, trying to dismiss his growing anxiety. He was getting worried over nothing. Whatever problems arose with them, the New Squidbeak Splatoon would handle it. Knowing how strong Geneva and her allies were, he was confident they would be able to solve it in no time.

He was just a civilian, after all. He had no authority to be digging his tentacles into anything that sounded suspicious, for he knew it would backfire on him.

Taking a deep breath, he continued onwards, the morning sun shining down on them.

A/N: Sorry this is a little late. At first, I thought I would have to delay it to tomorrow because I had a headache this morning, plus the fact that I wasn't super happy with this chapter. But my headache got better as time went on, and I was able to finish it and touch it up. So, here it is now. Though Inigo and Ophelia are quite different, they're still brother and sister. They care for each other a lot, even if they aren't as close as some of the other sibling pairs in this story. With everything out of the way, Branchwing, out!