Ali wasn't allowed to go into Keaton's room. She figured the staff were afraid of her reaction to Kai's death. She really didn't want to go into his room, though. No. She was waiting until he was awake. She wanted to face him and make him feel everything that was coming to him. Ali knew he was supposed to face a trial. There was a system for foul play and mal intent, but Ali had her own idea of justice in mind.
Had Kai felt the pain of his brain bursting? His eyes had been open when she'd ran in, but she hoped that hadn't meant he'd been conscious. Just thinking of Kai's final moments made her feel cold all over. She lifted the paper cup of sugary fluid to her lips and took a sip. She's sitting in an empty hospital room, leaning forward in her chair.

The octoling was done crying. She didn't have any tears left to shed. Tucked in her jacket pocket was the tiny jar of magenta ink. Ali fixates on a speck of green ink at the foot of the patient bed. Whose was it? Had they also died in this building? She knew, logically that Kai was one of many who had passed, but he was hers, and he'd been taken from her. She reaches into her pocket to touch the jar, it's warm from being near her body. Something about that makes her strangely calmer.

Standing and walking to the door she opens it to see a male inkling in the standard enforcement uniform: a white button down, combat boots and a pair of shades. "I'm ready to go home." She shoves her hands in her pocket. The inkling nods, his yellow tentacles bobbing behind his head. He takes her by the arm and gently, yet firmly leads her down the halls.

The light is harsh to her eyes, she hadn't been outside in almost two weeks. It's sunny and even on the outskirts of town, where the hospital was it was busy. Ali starts walking at a brisk pace, eager to escape the eyes of anyone and everyone. Her phone rings in her pocket and she hardly pays attention to it. Pearl and Marina had been trying to reach her ever since the event had been on the news. Se knew they were concerned about her, but she didn't want to talk to them. She didn't want to talk to anyone.

To make matters worse, splatfest was tomorrow. Squids and kids were already wearing their tees and wristbands. Calling was represented by a pastel pink. Texting supporters sported a baby blue. Ali's pink t shirt was laying on her bed in her apartment. She doubted she'd be wearing it, splatfests be damned.

Ali stands across the street from Kai;s and her favorite cafe. She stares at the front window, hoping to feel some shred of what she felt with him. A minute passes, then three. She doesn't realize she's moved until she places her hand against the glass. Kai had stopped there for croissants numerous times. She'd come to love them simply from his affinity.

She turns away and crosses the street, entering her apartment. Climbing the stairs and walking down the hall, she feels like she's a machine. She walks into her room and then out to the balcony. She resumes her gaze on the cafe and remembers her first time spotting Kai. His dark red stare had her consumed from the moment they'd locked eyes. He'd seen through her, and had swallowed her whole.

And he was gone.

Her body moves on its own and she leans over the railing. Her upper half looks down at the street below her and her toes lift on the ground. She jerks and pulls herself back, breathing heavily, her head spinning. No, she wouldn't kill herself. She had things to do. Looking at the splatfest tee on her bed, the gears in her head turn. She throws her jacket on the floor and pulls off her tank top. Looking at her sickly skinny body in the mirror, she studies the scars on her body. A large one on her back from the exploding ink pack. Small spots all over her torso from past turf wars, and enemy fire. She puts the splatfest tee on and makes a silent promise to make everything right again.

...

"You look enchanting." Kai cups her face in his hands and kisses her softly on the lips. She leans in, hungrily, begging for more. He gently pulls back, "Slow down. I want to take my team and enjoy every second." His red eyes seem more alive than ever and they glint as he places a hand on her hip. She puts her hands around his neck and revels in his warmth. Just warm enough to make her fingers tingle. Kai tilts her head and kisses her neck. Ali shivers as he bites, lovingly. He sucks the sore skin and lays more kisses on the spot. Ali feels as though she has a live zapfish in her chest. She whispers "Kai…" He brings her back to eye level and gives her his wonderful, small smile, "Yes?" She hugs him tightly, her face in his chest "I love you."
Ali wakes up, breathing heavily. She looks around the dark empty room and instantly bursts out crying. She screams and yells and sobs so hard her chest hurts. She recognizes that she was aroused by the dream, but her heart aches harder. Snot runs down her face and tears stream, hitting the blankets. Her face meets the pillow again and she smells Kai's scent, faintly lingering from his many nights spent with her. She sniffs, feeling ugly, and coughs. Wiping her nose on her arm she feels her lower lip tremble, threatening to fall apart all over again. She looks across the room and sees the jar of ink, just barely glowing in the dark, and then looks out the window. Fireworks and lights dash across the sky. Splatfest had started at midnight. Ali wipes away her tears and gets out of bed. Getting dressed, she grabbed her octo shot and headed out for the battle tower.

Ali fought for her team for 16 hours straight. She didn't leave the lobby once from the time she woke to the time splatfest ended. She fought alongside countless strangers, and ruthlessly destroyed opponents. Her splat rate was higher than anyone she fought with, or against. At the end of splatfest she didn't even stick around to see who won. She walked back across the plaza and into her apartment, feeling tired and worn down. She'd worked hard, but reaped no satisfaction. No rush came from the battles, it was as if when Kai had left, he'd taken all her good parts with him.

…

Keaton didn't wake up for another two weeks. Why they didn't pull the plug on him was lost on Ali. Then maybe she wouldn't have to fulfill her duties. It was on Off the Hook, with pictures of him awake and disoriented. Ali wasn't the only one who wanted Keaton to pay, half of Inkopolis wanted him to burn, while half wanted him to get psychiatric help. Deep inside, before Kai had died, Ali had wanted him to get help too. Now she just wanted to see him melt before her eyes.

For the past two weeks Ali had done everything to make sure she looked normal. She'd signed up for the turf wars daily, despite their lack of excitement. She'd finally talked to Pearl and Marina, assuring them that she was coping with her grief properly. At night she stayed up, fearing the dreams that might come. She'd plotted what she'd do if Keaton was released. Her mind fabricated twisted, macabre fantasies about what her deep rage would fuel.

The squid kid was in holding, awaiting his trail. Ali was going to be there to testify on Kai's behalf. His punishment could be anywhere from probation to life. Inkopolis had rid itself of the death penalty in its early stages of development, Ali had found out from research, but life in detainment could be just as terrible. Either way, she'd make sure Kai got justice.

Ali sipped her coffee and scrolled through the web page. She's read about old religions, and the belief that there was an afterlife. She scoffs and clicks on an image, how crazy was that. There couldn't be a God or an afterlife in a life where soulmates can just die unfairly. Where killers aren't guaranteed to get what they deserve. Where she's left alone. Nonchalantly, the octoling zooms in on the image. On the screen are images of the ancient human torture techniques used in war. She sips her coffee again and smiles.

Thanks for reading!