SplaTOON: The Bonus Content!

The Jangoro Trial

Three sisters lived in Calamari County. Three sisters with the maiden name Idoho. Three granddaughters of Dodaji Idoho, a celebrated Inkling general. Three Cuttlian great-grandparents, but no one dared mention their ears.

The oldest, Kiruha, married Taryo Atakara. They had a daughter, Mari, who was four years old.

The middle, Kojun, married Urochi Jangoro. They also had a daughter, Kara, who was two years old, though Urochi was never convinced the child was his. The name Kara sounded an awful lot like both of his sister-in-law's married names.

The youngest, Pekachu, married Kohisama Kari. She didn't want to have children. Not after the drama that ensued when her husband was accused of infidelity.

Urochi and Kojun Jangoro lived with paint jars lining their mantle. They told visitors that they liked to paint, but there were no brushes or canvases in the house. They kept the paint because of that warning label on the jars: "contains mercury. Potentially lethal if ingested."

They'd stick their fingers in the paint jars and in bottles of ink dye when it suited their mood. They weren't going to be ingesting the dye, so they weren't going to die, but a few minutes of absorption through the skin would awaken something primal in them. They'd play around, shoving and biting at each other, throwing things though it was all in good fun.

They'd always put the baby to bed before they got to it, though. They were in charge of this kid, weren't they? She never came down, or at least they didn't notice, especially on that one night when Kara waddled down the stairs, a stuffed jellyfish in her infantile hands, and babbled, "Mommy, Daddy, I can't sleep."

An elderly woman living next door who had been awoken by the ruckus saw some silhouettes through her window. A young Inkling woman picking up a little girl no more than three and throwing her across the room like she was a ball on the playground. Then the woman collapsed on the ground.

The woman, gripped with horror, gripped onto the phone.

An hour later, Kojun's mind was fuzzy. She had fallen unconscious on the living room floor. Purple spit leaked from her mouth. Someone was pounding on the door. Every pound felt like a spike was being driven into her head. She didn't want to get up, but she had to stop that banging.

When she opened the door, she saw two men in police uniforms. Oh, no. Not again.

"Are you Kojun Jangoro?" one of the men asked.

"Yeah." Kojun leaned against the doorframe. "What about it?"

"We got a call from your next-door neighbor. She said you threw a toddler."

She froze, instantly shocked away. As she turned around to look in the living room, the two cops entered the house, followed by a pair of paramedics. She followed them into the living room. Urochi was still unconscious by the fireplace, but he at least appeared to be asleep. Little Kara, who was now in the hands of the paramedics, was a different kind of unconscious. She was completely limp as the paramedics carried her away. Her eyes were closed, and her skin was pale. It was like she was dead but not quite.

She was almost dead.

Kojun crouched down over Urochi and grabbed his shoulders, shaking him violently. "Urochi. Urochi, wake up!"

Urochi's eyes opened, and he was instantly put off by the flashing lights coming through the door. "Huh? What is it?"

"I think we broke the child!"

Before sunrise, Kojun and Urochi were being held custody in the same cell at the police station. Kojun's tired but fiery eyes were locked onto the officer on duty as she grabbed the bars. "You can't do this to us!" she shouted. "You can't just arrest someone after one report! Don't you have an investigation to do or something?"