We should go for ramen, or your favourite ohagi

Our roots are too intertwined for us to ever truly be separated

Skull can't even be mad after Octavio is defeated, because the food he's given afterwards is too good to complain, and there seems to be an unlimited amount of it. He's not sure what kind of restaurant this is, or if it even is one at this point, because Sheldon refused him completely when he tried to pay. Goggles and Gloves had enjoyed drinks of their own, and Vintage had eaten more noodles than Skull thought was possible. He'd acted rather serious whilst walking around and shovelling in mouthfuls, his hands making quick and elegant use of the chopsticks, but Skull had seen his wide-eyed expression and slight baby blue blush when he took the first bite. They must be some good noodles.

They eat until they can't keep going. At first, they seem to turn it into a competition, challenging the other to eat more, but soon they're both only nibbling at their last portion and taking forever to chew and swallow. They both give up at the same time, and head out of the canyon with their fellow agents. They look up, and see the zapfish is back, twisted around the battle tower where it belongs. It snuggles its way into the neon signs, and glows faintly. It's quite beautiful, and Skull and Vintage are transfixed, staring up at it.

Straining his neck a little more than his taller companion, Vintage breaks the comfortable silence. "So much for catching up over food."

"Ha, yeah..." Skull puts a hand to his stomach and winces. "I think I ate too much."

"Tch." Vintage does his best to not look at the purple squid and scowl. Why is he not surprised? His hands are buried deep into his pockets, but there's a rustling noise as he fiddles with the lining. Skull glances aside at his companion, and reads the intensity of his simple expression. Vintage is just looking up at Deca Tower, but every muscle seems to be in use in an attempt to hold the nonchalant look on his face. They'd spent all this time together and yet they still hadn't talked.

Maybe some things will never change.

No, Skull refuses to allow that to happen. Just the thought of it makes him far too uncomfortable, and for a second he too finds himself also straining every muscle to not let that thought slip into reality. He has to take action immediately. He taps Vintage on the shoulder and then starts to walk off, passing the battle tower on the front side and heading towards Inkopolis Square News. Vintage's expression relaxes into something more natural and annoyed looking as he watches Skull stare at him from halfway across the square and give him a beckoning nod up. Vintage rolls his eyes and swiftly walks up behind him, coming to a stand still just past Murch as Skull is plugging numbers into one of the vending machines positioned at the side of the tower.

The taller squid leans on the front of the machine as the metal spiral twirls with a whirr. "Grab yourself something." A berry-red bottle clunks against the screen on its way down, and Skull crouches down to retrieve it from the bottom flap. "You're gonna need the hydration."

Vintage squints at him, but Skull just twists the lid off and takes a drink under his bandana, maintaining eye contact. Shaking himself out of his hesitation, Vintage inserts a few coins into the machine and plugs in the numbers for a simple bottle of water. The machine springs to life again, but Vintage isn't as hasty to drink it, bending down slowly to grab the item and tossing it in his hands, leaving it unopened, for now.

Skull waits for him to step back over, and they begin to walk out of the square. Their steps aren't in sync, but one never paces ahead of the other. The sun looks down on them from behind the occasional tiny passing clouds, and Skull takes another sip as they turn a corner. Vintage buries one of his hands even further into his pockets, his other hand struggling to grip the bottle as condensation forms. He moves from holding it round the top to gripping it at the cheap sticker label, and lets his arm swing naturally with the weight of it. The air around him is fresh, and the silence between them is peaceful, and Skull seems to actually know where he's going for once. Vintage is warm under his jacket, but as they keep walking it starts to hinge on uncomfortable. His swing hesitates, and he glances at the bottle.