Agent 38: In The Making

Chapter 16: Dreams

     Agent 3 and Agent 8 had gone to the apartment that evening after he lost his arguement. As they passed through the Square, he nearly lost Sarai because she'd spent quite some time goggling at the tall buildings, groups of Inklings, and all the "fresh" clothing in awe.
     Unfortunately, the looks she got back weren't as awestruck. Mostly enraged, confused, or scared. He'd made sure to stay close to her as they wandered through the Plaza, so that nobody would think about doing something to her. She'd begged him to go to Jelfonzo's clothing shop, Bisk's shoe shop, and Flow's accesory shop, hoping he'd buy her at least one pair of one thing. He'd sighed, but agreed to it.
     Callie had given them a bit of extra money to buy her some clothing anyway, so he bought her a Black FishFry Bandana, a Reel Sweatshirt, Red Iromaki 750s shoes, and a pair of sweatpants that she said looked comfortable to sleep with.
     After that, they headed towards the apartment, where they quickly got settled in. He'd taken off his cape and draped it over the couch armrest. Eight sat down and sank into the cushions with a pleased sigh, closing her eyes.
     The apartment was small in a cozy way. The kitchen was just to the left of the front door, with the living room beyond that, and the bedroom to the right of the front door. Unfortunately, there was only one bed, so either one of them would have to sleep on the floor or the couch, or... in the same bed.
     "Hey, Eight?" Three asked, looking for the remote to the TV. She opened her eyes and blinked at him hazily, as if she'd been falling asleep. "Do you want me to take the couch or something? I wouldn't mind."
     She looked confused. "Why? Oh, right. Only one bed... Um."
     He found the remote and sat down next to her. The couch was surprisingly comfy, and he basically fell into the plush cushions. Three turned on his favorite channel and heard Eight mumble something that sounded like, "You can take the bed, this couch is too comfy..."
     As he watched the show and ads, he felt his eyelids start to droop as the hours ticked by. The moon was just starting to crawl over the horizon when he leaned his head back and fell asleep, and felt a bit of weight on his shoulder.

     Agent 3 screams in agony as pain sears through the right side of his face. He suddenly feels an odd presence come over him, twisting his body and making him move without permission. He tries to scream and shout, do something, but as he opens his mouth, he finds that the noise is completely restricted.
     Now this, THIS was true, untouched, pure terror.

                              9:23 A.M.
     Three surged awake, stifling a yell. His hearts raced as though life depended on it, and his lungs decided it would be fun to heave in and out in rapid succesion for a minute. Eight woke up to the sudden movement and looked up at him, yawning. He realized she'd been pillowing her head on the crook of his shoulder and he'd been resting his head on hers.
     "Everything ok?" She mumbled. A look of sudden realization dawned on her face and she scrambled away, embarrassed. "S-sorry, I kinda fell asleep and forgot the bed was there-"
     "I-i'ts ok..." He muttered, face dusted with red. "It happens, I guess..."
     He stood up, stretched, yawned, and walked over to the kitchen to get some cereal. Eight followed wonderingly and sat down on a chair in front of the counter. He opened the fridge for milk and saw that Callie and Marie had apparently bought them some groceries. There was milk, bread, pasta boxes, fruit, all the basics. He checked in the cupboard and cabinets. Cups, pots, pans, and utensils stacked in neat rows were piled in them, along with a few boxes of cereal, chips, and other dry and canned foods. He pulled out two bowls, two spoons, a box of Choco-Puffs, the gallon of milk, and set them down next to Eight. He took one bowl, poured in the cereal, then the milk, handed her a spoon, and passed the bowl in front of her. He did the same for his bowl and watched as Eight took her first bite.
     Unsurprisingly, her eyes twinkled with pleasant surprise, and she wolfed down the rest of the meal, which took approximately 40 seconds.
     "Have you never eaten cereal before?" He asked in between bites. She swiveled her head, cheeks filled with food, and shook her head as a no. He grinned a little. "Well, you can take some more if you want. I wouldn't mind."
     Eight mumbled a thank you and poured in another mountain of cereal, then the milk, and wolfed it down once again while he slowly ate his singular bowl. Once he was done and Eight had vaccumed her meal, she went into the room, gotten changed into the clothes he'd bought her, and came back out with her previous clothes folded into a neat stack. He had to admit, it was hard to ignore how gorgeous she was. The shirt hugged her in all the right places, but it didn't look like she was uncomfortable. The black headband complimented her opal eyes, and the shoes went very well with her skin tone. She set them down on the couch and sat down next to Three, who was currently texting Agent 4, who's name was Aaron. He had known him and been good friends with him for a long time, but hadn't seen him in a few years. The disgustingly positive Inkling had told him to meet him at the Deca Tower, and to bring Eight so she could play some Turf.
     "You wanna go play some Turf War today with Four?" Three asked her. She looked up from the couch and nodded vigorously with a smile.
     "When are we leaving?" Eight asked excitedly.
     "We can go right now, if you want." Three responded.
     "Yes, please!"
     The two made their way out of the apartment, into the streets of Inkopolis Square, which were brimming with voices, whispers, and glares once they noticed the singular Octoling wandering through.

     "What is that thing?" Asked one voice.

     "Guys, let's go. That thing could go rogue at any second." Whispered another.

     "Does she know that Octolings aren't welcome here?" Murmured a deep voice.

     "Wonder if she's alone. Maybe we can drive her out of here." Said one guy to his group. Three heard this and shot a venomous glare at him, to which he had the grace to look somewhat nervous.
     "THREEEEEEEE!" Someone suddenly screeched. "OVER HEREEEEEEEEE!"
     He raised his head to see a giddy-looking Agent 4, waving frantically at him and Eight with both hands.
     Three stormed over, stopped in front of him, and punched him hard in the stomach.
"Do you want the entire world to know who we are and cause a panic?" He whispered sharply. "If you ever say my Agent name out in public again, I swear on my life I'll have your little ghost flying to the nearest respawn point. Got it?"
     Agent 4 simply laughed and patted him on the shoulder. "I forgot your actual name. What else was I supposed to do? I haven't seen you in a while."
     "Wait for us to see you and then go get you, obviously!" He nearly yelled. Eight tapped his shoulder.
     "You don't have to be so aggressive, Alex." She said. "He forgot your name. Cut him some slack."
     Four pushed past him and held out his hand to Eight with aggressive positivity.
     "Don't think we've officially met yet!" He exclaimed. "Call me Aaron, or Four, whichever you prefer."
     Eight shook his hand with a smile. "And you can call me Sarai, or Eight."
     "I think we should stick to our actual names when we're out in public, right?" Aaron asked, turning to Three. He nodded. "Anyways, should we get you a weapon?"
     "Sounds good to me."
     The trio entered Sheldon's shop and the turtle jumped from his shell with a smile. "Hello, hello, what can I do for you today? Oh, hi Agent 4. Good to see you again, Three." He turned his gaze onto Eight and the color drained from his face. "Um, I w-would politely like to a-ask you to leave m-my store, please." He stuttered.
     Three rolled his eyes. "Sheldon, this is Agent 8. She's with us."
     "Oh." He instantly relaxed. "In that case, what're you in the market for?"
     "I really don't know." Eight responded simply. "I'm quite fond of every weapon except Blasters."
     "Hm..." Sheldon said, examining Eight. "I take it you're a Brush lover, right?"
     She stared at him in shock. "How did you know that?"
     "It's quite simple, actually," Sheldon started. "Whenever a customer walks in, their gaze almost immediately goes to the closest weapon that they like. I saw that your gaze went immediately to the Inkbrush. But of course, there are always those that don't have a preferance, and those people are harder to predict. So, I usually go around the store to try and find a weapon that suits them and that they are most comfortable with, and they typically end up maining that weapon. See-"
     "Okay, that's enough." Three said, covering his mouth. "We'll take the Inkbrush, thanks."
     "Alright." Sheldon muttered. He walked over, pulled out a step stool, and jumped onto it, grabbing the Inkbrush and handing it to Eight. She smiled at it in awe. "See, this is a basic Inkbrush. It has Splat Bombs and Splashdown as a special. Perfect for running straight up to your enemies and bombarding them with ink. Enjoy!"
     They entered a Turf War match and stepped out into the Arowana Mall.
     Three pulled out his Hero Charger Replica, Four produced the Hero Dualies Replica, and Eight held the Inkbrush like it was her best friend in the world.
     A rush of adrenaline whipped through his veins as Eight nervously asked him a question.
     "Three..." She mumbled. "It is just inking turf, right?"
     Both him and Four chuckled. "Hah, no." He said with a smile. "In Turf War, it's kill or be killed."
     Three turned to Eight with a genuine smile he hadn't experienced in a long, long time.
     "Agent 8... Welcome to Inkopolis Square."

I had way too much fun writing this. And I have a lot planned for the next few chapters, so stay tuned! School is in 3 days ahhhhhhhhhh
Word count: 1738