Cold Nights in Octo Valley

Chapter 1: Cold Shoulder

The flimsy roof of a certain shed rattled softly as a cold breeze went through Octo Valley. Keeping its owner from his sweet, well deserved sleep. Winter wasn't far away and Craig Cuttlefish was far from being prepared for it.

Although his granddaughters had brought him plenty of blankets and warm cloth a week prior, the old man only wrapped himself in a cut up bedspread. The two idols always worried about him and repeatedly asked if he needed anything else, only to have their old man flash a cheeky smile and shake his head. He assured them that their company was all he'd ever ask for. Deep down he knew it was a terrible idea to use those blankets for his beloved zapfish plushies, having lost count of how many he had made since Agent 3 visited. But he just couldn't help himself.

After all, it was such a joy to watch the young inkling go back and rush through the missions again, trying to beat their best time and seek out sunken scrolls. Even though the squiddo wasn't very chatty, he could tell that they loved the satisfaction of successfully retrieving a plushie at the end of every mission.

Their enthusiasm reminded him of his time as a young soldier.

Before the war.

...

"Cuttlefish." a low, grumpy voice called out to him, ripping him out of his thoughts.

The elderly inkling turned his head, directing his sight at the giant snow globe that held his (involuntary) shedmate.

"Go get another blanket, I can hear your teeth chattering from over here. It's obnoxious." Octavio grunted out. Craig was aware that old octoling was quietly observing him all the time, so it wasn't unlikely that he also noticed him shaking. Shaking more than the old man usually does, that is.

"Well, ain't you considerate." Cuttlefish chirped in a sarcastic manner, immediately trying his best to suppress his shaking to invalidate Octavio's worries. "I'm A' okay with just this one. You look after yourself, got it?"

"Liar," the DJ sighed, rolling his eyes.

"I don't give a squid if you're cold or not, it's just that I would like to have a good 8 hours of sleep. To preserve whatever little sanity I have left after being stuck in this damn globe all day." he banged a tentacle against the thick glass, in vain. "Your grandkids brought you more than enough, so at least honor their gift."

Cuttlefish shot an embarrassed look at the space where once a large pile of warm cloth lay. Octavio followed his treacherous glance.

"You used them all for those silly plush fish, didn't you?"

"I didn't."

"You did."

"I did not."

"5 plush fish weren't enough, no. Captain Craig Cuttlefish had to make at least THIRTY THREE of them!" the DJ groaned exaggeratedly.

At least one of them was keeping track, Cuttlefish thought to himself.

"Well, if this was my only blanket, what do you propose I do? Run to Inkopolis to get another one? In the middle of the night? At my age?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at Octavio, who was rubbing his tentacle in pain.

A short silence manifested before Octavio answered:

"Let me out and I'll tell you."

Let me out. A phrase Cuttlefish had become way too accustomed to hearing in the past few months. He truly held a grudge against his former husband, but it still felt... cruel keeping him trapped in that ol' snowglobe. Even though it was for the greater good of inklingkind. It wasn't helping that the globe was ice cold when he cleaned it this morning. The thing also held so little space that Octavio barely fit in alongside his sizable ration of wasabi.