{ splatoon manga reader insert }
While the February Nintendo Direct started up, you couldn't help but worry if the presentation would cater to your very specific tastes (Splatoon).
With the announcement of Splatoon 3, you blacked out, later waking u...
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AND HE RAN. The moment those words left your mouth, a look of panic washed over the octoling's face before he whipped around and bolted. Rather anticlimactic, but to be fair, you weren't sure what you were expecting. It was better than being threatened by someone who was trained to kill. Though, you did feel bad for scaring him.
Time to chase him down and aggressively apologize!
"Oh wa...Wait!!" You pushed yourself off the ground and moved as fast as your legs could carry you, feet pounding against the cement and after the disguised octoling. He jumped onto a trash can (placed where the Amiibo box would be, you noted) and hopped over the cement wall that surrounded the plaza. You did your best to follow, but your body didn't share the sentiment. The trash can clattered against the ground from your poor parkour skills, and you nearly tripped running across the train tracks.
Still, you pressed on, determined not to lose the first person you made contact with. Your running grew steady and practiced; you'd have to thank your parents for signing you up for soccer, it gave you an advantage over your new acquaintance. With quick strides, you found yourself catching up to the octoling. This guy had stamina like you've never seen, but then again, you've never seen an octoling run before.
Although your focus was on the escapee in front of you, in your peripheral vision you could make out blurred graffiti and alley storefronts, along with some inklings and other creatures who stopped to watch you run by. All the short-lived attention on you two brought a smile to your face, and a laugh rumbled from your chest. The octoling ran faster.
'Shit.'
Okay, bad move there, especially since you were starting to exhaust yourself. You wished you had done some stretches before you scared him off. You did your best to keep up with the octoling in your sights, sliding around creatures in the crowd and jumping over small jellyfish. If you didn't catch him now, you were going to lose him. The octoling made a sharp right and you grabbed a corner streetlight to spin after him, hoping that the momentum would be enough for you to crash into him—
You skid to a stop. The alleyway was nearly drained of light, and the buildings on the right and left towered over you, blocking out the sun's rays. At the end of the path sat a dirty brick wall, covered in crude graffiti and unknown stains. A dead end.
You let out a large sigh in relief, resting your hands on your knees as you gulp down air. Wearily, you raise your head to look at your absconding acquaintance and—
Oh.
The pink octoling stares at you like a deer in headlights, eyes wide and unmoving as he quietly gasps for air. His hands grasped his hat and jacket so tightly you swear his knuckles turned pink. His back is pressed up against the ragged brick wall behind him.
Oh.
You seize up, an anxious panic shooting through your spine. Your hands grow hot and clammy as you look at him. Shit.
