Under a heavy gray sky, Sasha sat motionless as the wind whipped around her. Her eyes were locked on the rolling sea in front of her, which was drenching her in its freezing spray in return. She seemed to welcome it, doing nothing but mindlessly picking at the rocks around her as every part of her surroundings leeched the warmth from her body.
Her fingers were smeared with dark blue, the salt having burned through the thin, permeable Inking skin. It stung, but no more than a bad scratch. Of course she could easily fix it, allow her whole body to melt into a mass of ink and reform whole, uninjured, but the thought that her body was capable of even doing that made her stomach turn. So she let the ink coat the rocks she was fidgeting with, turning them slick and slippery, and let her fingers twinge in pain until she got so used to it that she didn’t even notice.
Sasha had come to the ocean hoping it would soothe her nerves, as it often had as a child. She loved the ocean, its endless expanse that could distract her from her worries. She used to stop by on the way home from school, or slip out of the house to visit after a fight with her mom. The wind would blow her bangs away from her forehead, cooling her and allowing a moment of respite from the usually overbearing sun, as she watched the tide ebb and flow. She had hoped it would do the same today, steal the thoughts from her mind for long enough that she no longer felt like she was going to collapse in on herself like a dying star.
Instead, the screeches of the gulls above sounded like the echoes of long-silenced screams that the wind couldn’t drown out. The rocks beneath her feet turned into cold steel that froze her in place, and the brine of the sea smelled exactly like the stench of spilled ink. She contemplated getting into the water, dunking her head under the waves to mute the phantom memories, before realizing that she would literally dissolve if she did so. Dull anger and frustration paired with utter helplessness crashed over her, and Sasha wanted to throw the biggest rock she could into the roiling sea. Or curl into a ball and cry.
She did neither. She sat there while the wind pulled stiffly at her tentacles and tried to ignore all the ways her body felt wrong.
The windiest, rockiest beach near Inkopolis wasn’t exactly an ideal hangout spot, but that’s what made it perfect. Even if it was a bright, sunny day, you wouldn’t find many inklings or octolings here–there wasn’t really anything for them to do. They couldn’t enter the water, and the beach could hardly be called so, given that it was made up of massive rocks that made traversal tricky. The signage at the entrance claimed it was a nature reserve, and while people were allowed here, it wasn’t designed for their use. The perfect hiding spot.
Or at least it was supposed to be. In a momentary break from the crack-crash of the waves came the clattering of rocks behind her–the unmistakable sound of someone approaching her. There was only one person it would be, and it was the one person Sasha was running from.
Ava draped a sweater around Sasha’s shoulder and sat down next to her. Thankfully, she didn’t say a word. Sasha pulled the sweater tighter, before just pulling it on normally and rubbing her arms. She hadn’t really noticed, but between the wind and the water, she was freezing.
She didn’t look at the girl beside her.
They sat in silence for what seemed like ages. Sasha couldn’t sense any tension or burning questions from the other girl, despite the fact she must have them. She must be angry too, for having to chase Sasha all the way here, for having to put up with her weirdness for the past couple weeks, in her own home no less. She had every right to, and Sasha knew it. But despite it all, she was here. Ava had found her.
The space between them was charged, Sasha hyper-aware of every inch and every second that passed.
They had found something in one the kettles, a box of test tubes and encoded octarian notes. Callie had said she could figure out what the notes said with a little time, but Sasha didn’t need to read them to know what the tubes were. Some held liquid: a thin red substance, and thicker yellow and dark blue ones. Some were broken, their contents long gone. The rest were solid materials, bits of hair and bone. Unmistakably familiar. Unmistakably human.
All Sasha could do was run. She had fled the little shack in Octo Canyon in the middle of the meeting, not saying a word to Callie, Marie, or Ava. She had been halfway to Ava’s apartment before she didn’t want to go back there, and got on the first train that took her to the ocean. It was a miracle that Ava found her.
Sasha fought the urge to lean into her, to place her hand near Ava’s and wait for her to entwine their fingers, because she’d been doing that lately and Sasha enjoyed it more than she let show. Stealing a small moment of affection now, as a way to distract herself and Ava, wouldn’t be productive. So she didn’t.
Instead, she spoke, an admission to Ava and herself. “I want to go home.” The words hung between them, in the space Sasha had intentionally left, until she was convinced the wind had stolen them from her mouth.
“Where is that, for you?” Ava asked eventually. Her voice was rough around the edge and when Sasha glanced over at her, she was surprised to see that red rimmed her eyes and the remnants of hastily wiped tear tracks stained her cheeks. All restraint from earlier left her in an instant as Sasha grabbed Ava’s hand and squeezed. It was the only apology she could give in the moment. Ava squeezed back.
Answering her question, Sasha said “Nowhere here,” and was surprised at how tired she sounded. At how tired she was. “I want to go back to my family, to the town I know. To Finn. I don’t belong here, Ava.” A particularly large wave crashed in front of them and Sasha took the moment to breathe out some of the emotion choking her throat. Not enough. “I really don’t belong here. This body isn’t supposed to exist, not in this form. I can feel my soul yearning to return to where it belongs, and I’m scared to find out what happens when it figures out how to do so.” She was crying now, voice breaking on the last words. Her tears were mirrored on Ava’s face, of course they were, and Ava was the one to initiate the embrace Sasha was longing.
“We’ll figure it out. We’ll find a way to get you home.” Her voice was muffled in Sasha’s sweater, laced with sorrow, but through it all rang conviction. Sasha clung to her, arms tight around her friend's back. She believed her. She had to.