Time to go fishing. Before his eyes had even opened, the boy's mind had already set itself onto the singular task. Rise with the sun, head out to the shore, and fish. Of course, he still wasn't quite used to it, but it was his job and there was no contesting that. He had siblings to feed.
Lugging himself out of bed and yawning, he made his way to the restroom, quickly brushing the taste of sleep from his mouth and splashing his face with water. Slipping back into the bedroom, he gently pulled the corner of his futon back and tugged on a board. It slowly peeled away from the floor, revealing a small pouch and a gutter's knife. Nemesis pulled out the knife, gently running a finger along its smooth edge. Sharp as ever. Good.
He walked to the door, pulling his jacket off of the coat hook and slipping the blade into a pocket. The floorboards creaked slightly under the Inkling's weight, causing him to flinch slightly. He tugged on a pair of worn sneakers, gingerly turning the knob and slipping outside. The morning sun had just begun to peek over the mountains, casting a dim orange glow across the treetops and blotting out the stars. A small cluster shone stubbornly despite the lightening sky, the crossing waves. Clear weather, good.
The trip downhill to the docks was silent, save for the occasional birdcall and the crunch of gravel under his feet. The trees thinned as the slope evened out to meet the sea, the surf lapping tirelessly against an ancient stone formation. Nemesis walked around to the side of the small shack at the end of the path, picking a spear up off a rack, a two-pronged fishing trident. It was heavy and unwieldy, standing taller than he did, but there wasn't anything he could do about it.
Setting the spear aside, the boy pulled his knife out of the jacket and let the cloth fall away from his body. It met the deck with a light flump, followed shortly by his shirt. Nemesis exhaled deeply, letting his throat close up. The waves slapped gently against the beams holding the dock up, throwing reflections up into his eyes. Gasp, don't breathe.
Picking the trident back up and adjusting his grip, the boy squeezed his eyes shut. Hopefully none of the predators were patrolling the waters. He sprinted off the edge of the pier, letting the cool water swallow him. The sounds of the surf rushed around in his ears as the currents threatened to pull him off balance. The sunlight shot into the dark waters, distorting and spraying out in all directions, illuminating the seabed with uneven light. Little fish rushed around in schools, tiny silversides and whitebait darting around amongst the stone formations. The boy forced his gills to flap, letting the cold water run over them so he could breathe again.
Hovering in the water, Nemesis watched, waiting for prey. Nothing stirred between the boulders by the shore, darting out of the crevices to snag the smaller fish. Kelp swayed to the currents off in the distance, and under the pier were crossbeams reaching down to the floor. Catching anything this early was unlikely, but he swam down anyway. Touching down on the rough stones, the boy went from stone to stone, peering into caves and probing their depths. Part of him was relieved that there wasn't anything big hunkered down within the hollows.
A rush of movement caught the Inkling's eye, causing him to whirl around and raise his spear, but it had gone before he could even catch a good glimpse of the thing. The waters had grown lighter, the sky above a rosy red as the sun climbed higher. He could see the undersides of the docks now, with a few fish zipping around the wooden pillars, but nothing looked big enough to stab... Groaning internally, the boy kicked off the rock he was on, kicking off toward the kelp.
Everybody hated fishing in kelp. Lines got tangled, knives got lost and nets got snagged, predators tore apart the unfortunate and desperate. The outlines of massive fish had occasionally been seen lurking around their stalks, but they were skittish, darting back into the vegetation at the slightest movement. There was both danger and bounty nestled amidst the kelp, and here he was, swimming toward the forest of swaying fronds.
There.
His eyes caught a flash of silver, and his head jerked around. Shit, behind him? A whiting whizzed away from him toward the rocks, its body wriggling in its panic to escape the Inkling. His excitement fizzled out. Just a whi- the small fish was engulfed by a much larger fish, scales blooming in the water where it had once been. Nemesis nearly recoiled, but he forced himself to stay still and watch it gulp down its meal. His hearts pounded in his chest, and he remembered an old saying: fish can hear the heartbeats of their hunters in the water, and an excited Inkling would go home hungry.
The Inkling kicked his legs as slowly as he could, flapping his gills to bring himself more oxygen as he drifted towards the fish. He raised the spear, leveling it and drawing his arms back. It swam through the water sluggishly, its silvery body flashing as sunlight bounced off of it. Closer... closer... he wasn't keen on losing such a large catch.
The fish slowed, its body so close he could see an empty black eye. Could it feel his heartbeats? Was it going to dart away and leave him empty-handed? Not today. The Inkling thrust downward with the full force of his body. The spear found its mark, piercing the fish and pinning it to the sand below. The shaft jerked in his grip as the poor creature tried desperately to rip itself free and swim away. Whipping out his knife, Nemesis stabbed into the fish's forehead. Blood plumed from the wounds and the spear went still.
— — —
The Inkling broke the surface of the water, tossing his catch up onto the planks above. He spat the water from his mouth and exhaled, allowing air to flood to his lungs once more. Lurching upward, Nemesis grabbed ahold of the dock, pulling himself out of the water in a single swift movement. He wasn't waiting for something to follow the smell of blood to his exposed toes. Water dripped onto the old warped planks, soaking slowly into the dried wood and leaving a trail of dark stains.
A breeze chilled the boy's tentacles as he placed the spear back onto the rack. Shuddering, Nemesis picked up his clothing as he trudged back to his catch. Tugging his shirt back on, the Inkling sat down on the dock, pulling out his knife with a little twirl. Better to gut the fish here than to stink up the house later.
— — —
Nemesis hummed gently as he toted the box of fish up the quiet street, the weight causing his walk to stagger slightly. Gravel crunched behind him. Footsteps, and lots of them. The fishermen had all gone down to the docks already, who- Something slammed into the side of his head, and he crashed to the ground. The crate's lid popped off, sending its slimy contents tumbling out onto the floor.
A snarky voice cackled. "Looks like the shrimp's stolen himself a bite of somebody else's catch. Leech." His vision was swimming, clouded by pain. Shit, where was the crate? The Inkling clambered to his feet, blinking the spots from his eyes.
"Leave me alone." He growled. He was surrounded, there wasn't going to be an easy way out of this. "I've got nothing for you."
"Oh, but you do." The boy that had punched him leaned in, his voice a whisper. "Stop wasting everybody's time. You go around actin' like you ain't just a leech feedin' off'a the village scraps. You're lucky we haven't turned you into chum. Save us some time, why don't you?" Each word stung like salt in a wound, stirring up an uneasy pressure in his chest.
"What do you think you're doin', huh? We never said we were done."
Nemesis continued to glare at his quarry. They wanted weakness. He would not feed them. The other Inkling's pupils contracted. "Really don't know how to clue in, huh? Maybe you're just plain stupid." A punch came flying at his head. He dodged, but somebody shoved him forward into the second jab. The hit drew a pained grunt from him, leaving his head ringing. That feeling in his gut began swirling faster, swelling within him, straining to get out.
A second punch brought him to his knees, a kick knocked him into the crate, which splintered under his weight. Shards of wood pressed into his back, the odor of fish reaching his nose. He groaned as he tried to regain his breath. The feeling tightened its coils around the young male's hearts, bringing the heat in his stomach to an unbearable level.
"Aw, c'mon, I thought you were tougher than that." Somebody jeered. That was it. Nemesis twisted his body, lunging for the legs of the nearest person and knocking them backward. He grabbed onto their shirt and pulled himself to his feet, slugging the kid back across the face. He saw fear flash across his target's eyes for a second. Good. A small grin crept onto his face as he tackled his victim onto the floor, continuing to pummel him.
Something slammed into the back of his head, sending him sprawling. The Inkling's head throbbed as he struggled back to his feet, taking a sloppy fighting stance and snarling. The others rushed him, and he forced himself to focus through the haze of pain. A punch landed on the back of his head, and he picked up a fish, whirling around and knocking his assailant to the floor with it.
The boy that had punched him first came sprinting in again, and his attention riveted on the new target. He would have what was due to him, and it would be sweet. Ignoring everybody else, he body-slammed the other boy to the floor and began whaling on him. His breaths grew short and his hearts raced. Something about that raw power coursing through his body was simply thrilling. His vision began to cloud with blue splotches, but he couldn't have cared less.
— — —
"You nearly killed them!" Nemesis gritted his beak, averting his gaze. Of course everybody had just snapped his classmates' every word up. He was just some random nobody to them, a stray taking bites out of the people around him.
"What was I supposed to do, let them pummel me into the ground?"
"That doesn't explain pulping seven of your classmates!" His adoptive father yelled.
"They broke the crate and kicked me into it!"
"And you beat somebody half to death with that same damn crate! How am I supposed to explain that to their parents?"
"Tell them the truth, then!" Nemesis yelled, his voice cracking with emotion. His hands were still stained with blood, arms covered in cuts and bruises. With his adrenaline slowly failing, he could feel each scrape chafing as his chest heaved. The older Inkling's eyes hardened in disapproval.
"Watch your tone, boy! You're lucky we took you in. That crest isn't yours, but we let you wear it anyway. Yet you disgrace our name time and time again. You're old enough to leave this home, yet you've never bothered to find a job. You get into fights with people every other day! Do you plan to drag our name through the mud forever?"
Nemesis turned and stormed out. Of course there'd never be any reasoning with his parents.
"I'm not done with you yet!" Don't turn around...
"Leave him be, he's not going to listen to you anyway." Don't turn around. Don't turn around. Don't turn around.
In the back of his mind, he could hear his classmates snickering. Slimy bastards.
— — —
Nemesis groaned as he sat up. The many cuts screamed as skin and muscle stretched. His mind was still buzzing slightly from the fight. His jacket still reeked of fish. He wasn't getting any sleep like this.
You're lucky we haven't turned you into chum. Save us some time, why don't you?
Do you plan to drag our name through the mud forever?
Those words rang through his mind. He looked down at his grimy bloodstained hands, the dull ache from the fight returning. His limbs felt like lead.
The Inkling peeled back the corner of his futon, prying up the loose floorboard. Reaching in, he pulled out his gutter's knife, looking at its menacing sheen in the dim moonlight. Come on, you coward. You know they're not wrong, you can't even do what you're told to do. Do everybody a favor. Do it.
He dropped the weapon, clutching his head. Tears sprang to his eyes, blurring his vision. Despite that, he could still make out the bright reflection of his blade sitting on the futon.
Can't even finish the job. You don't deserve to exist. You really are pathetic. He slammed his fist into the wooden floor, a sharp pain shooting through his hand. The pain grounded him, forcing the voices farther into the background.
"You want me gone? Fine." He whispered. He reached back into his hidden compartment, pulling out the small pouch of coins. Tucking away his little cache into a pocket, he crept over to the door. He turned to look back at the room one last time.
His "siblings" lay in beds not two feet from him, snoring away peacefully. He gritted his beak, his brow furrowing in a scowl. As his eyes scanned over them, he felt a small twinge within himself, as if something were being removed. But his mind found nothing. No happiness, no memories, not even an ounce of guilt or compassion to keep him in the room for even a second more. Sighing in annoyance, he quietly walked to the door and slipped out.
Sneaking down the hallway, he peered around the corner, hoping he wouldn't have to deal with his adoptive parents. No such luck. There they were, sitting in the dining room, talking in hushed tones. He crept towards the front door as silently as he could, hoping he could throw himself through it before they could grab him. The young Inkling looked down at the floor, cautiously testing his weight and planning his next steps.
Nemesis slipped his shoes on, trying to balance on one foot. Even as he struggled to cram his feet into the shoes, his mind raced. Fear began to set in as he thought of why he was leaving. If he was caught now, there'd surely be no mercy left for him. He tugged on his shoe in a final attempt to get it on, but in doing so, slammed his elbow into the door. A little hiss of pain escaped from his throat.
"Who's there?" his father called. Peering nervously around the corner, he saw both adults rising from their seats, brows furrowed in a mix of confusion and fear. He ducked his head behind the wall again, his hearts sinking. Internally, he debated between slinking back to the room and bolting for it. The two began to converse again, and Nemesis made up his mind.
He sprinted forward, throwing the door open awkwardly and lurching out, nearly tripping down the steps of the porch.
"Hey!" He heard his father yell. Ignoring it, he sprinted straight for the nearby woods, adrenaline coursing through his veins. The sound of yelling and another set of footsteps spurred him to run faster.
Nemesis sprinted through the woods, stumbling over roots and ducking under branches that appeared out of nowhere. His breathing was short and labored, but he kept running. He didn't want to be found. He didn't want to be brought back. He didn't want to see the disappointment on the faces of the people around him. He was sick of it all.
Slowing his pace, the young Inkling struggled to catch his breath. His form was still weak compared to that of the adults. His body strained to keep up, making it painfully clear just how much of a difference there was. But he couldn't stop now. Taking a deep breath, he pressed on into the woods.
A thought hit him. Where was he even going? And... where... was he?
"Damn it..." he grumbled, looking around to see if the moonlight would reveal anything to him.
Past the leaves, he saw the shadowy peak of Nantai, far off to the northeast. That made two major options: the far-off Calamari County, a peaceful town between Nantai and an ancient caldera, and to the caldera's left, the city of Inkopolis. One was a small, quiet place to settle down and start over, the other a bustling world of color, where people could build up their names one way or another.
Nemesis juggled the two ideas as he walked, trying to decide between the two.
"Wait, no. I still gotta figure out where I am." He looked around for a tree, and upon finding a suitable one, began to scale it in an attempt to scan the landscape for any light. The canopy didn't help, obscuring any possible artificial light. The stars glittered above like seaspray, the familiar hunting constellation glaring down disapprovingly at him. He sighed, leaning back to stare back up at the group of stars. Good riddance to good luck- wait a minute. What was that? The Inkling sat up, squinting at the disturbance off in the distance.
A singular red light blinked off in the distance; a silent, flickering hope.
— — —
A great many hours later, he finally broke through the treeline. In the little clearing before him was a humble little train station, rails stretching off into the distance both toward Nantai and away. The sun had risen and was climbing high up into the sky, its rays beating down upon him. His already old and stinking clothes were now slightly frayed and muddied from being pulled through the undergrowth. Stumbling up to the ticket counter, he looked up at the station choices. Damn, he could barely read any of it... what kind of names were those?
"Where you goin', kid?" Nemesis blinked.
"Uh... I-"
"Another wanderer, huh? Seems like we get a few too many of you guys through here..." the attendant sighed. "Inkopolis train gets here in ten minutes if that's what you're looking for." That worked. Anywhere but here, he supposed.
"Th-thank you, sir." He pulled out a handful of coins. "How much do I have to pay?"
"That'll be 75 clams." The young Inkling blanched but handed over the payment.
"That's one ticket to Inkopolis, now get moving before the train leaves without you and you have to wait for the next train."
"Thank you, sir." Nemesis snatched the ticket up, walking over to the station platform. Checking his pockets, he found nothing more than his knife, the much smaller pouch of coins, and an old necklace, which had been given to him when he'd finally changed forms. He remembered what he'd been told the night he'd taken that form for the first time.
You'd better be grateful, you're lucky we even adopted you. You better get your act together. Listen for once in your life and set a good example for the rest of them kids. You've got a long way to go before you deserve this crest. A scowl crept across his face, his fingers moving to the cord and ripping it away from his throat in a single swift motion. His eyes scanned the object coldly before he tossed it onto the tracks.
"I didn't ask to be a part of the family. You can have this shit back. I don't care if you want me. I can do it myself." He muttered to the air.
The train pulled into the station, slowly grinding to a stop. Its doors hissed open.
"Train to Inkopolis!" Nemesis handed the ticket to the Inkling checking the tickets. He knew the man was looking him over, and he glared in response. Snatching his ticket back, he stepped onto the train. The doors hissed shut behind him, and the train's horn blared.
— — — — —
Hello, it's Nemesis. Sorry about everything, I'm back. This thing has undergone so many changes as I learn how to write basic English, I hope you like what I've done. Any feedback would be nice, as always. I hope you've enjoyed your past experiences, and I hope my new work lives up to your expectations. Stay safe, have fun, live your life.
And yes, my editing is going to be actively changing the material. These are just drafts and ideas I have. When they're truly done and something I can appreciate, I'll hit complete. I hope that I can provide you all with the best experience possible.
-Nemesis