Out for drinks

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Despite all the progress she'd made recently, Eight still didn't quite like being out in the hustle and bustle of the square. She had to fight the urge to turn into an octopus every time someone yelled even a little bit too loud, or entered her peripherals too suddenly. It was a little embarrassing, but luckily no one she knew seemed to judge her for it. She had every reason to be jumpy after what she'd been through.

Her eyes scanned over the light crowd, desperate to find Three as soon as possible. As much as she admires the other agent, she mostly just didn't like being alone for too long. Just one item on the endless list of things that made her nervous.

She eventually caught sight of her, wearing her causal clothes. A yellow T-shirt, standard-looking shoes, but still those weird agent headphone things. Then there was that scar, of course, but Eight had an easy time picking the other out of a crowd regardless.

She waved a hand excitedly. "Three!! Hi Three!!" She yelled over the crowd, managing to catch the other agent's attention.

She waved back, an almost nervous look on her face that quickly disappeared as the other ran over. Eight didn't notice it.

Three gave a soft smile. "Well you're early. Didn't feel like waiting?"

She blushed a little. "I got a little excited. It's been a while since I've gotten to see you. You're always out on patrol."

The Inkling laughed quietly, gazing out at the horizon. "Well, Inkopolis isn't going to protect itself."

Eight grasped the other's hands in her own, beaming brightly. "Well I hope it can today at least!"

Three blushed a little. "Me too, Eight. Where'd you want to go again? My treat."

She shook her head aggressively. "Noooo I've been saving up! You always treat me, it's my turn!"

The Inkling laughed. "Aww, really? I thought you hated Turf War."

"I don't hate it, it j-just intimidates me, that's all." She replied with a pout. "But I don't like spending Pearl and Marina's money, so I've been saving up a little for the occasion."

The warm smile returned. "You're too nice for your own good. Still letting you pick the place, though."

"Heehee, ok!"

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The two sat at a table underneath a pavilion, observing passerby as they sipped their drinks. Eight had had a bit of trouble actually talking to the cashier, which Three had anticipated and swept in to help. It was embarrassing for the Octoling initially, but she eventually just pushed the feeling aside in favor of admiration for her friend's act of kindness. She has plenty room for admiration to spare.

"How's life been treating you since I've been gone?" Three inquired, pushing around ice with her straw.

Eight gave a nervous grin. "Uh, I've been doing fine! Tr-trying to branch out a little. Leave my comfort zone a bit."

Three raised an eyebrow, looking a bit impressed. "Oh really? That's good to hear. How's that going for you?"

"Honestly? I-it could be better. I tried to do that Salmon Run thing, b-but all those fish are kinda scary, s-so I didn't do all that well. I kept trying to hide, I-I think the other three were starting to get sick of it." Her ears drooped a little.

Theee shrugged. "Meh, that job isn't for everyone, don't feel too bad. I worked a shift once or twice and honestly? Some of those bosses kinda irk me too."

The Octoling let out a sigh of relief. "Man, you're so much tougher than me, Three. It's reassuring to know I'm not the only one who thinks they're creepy."

She gave a small smile back. "What else have you been up to?"

"I've been trying to get into turf wars a bit, but I think it'll be a while before I'm used to all the attention I get when I do it..." she rested her chin on the table, pouting a little.

"It's less scary than Salmon Run though, right?"

"Definitely, it's just...I don't know, as much as I know it's not a life or death situation, it still makes me panic when someone throws a bomb at me."

Three hesitated for a moment before placing a reassuring hand on Eight's arm. "I...can't imagine not feeling that way, after what you've been through. Don't beat yourself up too hard."

She smiled up at her, eyes warm. "You always know what to say to make me feel better." She remarks, propping her hands up to rest her chin on something less hard than the table. "Honestly aside from that I think I'm pretty good at it? That's what my teammates usually say anyway."

Three smiled proudly. "That's good to hear! Have you made any turf war friends?"

Eight gave a nervous laugh. "N-not really? I mean, I'm terrible at talking to strangers. Everyone's so much better than me, they give off this vibe of, like, 'I'd splat you if you were on the other team,' you know? I just end up running away after the battle..."

Three shrugged. "Eh, I'm not too good with strangers either. Not much for small talk."

The Octoling looked confused. "You aren't loud when you're talking to me though...?"

She rubbed the back of her head. Sometimes she forgot that the other didn't always understand verbal shorthand. "No, uh, small talk is when you talk but don't actually say anything important. Like asking someone you just met how they feel about the weather. Doesn't do much aside from kill time."

"Oh." A pause. "We must never small talk then, because I think everything you say is important."

Three blinked, blushed, and smiled. She'd have to take time off more often.

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