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Stepping out into the crisp air of the surface feels new every time she does it. The sharp scent of black pine shoots into Marina’s nose, even though it’s hidden under a sleek black helmet. An invigorating gust hits her back through her sleek riding jacket the second the door closes. She had only been inside the convenience store for 5, 6, minutes, but that was apparently long enough for her senses to de-acclimate.
After all, it’s only been three days.
She unbuckles the tacky teal-and-black saddlebags that sit on the back of her baby. An old Suctpilen 10; an imported standard bike she got her hands on two years back, when she couldn’t even ride. Of course, any Squid or Octo worth their salt wouldn’t recognize it anymore; it’s almost fit for touring now. She’s modded and tinkered her beyond recognition, replacing parts with whatever she could find...A sin, in some circles, but to Marina, this was the true calling for her talents.
With a sigh, thinking about how ugly the luggage looks, she evenly distributes the food and drinks she bought. Her gloved hand tenderly strokes the welt of her inkgel seat, before she saddles it. She makes she her muffler is nice and snug around her neck, and then…Key, turn, glove on the clutch, and-
Vwhrrrrrr!!!
A bolt of white lightning flashes past her, breaking the sonic barrier with all its booming, muzzleless glory. The force almost knocks Marina over, and she hadn’t even lifted her kickstand yet! She has little time to recoil, though. She quickly sets the bike into speed, trying to pursue whatever just assaulted her ears.
Of course, she knows she can’t catch it. But there’s no way a bike that loud will leave earshot; this is the moment she’s been waiting for. Her clunker of a bike chugs up the mountain trail, losing speed as she carefully navigates the twists and turns. It’s hard to imagine someone can navigate this road at such a high speed, but she had seen it before.
Three days ago.
She had just ran away from home. Just her, and her bike, trekking up the rough ridges of Octo Canyon, until finally, she reached the sky, well and true and blue. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
But it quickly became the second.
As she approached the base of Mount Nantai, she stopped for gas. Another rider was there. An inkling . Not even to Marina’s chest; imagine her surprise when this little Squidling mounted a beautiful white-and-gold make of this year’s Kawamari H10. Less impressive than the racing variant, but still a beaut with its 1010cc superfresh engine.
She wanted to say hi.
No, she wanted to talk about bikes! But, this was an Inkling, and Marina was an Octoling…Her hesitation kept her in her shell, or, rather, her helmet.
But not today! She’s been camping out on Mount Nantai, hoping she’d catch just a sliver of that pocket-sized rider.
Finally, a straight, uphill road gives Marina a chance to center her thoughts. Thoughts that veer off-course when the H10’s steely roar no longer echoes in the air.
Did she crash? Did she try a stupid drift move!? Was she hooning!? Is there a ‘respawner’ on this mountain? She races ahead, watching the needle on her Takometer twitch to the right. After just another bend, she finds her little lightning safely grounded. Thank goodness…
She pulls up next to the Inkling and, luckily, given her curiosity over what happened, her anxieties don’t even get a chance to whisper in her ear.
“What happened!? Are you okay?”
The Inkling crosses her arms, looking Marina up and down. Thankfully, with her helmet on, nobody can tell Marina’s an Octoling. This girl, however, has already taken her helmet off. Earmuffs over earplugs; that must be how she avoids going deaf with that howler. Her face is cute, on the first pass, but lap around and you’ll notice an arrogant glint to her eyes and a natural smirk to the corners of her lips. Even though she’s pouting. Somehow…Marina can’t help but think this white-haired Inkling is the epitome of a cool, fearless rider.
“Yeah, suddenly the engine gave. Well, I could feel it was going, really. I thought we were in tune, but I guess it couldn’t handle me as well as I handled it!”
Arrogant and reckless words for someone who could have just been splatted!
“Really? That’s weird; it’s a new bike, right? Can I take a look?”
The girl quirks an eyebrow, then a smug grin creeps all the way up to her eyes.
“Sure, yea, never seen anything like it, right? Never HEARD anything like it either, huh?”
Wow…How did this girl know!? So cool… Marina removes one of her gloves, gliding it across the white fairings of the bike. It doesn't take a keen eye for her to realize the problem, though.
“Look at this, one of your fuel inkjectors is completely mucked up.”
“Huh! No squiddin’! How can you tell a thing like that so fast?”
Marina feels a little bashful suddenly, reaching to brush a tentacle behind her ear…but it clanks into her helmet.
The girl looks at the helmet, in response, and seems curious about the face underneath.
“Name’s Pearl. When it comes to the Mount Nantai Mountain Circuit? I’m number one! No car or bike can even give me a run!”
Marina chuckles. Was that a rhyme? A rap?
“I”m…Marina. It’s nice to meet you. Um, if you’d like, I could take a closer look at your bike.” She hadn’t meant to, but she rhymed too, didn’t she?
“Aight Marina. You’ve got a garage in the city?”
“Huh? No, I…I’ve never even been there yet.” She looks away, realizing that might be a misstep.
“Oh, a country bumpkin? Guess that makes sense, with your bike. What even is that-”
“She’s a Suctpilen!” Marina quickly cut in.
“What, you sure? She’s cool, at least, even if you can't come close to my speed.”
“Oh, thanks…”
“What about the rider? Is she cool?”
Marina doesn’t answer. She deflects by walking back to her bike, and starts pushing it down the road. It’s quite a long walk, especially with the two of them shoving giant metal lunks along the way. Maybe she should ride on ahead…but this is her first real interaction with an inkling, and such a cool one, too.
“Come on, Miss Pearl. My camp is this way.”
“Camp?” Pearl starts walking with the bike that’s her equal in stature. “None of that ‘miss’ carp, ‘rina. You’re doing me a solid, so just Pearl.”
“‘Rina…?”
“‘Rina. …Hey. Take your helmet off, so I can see how fresh you are.”
That sharp, pine-scented air is starting to bite as the sun sinks down below Octo Canyon in the far west.
“I’ll be cold, if I do that…”
“Then take these,” Pearl says, removing her earmuffs, and holding them up towards Marina.
Her pace stops, alongside her heart. She hesitates, hiding in her shell like three days ago. She ran away from home, but she doesn’t want to run away from this. Maybe it’s dark enough that Pearl won’t notice.
She removes her helmet, and quickly puts the muffs, a little too small, over her rounded Octoling-ears. She tries to smooth her hair out with her hands, but there’s no hiding the suckers on the outside.
She catches Pearl staring at her.
Did she notice? Is their friendship already doomed…?
“Prettier than I thought, ‘Rina.”
Her knees turn to limp tentacles and she leans into her bike. Pretty? Pretty!? She grips her muffler and kneads it with her fingers. Her anxiety had pushed past the redline, so that flirty line throttled her twice over. Her chest beats like the motor of an old thumper.
“It’s going to be dark soon, Pearl…Do you want to camp with me, tonight?”
“Yeah? Sure! You know, my parents own Camp Triggerfish, so I’m kind of a camping expert.”
“Really…!?”
As the sun fades over the Octo Canyon and valley, Marina wonders what sort of day she’ll race towards tomorrow. Maybe with Pearl, the trails ahead won’t be so lonely.