Chapter Text
The Splatfest parade tore through Splatsville like a riptide of ink and sound. Frye’s float led the charge, her lithe body twisting and leaping atop the serpent-shaped platform, a tempest of energy. Below her, the crowd screamed her name, their chants mingling with the pulsating beat of the music.
From their float just behind her, Shiver watched, arms crossed and mouth set in a crooked grin. “She’s gonna eat it one of these days,” she muttered, her crimson eyes sharp, cutting through the electric haze.
Big Man chuckled beside her, his booming “Ay!” a counterpoint to the noise. "(She’s fine, boss. Look at her go!)”
And then, she wasn’t fine.
Frye’s foot slipped, her form pitching forward. For one fleeting moment, her body hung in the air like a splash frozen mid-leap. Then she plummeted, a streak of gold against the blackened sky. The thud when she hit the cobblestones cut through the music, through the screams, through everything.
Shiver didn’t hesitate. She leapt from her float, landing lightly despite the weight of her ornamental sash and blade. Big Man followed, his normally buoyant movements slow and heavy. The crowd parted, their murmurs swelling as Shiver knelt beside Frye’s crumpled body.
Blood pooled around her head, thick and dark, staining the stones beneath her. Her sharp grin was still there, but her eyes stared blankly at the towering skyscrapers above, unblinking. Shiver’s fingers brushed against Frye’s cooling cheek, and for the first time in years, her smirk faltered.
“She’s gone,” she said flatly, pulling her hand away and flicking the blood from her fingers.
Big Man’s voice trembled. “Ay... (What do we do now?)”
Shiver exhaled sharply, standing and adjusting the tanto blade at her hip. “We do what we’ve always done. We take care of each other.” Her gaze was steely, her tone sharper than any edge. “We’re not leaving her here to rot like some random squid. We take her home.”
---
The Deep Cut hideout was eerily silent as they carried Frye’s body inside. Blood had soaked through the blanket they’d wrapped her in, leaving streaks on the battered concrete floor. Her treasures; the shelves of stolen plushies, piles of sparkling trinkets, and half-finished projects, seemed to mock the stillness.
Shiver set Frye down on the table in the center of the room and looked at Big Man. “Get the rice. The seaweed. That stupid sauce she always dumped on everything. We’re doing this right.”
Big Man hesitated, his massive fins twitching. “Ay... (Are you sure we-)”
Shiver rounded on him, her sharp teeth bared. “Do you think I’d be saying this if I wasn’t? This is what the clan does, Big Man. She’d do it for us. Get moving.”
Big Man nodded, his “Ay...” low and mournful as he shuffled off to gather the supplies.
Shiver turned back to Frye, unsheathing her tanto. The blade gleamed in the dim light, its edge clean and ready. She pressed the tip to Frye’s chest and paused, her jaw tightening.
“Dumbass,” she muttered, her voice cracking. “You always had to show off, huh?” She drove the blade downward, slicing cleanly through muscle and cartilage. Blood spurted, warm and viscous, splattering across Shiver’s hands and dripping onto the floor. She worked with methodical precision, carving through flesh, separating it into manageable portions.
By the time Big Man returned, carrying a tray of ingredients, the room reeked of copper and salt. He stopped in the doorway, his eyes widening at the sight of Frye’s body in pieces.
“Ay! (Boss...)” he started, his voice wavering.
“Don’t.” Shiver didn’t look up, her hands steady as she wiped the blade clean on her sash. “Just help me finish.”
---
They worked side by side, assembling the meal with the care and artistry Frye would have demanded. Each piece of her body was wrapped in seaweed and rice, dotted with her beloved sauce. Blood still seeped from the cuts, mingling with the other ingredients, but neither of them flinched.
When the last bite was prepared, they sat cross-legged around the table, Frye’s empty chair looming between them.
Shiver poured three cups of sake, sliding one to Frye’s place. “Alright, you little stinker,” she said, lifting her cup. “Here’s to you. You were annoying as hell, reckless, and loud... And you were ours. You still are.”
Big Man raised his cup, his voice soft but firm. “Ay. (Always.)”
They ate in silence, the taste of meat and salt heavy on their tongues. Shiver chewed through the tears that threatened to choke her, her hands gripping each bite like it might break apart. Big Man moved slower, his fins shaking with every motion, but he didn’t stop.
When the meal was done, Shiver leaned back, her hands smeared with blood and sauce. “She’s with us now,” she said, her voice rough.
Big Man nodded, his gaze fixed on Frye’s empty chair. “Ay. (Forever.)”
They sat together as the first light of morning bled into the room, the echoes of Frye’s laughter still lingering in the air. Somewhere deep inside them, Frye lived on: fierce, wild, and unyielding, as much a part of them as their own souls.