Chapter Text
Weak morning light filtered through Izuku's closed eyelids. He stretched languidly and opened his eyes, shooing away a gaggle of fish and shrimp that had been cleaning him in his sleep.
He tried to free himself from the hammock without disturbing his mother, but she had always been a light sleeper.
Green eyes that matched his own slid open, pupils dilated in the dim light.
"You're up early," she murmured.
"I saw more urchins moving into the kelp garden," he sighed. "They must be breeding like crazy."
"Well at least they taste delicious! I'll take care of the ones in the garden. Why don't you clear out the surrounding area today?"
Izuku trilled in agreement, brushing against her side as they prepared for the day. They worked in easy harmony, stretching their fins, gathering tools, and snacking on mouthfuls of shellfish and kelp.
Izuku secured his foraging bags around his waist as his mother checked his hair for parasites or algae growth. He gave a low hum of contentment as her claws lightly scratched his scalp.
They always did a more thorough grooming in the evenings, but the morning check-ins were important.
Once she was satisfied with his cleanliness, Izuku pulled back the netting that covered the cave's entrance.
His mother had been reluctant to repurpose human fishing tools, but the results had been well worth it. The net kept larger creatures out, while smaller ones could pass in and out at their leisure.
They both hovered at the mouth of the cave, warily scanning their surroundings.
The humans had been more active recently. Boats often troubled the water overhead and strange metal objects wandered through the currents. They seemed harmless enough, but sometimes Izuku swore they were following him.
But after a few minutes without signs of predators or ships, his mother gave him a nod.
"Just don't go beyond the hijiki patch," she reminded him, glancing nervously at the surface. "I saw another one of those devices yesterday. We should stay close until they go away."
"I'll be careful," Izuku chirped, nuzzling her reassuringly.
Then, with a wave, he glided out of their sheltered cave, heading into the swaying fronds of the kelp forest.
He wound through the stalks, enjoying the familiar feeling of seaweed against his scales. Greenish beams shone down from the surface, painting the ocean floor in shifting shades of light.
Izuku had lived in the kelp forest for as long as he could remember.
Mama said that she used to live with a bigger colony, but left shortly after he was born. Humans often targeted large groups, so she thought it would be safer for them to live alone. Other mers passed through from time to time, but usually it was just the two of them shepherding their underwater forest.
Their territory stretched for miles, but he was sure that he had only explored a tiny portion of it.
On his route, Izuku passed over their largest kelp garden. Soon, his mother would arrive to pluck out any damaged or diseased plants, as well as remove any grazers who had wandered in during the night.
Cultivating seaweed was a never-ending battle, but it kept their diet balanced.
But today, he was ready to tackle the urchins. Once he got past the garden, it didn't take long to find signs of their devastation.
Bundles of kelp stalks floated at the surface, each one severed by its base. The rocks below were covered in barren patches, stripped of plant life. And amidst it all, spiny creatures carpeted the sea floor.
He sighed at the sheer number of them, knowing that there must be even more hiding between the rocks. But if he didn't keep them at bay, they would spread further and further, eating everything in their path.
Izuku set to work, using a hook that he had fashioned from scrap metal. He expertly scraped the urchins into a basket, pushing them down until the weave was bulging.
A school of curious fish gathered around him as they recognized what he was doing. Their mouths nipped gently at his hands and arms as he worked.
Grinning at their enthusiasm, he broke an urchin against a nearby rock. The fish swarmed, darting around each other to get a taste of the bright orange flesh.
Izuku chittered in amusement, gathering up his haul and leaving while they were distracted.
Now he had to dispose of his load before collecting more. In the past, they used to dump urchins at the drop-off, where they floated down to the depths. But he couldn't risk traveling that far today.
So for now, he simply swam to the surface and began breaking the urchins open, one by one. Fish swam up to enjoy the feast, while sea birds dove from above.
Everyone was happy with the arrangement... except for the urchins of course.
As he dove back down to resume his work, a new shape moved at the edge of his vision. He reached for the knife at his waist, fins flared. But instead, a large sea otter twisted toward him, eyes shining with playful curiosity.
He let out a sigh of relief, gills fluttering.
Apparently he wasn't the only one gathering urchins today.
“Hungry?” he offered, holding up a fresh one.
The otter darted forward and gleefully snatched the spiny treat from his hands. It twirled around him, nuzzling his hands hopefully. He giggled as the whiskered snout tickled his arms.
“Sorry, you'll have to catch the rest on your own,” he laughed.
Realizing that Izuku had nothing more to offer, the otter gripped its prize and swooped toward the surface. Izuku watched it go, grateful to have a partner in his endless fight against the urchins.
But as the otter reached the surface, it suddenly turned and darted away.
As if something had spooked it.
A moment later, a ripple ran through the surrounding wildlife. Fish darted for cover and crabs slunk underneath rocks. Izuku felt it too — an unnatural disturbance in the water.
Acting on instinct, he immediately abandoned his work and hurried to find cover. The nearest hiding place was a huge cluster of swaying kelp. He pressed himself into the fronds, trusting his green coloration to help him blend in.
For a moment, nothing seemed to move. Then, a huge shadow passed overhead.
Izuku sucked in a sharp breath, feeling a shiver that had nothing to do with the sudden lack of sunlight. Anything that was big enough to create a shadow like that was dangerous.
Izuku peeked through the gaps in the kelp, trying to remain calm.
It was probably just a whale or a passing boat. Human fishermen, most likely. Sure enough, he soon felt the low rumble of an engine humming in his chest.
Izuku gripped his knife firmly.
The humans were probably after easier prey, like the schools of yellowtail. And even if they did try to catch him, his mother had taught him how to fight back. He just had to wait until they moved on.
But instead, the engine shut off. The ship came to a halt above him, rolling with the surface waves.
Izuku's fins fluttered nervously, ears pricked for approaching danger. An unnatural silence filled the kelp forest as the boat lingered like a storm cloud.
But instead of a splash or the groan of machines, a voice broke the silence.
“Where are you little one?”
Izuku froze, his gills failing to pull in oxygen.
He had never heard a voice like this before. It was deep, with a dangerous undertone that left him tense and trembling.
“Come out, come out wherever you are,” the voice cooed. “I won’t hurt you.”
Izuku tightened his grip on the knife hilt, fins poised for flight.
The voice must belong to a fellow mer, but everything about it was foreign to him. The words felt overly smooth, making it difficult to distinguish each word. Where had this mer come from?
With the ship maintaining its silent vigil overhead, he could now hear the faint sounds of a powerful body brushing through the kelp. It was nearby and circling closer and closer.
Izuku took shallow breaths.
He couldn't leave his hiding spot now! What if this new mer was predatory? He would instantly mark himself as a target if he left his safe haven now.
But he couldn't stay forever either, especially with the boat lurking above him. They might be scanning for life forms right now, preparing reinforced nets that couldn't be cut by mer knives.
As he spiraled into a panic, the voice spoke again.
“What’s a little guppy like you doing out here all alone? You should know that the open water is a dangerous place…”
Izuku barely repressed a squeak of terror as the mer glided past his hiding place. He caught a glimpse of the intruder through the gaps in the leaves.
The mer was the biggest he had ever seen. A powerful shark tail cut through the water with deadly grace that stirred up the kelp fronds in his wake. Izuku could practically feel the hunting instinct of the creature vibrating through the water.
He knew he didn’t stand a chance in a fight against this opponent. His best option was to flee, but he couldn’t bring himself to forsake the cover of the kelp. Maybe the mer would go away if he just-
“Found you!”
The shark mer lunged into the kelp patch, teeth bared and hands outstretched.
Izuku bolted.
He tore away from his hiding place, shooting through the water like a sailfish.
He didn’t dare to look back as he wove through rocks, coral formations, and thick kelp patches. His whole body was screaming at him to get away, but he could hear the mer laughing behind him, keeping pace with his mad dash.
“You’re a quick one!”
The mer shot up alongside him, forcing him to swerve left. His shark tail whipped sideways, creating a powerful current that knocked him off course.
Izuku spun through the water, his vision a confusing swirl of teeth, kelp, and sunlight.
His foraging bag snagged on something, and he tore it off without thinking. Unable to get his bearings, but still overwhelmed by terror, he blindly surged forward. Adrenaline burned through his body, urging him to swim faster.
Suddenly, he slammed to a halt as he collided with a wiry, entangling mass.
It was a net.
Izuku screamed, thrashing against the fine weave. The more he struggled, the faster the net wrapped around him. It snagged his fins, pulling some taught, while others were bent or crushed at painful angles.
His breath came in frantic gasps as the net tightened around his chest and gills. Vision obscured by silvery threads, he tried to maneuver his knife to cut himself loose. But before he could begin the attempt, a large clawed hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling the knife away.
"Ah, ah, ah. Don't do anything reckless now."
Izuku choked on a sob as the voice purred in his ear. He craned his neck at a painful angle, trying to see the source of the voice.
The unfamiliar mer appeared in front of Izuku, red eyes gleaming playfully.
In the open water, Izuku could fully appreciate his intimidating size and build. He was the largest mer that he had ever seen, with pale skin that merged into a dark tail. Rows of sharp teeth gleamed in the greenish light.
As Izuku stared at him, his fear congealed into cold certainty.
He was going to die.
The fishermen would never even get a chance to haul him to the surface before this mer ate his fill. His ears were ringing with terror, but he distantly hoped that his mother wasn't watching.
He wanted to give her that much comfort at least.
“My my, what have we here?” the mer crooned. “It looks like a little guppy got caught in a net.”
He smiled toothily, eyes trailing over Izuku's ensnared form.
It felt pointless to beg, but he had to try.
"P-please," he whispered. "I can help you find other food. As much as you want!"
The shark mer tilted his head and grinned.
"There's no need for that."
He advanced, clawed hands reaching for him. Izuku squeezed his eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to watch the mer rip him apart.
Instead, a gentle touch caressed his face.
“Oh, you poor thing. Don’t you know you need to look where you’re going?” the mer chided.
Izuku opened his eyes, heart still pumping madly in his chest.
The mer was inches away from him, cupping his face with a clawed hand. He turned Izuku's face from side to side, examining him closely.
Izuku just blinked at him, dumbfounded by this turn of events.
The mer began to circle him, occasionally reaching out to caress a fin or run a hand through his hair. When he didn’t make any move to attack, Izuku decided to risk a question.
“Aren't you going to eat me?” he croaked.
The mer threw back his head and laughed.
“Eat you? What nonsense. I could never hurt a precious little thing like you."
Hope sparked in Izuku's chest.
The mer was huge and he looked very strong. He was still holding Izuku's knife as well! If they moved fast, perhaps he could get free of the net before the fishermen hauled it up.
"Can you help me get out?" he asked, wiggling pointlessly against his bindings.
"Hmmm, I don't know... you've really tangled yourself up," he replied, sweeping the knife through the water with practiced ease. "Besides, what has you in such a rush? I know I may look scary, but I merely wanted to introduce myself."
Izuku looked at him incredulously. Did he not see the net and the boat looming overhead?
Shaking himself, he urged,
"We can talk after we get away from here! They might pull up the net any moment!"
The mer hummed thoughtfully, trailing the spots on Izuku's tail with a clawed finger.
"Don't fret Izuku. They won't pull it up until I tell them to."
He froze.
"Until you tell them... What are you talking about? And how do you know my name? I've never seen you before!"
"No, I suppose you haven't. I’ve been watching you for a while, though. You know, you look just like my dear little brother,” he sighed, a dreamy look in his eyes. “Except for the coloration, of course. You’re about as green as a fresh bed of seagrass.”
Izuku just stared at him, fear creeping into his heart with every word.
"What do you want?" he whispered.
"I think the real question is, what do you want?" the mer replied. "Do you want to keep living out in this wasteland? Scavenging for food every day, always looking over your shoulder for poachers and predators? Or would you rather go somewhere where you will never feel pain or hunger again?"
A shiver ran through Izuku at these words.
Death was the only place where hunger and pain didn't exist. This mer must like to play with his food, convincing himself that it was a mercy to kill.
Apparently taking his silence as agreement, the mer clapped his hands together.
“Precisely!” he mused. "Look at you, alone out here in the open water. Anyone could snatch a little guppy like you up! It's clear that you need someone to take care of you."
“Give me my knife back and I'll show you how well I can take care of myself,” Izuku snapped back, irritated by the childish nickname.
“So feisty!” the mer laughed. “But you'll learn in time. Every mer does! They all think that living in the wild is better, but that's because they simply can't imagine a better future."
He moved closer, red eyes shining hungrily.
"And your future is the brightest one of them all."
He reached up and tugged on the net three times. From overhead, the sound of machinery ground to life.
Izuku’s blood ran cold as he realized what the mer was doing.
“No, you can’t! Get me out of here! I’m not alone — I have a family!”
“They must be quite careless if they let a little morsel like you roam the open ocean. Don’t worry. I’ll take much better care of you."
He reached toward Izuku and pulled him into a hug as the net began to rise. The fibers pressed into his skin, leaving harsh indents.
"You're going to love living with me! I've got everything a guppy needs."
"No!" Izuku screamed, fighting against his bindings. "Get away from me!"
"Shh, settle down. Nobody is going to hurt you."
Izuku yelped as something sharp pricked his neck.
"It's okay," the mer soothed. "Just a little something to help you calm down. We'll be home before you know it."
The net continued to rise with an unstoppable motion. He screamed and thrashed, but only succeeded in tangling himself up even worse.
His vision grew blurry as whatever he had been injected with started to take over. The colors of the scene bled together, merging with red eyes and the blinding sunbeams.
With paralyzed horror, Izuku looked down as the kelp forest shrank below him. He was being pulled away from the only home he had ever known, trapped in the arms of an unfamiliar mer.
"Let's go home little one," the large mer cooed, pressing a kiss into Izuku's tangled hair.
Everything went dark as they breached the surface.