u.a. merfolk sanctuary

by FeralAutisticDragon

Summary:

bakugou was raised in a box. thirty six gallons of poorly filtered water, an oval of glass walls, and a hiding structure made of plastic and concrete. a diet of meat slurry that didnt make him feel full and a list of songs he had to sing daily if he didnt want to be turned into chow for the hammerheads. when the green haired boy who visited every friday and always snuck him a dango moved away his only friend became the shrimp that ate the algae off the walls. it was loud and eyes were always on him and his stomach always hurt. but it was all he knew. but now, he's been rescued and he has a whole bay to explore. and the human that sticks needles in him every other saturday looks oddly familiar.

Chapter 1: i am katsuki, i live in a box

I am Katsuki. I live in a box. or, more accurately, a tube. a tube with exactly thirty-six gallons of water in it. I know, it's on the plaque that the tour lady reads. I know it seems like a lot, but that is not enough water for an eight and a half foot long merperson. it's not even enough for a five-foot-long hammerhead. it doesn't help that my tube is taller than it is wide and there is a big structure in the center. it looks exactly like the castle from the rip-off little mermaid they play in the aquarium's cafeteria: bright blue with pink plastic plants. the other tanks get real green plants, which isn't fair. the hammerheads don't even eat plants. the real plants look delicious, way better than the slop they feed me, which tastes like death and has sharp bits of bone in it and doesn't fill me up.

when I was younger my tube felt bigger, because I was smaller. I had room to swim. I actually thought it was nice, back then. singing didn't hurt my voice as much, either. I was even better nourished, because the human children having birthday parties would sneak me their leftovers. things like Chirashizushi and tofu and mochi. those things actually took away the gnawing feeling in my insides. it's because of those kids I even know what being full feels like. they don't give me snacks anymore. I'm in my twenties now, it's not appropriate. that or they're scared of me now that I have sharp teeth.

the thing I miss most about when I was small is the boy with green hair. I don't remember his name. I never remember names. they're pointless, and the humans really care if I remember or not. but he was nice to me. he would come every Friday and feed me dango while the guards weren't looking and he'd run around the outside of my tube while i chased him. he was nice, so nice it somehow made the staff seem even meaner. then, one day, he ran up to my tank crying and saying he was going to the United States, wherever that is. I asked when he was coming back. he said he didn't know. and then he never came again. stupid idiot, I miss him. sometimes I lay awake at night, wondering what he looks like now. is he tall? taller than how tall I would be as a human? muscular? did he stay paler than a stingray's belly, or did he finally get a little tanner? all very good questions, but ones I do not enjoy thinking about when I'm trying to sleep.

humans confuse me. they are so angry, so cruel, so vicious (I'm angry too, but you'd be too if you spent your entire life in the same place), and yet with their little ones they are so protective. gentle, kind. the staff say my mother left me on the shore to dry up as an egg. they found me and stuck me in the tube. as a mercy. they say I should be thankful. but how can I be thankful for my tiny tube? how can I be thankful for the humans that threaten to feed me to the hammerheads if I don't sing until my throat bleeds every week? how can I be thankful for this life, if you can call it a life at all?

maybe one day I'll learn to appreciate what I have.

Chapter 2: I say something I shouldn't

I sang today, like I do every day. some song about a navy veteran, rip-off "under the sea", "fight song" by Rachel Platten, and finally the big number: an original song they call "eye of the storm". it's about freedom. the irony makes me sick, or maybe just the malnutrition. either way, I forced a smile as the kids tumble out of the cafeteria to go manhandle the touch tanks before the joint closes. but... someone stays. a woman, around my age. dark hair, punk outfit. not the type of person to be interested in a children's birthday party. when I was a teen, older siblings of the kids would sometimes stay behind and flirt with me, but I had no interest in getting dirty with someone who was ok with my living conditions. the woman walked over.

"Hey. name's Jirou. want my leftovers? i heard online that we were allowed to feed you" she says. she holds out a rice ball

"That was twenty years ago" I quip

"Do you want a onigiri or not?"

I take it. it doesn't smell like death. it smells like salt and sweetness and rice. it tastes like all those things, as well as a hint of spice I wasn't expecting

"So, what's it like here" she asks, making small talk.

"mhmm... tube could be bigger. kinda wish they'd give me human food instead of whatever the gross stuff they usually give me is made of"

"Oh. is there something wrong with the seaweed they give you?"

"Seaweed? I wish. they give me this slop. it's pink and it smells like death, and it has little crunch white things that hurt my tongue. the taste is even worse. like when you lose a tooth and lick the inside to make sure it's not bloody" I pick my teeth casually as I say it, but she looks disturbed.

"They... feed you meat for every meal?"

"Oh, so THAT'S why it smells like death"

"But... aren't you a redbelly piranha?"

"Apparently, yeah. why does that matter? aren't piranhas bloodthirst swarming murder minnows?"

"no... no, that's a misconception. the incident that started that rumor was orchestrated by native south Americans to show off to the American president. those piranhas had been starved for weeks. in the wild, red belly piranhas are mostly herbivorous"

"Huh. well, I'm not dead yet, so I don't see the point in changing it"

"...thanks for the chat" with that, she left.

-----------------------------

the humans in the suits came up to me later that day, growling. they yelled at me. I didn't really process it. something about betraying them. whatever that was about, they put cloth over the outside of my tube. huh. maybe they're finally putting actual seaweed in.

Chapter 3: in which i am moved to an even smaller tank

so... turns out Jirou wasn't just some chick.

a week after she showed up, she returned with a very angry blond man with stupid sunglasses and a bunch of burly men in waterproof clothes. the people in suits got handed a bunch of papers, which they were very mad about. i got picked up by four guys and loaded into a tank in the back of a truck. nobody told me what happened. it was small, had no windows, and the walls were blue. we drove for a few hours, then we stopped. Jirou peeked over the edge, holding what appeared to be a green brick.

"Dinner time, fish man"

"can you tell me what the heck is going on?"

"after you eat" she tossed the brick in the water.

"what the heck is this?"

"dried sea grapes, some kelp, acai powder, dried mango, corn meal, and a bit of protein powder, baked into a puck for easy storage. it's the only thing we got right now"

I grabbed it and began gnawing on it. it was AMAZING. it was sweet and flakey and didn't taste like metal or have hidden sharp bits. i devoured it in three bites.

"can i have another?"

"ha, sure"

i ate three of those little pucks. my stomach had never hurt less before.

"so. you asked about what was going on"

"yeah. the loud blond guy wont really tell me."

"well... turns out your old home wasnt up to code. so we're taking you somewhere better"

"JIROU! tank is FULL! lets get this show on the ROAD, girlypop!"

"coming, mister yamada"

and just like that, we were driving again