Chapter Text
There was always a way out, even if it wasn’t intuitive.
Izuku chirped at the trio of panicked dolphins to catch their attention. They called back a warning, crying louder than the growling engines at their fast-beating tails. Izuku fell in with them and chirped again, this time to give direction. He gestured for them to change course. They whined, suspicious. Izuku clicked towards the safer direction, inviting the dolphins to check the path for themselves.
When their echolocation met the empty ocean, the dolphins turned towards Izuku. He kept up a swift speed as they followed. Just to the east, the dark of the ships and the wall of their nets were closing in. The ocean floor rose to meet the nets, stirring up a cloud of sand. The dolphins’ cries now clashed against the mechanical groan.
They had a small window to clear just before the ships would start to curve in towards each other, trapping whatever was swimming away into a corner. Anything caught would be driven to shore, beached helplessly. The ships used the rocky coast to their advantage, and at this distance to the shore, it felt like they were all trapped in by walls of earth and net. But Izuku knew of an underwater arch that the ships didn’t.
The dolphins’ echolocation zeroed in on this arch, and they all burst forward, faster. The shadow of the last ship in the row fell over them, as it started to turn inwards. Izuku squeezed his eyes shut, his senses a blur of the vibrations of their escape formation. Closer, closer, almost, almost, just there, and YES!
Merman and dolphins broke through the arch just as the ship shuddered water against their backs.
Izuku exhaled in relief. This rescue was a closer call than most. He thought he had already redirected all the dolphins caught in the ships’ path, until he overheard the cries of these three stragglers. And like always, Izuku had to turn back for them.
The trio in question twirled around Izuku in appreciation, bumping and nuzzling up against him. He reciprocated their affection, and blushed at their more exaggerated praise. Now in calmer waters, it was easier to note their juvenile size. Poor calves; no wonder they fell behind.
Up ahead, they caught the calls of the other dolphins, checking in on their separated kids. The full pod closed in around the calves, protectively and apologetically. Izuku happened to get caught in the middle of the group hug. He accepted further nuzzles of gratitude from the rest of the family. He clicked in question, after each one of them, to make sure that everyone got out okay. Thank the moon and stars, they did.
But, oh shoot, speaking of celestial bodies… Izuku glanced upwards, at the shifting sunlight against the water’s surface. It was nearing midday, and Izuku swore he’d only be out for the morning. If he didn’t get back in time, then Kacchan would hunt him down, and drag him back. Again.
Warbling apologetically, Izuku waved off his new friends, and headed back.
“And how long did this rescue take?” Kacchan greeted Izuku in the open water. Looks like Izuku had been late enough that Kacchan headed out to find him. “It took all morning, didn’t it?”
He looked Izuku up and down, and finding no evidence of hunted spoils or denial, Kacchan smirked. “Ha! Thought so, you damn slowpoke. My record remains untouched!”
“Rescue is always more time consuming than sabotage,” Izuku reminded his rival, as their swimming fell into tandem - in the direction of their own pod.
Izuku nevertheless admired Kacchan’s record, and vowed to beat it one day. Though, he didn’t have near the strength to mimic Kacchan’s preferred method - cutting off massive sections of fishing line to throw into the ships’ propellers. It was insanely impressive how easily Kacchan swam against the draw of the nets and propellers alike. (And get the upper hand on any humans that got into the water to investigate the jam.)
Izuku had always been scrawnier than Kacchan, so he had to rely on observation and intervention. He’d eventually figure out how to intervene in time, so he wouldn’t have to make multiple trips like he did today. Maybe then his rescue times could rival Kacchan’s record.
Meanwhile, Kacchan kept up the practiced banter. “Quit being a sore loser. How many weaklings do you think I’ve indirectly rescued with the ships I’ve taken down?”
“Stop calling them weaklings.”
“Ah, my bad, should’ve called them idiots. How the hell do they get tricked that easy?”
Izuku rolled his eyes. “I’ve told you, the humans utilize their terrain to make escape seem futile, and unless you carefully monitor their patterns, it’s near impossible to know which way to go to get out of the way; plus the limitations of a dolphin’s echolocation makes it difficult to properly scope out that small window for escape - it’s much easier as an outside observer to-”
“Mother Ocean, I get it! Shut up!” Kacchan shoved his hands against his ears.
Izuku couldn’t help but huff in small amusement. After nineteen years by each other’s side - practically hatched from the same egg nest - Izuku knew when Kacchan was actually pissed, and when the blond was just pulling Izuku’s fin. They knew everything about each other.
Like how Kacchan knew that if he didn’t shut up Izuku up now, then an hour from now, Izuku would be ranting his throat sore about how his style of rescue tricked the boats into abandoning a hunting ground, while Kacchan’s method just meant the repaired boats returned with better defenses. Which would’ve probably led to another argument. And sure, Izuku and Kacchan didn’t mind their arguments, but the tension rarely stayed between the two of them. The two somehow had the ability to excite or upset the moods of everyone around them.
An ability that didn’t escape their notice. Now that they were no longer guppies, the rest of their pod had been recognizing the budding charisma in both young adults. Either one would make a fine leader one day.
But pods follow only one headman.
The current headman met Izuku and Kacchan upon their return. The red-orange of Mitsuki’s tail blossomed as she swam closer, mirroring her son’s colors.
“Izuku, happy to see you back safe. Your mom was just starting to fret.”
“I’m sorry,” Izuku answered, “I didn’t mean to make anyone worry. There were some complications, but everyone got out just fine.”
“A few dipshits fell behind,” Kacchan explained - from what Izuku had recounted of his rescue on their return. “And Deku wouldn’t leave them, like the bleeding heart he is.”
Mitsuki swam forward to tug at the webbing of Kacchan’s ear - which had some decent give, like cartilage. “You brat, what did I tell you about disrespecting Mother Ocean’s other children? What makes you think you can be the next headman if you don’t look after all of Mother’s Creation, huh?”
Kacchan shoved against her to pull away. “The hell are you being so dramatic for?! This is the headman position, not a fucking mer-kingdom. Why do I gotta care about the wholeass Creation?”
“This is exactly what I’m talking about!” Mitsuki continued to scold. “You don’t understand the interconnection of everything!”
Izuku flashed his rival a rueful smile before he made a quick retreat, to find and reassure his own mom.
Inko was with the rest of the pod, in their nesting grounds. The pod’s nesting grounds were tucked safely between two hills of coral reefs; deep enough to protect them from the push of the current. The reef’s wildlife had already adjusted to the merfolk’s presence, and continued to sway and flit about contentedly. Up ahead, a school of fish hovered out of range of their humanoid predators, still a plentiful number to catch.
Come the next full moon, the pod would move to a different nesting ground, in search of fresh resources. Tonight, the moon would be a waning gibbous.
Izuku settled in at his mom’s side. She welcomed him in relief, and asked about his morning. Always honest with her, he told her everything. Even as she tensed through the most suspenseful parts of the story, she smiled with warm pride. She petted Izuku’s hair in appreciation of his heroics.
“A school of tilapia passed by earlier,” she then said, pulling out a seaweed wrapped bundle. “I saved you one. You must be hungry!”
“Oh, I’m fine!” Izuku tried to say, but his stomach growled in betrayal. His face flushed as he accepted the food.
Tilapia wasn’t Izuku’s favorite (that would be swordfish, an even greater delicacy - perfectly sweet and tender). Even still, he was pleased with the catch. Since tilapia was a popular fish for humans, it was one of the merfolk’s less frequent catches, the closer they were to a country’s fishing grounds. And to respect the populations of human-favored fish, the merfolk only took little of what was available. It inadvertently became a delicacy.
In fact, Kacchan often went after the commercial fishing liners, just to ensure that merfolk got their fairshare too. He didn’t ‘waste time’ on the ships that targeted competing predators. Much to Mitsuki’s dismay, Kacchan didn’t quite understand yet why all life was worth saving.
It wasn’t something that all humans had caught onto yet, either. Well, humans were getting a little better. Hunting merfolk was now illegal by international human law, at least. Izuku was among the optimists that hoped for continued good relations with humans. Kacchan was not.
As Izuku ate, his mom checked him over again for any bumps or scrapes. He resisted the urge to wave off her attentions; he understood all too well why she worried more than most. The absence of his long-deceased father still sat uncomfortably in both of their hearts.
No, Hisashi’s absence still affected the entire pod. The family-oriented merfolk looked to Katsuki and Izuku as headman candidates for more than just their charisma; before Mitsuki, Hisashi had held the position. And while headman wasn’t strictly a hereditary title, Katsuki and Izuku had both inherited the traits that had recommended their respective parents to the position. Katsuki his mom’s confidence and strength, Izuku his dad’s intelligence and heart.
The pod had been debating fiercely for years over who they’d elect as the next headman, as Katsuki and Izuku openly competed over the position, but the pod had been slowly reaching a consensus. Not that the candidates had any idea what that current opinion was - all conversation on the topic had swiftly cut off the second Izuku had swam into the nesting grounds. It took an awkward moment before the rest of the pod picked up a different topic.
Mitsuki and Kacchan also returned to the happy non-political gossip. Still rubbing his ear-webbing, Kacchan flopped down next to Izuku. In usual merfolk habit, the two nestled in close. Well, it was habit for the two of them.
“Next time, you tell the hag what you were up to,” he complained. “I’m never covering for you again!” He eyed the half-eaten fish in Izuku’s hands, and for good measure, swiped a piece. Izuku protested half-heartedly, even as he leaned against Kacchan’s side. They both tuned out the rest of the pod’s tired teases about the rivals’ ironic affection.