Chapter Text
Fishermen and other mariners had always been regarded as a superstitious lot and in many ways they very much so were. Don’t sail on a red sunrise, and if you must, take caution. Don’t challenge the wind by whistling on board unless you’re calling on its strength to push your sails. And above all, never trust a song on the sea, a voice in the wind, or a want so deep that you feel it in your bones. The sirens never cared who they took, after all, so long as they took life.
Kirishima himself was not a particularly superstitious man but even he wasn’t immune to the warnings of others when it came to the sea. Grey skies following red morning, music at dusk… He didn’t trust those things. But one of the things he had never believed in even for a moment had been sirens, and by extension, mermaids. Mer of any kind. He thought of himself as someone heavily grounded in logic, see-it-to-believe-it, realism over fantasy. None of that logic could have ever explained what he’d experienced three weeks ago. And while superstition could? It still flew on the far side of most beliefs he was personally aware of.
Merfolk were a bizarre, illogical concept. Kirishima was go-with-the-flow of course, relaxed and easy-going. Some people thought of him as a little dumb sometimes, or maybe just simple in personality—all sunshine and smiles and very little brain behind all those good looks. Some people would in fact, be right. But only somewhat. While the redhead could absolutely be a bit of a himbo, a nice and solid piece of meat with no muscle in his cranium, he was intelligent. Very, even though he himself would tell you otherwise. And so the concept of humanoid creatures that evolved to live underwater lives and yet had somehow evaded the sight of humans for who knew how long? It didn’t make sense to him.
Except whatever he had seen three weeks ago had been very far from fish, and very far from human. It was clearly cognizant, seemed to understand Kirishima to a degree, definitely knew he was trying to be helpful. It had refrained from taking his arm off even though it seemed like it had wanted to, and then, of all things, it gifted him a giant fish as thanks. Even just thinking to himself it sounded like it was an unbelievable fisherman’s tall tale. A story of the sea. But this story had been all too real and had weighed on his mind since it happened, making him think far more and far harder about the ocean than he ever had. And as someone who survived off of the sea and lived on it part-time, that was quite a lot. Today was no different as he trawled the same general vicinity of water. He tried to never fish the same areas in the same week, wanting to do his small part to prevent over-fishing. He was always a friend of nature and a friend to the sea for as often as he could manage to be.
He was trying—and failing—not to keep looking for the same creature again. Half of him was still convinced he’d just fever-dreamed the whole thing, made it up in his mind. Like damn, had he drunk seawater and not even realized? That was wholly impossible, of course, but so were merfolk! It took a lot of his concentration to focus on his nets, keep an eye on the lines, pay attention to the rock and sway of the boat. Crimson eyes on the horizon, on the sea, on the nets, on the sea, on the booms, into the water, a flash of scales and—no. A goliath grouper and nothing more. Even with all of his nearly obsessive looking around, he’d be lucky to see so much as a curious shark. The real, normal kind that made sense and didn’t breathe the air.
It was very early when he set out and nearly 10 when he decided to turn sail, so to speak, and head back to the island. He’d had a smaller haul today, not a huge problem so long as it didn’t last. He’d break even and have food for the next couple of days and so long as the sea didn’t dry up he could fish other waters and still feed the townspeople and himself and all would be well. Sure, other fishers in town fed people. Old Lady Tsuna pulled hauls bigger than his, that was sure. She and her husband were absolute beasts when it came to productivity. The only thing Kirishima had on them was that he was always smiling or in a good mood, while Old Lady Tsuna always looked ready to box the ears of the next person who asked her about a price. Between the three of them and their farmers and game hunters, not to the mention the shipments from the mainland, they’d all be perfectly fine.
He began the process of dragging up his net and securing it so he could lift anchor and pull his vessel around. By now he wasn’t thinking quite as much about that… thing. Person? He’d seen... Met? The sea creature he’d encountered. He needed to truly focus for safety reasons and with how much he loved his job that did make this part easier. He’d secured and stowed what he needed to, sorted the last catch, and was releasing some of the catch back into the water to propagate when something large hit the hull.
Kirishima’s attention jerked toward the sound and jolt, senses on high alert. Trawlers weren’t small nor were they easy to sway but that had been something big. The last thing he needed was a shark or worse a whale to start playing around with his vessel. Beyond that he sincerely didn’t like the idea of sending the fish he was releasing to their immediate doom, cycle of life or not. He was the one who’d interfered with their home, not the other way around.
The redhead cautiously walked over to the starboard side, leaning very slightly against the gunwale because his mama hadn’t raised no fool. He’d be an idiot to lean over more that that—it was asking to be tossed into the water. He couldn’t see too far beneath that water, though it was a nice placid sea today, but he thought he caught a glimpse of scales, or something otherwise reflective. A fish, probably something big like one of those goliath groupers he’d been thinking about. It was an obvious answer, a sea creature hitting a boat in the sea, but that was better than some of the alternatives.
Having been unable to spot anything Kirishima returned to his releasable catch, ready to dip the little ladies and the few lads back into the water. He had released nearly all of the rest of them when something hit the port hull with the same amount of force as before. This time he quickly released the rest of the fish and made his way toward the opposite gunwale. This time when he looked over he made damn sure he was holding onto more than just the side of his trawler, starting to worry that a particularly feisty cetacean might be grumpy with him. Those suspicions were knocked out of the water—literally—when he saw a flash of a shark-like tail that was still unlike any other shark he’d e er heard of.
His heart was in his throat in an instance, eyes flickering over the surface of the water. He tried to be astute and to not panic. Just because he was seeing something he thought could be that thing from weeks ago didn’t mean anything. It didn’t, it just mean that a pissed off shark was hitting him. Something with a defect maybe, something— That tail, that frighteningly familiar tail, whipped out of the water and slammed into the side of the trawler once more with a wet thud. Kirishima forced himself to keep it together, thankful he worked well under duress. What in the hell was going on here? He was about to call out, maybe ask if the thing would leave him alone, when its head and torso popped up out of the water.
Same dentaldermis. Same wild slit eyes. Same wild sea-flora hair woven through human-like blonde, messy hair. Same pissed off expression. The only thing Kirishima’s brain would let him do was stare in genuine shock at the sight before him. The mer-creature, this person perhaps, was back and was real. Unless he’d taken whatever the fuck he’d had before—which was a whole lot of nothing—it was back. He couldn’t speak for a moment, voice stuck in his chest, but that didn’t matter. The second he was able to open his mouth to attempt it, the creature did it for him.
It clicked at him what he assumed was angrily, still sounding like something of a cross between a cetacean like a dolphin, maybe, and something out of a sci-fi horror flick. There were chirps and noises he couldn’t have explained intermingled within that strange language and once again Kirishima could have sworn he was being scolded.
“Uh hey there big guy.” His voice was slightly uncertain but no less friendly than it always was. “Am I invading your home or something? I didn’t mean to but I was just about to clear out!” Why the hell was he talking to this thing like it could understand him? This time Kirishima stayed planted in his spot, not getting to much closer to the gunwale lest the creature lash out and smack the shit out of him or his boat, sending his overboard—or giving him a concussion. Shark skin was incredibly rough. If you could even call it shark skin.
Then the creature lifted itself up and out of the water to grab onto the side of the trawler’s gunwale, glaring at Kirishima right in the eye. With it supporting itself like that the redhead could see it was huge, definitely bigger than he’d realized. Its tail was an easy six feet long, adding to its sleek power that was nearly serpentine. Just one ventral fin was bigger than his open hand. His top half was that of what would be comparable to a shorter human man, making his muscles stand out more, especially against his smooth-looking dentaldermis. An easy eight feet if not more. And it was looking him right in the eye with that angry and belligerent expression.
It clicked at him some more and then made an almost growling noise. Kirishima paid attention to the sounds, hearing some repetition in what could be called syllables. It intrigued him and he couldn’t help but smile somehow, even through the wary fear. He was jarred from his thought as the creature hissed at him and he snapped his attention back into reality. It nodded toward his actual haul, the catch he hadn’t protectively released, and then nodded back to the sea behind him.
“Do you… Want me to let the fish go?” That would definitely be a problem since he couldn’t make a living off of nothing. “Sorry big guy but I can’t really do that, people need to eat.” He doubted it could understand him of course, but neither could dogs, so.
The… blonde, he supposed, narrowed his eyes as his nictating membrane flicked closed and then open to hydrate his aquatic eyes. He then repeated the gesture, nodding at the fish and then back over his shoulder, or perhaps… Toward himself? “Oh shit, you hungry? Did you want some fish?” Kirishima asked, blinking widely. Huh, they had the same color eyes he’d just realized. Neat.
He got clicked at again and rather than angry the thing sounded more like he was grumpy. So he took the hint and went over to his catch, grabbed a couple of decent sized fish by the gill slits, and walked them back to the sea creature.
The sound of the thing’s caudal fin slapping the underside of the ship was both unnerving and kind of endearing. Man, this thing really was being pushy huh? But Kirishima was maybe a bit reckless in that he was walking over to something he couldn’t possibly protect himself from to give him a pair of tiredly flopping and fighting fish. “Is this what you wanted?” he asked as he slowly approached since he wasn’t entirely an idiot. This time rather than clicking, the blonde chirped at him and sank a little further into the water so his eyes were nearly level with the gunwale. It was almost comical and definitely would be cute if it wasn’t such a potentially dangerous situation. (Then again, bears were cute too. This thing was definitely sort of cute in an oddly human yet oddly animalistic way.)
“Here ya go.” He held out one of the fish, not quite reaching far enough that he was in immediate danger. He was stiff as a board, ready to spring out of the way if he needed to, concerned for his and the creature’s safety. He tried not to flinch and a half-webbed, sharply clawed hand reached out and snatched that fish from his grasp so hard that the gill slit sliced his hand open.
“Ah shit fuck-!” He pulled back sharply, dropping the other poor fish on the ground as he stared at the blood on his palm slowly beginning to splash the floor of the trawler. Fuck that was a bad cut. He had a first aid kit but who knew what sorts of diseases or bacteria this thing carried. Kirishima glanced over at the creature, having expected it to bolt when he moved to fast and swore too loud, but instead it was just holding the fish in its sharp teeth and watching him. When it dove under the water with its lunch he assumed he wouldn’t see it again today.
He was halfway through disinfecting his hand, hissing and swearing under his breath in pain, when the sound of a caudal fin smacking his ship happened. It was honestly starting to become kind of familiar at this stage. Wary and much more cautious this time, Kirishima looked up and over to the starboard side once more, knowing who and what he’d see. What he didn’t expect, though, was for the thing to be holding what looked to be woven kelp or sea grass in one hand, a foul-smelling goo on top of it.
“Wh… I don’t eat the kinda food you guys do if that’s what you’re trying to do?” Kirishima wasn’t angry with the thing; an animal was going to do what it was going to do. It felt a bit reductive to call him an animal but then, humans were animals too. But astonishingly the creature gestured with its head and then held the woven grass out like it was expecting him to take it.
With a weary sigh Kirishima walked over, trying to figure out how to explain what he meant to something and someone that didn’t speak Japanese, or presumably any other human tongue. “Thanks but I can’t do anything with it. It’s a nice gesture though.” He smiled a little, wondering if maybe it was tit for tat or what. But then the thing shook its head at him—had it, he, understood?—and held the sea grass out again.
“I dunno how to explain this uh… He was still bleeding, too. “Let me get this cleaned up,” he gestured to his split-open palm, “and I can talk okay?” As he went to turn around though he got chirped at.
Looking back over his shoulder he could see the thing leaning against the gunwale to support its weight since it wasn’t holding on with both hands. It gestured to its side and the redhead could see a scar where his hook has sunk into flesh and dermis. Just as he was wondering what communication was being attempted the thing took what it was holding and placed it near that scar, taking a small bit of the foul-smelling goop onto a finger and smearing it there.
“Oh… Oh! Is it a bandage?” Kirishima’s eyes lit up excitedly. Woah, was this honest to god a gesture of apology or something?! Complex social interactions indeed, he’d been very right about thinking that three weeks ago! “Uh I don’t think I can put that stuff on my hand but thank you!”
He got blinked at once, twice, and then chirped at with an annoyed tone. But Kirishima turned and grabbed the peroxide he’d been dousing his hand in to show the… The mer, that he was cleaning it already. “See this?” He gestured to the brown bottle. “This is like that.” He pointed at the bandage, if that’s what it was, the creature was holding. “I’ve already got some stuff for it but thank you!”
The blonde creature looked to the peroxide bottle then its own bundle of grass, seeming to slowly be processing what Kirishima was pantomiming to him. Then it lowered itself into the water and again the redhead thought that was the last of it but he popped up again. This time he had the seaweed and no goop on top of it. He gestured, thrusting his arm out again, and god Kirishima couldn’t help but grin. Ho-ly shit this thing totally understood communication through things like gestures.
“I’ve got human bandages I can use, don’t worry!” He showed him those as well, miming wrapping it around his hand. The mer looked annoyed once more, like it was pissed that all of its gestures were being denied. “Sorry but I can’t use those kinda things, it could make me real sick. Ah I dunno how to explain that one…”
Then the blonde dropped the bandage it had been holding back into the water and held its hand out, palm flat and facing upward. It nodded once, then again to the roll of bandages Kirishima had in his good hand, hooked onto a finger by the cardboard circle it was wrapped around.
“U-Uh you want the, bandages?” Kirishima held it up and the mer shook his hand demandingly. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, it could hurt you or make one of the fishies sick.” Except he got chirped at sharply, and then a sound he couldn’t describe, and the blonde thrust his arm out further. “What the fuck okay. Uh.”
Maybe his mama had raised a fool after all because Kirishima pulled out a small length of gauze wrap and tore it off with his teeth. Then he set the peroxide and roll down and walked over to the creature carefully. “You wanna try?” he asked as he very carefully held the length of gauze out. It was enough to wrap around a hand once, which was enough to harm sea life, but he wasn’t really sure what else to do.
The mer snatched the gauze from Kirishima’s hand and looked at it, claws easily sinking into the material. Again, despite the situation and the possibility of a bad infection, the redhead couldn’t help but let a puff of laughing breath out through his nose. He got a glare in return and flashed him a bright grin.
Kirishima put a gauze pad on his gash while still watching the mer, letting it—him—see what he was doing. Then he began to wrap the self-adhering gauze around that. He’d have to go get the medical tape to secure it but that wouldn’t be an issue. This thing seemed super interested as it watched him. As he looked up he grinned even wider because the sight he met was honestly fucking fantastic.
The mer was wrapping the gauze around his palm. Except Kirishima had only given him a small piece to make it slightly safer so he growled, clicked, chirped sharply, and then wrapped it around his wrist twice. When it stuck to itself he looked it over a few times, curiosity twinkling in those slit eyes of his in the most human-like way.
“Yeah there you go! Kinda like the seaweed right?” The redhead’s tone was excited and kind of proud like one would be when a child, perhaps, understood something an adult didn’t expect them to, or like when a friend caught onto something really quickly. “This’ll keep my blood in me where it’s supposed’ta be and keep it safe until I get home.”
The mer looked at him like he was listening and trying to decode the Japanese Kirishima spoke, nictating membrane blinking but not his eyelids. How strange, by the way, that it had both despite being aquatic. Still… It clearly had gills and lungs so perhaps that shouldn’t be so surprising. He fiddled with the gauze wrapped on his wrist, making a displeased face as it easily tore against his sharp claws, then looked back up to Kirishima. He gestured toward the fish again with his head, then used his wrapped hand to point at them, and then to himself. Again? Holy fucking shit.
“You uh kinda split me open last time,” Kirishima said with a small laugh, holding up his palm and pointing to the fish as well. But the mer clicked and made a sort of chattering sound with his teeth and pointed more firmly.
He sighed and walked back over to his haul, picking up a smaller fish this time. It was safest to hold it by the damn gill slit but the last thing he needed was to have both of his hands cut wide open. “Here, but you have to be nicer this time yeah?” He held the fish out much more slowly and from a further distance this time.
It absolutely amazed him when the mer, because that was the only thing it could be and apparently he was resigned to that fact, reached out and very carefully lifted the gill slit from Kirishima’s hand. He didn’t even move quickly until the fish was well away from the human, at which point he shoved the thing’s back into his mouth and bit down hard with his sharp teeth. It stopped struggling instantly, dead before its tail flopped one final time. Gruesome, but efficient. Not like he himself wouldn’t be dispatching fish too.
“Thanks dude my hand and I appreciate it,” Kirishima laughed once more. For someone in such a foreign situation that should have been impossible who’d been wounded by a creature that supposedly shouldn’t exist, he was pretty damn relaxed. Maybe it was that phenomenon where people just accepted insane shit to keep from going crazy themselves, like the guy in that one movie about the magical creatures or whatever. “Now everyone gets a bandage and gets to eat haha!”
The blonde creature looked him over slowly, then looked at the fish in his hand, then looked at the haul. With a single chirp he shoved himself off of the gunwale and into the water, turning so he could dive deep into the water. He gave a powerful slash of his tail, one that sent him deep into the water with those muscular, sinuous movements… And completely fucking soaked Kirishima once again with the massive splash it caused. Talk about a farewell.
Honestly? He just sort of stayed there for a few minutes. Kirishima couldn’t even believe what had happened and not only had he literally been the one it happened to but now he had a wound that would definitely scar over. They matched now, he guessed, and in both cases it had been an accident. In both cases, too, reparations had been made. This was an amazing experience, one he was sure no one else had had. He was floored. Absolutely flabbergasted and amazed. He had full-on communicated with and interacted with something straight out of literal folklore. Literal tall tales from fishermen. Apparently they weren’t so far-fetched after all! Good fucking god he was definitely going to have to tell the guys about this encounter, too. And they could believe or disbelieve him, Kirishima couldn’t care less about that outcome, because he knew it was real, just like he’d known last time.
It was with a bounce in his step and stars in his eyes that Kirishima finished dressing his wound and got things ready to turn back for the market and then home once more. His spirits had been lifted through the roof and he was already a pretty enthusiastic guy. Once again he would be thinking about this all day, he thought to himself. Once again he’d stay bewildered and intrigued. And once again, he mused as he finally got back onto the path home, he’d wonder and wonder and wonder if he’d ever see him again—that strange merperson who had demanded food from him like it was owed to him. The same merperson who had thanked him twice now, which to be blunt was more than some of the humans Kirishima knew. Man… What a life he lived. He couldn’t wait to tell Denki and Sero about it once again.