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Kyouka doesn’t know why she agreed to come swimming, she doesn’t even like the beach. Well- okay, she does know she just isn’t happy about it. The fact a couple of idiots (and Bakugou) have her so tightly wrapped around their fingers is really annoying. Especially when it means she gets dragged off to things like this.
It’s not as if they’re truly hanging out either. Everyone is out swimming with Bakugou coming with despite clearly not wanting to just in case something goes wrong (they both know that their friends aren’t that stupid. He’s just overprotective). Meanwhile, Kyouka is sitting on some rocks by the shallows, strumming at her acoustic. Usually, she prefers the electric route but it never hurts to practice with something softer every once in a while (another lie, it actually hurts quite a bit. So do all string instruments though, Kyouka’s fingers have calloused over a long time ago).
“My heart is set and I won’t- ugh.”
One thing she’d failed to account for however was just how difficult it would be to play on water-slicked rocks. She doesn’t want to sit in the sand and get it all over her but she keeps sliding on the rocks and it’s causing her fingers to slip on the neck of the guitar, a high-pitched twanging sound letting out each time. Technically she could just ignore it and continue but it keeps happening and Kyouka finds herself frustrated when she knows she could be doing better.
The rock isn’t exactly comfortable either. It’s slimy, sticking to her exposed skin and getting her shorts all wet. She had a bathing suit underneath so technically it was fine but… it just was uncomfortable. She can’t focus on the music and it’s making her more and more irritated as time goes on. Kyouka has no idea why people say the beach is relaxing when all it does is make you uncomfortable and frustrated.
She gets up, ready to give up and just go wait in the car when suddenly there’s a voice sounding behind her, deep and accented with something she can’t put her finger on. “Where are you going?”
Startled, Kyouka turns. Instead of gaining more clarity, however, she just blinks in shock, wondering if she’d somehow gotten heatstroke and was starting to see things. She must have because mermaids didn’t exist and yet she was seeing one poking its head out of the water and staring right at her. It (he?) had light lavender eyes with slitted pupils, short and wild purple hair growing out of his head to match the dark violet scales littering his body. Kyouka could make out sharp teeth and elongated fingernails too, ears and inner-fingers webbed while the end of a tail splashed periodically out of the water. “What the fuck?”
“Where are you going?” He asks again, ignoring her shock. The words come out strange, warped, but Kyouka can still make them out somehow.
“I- it’s too wet to play,” then, “mermaids aren’t- what?”
“I’m a siren,” he corrects, as if that answers any of her questions. Then (and Kyouka really does start to believe she’s lost it here) he’s lifting his hand and water is rising into the air in the form of tiny droplets, from the rock, from her, even from the ocean around the rock that had been spraying the water in the first place. Acting as if this is all just normal the siren throws the water behind him and back into the ocean, an obviously unnatural ring of sand surrounding the rock Kyouka had been playing on before. “Is this good?”
“I… guess? But why-”
“You’re interesting and I like you’re singing.”
Taken aback, Kyouka finds herself unable to respond. There’s an embarrassed fluttery feeling swirling in her stomach as she climbs onto the rock again, this time able to gain a good grip on the neck of her guitar. The siren leans against one of the smaller rocks, head resting in his arms as he looks up to her. The attention only makes her more embarrassed and Kyouka is positive by now that she must be bright red (and it’s not because of the sun).
Clearing her throat, Kyouka begins to play.