The forest was unusually quiet that day, the air heavy with the scent of damp grass. Katsuki Bakugo, warrior prince of the dragon lineage, had been roaming the outskirts of his mother’s territory on a solo patrol.

His skin gleamed faintly in the filtered sunlight, though his boots were dust-streaked and the straps of his sword scabbard rubbed against his shoulder as he moved.

Kirishima, ever loyal and towering in his human form, followed a few paces behind, keeping a watchful eye.

The path narrowed near the edge of a cliff overlooking the sparkling ocean, and Bakugo’s instincts immediately went on high alert.

Something—or rather someone—was near.

He caught it first in his nose: a strange, briny sweetness that made his stomach tighten, a scent that didn’t belong in the forest.

Kirishima tilted his head, glancing at Bakugo. Bakugo snapped, teeth gritting. “Something’s… off.” He stalked forward, eyes scanning the undergrowth, until movement caught his attention near a small tide pool that crept inland from the cliffside waters.

The figure crouched there seemed human—small, lithe, hair plastered to the skin, clothes damp—but there was a strange, otherworldly aura about them. Bakugo’s eyes narrowed.

The scent hit him again, stronger now, unmistakable: sea salt, faint kelp, something wild and alien, layered beneath a human warmth. His nose twitched.

“You’re not… just a traveler,” he muttered, voice low and sharp. “Something about you… smells like the sea.”

You looked up at him, cautious but calm, and Bakugo’s sharp instincts honed in on every detail—the way your hair clung wet to your skin, the subtle shimmer in your eyes, the faint trace of brine that clung to your clothes.

Not many humans carried that scent, and definitely none that wandered forests alone.

“Mermaid,” he said under his breath, though no one else could hear. The realization hit him like a strike of lightning.

Of course—you had been in human form on land, blending in, but scent never lies. You were a mermaid.

Kirishima’s eyes widened slightly behind him. “Bakugo…” Bakugo didn’t need to explain. The way he leaned slightly forward, fists clenched but ready to relax, showed his mind racing faster than any words could.

“You smell like the ocean,” he said finally, voice rough and low, stepping closer. “I know what you are.” His red eyes scanned yours, searching for a hint of deception, a warning, anything that might challenge him.

“And… I don’t care if you’re supposed to be dangerous or whatever. I’m not leaving until I know why you’re here.”

Your gaze met his, steady and unafraid, and Bakugo felt an odd mix of frustration and intrigue.

There was something raw, magnetic, and untamed about you, the briny scent weaving through the air around him and making his warrior senses hum.

Kirishima shifted slightly behind him, human form towering and imposing, yet giving space. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he muttered, though there was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Bakugo’s jaw tightened, a small, almost imperceptible grin tugging at his lips. “Tch… you think I’d let some… sea freak get the drop on me? You’ve got another thing coming.”

And yet, despite his words, his movements were curious. He stepped closer, still on guard, but his sharp eyes never left you.

Every instinct of a dragon warrior, every bit of his fiery pride, told him this encounter wasn’t a threat—it was… a challenge.

he said finally, voice low, almost daring. “So either you tell me who you are, or I figure it out myself.”

The wind from the cliff whipped past you both, carrying the salt air and the faint shimmer of the tide pool below.

Bakugo’s red eyes flicked to the water and back, fists still ready, body tense—but beneath it all, there was that spark of reckless fascination that only someone like him could feel when encountering something entirely… unlike himself.

The day had started as just another patrol. By now, it was clear that nothing in the forest—or the world—was going to remain ordinary for long.