He always thought Tsuyu was more frog than human. She had big eyes and big hands and a flat, monotonous voice, like she never quite learned to emote properly. Her hair shone green in most light, and even her skin seemed to take on the slightest tint of green in his room.

That was probably more because of the luminescent algae than any potential frog-curse or whatever.

She was the one that suggested their next target.

"That's the Hydra," Tsuyu said, surveying the coastline. Katsuki joined her near the window and watched the rocky cliffs roll by. "We could start investigating."

"Hysa has nothing to offer," he told her. "Nothing but cotton and rocks."

"And untold riches," Jirou countered, "the king and his family never go hungry. Must be sitting pretty on a pile of his people's gold." She eyed the castle in the distance, fiddling with her ear. "I say we check it out."

Tsuyu nodded. "I'll take it up with Aizawa." She turned to leave, but paused at the door. "Start the investigation, though. Jirou, you take Kirishima and Izuku to town. Tell Kaminari to check up above. Bakugou–"

"Save it, frog face. I'm going." Sliding into the water, he smirked back at them. "Besides, I got a way right to the castle."


It takes longer than he remembers to get to the private beach.

Not because he came from the other side of the island, no–he expected it to be well after sunset when he reached the gate. But the tunnel he used before was smaller than he remembered, or perhaps it was the same and he's the one that got bigger.

It didn't matter, really. He'd just blow a hole in it if he didn't fit. But he does fit, just barely, with about an inch of clearance on all sides.

It does amuse him, though, that such a heavily guarded place would have holes running all through it. The wall was built into the sandbar, and the gate rolled out of it, only allowing enough space at the bottom for small ships to get through. Guards patrolled in half-hour intervals, protecting against any potential threats from inside or out.

The only thing left unguarded were the tunnels beneath it. They were vents, to be more accurate, to let water flow in and out. Most of them were barred off, but there were three that weren't–they were deep enough that no human could get through in a single breath, though, not without proper equipment. They were escape holes, most likely. All castles had hidden hallways and secret escapes for the royalty to flee. There was probably diving equipment hidden in the wall somewhere.

Katsuki finally reaches the end of the tunnel and enters the private waters. He's cautious, of course, because he didn't bother to wait until the next guards passed to investigate. His first objective was just to see if the rest of his crew could make it through the gate if needed, and that was, for the most part, a yes. They'd need down-stuffed dive suits and a source of oxygen, but they could make it.

His second task is to find the castle's hidden stash of what's sure to be top-quality equipment–something that could be sold for a high price. He swims along the wall, feeling for any seams or latches. He swims one way, then the other, then up and down and all over, but nothing catches his attention–if there is a secret in the wall, it's hidden above the water.

That's fine. There are plenty of boat docks to hide under. He swims to the closest one, keeping his eyes on the water above him. Caution doesn't really matter, he thinks, because the ice on the surface is thick enough to hide his form. It wouldn't hide his color completely, but there are fires on the beach, and for anyone looking from above, he's just a reflection.

He darts beneath the dock, and calling upon his Gift, sets a hand against the ice. It melts away, gentler than his normal bursts because if there's fire on the beach, it means someone's out there.

He has no idea why there are humans out on the beach in the dead of night, but he also doesn't care. They won't notice him. All he needs is to be quiet and covert.

It's a goal that shatters when the ice next to him does.

If he'd been more aware, it might've been obvious. The planks above him vibrated with sudden movement, jostling with weight that was there one moment and gone the next.

But no, with all his attention on his Gift, slowly widening the hole that he'd made, the ice startled him when it cracked. Which broke his concentration, which caused his hands to explode on their own–a sound that was hopefully hidden under the crack of the ice.

He turns to the source of the disturbance, expletives spilling from his mouth like an overturned cup despite the lack of audience–because of course no one could hear him underwater, and it irks him enough to consider ignoring the fool who jumped into the freezing cold ocean. But his morals win out in the end, so he swims toward them.

But then he stops to take in what he's seeing.

Floating before him, with her eyes squeezed shut and her hair flowing in an invisible current, is a girl, no older than him. That's not what makes him pause, though. It's the arrow sticking out of her shoulder that stops him.

He moves behind her and wraps an arm around her waist, and it surprises him when she grabs it–it's a feeble grip, but one that feels like she's trying to dig her nails into his skin.

He swims up, hand extended for balance, and when he gets beneath the dock he melts the ice that formed while he was gone. He pulls the girl above the water, still hidden beneath the dock, and covers her mouth when she gasps for air. Yes, she's starving for air, she's been under a good minute or so, but he's smart enough to know that she shouldn't make a sound.

If this girl–in nothing but a light jacket and nightgown, with an arrow sticking out of her shoulder–was desperate enough to risk her life to escape, it must be from something truly horrible.

Ormaybe, he thinks as she begins thrashing in his hold, she was counting on that risk to end her life.

Because she's biting him now, and kicking her feet, as though she wants him to let her go and die freezing cold. But he's Katsuki Bakugou, and he hardly ever does things according to other people's wants. So he just clamps down tighter on her, and focuses on his Gift to keep her warm like it does him, and he whispers in her ear.

"If you die, they win."

This stops her movement, and like flipping a switch, her shoulders are shaking. She grips his wrist in another feeble hold, but there's more strength in this one than there was the last. He lowers his hand from her mouth, and they wait in silence as the soldiers walk away.


She's quiet when they leave. She's been quiet the whole damn time, actually, and he's getting annoyed. She doesn't even swim behind him, she just sort of floats and lets him pull her like a weight.

He turns around, glaring right at her, but she doesn't respond. Maybe it's because they're underwater, and she's wearing an enchanted diving mask(he was right about that stash of equipment), or maybe it's because she's outwardly ignoring him. He can't really say for certain which it is, but if it's the latter then the gods better save her from his wrath.

He pulls them to the vent and immediately sees a problem. Namely, her inability to do anything on her own. He tried to take her back to shore when the soldiers left, but she grabbed his belts and didn't let go. It was almost subconscious, the way she held him in one hand, the way she kicked her feet every now and then, the way she pointed out the compartment that the masks were hiding in. There's no way she'll make it through the tunnel without him, especially with that arrow in her back.

But they also can't make it swimming side-by-side.

He sighs (as much as one can sigh underwater) and, in a quick movement, breaks off most of the arrow's shaft. It makes her flinch, an unexpected pain that curls her fingers loosely around her knife. He takes out his own knife and slides it down the back of her jacket.

Boy, was that the wrong thing to do. As if by magic, she springs back to life, kicking away from him as the jacket floats off her shoulders and pools around her elbows. The look she gives him is indignant, as if she cares more about her jacket than her life. But then the jacket falls apart, floats to gather on either wrist, and she holds it out to him, the fight in her lost once again.

Actually, he notes as he cuts it into strips and ties them together, it's much too big for her.

When he's done with that, he signs through the water, Can you hold this?

She blinks, then nods, holding the makeshift rope in her good hand. Katsuki sighs, then signs, You better not let go, after all this trouble.

She nods and tightens her grip, wrapping the jacket around her wrist and in her fingers. He starts to swim, and she drags behind him again, but it feels like she's putting in a little more effort than before.

When they reach the other side of the tunnel, Katsuki pulls her up to the surface. Too much magic in her lungs can be bad, so he pulls the mask off her face. And maybe he can get her to talk, while he's at it.

But before he even says anything, though, she has her head against his shoulder.

"Don't," she whispers. "Don't get anymore involved. Just take me to shore and I'll...I'll find a way to fix it."

He's not sure what she wants to fix, but there's no way she'll do it on her own. Especially not when she's spent, fallen asleep on his shoulder in the middle of the goddamn ocean.

Katsuki sighs yet again, hopefully for the last time that night. He scans the night sky, searching for a shadow among the stars–a shape that could easily be mistaken for a bird, but he knew better. He spots it, gliding above the castle, and lifts his hand to release four short bursts–three for his location, and one for his passenger.


Shin marches from the dock, his blood boiling. The air around him steams, melting snowflakes as they fall around him.

The Princess is dead.

He stops at the ring of horses, standing in the center. Where she stood.

The Princess is dead.

He kneels, combing the sand with his fingers.

The Princess is dead. This was all for nothing.

He frowns, unable to find what he's looking for, and furrows his brow.

Unless I can make this work.

He won't sleep well. He won't sleep at all, not until his body gives out on its own. He'll have nightmares. Red, bloody, screeching nightmares.

All I need is time.

He smiles when he finds it–a small gem, buried in the sand. He's not sure what it is, yet, but there are people for that.

Her body will surface at some point. That's all I need.


A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review :)