Gone With the Tide ((MIDORIYA IZUKU X OC))

1

Musutafu, Japan wasn't really known for its ocean-side view or its lush, sandy beach. It wasn't really known for anything, really, aside from being Quirk central and the home of U.A. High School.

But to a certain teacher from said school, a walk along the coast was one of the most relaxing things to do every morning before heading into work. He didn't know what it was about the salty scent of the ocean or how the sand crunched gently under his boots that made it so worth going there, but he didn't find himself dwelling on it. It was like a safe haven nowadays; like nothing could go wrong if he was on that beach, staring off at the point where the sky touches the water. It gave him time to think by himself, and with all that has gone on during that first semester, he needed it.

He let his mind wander as far as it wanted to go during his hour long stroll, ranging repetitively from the USJ incident and to something simple like what he was going to have for dinner that night, or what he might wear the next day; and sometimes he didn't think about anything at all. Today was one of those days, and he found himself staring down at the sand as he walked — hands in his pockets and black hair rustling with the light breeze.

The beach that Tuesday morning was especially vacant, lacking any joggers or elderly people walking their herds of dogs. It almost seemed odd, and quickly Aizawa Shouta found himself feeling out of place.

He upturned his gaze from the toes of his boots as he halted in his slow stroll, coal-like eyes locking on a cluster of grey colored rocks a few feet away. Aizawa felt drawn to it somehow, and following his instinct, steadily began to approach it again.

As Aizawa drew closer to the bundle of sediments, he noticed an arch-like opening leading beyond the mass. He tentatively inched inward, and in tilting his head toward the shore where miniature waves brushed against the sand, he saw a girl.

Her hair was raven black and her skin was fair and scarred. Her back was turned to him, but from what he could tell she was stark naked and soaking wet. At the sight of her long hair dancing lazily with the soft wind, he suddenly felt as if the soles of his boots were wedged to the ground. He was stunned, befuddled, and completely confused as to why a fifteen-year-old-looking girl was sitting naked and alone on a vacant beach. He wondered why she was scarred up her arms, down her legs, and along her hips. He wondered if she knew he was there, and suddenly his quiet mind was racing.

As the suffocating seconds ticked by, the girl finally turned to glance over her shoulder. She moved slowly, as if the scene was in slow motion, to display a pretty face and full cheeks. Her eyes were a golden-amber, and her long black lashes brushed against her wind-kissed cheeks when she blinked. She stared at Aizawa with little interest, and he couldn't help but compare her stare to one of a predator. It was unnerving and made his hairs stand on end.

"Hey," Aizawa finally called out, though the girl didn't flinch. She only blinked slowly once more. "What are you doing out here? Are you hurt?"

The girl adjusted her sitting position to lean on her knees, facing her body toward him with her long wavy hair cascading down her chest and into her lap. She seemed interested in what he had to say, but Aizawa had the sneaking suspicion that she didn't understand a word that he was saying. He let out a curt breath and approached her slowly, shrugging off his jacket in the process.

Meanwhile, the girl kept her hues glued to him like a hawk, propping herself up on her toes as she knelt down close to the ground. Her palms pressed deeply into the mushy, wet sand she had been sitting in, looking about ready to pounce on him if he made the wrong move. The gesture only made Aizawa move slower, and he lowered himself down to her level two feet away, holding out his jacket by the shoulders; as if he was gesturing for her to come into it.