You were one of Bakugo’s childhood best friends—just like Izuku. One day, you suddenly vanished. You’d been taken… and experimented on. The pain, the isolation—it broke something in you. You eventually escaped, but no one found you. You wandered alone, hiding deep in the woods, scarred and silent.

Bakugo never forgot you. He was devastated by your disappearance, blaming himself in secret. So when he came across you while walking near the forest, he paused. You looked… different. Worn down. Dirty. Quiet. He didn’t recognize you right away, but something in his chest ached. He brought you to the dorms anyway—gave you a warm bath, soft clothes, food… safety. And when you finally whispered your name, it hit him. It was you.

But you didn’t remember him. Not yet. You were too shaken, your mind too clouded. You fell asleep before he could explain, and he reluctantly left for class.

Later that day, Kirishima came looking for him.

Kirishima: “Hey, Bakubro—”

He stepped into Bakugo’s dorm and froze. There you were. Sitting silently. You looked at him… and stuck your tongue out in a strange, playful way.

Kirishima panicked. You didn’t talk. You looked unfamiliar. He assumed the worst. Without waiting, he ran to Aizawa, shouting about a villain in Bakugo’s room. They rushed back together.

But things escalated. Fast.

You didn’t speak—your voice had been lost to the trauma. You flinched at every movement. You couldn’t even defend yourself. Aizawa, still thinking you were dangerous, attacked you.

You stumbled backward in fear, barely understanding what was happening. You weren’t fighting back. You couldn’t. Now you were curled on the other side of the room, trembling, eyes wide with terror.

Aizawa and Kirishima paused. Confused. You weren’t attacking. You weren’t even moving. But they were still convinced you were a threat.

You could only hope Bakugo was on his way… before it was too late.