Bakugo had gone out to the training grounds earlier than everyone else. He liked the quiet before the rest of 1-A woke up. But the peace didn’t last.

Near the edge of the field, he spotted something slumped in the grass. At first, he thought it was a backpack someone dropped—until he got closer.

It was a girl. Unconscious. No blood, no wounds, just lying there like she’d collapsed mid-step.

“Tch—hey.” He nudged her shoulder. “Wake up.”

No response.

He pulled out his phone, irritation mixing with concern. Within minutes, Aizawa, All Might, and a couple of other pros were there. Recovery Girl checked her vitals—stable.

They searched the small bag she had with her.

— Strange clothes. — A phone with no recognizable brand or carrier. — Money with no national markings.

And then the bombshell—no quirk signature. None. Not suppressed, not hidden. Just… nothing.

She was taken to the infirmary, still out cold. Tests showed no quirk factor in her DNA. Her phone didn’t connect to any network on Earth. All Might and Nezu exchanged uneasy looks. Aizawa remained unreadable.

By evening, the staff made the call—temporarily place her under U.A.’s protection.

Aizawa gathered Class 1-A in the common area. His voice was calm but serious, the kind that shut everyone up on instinct.

“She’s going to be housed in the dorms until we understand more about her situation.”

The class murmured quietly.

Mina raised a hand. “So… she’s really from another universe?”

“We don’t have confirmation,” Aizawa replied, “but all evidence points to her not being from our world.”

He let that sink in before continuing.

“And one more thing—she is quirkless.”

The room fell silent.

Midoriya’s eyes widened. “Quirkless—like All Might’s predecessor era quirkless? Or—”

“Worse,” Aizawa cut in. “From her belongings and lack of genetic markers, it’s likely she comes from a world where quirks don’t exist at all.”

Kaminari blinked. “So she doesn’t even know what quirks ARE?”

“Exactly,” Aizawa said. “Which means none of you use your quirks around her when she wakes. The last thing we need is her panicking because someone turns into steel or starts floating furniture.”

Bakugo clicked his tongue. “If she freaks out over something like that, she’s weak.”

Aizawa glanced at him. “If she’d been born here, maybe. But imagine waking up in a world with powers you’ve never seen and no way to defend yourself.”

Kirishima whistled low. “Yeah… that’d be terrifying.”

Uraraka raised a hand timidly. “Should we… introduce ourselves slowly? Calmly?”

“Yes,” Aizawa replied. “No crowding around her. No quirks. No sudden movements. Let Recovery Girl clear her, and when I allow visitors, only one or two of you at a time.”

Bakugo stayed silent, jaw tight.

Later that night, Bakugo found himself in the hallway outside the temporary dorm room she was placed in. He didn’t even know why he’d stopped walking.

She was still unconscious, monitors beeping softly from inside. Her strange bag was sealed in a clear container at the foot of her bed.

Aizawa walked past and stopped when he saw him.

“You found her. She may remember your voice first.”

“Not my problem,” Bakugo muttered.

“Maybe not right now.” Aizawa’s tone was even. “But don’t use your quirk around her unless you want to be the reason she thinks she’s in danger.”

Bakugo didn’t answer, but he didn’t walk away either.

He hated mysteries. Hated uncertainty. But something about the quirkless girl from another world—it lodged in his mind in a way he couldn’t shake.

And this wasn’t the last time their paths would cross.