"Hey kiddo," Nemuri said with a smile as she entered Shota's apartment. She had no idea why Eri had asked her to meet here of all places, nor why Nezu had called her to explain that whatever the girl had to say was true and that she needed to take it seriously.

The teenager in a child's body smiled up at her and led her inside. "How are you doing?"

Sparing a moment to look around, she had to admit, it was exactly what she'd expected of Shota's place. Simple, unobtrusive, a little lived in, with several cats. While they'd been friends for many years, she'd never seen his apartment before. He was a pretty private man, and generally didn't like to involve his private life in anything even remotely related to hero work. Not that he had much of a private life to speak of.

She understood the appeal but she was satisfied with her one fuzzbaby, thank you very much. Sushi was not the kind to share mama kindly.

"Feeling a little bloated, but not quite bloated enough for me to ask you to zap you back?" Eri teased as she stepped aside to let Nemuri in.

With a grin, she placed a large cake box on the table and opened it. Inside was a large, double fudge cherry chocolate cheesecake. She'd heard about them before, even given more than a few a longing glances, but had never dared try them on account of them basically being made out of nothing but raw fat and sugar. But now, well, what did she have to lose?

Sure, her pants were tight, and honestly, she was wondering if she shouldn't try upping her weight a kilos or two once she was zapped back because it had gone to her bustline before anywhere else, but she'd reached the point where she was starting to feel a little fat. Thankfully though, Eri would be zapping this all right off sooner than later, right?

"What's that?"

"Double chocolate cheesecake," she replied. "I want to live before you rewind me. Eat all that stuff I never could."

Eri smirked. "You mean the stuff I eat all the time."

Nemuri's eyebrow twitched. "You're a cruel, sadistic little brat but yes..." she sighed. "Anyways, I don't want to be a bother but would you be willing to rewind someone else?"

Eri frowned slightly. "Who are you thinking of?"

Nemuri pursed her lips. She was sure that All Might was going to bring it up with the girl, but considering that Kazuho was her sidekick, it was only right that she be the one to ask. "My newest sidekick. She was possessed by..."

"You're talking about Pop Step, right?" she cut in.

Nemuri blinked. "Yes... how did you-?"

"I was the one who told All Might about her," Eri replied, "So yes, I'll rewind her too. Just bring her with when it's time to give you a once over."

Nemuri nodded as her answer simply opened up new questions.

So, was this how All Might knew about the case? Eri was his source? But how would she have even known? He'd known far too much for her to have simply seen it on television and have brought it to his attention. There were just too many fine details. Was the sick fuck who kept her locked up somehow related to the case?

Nemuri closed her eyes and sat down, looking at the kid. "Before we get started I have to know, why are you here of all places? I mean, I know Shota-kun has a habit of taking in strays but this is a bit much even for him."

"It's part of why I asked you here," Eri replied with a small shrug. "Everything is connected."

She nodded. "Okay, so what do you want to tell me then?"

"I'm from the future," Eri replied, as casual as if she'd commented on the weather.

Nemuri blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I'm from the future," Eri restated, "Nezu told you to take me seriously, right?"

"Yes, but..."

"And I'm from the future," she repeated again, "Look, I really hate telling this story, so..."

She handed her a notebook.

"I wrote it all down," Eri sighed, "I know this might seem strange but..." the girl's face twisted in discomfort. "The future isn't pleasant."

Nemuri glanced down to the book and then looked back up. "What's so bad about the future?"

Eri went silent for a moment. "You want the short version?"

"Sure."

"Aliens invaded. We lost."

Nemuri blinked. She glanced down at the notebook with a newfound sense of foreboding and dread. Swallowing her fear, she opened the notebook, and started to read.

I missed this.

Sasaki Mirai smiled slightly as he sat down across from All-Might, one leg crossed across the other as he began to leaf through the documents he'd assembled- copies of various witness statements, police reports, investigative documents, and his own report on the matters at hand.

"So," All Might began, a youthful smile on his restored visage, "What do you have for me today, Mirai?"

"The Committee would like to speak to you in reference to recent events," he replied calmly.

"Ah, they want to talk about Gentle and Crawler?" All Might drummed his fingers slightly on the desk.

"Among other things, it seems," he replied calmly as he rifled through his papers, making sure they were all in order. "Also, we received a message from I-Island. Shield-san has been cleared to visit Japan."

That had All Might's smile grow even more, and Mirai's heart twinged slightly at the sight. As close as he was to All Might and as much as he admired him as a man and a hero, he'd always been closer to his previous sidekick - the genius American inventor, David Shield. So much so that he was even godfather to the man's daughter.

He didn't take it personally, he was simply pleased to have his friend back - intact and not slowly killing himself in the name of his duties. Enough so that he was willing to - in part - set aside his own heroic career to return to his side as his assistant.

Not that he ceased running his own agency, he was just in the process of incorporating it as an appendage of All Might's own rather than as its own independent entity. In some ways this was a loss of prestige, but the simple connection to the icon of heroism that was All Might more than made up for any potential loss of face.

"Wonderful!" All Might exclaimed, clapping his hands in joy, "Let me know when he's due!"

"I will as soon as the flight is chartered," he replied evenly, "Now, I've set up Bubaigawara Jin with quarters within the tower and have spoken with Human Resources about assigning him a position with the nighttime custodial staff. Your legal department says that his case is practically open and shut, and the simple threat of his quirk being used for serious crimes would be enough to keep him out of prison and well away from bad influences."

As a man and a hero, he couldn't help but shudder at the very idea of someone with Bubaigawara's powers becoming a proper villain rather than a petty criminal, and while All Might, being himself, thought very little of Hawk's decision to kill the man in the original timeline, Mirai himself would have been tempted to do the same.

The fact that everything Eri provided had been second hand via a future Toga Himiko also meant it was likely extremely biased. She had, after all, been the one who'd suggested that he attempt to recruit Magne. Magne who in retrospect, had proven to be an unrepentant psychopath using her identity as a transwoman to provide a freudian excuse to kill and steal without remorse.

But yes, sending Bubaigawara to prison would have meant exposing him to the general prison population, which likely would have been disastrous. The man was desperate for social connections, which would have made manipulating him - and gaining free use of his quirk - elementary. The only other alternative would be to lock him in solitary which would have been inhumane to the point of being cruel and unusual when the origin of his criminality and psychological trauma were taken into account.

No. As much as he disliked seeing a man with such a varied criminal record escape punishment, his potency as an asset was unquestionable. Just the idea of the man using his quirk to clone All Might was enough to make him feel maybe just a little bit giddy.

"The biggest issue we've faced so far is locating Toga Himiko herself," he continued. "Leads, history, potential sightings- but nothing concrete enough to act upon."

Personally, he felt the girl should simply be arrested. While her story was indeed tragic, and he did honestly desire to see her find the help she needed to return to some degree of normalcy, the fact remained that she'd committed multiple counts of murder and thrice as many assaults with deadly weapons.

He'd seen the reports from the survivors. The girl was simply a predator, like a creature right out of an old horror movie. Every report said the same thing: inhuman grace and agility, and a terrifyingly effective natural killing instinct.

"After investigating what little is known of her Quirk and factoring in the information from Eri-san," After all the girl had seen, referring her to with a 'chan' simply felt disrespectful. "I have come to the belief that, as a result of the transformative component of her quirk, she has incredible social flexibility- that is, she is immensely adept at blending into existing social groups. She is, for lack of a better term, a social chameleon."

Likely an aspect meant to allow her to better stalk prey, as it were. Not entirely unexpected, but not entirely welcome, either.

"A simple cursory search is likely to turn up no result- after all, she will identify and integrate herself into groups with no knowledge of her. Likely the local homeless population, at that- meaning if any do in fact know of her, they are unlikely to respond well to authorities. On the other hand, any in-depth investigation is liable to either provoke her into attacking said investigators, or simply vanishing before we can attain a solid lead- if not both."

That should have been the end of it.

"So what you're saying," All Might concluded with a smile, "Is it would be best for me to find her personally."

Had Mirai not long grown accustomed to this sort of response from All-Might, he might have sighed.

"I'm afraid it's hardly so simple." He instead replied. "It's highly likely that she mimics accents, local customs, anything to blend in as a local. She could be on any street in any city in Japan and appear for all the world to be native to it. If you don't find her immediately, she's easily capable of escaping to- well, anywhere."

"Do we have any idea where she is currently?"

"There is a pattern, yes." Mirai admitted. "We have a rough pattern on her current range that suggests a current 'territory' as it were. Unfortunately, in every instance where the authorities have committed manpower to rooting her out, nothing is found until she emerges somewhere else entirely several weeks later. She is immensely adept at evasion."

Understatement.

He'd be impressed if she wasn't a serial killer.

"Then keep your ear to the ground, my friend. And as for me, I'll be looking. After all, the girl's own future self asked for help!"

He sighed. Of course that would catch All Might's attention. How could he expect any less?

"Of course." Mirai promised.

Nemuri had been a hero in some form or another for over half her lifetime, beginning her education at fifteen, becoming an active hero as an intern of His Purple Highness during her first year of UA. During those sixteen years she'd seen a lot and done much. As someone who tended to specialize in street level intelligence gathering and vice she'd come face to face with some of the worst humanity had to offer. Rape, torture, human trafficing, murder - none of them were new to her. She'd seen good people die, men, women, children, friends cut down senselessly in the very prime of their lives...

But even with all of that, she could honestly say, she'd probably never felt this... numb in her entire life.

"This is..." she took a deep breath, "It's horrifying."

"It was worse to live it." Eri murmured.

Nemuri winced in sympathy. She couldn't even imagine what this girl had been through. "I'm sorry I..." she took a deep breath, "What happened to me?"

"You were in Tokyo during the attack," she said quietly.

Nemuri closed her eyes. She died then. At least she hadn't had to experience seeing her world burn but hearing about your own death wasn't a pleasant experience. She took a deep breath. "So you really are just a kid?"

"Kind of?" the girl offered weekly. "I have a child's body but the memories of a grown woman, and I'm not really sure which me is real. I decided to just split the difference and say I'm a teenager. Fewer existential crises this way."

"Sounds confusing," Numeri admitted. She'd go insane if she was dumped into her bratty childhood self. "So how much of what you told me about what happened to you was true, and how much of it was your cover story?"

"All of it was true," Eri replied, "I was just a bit... creative with the telling?"

She flinched. Okay then. Here was a kid who could never catch a break. New subject!

"What were we? How did you know me?"

"I was raised at UA," she replied quietly, "After I was saved from a villain, my quirk was uncontrollable. Aizawa..." she smiled, "He became my father. Literally. Adopted me even."

To that Nemuri had to laugh. That sounded like Shota alright. "He really does like to take in strays, doesn't he?"

The girl laughed. "Yeah, he does. Tousan's a strange one." The smile lingered on her face as she looked down at the floor. "You and Yamada-san were there too."

"So what was I? Hopefully not mom, because while I like Shota-kun, I don't like Shota-kun," she teased.

"More an aunt." Eri admitted.

Nemuri smiled and let out a soft sigh. "So everything went well until it wasn't?"

The girl went silent.

"What?"

"In about a year's time- or at least a year's time in the original timeline. I've already changed the timeline irreparably. The exact chain of events I'm about to describe can no longer physically happen. I want you to know that before I get into the details."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "What did you do?"

"You'll have to ask All Might," she said after a moment, "That isn't my story to tell."

Nemuri felt a chill run up her spine. "Something happened to All Might?"

He'd seemed fine when she'd seen him. More than fine, really. Downright yummy to be honest. She couldn't imagine what would happen if the Symbol of Peace was no longer around. She remembered what Japan was like before he returned from America. It was not a place she wanted to live. Not again.

Eri paused for a moment and then nodded. "He lost the ability to use his Quirk."

Nemuri flinced. Yeah, that would do it. She could see how that would cause things to go not just sideways but full on inside-out.

"So what happened to me then? You said in about a year?"

Eri went silent for a moment and then took a deep breath, "During a major battle... you were taken prisoner by a villain..."

Icy fingers worked their way up her spine. She'd read H-manga that had started with this premise and it never was any of the good ones.

"His name was... is Dupe. He's a low rent thug, a drug dealer whose Quirk allows him to make an inferior copy of anything he touches, including human bodies."

Nemuri flinced. Oh, she did not like where this was going. "Human bodies?"

"He can copy people, but the copies always come out dead."

"Don't tell me he kept me around for twisted necrophilia stuff..."

Actually, please tell me he did. Given a moment to think, Nemuri could think of far worse things for a captor to do to her...

"No, he kept you for your glands."

"My what?" the 18+ heroine asked, suddenly very much not liking where this was going.

What had started out sounding like a poorly written H-manga had just suddenly taken a left turn into full on body horror.

"Your scent glands. Your Quirk. He's a drug dealer. Buy one trigger injector and he has a lifetime supply of low-grade products. He saw you overrun and disabled and decided that instead of just killing you, it was time to graduate to the big leagues."

"And no one saved me?"

"It was a battlefield. You were cut off and surrounded. He copied you and left a mangled corpse behind. Everyone thought you were dead." Eri murmured. "...It took two years before we knew."

Two years. They'd not known for two years. She wanted to rage, she wanted to feel betrayed but... she could just imagine how chaotic things would have been around a time like that. A return to the bad old days, and they'd literally had a body. She couldn't honestly blame them.

"What happened?" she took a deep breath. "What did he do?"

"He kept you sedated and alive. He'd copy you, extract your scent glands, and render them down and process them as date rape drugs. Sure, your quirk's not as effective on women, but a direct, ingested dose of even a weaker version of your Somnambulist is still pretty potent."

Nemuri closed her eyes for a moment to breathe.

She'd selected her style for a reason- to try and highlight, even to the people trapped in that hellish world, the positive aspects of sexuality- the beauty, freedom, and potential for joy in it. That someone had taken her- not just something similar, her- and used that to facilitate everything she dedicated her life to stopping.

Her throat filled with bile. She felt downright nauseous. Defiled even. She...

She'd almost have preferred being locked in a sex dungeon.

She felt Eri's hand on her leg. "It's okay. I told Nezu. He said he's taking care of it."

Slowly Nemuri opened her eyes and turned to look at the girl. "Nezu's taking care of it?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Personally."

Eri blinked. "Yes. Why?"

She couldn't help but chuckle for a moment as she felt the feeling of disgust fade to instead be replaced by one other, glorious emotion.

Schadenfreude.

Glorious, glorious schadenfreude.

Oh, this was going to be brilliant.

"Well, if it's being taken care of, then I guess the only thing we can do is eat some cheesecake..."

Eri looked at her with bewilderment. "You're taking this surprisingly well all of a sudden..."

"Nezu's on the job."

"And?"

She grinned like a shark before cackling like a madwoman. She just couldn't help herself.

"You'll see."

"Ugh-aaahhh..."

Bukimi Taika - known to friends and enemies alike as Dupe - groaned aloud as a high-pitched whistling sound filled the dingy basement here he'd set up shop- Out of the way, in an abandoned building that had a couple of its upper floors wrecked in some villain fight about 10 years back, then forgotten in the hoopla, they'd never bothered to cut off the water, power, and internet meaning that he basically had all the room he could want and didn't have to spend a single shiny yen to keep it up.

"Oh, that was a ripe one," he grumbled as he waved his hand to disperse the stench.

He smacked his plump lips and reached for another bag of potato chips. Working always made him hungry and he was a hard working man. After all, Trigger didn't make itself.

After sating his momentary hunger with his snack, he wiped his fingers on his greasy shirt, which was stretched wide by his voluminous build, and returned to his daily labors.

Reaching into the padded box where he kept his original sample, a vial of high grade foreign stuff he'd smuggled in from overseas, he went back to doing what he did best: duplicating some product..

The housing looked a bit cheaper, the plastic more brittle, the needle inside both duller and more likely to snap off in some idiot junky's arm, and most importantly, the contents watered down and less consistent... but you got what you paid for and he sold the cheapest shit on the streets due to having basically no overhead.

First one. Then two. Then three. He continued on, eating as he worked. After all, using Duplication always caused him to work up an appetite.

He'd had the crate about half finished, about fifty doses when the lights went dead.

He scowled. Okay, either the power company had finally wised up, some idiot thought they could steal his power, or something fishy was going on.

He quietly fumbled through the dark, looking for a light when the door to the basement opened with a clang.

He sucked in a deep breath as he began to hear a sound.

Clack.

Clack.

Clack.

It was loud, and it was getting closer.

Using the faint rays of light being cast from the door, he was able to fumble for the flashlight he kept in his desk, along with the pistol he'd managed to dupe a couple years ago. He'd fumbled into an armed cop while playing drunk and managed to dupe the guys's gun into his pocket. Gotten smacked up the side of the head, but it had been worth it.

Wasn't a good gun, but he trusted it not to blow his hand off even if only just. Which was also the reason he wasn't an arms dealer. Can't do copies of copies and have them turn out right.

Taking a deep breath, he turned on his flashlight while holding the firearm in the other hand.

Clack.

Clack.

Clack.

"Fuckin' show yourself or I'll blow your head off!"

"Two hundred and six."

The voice was cheerful, high pitched, and strangely menacing. He turned his light to the source in an instant as he brought up his gun.

It was... a rat. A giant rat with a scar on its face, dressed in a suit and holding a cane with a paw on the top. It was looking at him with what he could almost call amusement on its face as it continued to approach him.

"What the fuck?" he demanded as he thrust his gun forward, pointing it at the creature.

"There are two hundred and six bones in the human body."

The rat thing smiled.

"Let's count."