Here we go again. The bad guys had found me and managed to force me into their scheme. It was almost redundant at this point; I'd been kidnapped by villains so often I ought to get a punch card.

I had come to Japan hoping that no one would recognize me. It had worked, for a while. But the peace never lasted, and my past always caught up with me. This time I had been too slow. That's why I found myself packed in a windowless van with a dozen sweaty criminals, heading towards certain death.

This little group of punks didn't stand a chance. Here in Japan, the heroes were incredible. They were well funded, well organized, all of the things that the American heroes lacked. Now, thanks to my bad luck, I was going down with these losers.

The van pulled to a stop and we all waited in anticipation. It was quiet outside.

One of the gang leaders had the ability to control other people's actions with a simple command. That meant he could wait from a safe distance while his pawns did the dirty work. Earlier, back at the hideout, he had shown me a photo of my target. It was a blurry image of a man crouched at the edge of a tall building, dressed all in black except for the scarf looped around his shoulders.

Since I was given my orders, there was no way to refuse or try to escape. My job was to take down my target. All I had to do was touch his skin to drain his power. That was my special gift, the reason why villains always sought me out. They never cared what I wanted, only how they could use my ability for their own benefit. If I ever tried to forget about it, a glance in the mirror would quickly remind me. After all these years I still had the white streak at the top of my brown hair, a memento of the first time I'd been used by the bad guys.

Not that I cared about my target. I knew nothing about him. Maybe it didn't matter; even if I was able to complete my task, there was no way I was getting out of this one. Since moving here I had often watched television coverage of the huge battles that regularly went down. It made the fights back home look like recess. I only hoped my death would be somewhat quick.

With a shout, the van doors opened, and we all spilled out.

Soon it was just as chaotic and terrifying as I had expected. Deformed monsters raged as helicopters circled overhead, trying to follow the scene. I had spotted my target, thankfully a short distance from the worst of it. He was perched on a small outcrop of rocks, the perfect vantage point for the fight. I was sprinting across the battlefield in his direction.

He didn't even appear to be part of the fight, he was only watching. I wasn't sure what my purpose was in going after him. Maybe these villains were just stupid. It would have been more productive to send me after one of the big guys, but I wasn't complaining.

The ruckus of the battle helped hide my approach. I was sorely out of practice.

Now I was just a few yards away, and his back was still to me. He had shaggy black hair, and he was looking out at the fight before us with intense concentration. I looked for a place I could touch him before he noticed me. Of course this would be the one person who didn't opt for a revealing hero costume. The only bare skin I saw was his hands.

When I was just a few steps away, the noise suddenly died down just as my boot crunched on some dry leaves. The man whipped around. His eyes were hidden behind striped yellow goggles. My body was held in place. I looked down to see his scarf wrapped tightly around me. Apparently it wasn't a normal scarf.

Despite being caught, my orders did not change, and I reached for the man. "Stop right there," he said, low and threatening.

I knew it was useless, but my body was still trying to follow the command. "I'm sorry," I yelled, straining to reach him. "They're making me do this."

He stared at me for a second. "Someone is controlling you?"

"Yes," I pleaded. "I can't stop it."

The scarf fell away, and without thinking, I stumbled the last few steps forward and reached for him. As my hand made contact with his, I braced myself for the rush of energy as I drained his ability. Nothing happened.

I gaped up at him. "How are you doing that?"

"Did you accomplish what they asked of you?"

I nodded stupidly. "I think so." He had let me complete my task, so I could be free. Utterly brilliant.

"Good, then go," he said, turning his back to me.

I was more than happy to leave, but my legs did not cooperate. Instead, I found myself reaching for him again. He turned to face me, his giant scarf twisting around me, squeezing. As I touched him, I felt a spark, just a fraction of what would normally happen when I drew power from someone. Then it was gone.

"It's not letting me quit." I hoped he wouldn't lose patience and kill me.

"Then I'll have to incapacitate you. I'm sorry." Then I was flying through the air. I landed with a thud, and my vision faded to black.

The police found me just as I was starting to regain consciousness. "Don't move," one of them called as they rushed forward.

I backed away as they approached, scrambling in the pile of leaves where I had fallen. If they grabbed me and it hurt them, things could turn ugly fast. "It's not safe to touch me," I shouted. They stopped, watching me carefully. "Please, I don't want to hurt you," I begged. If I survived the battle only to be killed now, I would feel pretty stupid.

"It's alright, miss," one of them said. "These cuffs will block your quirk. I'm going to approach you and put them on."

I nodded, shocked they were actually listening instead of resorting to violence. Very different from back home. "Just don't touch my skin." They both appeared normal enough, no obvious abilities. That could be disastrous. When I drained someone with no special powers, it simply sucked the life from them.

"Understood. No sudden movements." The officer moved cautiously, and I stayed crouched on the ground, holding as still as I could. He cuffed one wrist, then pulled my arms behind my back and cuffed my hands together. I felt his fingers brush the back of my hand as he let go, but nothing happened.

The other officer approached me. "Any more of your buddies up here?"

"I'm not with those guys."

He laughed as his partner pulled me to my feet. "Of course not! We've never heard that line before." The two of them walked me toward the open area where the battle had gone down, then sat me down on the ground with others who were also cuffed. I recognized some of the criminals who had come in the van with me.

It seemed like I sat there for hours as the police and heroes did the work of sorting everything out. Most of the others were hauled away, until there were only a few of us left. A young woman approached me in an EMT uniform. "Are you hurt?" She reached for my head. I jerked away from her touch, before I remembered how the cuffs worked. She offered me a smile. "I just want to check you for injuries, you have some blood there."

"That's fine. I'm just a little jumpy."

"I would be too. What a day!" I wondered why she was being so kind to me, when for all appearances I was just another bad guy. "Look up here," she said, shining a flashlight into my eyes. "Hmm. I think you may have a concussion. I'd like to get you to the medic station and take a better look."

She got an officer to lift me to my feet and walk me to another area. It was a makeshift hospital, and I recognized some of the guys on the cots. I was surprised that so many were still alive. The officials were going above and beyond to help a bunch of criminals. Weird.

After the EMT checked me over, she left me on a cot. I briefly thought about running for it, but my hands were still cuffed behind my back, and officers were patrolling the entire area. I was scoping the place out when I saw him again. My target. He saw me, too.

As he approached, I tried to shrink myself down, hoping that maybe he was coming this way for some other reason. He stopped beside my cot, an officer at his side. "This one," he said, meaning me.

I looked from him, to the officer, afraid to speak.

The man crouched in front of me. The goggles hung loose around his neck, and his gaze was intense. He had a scar under one eye. "Tell him what you told me."

My mouth was dry. "I didn't want to be part of this. They forced me to help them. The leader, he has a way to control people." The words sounded ridiculous, even to me. I waited for them to laugh in my face.

"Got it," the officer said, snapping his notebook shut. "I'll be sure to pass this information along."

"I appreciate that," the man said flatly.

"Of course, Eraser, sir."

As the officer hurried away, the other man, Eraser, was still crouched before me. "Thank you," he finally said.

"For what?"

He shrugged. "Being honest. It's refreshing."

"I'm just grateful you didn't kill me."

"Why would I kill you? You're not a threat."

I felt myself bristle. "Well not at the moment," I griped.

His gaze was on me again. "Really?"

I regretted my words. "I just meant I can handle myself."

"Then why didn't you defend yourself against me?"

"Because you weren't hurting anyone."

"I gave you a concussion. Why didn't you fight back?" His intense stare bore into me.

"They sent me after you for some particular reason. I didn't want their plan to work."

He was quiet for a moment. "You were prepared to sacrifice yourself for the greater good?"

I snorted. "When you put it like that, it sounds all noble and shit. I couldn't let those idiots win because of me."

"Interesting. What's your name?"

"Marie," I told him. With that, he was gone.

I spent that night in the medical ward of the local jail. They didn't consider me dangerous, so I was under minimal security, cuffed to the bed with a guard at the door. In the morning, they ran some scans and cleared me of any serious damage. I was moved to a cell, which thankfully, I didn't have to share.

After lunch, a man in a suit came to talk. "You must be Marie," he said. He was a tall, thin guy with a pleasant face. "I'm Detective Tsukauchi. I think we might be able to help one another."

He explained his offer in simple enough terms. Normally, I would be heading to prison for my involvement in the attack, but the police had a way to confirm my story. They had someone who could read your memories and project them to show others. The detective told me that if I cooperated, and gave them whatever information I could on the villains, they might be able to work out a plea deal for me.

Of course I agreed, and the next day I found myself before a room full of strangers, cuffed to a metal chair, with a mind reader staring into my eyes. "As long as you don't resist, this shouldn't hurt," he told me, and pressed his fingertips into my temples. The memories flickered across the screen like a movie, and only gave me a slight headache. It must have been enough, because afterwards, the detective smiled and told me that he'd be in touch.

Almost a week passed at the jail before I was paged to a meeting room. An officer cuffed me to the table, and left me to wait. When the door finally opened again, to my surprise, it was not the detective. It was Eraser, along with …a large hamster in a suit? They sat down across from me.

"We've met before, but I never introduced myself properly. I'm Eraserhead." I waited for him to offer his hand, but he did not. "I'd like you to meet Nezu."

The hamster held out his little paw, and I shook it. He smiled at me, then he spoke. "Marie, isn't it? A pleasure to finally meet you." My mouth hung open.

Eraser broke the awkward silence. "We are here about your plea deal. Since you helped Tsukauchi with his investigation, they were able to grant you community service. How does that sound?"

I sat up a little straighter. "Sounds great. Better than prison." I waited for more, but Eraser looked at Nezu.

Nezu looked at me innocently. "You haven't lived in Japan for very long, have you?"

My breath caught. This oversized gerbil knew. "That's right," I said softly.

"It seems you've been all over the world: India, Brazil, Scotland..." His tone was mild, almost sweet. "Marie, what are you running from?" He might appear cuddly, but he got right to the heart of the matter. Brutal.

I took a deep breath. "I'm tired of people using me. I just want to be left alone."

He smiled. "I understand, dear. Probably more than you'll ever know."

Eraser spoke up again. "You're from the United States originally."

I nodded, feeling shaken.

He pulled out a brown folder and laid it on the table between us. "You've been affiliated with villain groups before. These reports go back decades." My name was printed across the folder in bold letters: Anna Marie D'Ancanto.

There it was. They knew everything. "What do you want?"

Nezu held up his paw. "I'd like to invite you to work for me. Given your history, I think you're the perfect fit."

Who the hell were these guys? Spies? Assassins? They knew all about me, so what could they possibly want me for? This might end up worse than being yanked around by villains.

After a moment, I let out a shaky breath and looked up at them. "What kind of work is it?"

Eraser let out a tired sigh. "Teaching high school."