She defies all of my dreams
And expectations she won't meet
I'll pack my bags and try to leave
I wish I could - Just My Type by The Vamps

It was cold. Shota shivered in his leather jacket, his eyes skating over his friends as he saw a woman leaning against a wall, staring at him like he should know who she is. He would have remembered her, her eyes were as large and fragile as a doll's. Just as blue as well. Her skin was the color of thick honey and her hair was a shocking pink done in two long French braids that began over her temples and hung nearly to her waist.

His friends wandered away, as he knew they would. It was freezing, and they'd just come from one cozy bar with two too many beers, making them eager to find another bar just like it. Or a cold bed that might take two to warm properly. He looked at the crowd, then back at the pink-haired woman who was now smiling at him.

He took a step toward her and like magic they were both leaning against the same wall. The sounds of a karaoke bar poured out of an adjacent doorway while people thronged the streets on this Halloween night in Harajuku. He remembered this night in a bleary sort of way. Amazingly his small group of friends had gotten this Halloween off. He'd gone to look at women who weren't dressed for the weather and to drink a beer. He was almost twenty one, just a handful more days.

"So, come here often?" She spoke in bright American English.

He frowned and she spoke again in Japanese, "Oh no you don't. Besides, does this suit me?" Her accent was drawling and sweet. It was as if she'd stepped off the street in Kyoto. Just like Mio, a pretty girl he'd rescued a few nights ago and - if memory serves - was wandering around here now.

"It doesn't." He said with a snort, "How did you switch? Who are you?"

The pink braids twitched as she shook her head. "My name is Mara. As for how I switched, you tell me. This is your dream."

Shota looked around again, noticing the slowed crowd and the awkward music playing. "That makes some sense. But you still do not. Not to say I might not dream you up, but those dreams aren't like this."

"I can't say I wouldn't rather be in that dream. But I can tell you that if we hadn't met, I wouldn't be here. I know no more." She nodded sharply with a mocking grin, making the braids that had been hanging in front of her move to the back.

The bleariness was gone like it'd never been there. He looked up, and the crowd disappeared, the music stopped and he was his natural age. A glance at his hands verified it. New callus and wrinkles replacing skin that simply hadn't lived long enough yet. He reached up, his fingers tracing over a thick scar under his eye as reality flooded back.

"At least in a dream I can stand. And see you clearly. That was so strange though." He slumped even more into the wall. "I haven't thought about Mio in ages. I was just about to spend a very memorable hour with her. She was dressed as a witch that night. She never even took the costume off." He chuckled, "You won't remember that will you?"

"Nope! I'm just a leftover thought. Are we switching to the sex now?" Blue eyes twinkled in suppressed mirth.

He laughed loudly, raking fingers through his hair, "You're not my type."

"I'm not? Then why am I still here? Even your little Mio of the Coven is gone." She raised a rich sable brow, "It's the braids. The boys love the braids."

"Not the braids." His lips were still curled by the earlier laughter. "Although now that I think about it…"

Her long braids unraveled, leaving extremely long wavy hair to cascade down her back and curl around her hips. Her clothes had been slightly more weather appropriate than the revelers had been. Jeans tucked into combat boots and a tight t-shirt with Ichigo from Bleach splashed across a chest size not often found in Japan. Strangely, he had one just like it at home buried in the bottom of his closet. He mentally added a leather coat to match the one he was still wearing.

"You said something about changing the dream?" Scenery shifted to that love motel the witch had brought him to all those years ago. "Not exactly the Seireitei."

Mara fell laughing on to the bed, silk sheets fluttering to frame her curves. "Maybe not, but you'll still get to use your sword."

Shota woke up with a start in an unfamiliar bed. His body ached, and not in a delicious expenditure of energy from his rapidly fading dream. His fingers gingerly touched what had been a dark grey eye and encountered a soft eyepatch. He wanted to get up and see to himself, but he knew that wasn't happening anytime soon. An uncomfortable burn between his thighs confirmed that he had been hospitalized and had a catheter inserted.

The room looked suspiciously like one in the medical area of UA. He lifted his arm, where he'd expected to see an IV taped to his hand and a pulse/ox meter dangling from his finger. They were naked. His brows drew down in confusion. A quick look confirmed there were no monitors, no drugs, nothing except the sun brightening the window from behind an opaque curtain. He lifted his head, a macabre need to look at the train wreck of his body.

Shota's uncovered eye widened in shock. There were definitely two legs under those blankets. With a giddy feeling, he tried to move his toes. They responded, spreading wide then curling with a small cramp. He flipped back the covers, he was wearing a cheap hospital gown, so that tracked with his memories, but the leg did not. It was whole, though still mottled with bruises. The leg should be so much medical waste! Not that he wasn't grateful, but he was confused and that confusion just didn't sit well with him.

A peremptory knock shattered his train of thought. He didn't even open his mouth before the door opened and a man and woman entered, showing a pale-faced Kyoka who stood just outside.

"Good morning, Shota," The tall man said in crisp English.

Shota wanted to listen to him, but the woman he'd just been thoroughly debauched with in a dream was standing near the door. Her hair was different, though still braided, just in a multitude of pink braids instead of two long ones. Her eyes were wide and blue, though. She was wearing ripped jeans tucked into Doc Martens laced in pink ribbons. The shirt was different: a loose, flowy boho style with big green and pink blooms.

"You used a quirk on me." His voice was tight with anger.

The man exchanged a look with her then turned dark eyes back to Shota. "If you mean, 'thank you so much for my leg, doctor-kun', then yes."

Shota took a deep breath, "What? The leg?" He pulled an angry eye away from the woman who was now standing against the door with crossed arms and a downcast expression. He redirected his sight to the man, "I have small patience. Who are you, and what happened to me yesterday?"

"My my." He said with a near sinister chuckle, "I will start at the beginning. My name is Kapu. The woman you're glaring at is Mara. Please stop, you're making her nervous."

"She should be." Shota growled. "I'm going to sue her to within an inch of her life. She'll go to prison! She was fucking around in my head!"

Mara's arms tightened and her shoulders hunched like she was trying to shrink into her body. Kapu's entire stance changed to pure arrogance and frost. "Now look at what you have done." For all the world like Shota was an unruly child. "I fixed your leg yesterday. Without Mara's aid, I would have failed, and not even your most talented healer would have been able to save it. She asked, if it makes you feel even a little less angry at her. You should get down on your hands and knees and thank her properly!" His voice rose as he finished, pointing at Mara. "Moreover she did not do anything that you did not sorely need. I'm sorry if you had a couple of naughty dreams," he sneered at Shota's discomfort, "but she is not to be blamed! She saved that leg; maybe even your miserable life."

Kapu stood breathing heavily over him. A second ticked past before a hand shot out, and he ripped the gauze from Shota's eye, making the skin feel raw from the tape. "See? Your eye, too. She may have saved your quirk, you thankless babooz."

Shota's eyes narrowed, "Thank you." It was delivered in a tone flatter than a cutting board.

Kapu gave Shota one of the coldest looks he'd ever received. "This asshole will live," he intoned like a regal announcing a beheading. "I'll check your graciousness tomorrow. Maybe if you're not being stupid, we can get you walking. Either way, you don't have to worry about Mara any longer. I only brought her here to see how a real Japanese Hero acts. I'm afraid you've let her down."

Shota thumped back into his pillow. 'This guy has the worst bedside manner in the universe; smug shit.' He thought with an internal snort of disdain. 'Doctor-kun, my rosy ass.' Then he closed his eyes, the momentary happiness drowning in the realization that the same could be said for him and the way he'd treated his savior. His saviors.

"Wait." Shota turned, propping himself up on his elbow, "Look, it's been a strange morning. I apologize." He couldn't help his rough voice, he was still angry and now a touch embarrassed. Not a good mix. His dark eyes flashed to the woman, "Mara is it? Stay for a moment. I will try not to antagonize you further."

Kapu leaned into her, speaking quietly, to which Mara shot Shota a teary glance, then nodded. "It's fine. I can walk out anytime. Thank you for caring, Kahui."

Kapu spoke again as he opened the door, framing an anxious looking Kyoka, "You will see that I am more than lovely to behold if you make her unable to finish rounds. There are others who will not care that what she can do to help them might give them a pleasant evening in her company. People she can help today so I can get off this god-forsaken island and back to my own." He slammed the door and Mara jumped at the sudden noise.

She laughed shakily, and Shota realized he'd actually made her cry. Now that his mood had moved from confused anger to just plain curiosity, he could hear it clearly. She walked with an air of confidence to a chair in the room, dragging it to his bedside where she sat out of reach. She crossed then uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, making Shota's lips twitch in a smile.

"I will literally break your mind if you laugh."

Shota raised his brows, "I thought you were a hero."

"And I thought you didn't believe it." She seemed to be gaining confidence as she spoke. "You did ask me to help you. I wish I had been able to find something else, but I was forced to turn to harsher methods."

"Something that left what? Residue?"

She nodded, "In the field we call it Psychic Backlash. Actually a kind of residue is a good way to describe it. But really all you had was just a mirror image with things you remembered about me. Maybe just my looks, not even a clear mirror for how out of it you were. I've talked to others I've twisted and there's only a few variables." She ticked them off on her fingers. "How well the subject knows me already. What need I had to call forth. Finally, how hard I have to pull."

"For me?"

"Worst of the lot, unfortunately. I tried to talk to you, but you couldn't do it. It's always awkward, but, no surprise, some would rather do anything not to have me…" She shot Shota a look, "I believe your words were 'fuck around with your head.'"

"You did though. You said you pull on needs. That you had to turn to harsher methods."

Mara clasped her hands, "You could only think about pain and being maimed." Her doe eyes found Shota's, her pain obvious now. This was real, not faked for his sake. "Kapu needs testosterone to engage his quirk. He's the best healer, but his conditions leave something to be desired." She snorted. "Anyway, I had to flood your body. The fastest way was to trigger your need for sex."

"You had sex with me!?" Anger and a hard spike of embarrassment made sweat pop out all over his body.

She shook her head, "I certainly did not. I merely told your body that you needed and wanted to release. According to scientific understanding there's four things a human needs to survive. Beyond that, there's a couple of emotional needs I can call on if they're intrinsic. The basic human need to sleep is the easiest and most useful of all for me to use. The emotional needs are nearly impossible to trigger in a meaningful way. But, most people want sex." She blushed slightly, refusing to meet his eyes.

Shota ground his teeth. "So." He tried to reorder his thoughts, "That's why my dream you looked and acted differently. Not a lot, but enough."

"If it makes you feel better, you visited my dreams too."

Shota felt a blush climb his cheeks. She had a spectacular sex dream with him as the star? He felt giddy - and sick to his stomach.

She gave him a knowing smile. "You watched my father die with me. It was intensely personal, but not what you're thinking."

"Does it always work that way? Sex for your victims, a random dream for you?"

She stood, "My father's death is not some random dream! And if you're a victim, it's only of your own pervy thoughts!" Her snarl was all too real as well. "They're your dreams, dude. If you hate me this much just unimagine me. You know, with as much complaining as you're doing, I am positive you loved it."

Shota realized two things as she stormed out of the room, slamming the door. He is an asshole and he really liked that dream. Damn it.

AN/ I'm using real anime and manga popular between 1990 - 2015. Black Butler is great. You can still find and read Ah! My Goddess from the last chapter, and Bleach is still one of my favorites (though should not be read by the faint of heart) and you can watch it on most streaming services. DO NOT watch the movie on Netflix. Fair warning. Aizawa's comment about the Seireitei and Mara's joke about swords is just playful Bleach-themed sex banter. Now, head-con, Aizawa likes Shonen manga! Accepted! Babooz means 'idiot'.

Now, if I could only get Mosevic to read Bleach... I love him anyway; thank you for your support!