Mumen Rider in MHA

The ash hadn't cleared from the alley yet.

Burnt debris lined the brick walls. Trash bins melted into black lumps. Fire had chewed through everything it touched—except the two people Satoru pulled out just before the blast hit.

They were alive because of him. That part no one could deny.

And yet, the rumors didn't stop.

---

Minato Base smelled like disinfectant and charred cloth that day.

Satoru walked in with his helmet clipped under his arm, armor slightly scorched. A few heads turned. No one spoke.

He passed a pair of junior heroes whispering by the vending machine.

> "He wasn't even supposed to be on that call, was he?"

> "Not technically. He just… showed up."

> "They say he's unstable. Got a complex."

> "I heard they're gonna reassign him to desk duty."

They didn't realize he could hear every word.

He kept walking.

---

In the hallway, Captain Eizo leaned against a bulletin board, black coat draped like a shadow.

> "You stood between the fire and the family. Again."

Satoru blinked, then lowered his voice.

> "They said I overstepped."

> "Maybe you did."

A pause.

> "Would you do it again?"

Satoru looked down at his hands. The knuckles were bandaged. Still trembling slightly from the aftershock.

> "In a heartbeat."

He nodded. No praise. No scolding. Just quiet approval.

> "Then stand by that. That's what a hero is."

---

That night, Kana sat on the roof of a run-down arcade, legs dangling over the edge. She had ditched school again. Didn't care.

In her hands: a stolen tablet, loaded with the day's headlines.

> "Youth Support Hero Interferes Again—How Far is Too Far?"

"Is Mumen Rider a Menace or a Martyr?"

"Pro-Heroes Say: 'We Didn't Ask for His Help.'"

She watched a clip—him dragging the civilians away from the fire, limping, smoke swallowing his silhouette.

No fancy finish. No explosion.

Just his damn stubborn back, refusing to fall.

> "Idiot," she whispered.

But she didn't turn it off.

---

Elsewhere, in a tiny hospital room, Sayaka tucked the blanket higher over Satoru's sleeping mother. The older woman had fallen asleep mid-conversation again.

Sayaka reached into her pocket, pulled out a folded photo: Satoru in his new armor, standing beside Keiko and Miyako outside Minato Base.

She placed it on the nightstand, gently.

> "He's doing everything he can," she murmured.

Then added, under her breath:

> "Too much, if you ask me."

---

Satoru, meanwhile, sat alone in the back of the flower shop, bandaging his hand with his teeth.

Miyako entered carrying two cups of tea.

> "You should let me help."

He shook his head, smiling tiredly. "It's fine."

She sat anyway. Didn't speak for a long time.

Then, softly:

> "They're wrong, you know."

> "Yeah?"

> "You're not reckless. You just… care more than they're used to."

He didn't answer.

So she added:

> "Please don't let them change you."

He finally looked up.

> "I won't."