Mumen Rider in MHA

The hospital hallway hummed with the low, steady beep of distant heart monitors and the whisper of wheels against linoleum.

Satoru stood outside his mother's room, holding a paper bag of groceries and a bouquet of wilting carnations. He hadn't slept properly in two days. His back ached from patrol. His armor smelled faintly of soot.

He didn't go in right away.

He just stood there, forehead pressed to the cool wall, letting the silence wrap around him.

---

Inside, Sayaka sat beside his mother's bed. Her hands moved with practiced ease—adjusting the IV line, fluffing the pillow, checking the chart.

But her expression was softer today. There was no sarcasm in her eyes. Just concern.

> "He's still coming here every night, even when I tell him not to," she said, almost to herself.

Satoru's mother smiled faintly. "That's my boy. Stubborn as hell."

Sayaka looked at her, then back at the door.

> "It's going to break him."

> "Then be there to catch him."

The words made Sayaka still, just for a second.

Then the door creaked open.

---

Satoru entered quietly, setting the groceries on the counter. His eyes flicked between the two women—his mother, pale but smiling, and Sayaka, who looked like she had something to say but wouldn't say it.

> "I brought your favorite. That awful melon soda you like."

His mother chuckled. "You spoil me."

He pulled up a chair and sat, rubbing his bandaged wrist.

Sayaka watched him. The stiffness in his shoulders. The heaviness in his eyes.

> "You're not okay."

> "Never said I was."

> "You don't have to carry it all alone."

> "Someone has to."

Silence.

Then his mother reached out—thin fingers curling gently around his.

> "You don't need to die to matter, Satoru."

His breath caught in his throat.

He didn't cry. But he didn't speak either.

Sayaka stood, giving them space, but before she left, she placed something on the nightstand.

A clipping from a newspaper. The headline read:

> "Local Support Hero Saves Lives During Chemical Spill."

The photo showed Satoru in full gear, crouched beside two crying children.

Sayaka didn't say anything.

She just let the truth speak for itself.

---

Meanwhile...

At Minato Base, Keiko slammed her hand against the table.

> "He saved lives. Again. And you're punishing him?"

The senior officer rubbed his temple. "He's not licensed to engage without direct command. This is protocol."

> "And where were the pros when the building went up in flames?"

No answer.

She leaned in, eyes sharp.

> "You don't like him because he reminds you what you're not."

The room went still.

Then she turned and walked out, slamming the door behind her.

---

Back at the flower shop, Miyako watered the plants with careful hands.

Outside, someone had taped a handwritten note to the door.

> "Thank you for saving my sister."

She didn't recognize the handwriting. But she knew who they meant.

She pressed her hand to the glass and whispered, "Please don't break."

---

He didn't speak of the weight he carried. But everywhere he went—someone else was trying to hold a piece of it for him.