A Rider Kick in Marvel Rewrite

The sun shines on Musutafu, a warm, gentle kiss on the skin. Pedestrians stroll along the sidewalks, savoring the pleasant weather. Among them walks a figure rather out of place.

It is Ace, but not exactly. Today, Kintaros rides shotgun, his influence subtly altering Ace's appearance. A kimono with bold yellow and black stripes drapes over Ace's frame, a nod to Kintaros's color scheme. A matching yellow paper umbrella shields them from the sun. Ace's black hair, usually sleek and modern, is now pulled back into a ponytail with a striking yellow highlight.

It is your turn today, huh? Ace thinks.

Kintaros hums in agreement. Yes, Ace. I thought it would be nice to experience more of your world.

Of the four Taros, Kintaros is definitely the tamest. Momotaros, left unchecked, inevitably seeks out a fight, his boisterous nature leading to property damage and the occasional run-in with the authorities. Urataros, with his smooth-talking charm, turns every outing into a quest to woo every woman in a five-mile radius, leaving Ace to deal with the aftermath of broken hearts and awkward encounters. As for Ryutaros… well, his antics are so unpredictable, so utterly random, that Ace can't risk letting him roam free without supervision. Vandalism, impromptu dance-offs, and accidentally inciting public disturbances are Ryutaros's bread and butter.

Kintaros, on the other hand, simply enjoys observing. He's content to soak in the atmosphere, appreciate the scenery, and occasionally offer a stoic observation about the nature of strength or the human spirit. Ace has learned to appreciate these quiet days, a welcome respite from the usual chaos.

Alright, Kintaros. Anything you want to do? Ace asks in his head.

Just walk. Experience. Kintaros responds, his voice resonating deep within Ace's mind. This… Musutafu… is quite different from our previous world.

As they walk, Kintaros surveys the people around them. There's a group of students laughing and joking, their Quirks subtly manifesting—a faint glow around one's hands, feathers fluttering from another's hair. There's an elderly couple holding hands, their faces etched with years of shared experiences. A street vendor hawks takoyaki, the savory aroma filling the air.

"Today is a fine day. The sun shines, the breeze whispers, and folks are enjoying themselves. Makes you want to wipe away your tears with this."

Kintaros produces a tissue from seemingly nowhere, though there is no one crying.

Just then, Kintaros's gaze lands on a woman struggling near a vending machine. She is kneeling, her arm reaching underneath. Is she missing something? Kintaros wonders.

The woman has wavy blonde hair that cascades down her back. Aqua eyes peer out from behind glasses. Her attire includes a white dress shirt, pink waistcoat, and gray pants. It's a practical outfit, functional and engineered.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you require some help?" Kintaros asks, approaching her.

The woman looks up, startled. She has wavy blonde hair and aqua-colored eyes framed by glasses. "Oh, no, I'm alright, thanks," she says, waving a dismissive hand. "Just dropped a coin."

Kintaros will hear none of it. A lady is in distress, and he will lend his strength. "Nonsense! My strength is yours to command!" He steps closer to the machine, his eyes gleaming with determination. "Allow me."

Before she can protest, Kintaros grips the vending machine with both hands. With a grunt, he effortlessly lifts the heavy metal box a few feet into the air. Canned drinks rattle inside, threatening to burst free.

"There you go!" Kintaros says with a smile. "Check now!"

The woman's eyes widen, a mix of shock and disbelief on her face. "Uh, wow, thanks," she stammers, peering under the vending machine. "I think I see it…"

But fate, it seems, has a cruel sense of humor. As Kintaros shifts his weight, his foot lands on a small, unassuming rock. His balance falters. His eyes widen.

[CRASH!]

The vending machine crashes back down, creating a real mess. Glass breaks, metal twists, and soda cans burst open, spraying sugary drinks everywhere. The street now smells like a candy store exploded.

Kintaros is shocked and embarrassed. The woman stands still, soda dripping down her face.

"I... I think I may have just made things a whole lot worse," Kintaros says quietly, his voice barely audible.

Kintaros frantically searches his kimono and produces a clean, white handkerchief. He thrusts it toward the woman, his face a mask of remorse. "I am so sorry! Please, wipe yourself off."

She takes the handkerchief, a small smile gracing her lips despite the sticky situation. "Thank you," she says, dabbing at her face.

Kintaros bows deeply, nearly knocking her over in the process. "I cannot apologize enough! This is entirely my fault!" Straightening, a thought strikes him. "Perhaps I should take your clothes to a dry cleaner? I will pay, of course!"

She chuckles, waving a hand dismissively. "Oh, it's alright. It'll dry in a few minutes, and it is getting hotter by the minute," she says, gesturing to the sun, already hard at work evaporating the soda. "Really, don't worry about it."

He still feels guilty. "Are you sure? I can at least buy you a new drink," he offers.

"I am quite sure. Thank you, anyway."

Kintaros sighs, accepting her forgiveness, though he still feels awkward. "Please, allow me to at least accompany you until the clothes have dried. As an apology."

She smiles again. "If it makes you feel better."

They walk over to a nearby park bench and sit down. Kintaros shifts uncomfortably. An introduction is in order.

"I am Ace," he says, offering a polite nod.

The woman smiles. "It's nice to meet you, Ace. I'm Melissa Shield."

"Melissa Shield," Kintaros repeats, savoring the sound of her name. "A good name. It sounds… strong."

A faint blush creeps up Melissa's cheeks. "Thank you," she murmurs, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

Kintaros leans forward, his eyes studying her features with genuine curiosity. "Forgive my bluntness, but you are not Japanese, are you?" He pauses, tilting his head slightly. "American, perhaps?"

Melissa's eyes widen slightly. "That's right," she says with a small laugh.

"So, are you here as a tourist?" he inquires, his gaze sweeping over the surrounding scenery. "Experiencing the sights and sounds of Musutafu?"

"Something like that," Melissa replies, her tone a bit vague. "I'm here with my father. It's because of his work."

"Oh?" Kintaros responds, intrigued. "And what does your father do?"

"He's having a business meeting," Melissa explains. "For the next upcoming I-Island Expo."

Kintaros frowns, his brow furrowing in confusion. "I… Island? What is this I-Island?" he asks, his voice laced with genuine curiosity. He's never heard of this place before. Is it some hidden paradise? A secret training ground for sumo wrestlers?

Melissa's face lights up, her enthusiasm bubbling to the surface. "Oh, I-Island is amazing!" she exclaims, her voice filled with excitement. "It's a mobile island where the world's top scientists live and work! It's a center for research and development, especially for support items for heroes."

Kintaros leans forward, eager to learn more. "A mobile island? Tell me more. What is it like?"

Melissa grins, happy to share her knowledge. "It's a state-of-the-art place, constantly pushing the boundaries of science and technology! My dad works there. He's a scientist."

"I-Island is basically the Hollywood of Science," she says, "It's where they create most of the equipment heroes use." She pauses, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "It's also where I study. I want to be a support item engineer."

"That is an admirable goal," Kintaros states, his voice laced with respect. To aid those who protect, it is a way of upholding the balance.

Melissa nods, her aqua eyes gleaming with determination. "I want to be a great support item engineer. Just like my dad." She pauses, her gaze softening. "He's always been my inspiration."

Kintaros can feel the girl's drive to help those who cannot help themselves, a force that resonates with his own protective nature. He leans in, curiosity piqued. "Did you ever wish to be a hero… yourself?"

Melissa's expression shifts, a hint of wistfulness flickering across her features. "When I was little, of course," she admits with a rueful smile. "Every kid dreams of being a hero, right? Saving the day, inspiring hope…" She trails off, her voice tinged with a hint of melancholy.

She sighs and continues, "But then, when I was five, I got the news. I was Diagnosed as Quirkless." The light fades from her eyes, a shadow passing over her face.

Melissa's face brightens once again. "But then my dad and Uncle Mi—my Uncle showed me that there were other ways to be a hero," she explains, her voice regaining its earlier enthusiasm. "They told me that being part of the support crew, creating the tools that help pros push their limits, meant I could still be a hero to them."

"So, I decided that I would be like my dad," she finishes, her gaze locking onto Kintaros's with unwavering resolve. "To create support gears for heroes. That is the path I would go down. Support them through tech."

"That is very inspiring," he says aloud, his voice laced with admiration, but a subtle frown creases his brow. "But do you believe that a Quirk is needed to be called a hero?"

Melissa shrugs, her eyes clouding over slightly. "I guess so," she says quietly. "When there's a big fight—like between a hero and a villain—what can I do? I can't exactly jump in and punch the villain." She laughs mirthlessly, her voice laced with self-deprecation. "I'd just be in the way. At best."

Kintaros stares at her, a strange look on his face. "You believe that true strength lies in the muscles and Quirks? Is that so?" He pauses, tilting his head to the side. "Then you are wrong. I have seen many battles, and what I have learned is that what truly matters… is the strength of the heart."

"The strong heart?" Melissa asks, her eyebrow raised.

"Yes," Kintaros declares, his voice rising with conviction. "The willingness to stand up for what is right, even when you are scared. The compassion to help those in need, even when it is difficult. That is the true measure of a hero."

"Being strong and defeating bad guys does not matter," Kintaros says. "What matters is your heart, your willingness to act, your desire to do good." He pauses, his gaze softening. "That is what makes a hero."

"That is why I believe you can be a hero, Melissa," he declares.

A warmth spreads through Melissa's chest. Never before had anyone looked at her, Quirkless and ordinary, and seen a hero. She has had her family and All Might tell her she can be a hero through her support item developments, but this was the first time someone said she could be a hero, plain and simple. Her eyes start to water.

"I…" Melissa struggles to find the words, her throat tightening with emotion. "I don't know what to say."

Kintaros smiles gently, offering another tissue. "Then say nothing. Just believe it."

Melissa accepts the tissue, dabbing at her eyes. "Thank you," she whispers, her voice thick with gratitude. "You know, I think I needed to hear that." A genuine smile spreads across her face, chasing away the last vestiges of doubt. She stands up, dusting off her pants. "Well, Ace, I think my clothes are dry. I should probably get going. I'm supposed to meet my dad soon."

"Please allow me to walk you," Kintaros insists.

"Okay," Melissa agrees, happy for the company.

They strolled through the park, enjoying a comfortable silence. Kintaros pointed out the various flora and fauna, sharing his insights with an unexpected gentleness. He even helped a little boy retrieve a balloon that had become stuck in a tree, using his strength to gently shake the branch until it fell.

Their peaceful stroll ends abruptly. A group of thugs approaches, their intentions clear. These guys are common, a pack of wolves, looking to prey on the innocent. They leer, eyeing Melissa like a prize. Their leader, a burly man with tattoos snaking up his arms, smirks, blocking their path.

"Well, well, well," the burly man sneers, his gaze fixed on Shield. "What have we here? A couple of lost tourists?" His cronies snicker, closing in. "Maybe we can help you find your way… somewhere more fun."

Kintaros' kind demeanor vanishes. The air shifts, the temperature dropping.

***

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Advance chapters are in my P@|r3on - Najicablitz