A Rider Kick in Marvel Rewrite

Shino Sosaki, known to the world as the Pro Hero Mandalay, adjusted the collar of her simple blouse, a stark contrast to her vibrant hero costume. Her red bob, usually styled with playful cat ears, was neatly tucked behind her ears, revealing a face etched with a weariness that belied her thirty-one years.

Mandalay's life had always been intertwined with heroism. The leader of the Wild, Wild Pussycats, she dedicated her life to mountain rescues and aiding those in need. But beneath the confident exterior of a seasoned Pro Hero lay a deep well of familial responsibility, most notably towards her young cousin, Kota Izumi.

Kota, clutching a worn All Might action figure, stood beside her, his expression as unreadable as ever. The six-year-old, his black hair falling over his stoic face, had been through more than any child should. The loss of his parents, the Pro Hero duo Water Hose, had left an indelible mark, fostering a deep-seated resentment towards heroes and their perceived neglect of family.

"Are you ready?" Mandalay asked, her voice gentle, her hand resting on his small shoulder.

Kota shrugged, his eyes fixed on the sterile white walls of the hospital corridor. "I guess."

Mandalay sighed softly. She knew this wasn't easy for him. Visiting his parents in the hospital, battered and bruised from their latest battle, was a constant reminder of the dangers they faced, the dangers that ultimately claimed their lives. But she also knew it was important for him to see them, to understand that even heroes, with all their extraordinary powers, were still vulnerable, still human.

They reached the door to room 304. Mandalay took a deep breath and offered Kota a reassuring smile. "Let's go see them."

She pushed the door open, revealing Hiroshi and Asami Izumi, Water Hose, lying in adjacent beds, their bodies swathed in bandages. Machines beeped softly, monitoring their vital signs. Despite their injuries, they managed weak smiles as they saw their son and sister-in-law enter.

"Kota!" Asami croaked, her voice raspy.

"Hey, squirt," Hiroshi added, his tone gruff but affectionate.

Kota's eyes lit up, his stoic facade melting away as he rushed to his parents' bedsides. "Mom! Dad!"

He threw his arms around Asami, careful not to jostle her too much. Then, he moved to Hiroshi, offering a gentler hug. "You're okay," he whispered, relief evident in his voice.

"We're okay, Kota," Asami reassured, stroking his hair. "Thanks for bringing him, Shino."

Shino smiled. "Of course. Are there any problems? Anything I can get you?"

"Nah," Hiroshi replied, wincing as he shifted slightly. "We'll be fine. Just need a bit of rest. The doctors say we'll make a full recovery."

Shino bit her lip, her gaze lingering on their bandaged forms. "I saw the fight on TV. I thought you were... I was scared." She shuddered, remembering the near-death experience. "Thank goodness Kamen Rider showed up."

Kota's head shot up, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I saw it too! He was so cool! He beat up that villain real good!" Kota started mimicking Kuuga's fighting stance, throwing air punches and kicks with surprising energy.

Hiroshi chuckled, a rare sound that warmed Shino's heart. "Yeah, that Kamen Rider is something else. Strong."

"He's amazing!" Kota exclaimed, his All Might action figure momentarily forgotten. "I want to be just like him!"

Shino's smile tightened slightly. "It's fine to look up to Kamen Rider, Kota, but you have to remember he's still a vigilante. He's not licensed, and he's operating outside the law." She did not want Kota to admire rule breakers, no matter how heroic their actions might appear.

Hiroshi waved a dismissive hand. "Aw, let the kid have his heroes, Shino. Besides, we might not even be here if it weren't for that Rider. He saved our bacon."

Asami nodded in agreement. "He's got a point, Shino. I'm grateful. Very grateful." The gratitude was clear in her eyes, a silent that she owed this stranger a debt she could never repay.

Shino conceded with a sigh. "Alright, alright. But don't forget who the real heroes are, okay? The ones who follow the rules and protect people the right way." She knew that Kota's admiration could be fleeting, but it was important to steer him toward the path of responsible heroism.

Hiroshi shifted the subject, his brow furrowing. "What happened to that muscle-bound maniac after the fight? You know, Muscular?"

Shino exhaled, some of her tenseness fading. "He's in custody. They're sending him to Tartarus. So, good riddance to him, at least." Tartarus was the maximum-security prison designed to hold the most dangerous villains, a place where even the most powerful Quirks were rendered useless.

Asami shivered. "That's a relief. He's a menace." She glanced at her son, a silent warning against any fascination with such brutality.

A thoughtful silence descended upon the room, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the machines. Then, Kota spoke up, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Kamen Rider said he didn't have a Quirk, right?"

"That's what he claimed," Shino confirmed, tilting her head slightly.

"That's hard to believe, isn't it?" Asami mused, exchanging a look with Hiroshi. How could someone be so strong, so fast, without some kind of innate ability?

Hiroshi scratched his chin. "Yeah, you'd think so. But he didn't seem like he was lying. And he was pretty clear about it."

"Maybe it's a support item?" Shino suggested, thinking of the countless gadgets and inventions that enhanced Quirk abilities. "Some kind of advanced tech that gives him those powers?"

"Could be," Asami agreed, but something in her expression suggested she wasn't entirely convinced.

"But if he doesn't have a Quirk," Kota interjected, his voice filled with a newfound wonder, "and he's still that strong... that means anyone can be a hero, right?" He clutched his All Might action figure, but his gaze was fixed on the window, lost in thought. The possibility, the idea that heroism wasn't limited to those born with special powers, seemed to ignite something within him, a spark of hope that had long been dormant. The implications of that thought resonated through the hospital room.

Melissa Shield sat at her desk in her hotel room, a half-eaten room service bento box pushed aside. The television played a continuous loop of news coverage, each segment dissecting the chaotic battle between Muscular and the vigilante known as Kamen Rider. Her eyes, usually bright with curiosity and invention, were narrowed in concentration as she replayed the footage, pausing and rewinding at critical moments.

She'd seen the fight live, a blur of motion and raw power that had left her breathless. Despite the rumors swirling around Kamen Rider—the whispers of fatalities, the condemnation from the authorities—she couldn't deny the surge of excitement that had coursed through her veins. He'd been amazing. And then he had revealed to everyone that he was Quirkless. That made her pause and rethink everything she thought she knew.

Now, hours later, she was determined to understand just what she had witnessed. The news channels focused on the destruction, the collateral damage, and the philosophical debate of whether a vigilante could truly be a hero. Melissa, however, was interested in the how. How had this seemingly ordinary person managed to overpower a villain like Muscular, a hulking brute whose Quirk amplified his muscles to terrifying proportions?

She pulled up various online sources, piecing together shaky cell phone videos and grainy security camera recordings. The quality was poor, but it was enough. She watched Kamen Rider's movements, the way he anticipated Muscular's attacks, the precision of his strikes. It was more than just brute strength; there was a calculated efficiency, a mastery of combat that spoke of rigorous training.

But the real key, she suspected, lay in the belt. The moment before the fight, Kamen Rider had reached for it, a metallic device strapped around his waist. There was a flash of light, a burst of energy, and then—transformation. Armor materialized, speed increased, strength amplified.

The belt… it's the source, she thought, zooming in on the footage. But what kind of tech is that?

She pulled up schematics of various support items used by Pro Heroes, comparing them to the fragmented images of Kamen Rider's belt. There was nothing even remotely similar. The technology seemed leagues beyond anything she had ever encountered, even the cutting-edge research conducted on I-Island. This device wasn't just amplifying existing abilities; it was granting them.

It's basically a portable Quirk, she realized, her mind reeling. A device that can give anyone abilities on par with a Quirk. The implications were staggering. If this technology were to become widespread, it could revolutionize hero society, leveling the playing field and empowering those without Quirks. It was a dangerous thought, a concept that could shatter the established order.

And then there were Ace's words. Ace, whom she had met just hours before, the man who encouraged her to see herself as more than just a support item engineer. "You can be a hero, Melissa. I know you can." His words were a gentle wind at her back, nudging her down a path she had never considered, not until today.

Melissa focused on the screen again. She noticed the man that Ace was, before becoming Kamen Rider. The way he stood, his gait, and his height. She thought he looked familiar, yet he did not. She knew he had a hat and a face mask, which obscured most of his features.

She needed a clearer picture, a better angle. She scrubbed through the footage again, her fingers flying across the keyboard. And then, she saw it. A brief moment, a fleeting glimpse, but it was enough. As Kamen Rider dodged one of Muscular's wild swings, his cap was momentarily dislodged, revealing a sliver of dark hair and a distinctive curve of his jawline.

Melissa paused the video, her heart pounding in her chest. She zoomed in on the image, enhancing the contrast, sharpening the details. And then, recognition struck her with the force of a lightning bolt.

Wait...is that…?

It can't be... Melissa shook her head, dismissing the notion. There was no way, absolutely no way, that the kind stranger she had met in the park, the one who had listened to her dreams and inspired her to see beyond her Quirkless status, could be the vigilante causing such a stir. It was a ridiculous thought. Still, the resemblance was uncanny.

She pulled up photos of Ace, screenshots taken from Starry Cafe's social media, and compared them to the image on the screen. Different clothes, altered hairstyle, a mask covering most of the face, but...the jawline. The set of the eyes. The proportions.

Melissa closed her laptop and rubbed her temples. This could just be a coincidence.

***

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Advance chapters are in my P@|r3on - Najicablitz