Mumen Rider in MHA

Kamino Ward, Minato Base. Late afternoon.

The outpost lobby buzzed faintly with comms chatter and footsteps. Satoru leaned his bike against the wall, peeling off his helmet with a low grunt. His muscles ached from yesterday's fire rescue. The armor didn't make him invincible—just slightly harder to break.

A staffer at the desk looked up. "Someone's waitin' for you in the breakroom."

Satoru blinked. "Who?"

The man shrugged. "Old guy. Tough. Didn't give a name. Said you'd know."

Satoru raised an eyebrow but made his way down the corridor.

Inside, near the vending machine, stood a short, weathered man with sharp eyes and a presence that filled the room like thunder before a storm. He chewed through a protein bar like it owed him money.

"You Kojima?" the man asked.

"I am," Satoru replied, cautious.

The old man grunted. "Name's Gran Torino."

That made Satoru pause. "Wait, aren't you—"

"Yeah, yeah. The fossil who trained All Might. That one."

Satoru straightened. "Didn't expect someone like you to come see me."

"Well," Gran Torino said, stepping forward, "word travels. Especially about the dumbass in bike armor who doesn't know when to quit."

Satoru scratched the back of his neck. "I get that a lot."

Gran Torino looked him up and down. "Armor's ugly. But it suits you."

"It's a gift."

"Figures," Gran Torino muttered. "That's the kind of help you attract."

Satoru tilted his head. "And why are you here?"

Gran Torino leaned back slightly. "Wanted to see you for myself. Been hearing stories. From a kid I know—Midoriya. Ever heard of him?"

Satoru blinked. "U.A. student, right?"

Gran Torino chuckled. "Yeah, that's him. He's got this thing—looks up to people who throw themselves into danger without a second thought. Calls it heroic spirit or something sappy like that."

"Sounds… familiar."

"Reminds me of someone else," the old man added. His eyes pinned Satoru. "Someone who used to get bruised just for standing between trouble and people who couldn't fight back."

Satoru didn't answer.

Gran Torino continued, "If that kid had met you sooner, I think you'd be on his wall. Maybe instead of—well… never mind."

There was something unspoken there, but Satoru didn't pry. Just listened.

"I've trained my share of stubborn brats," Gran Torino said. "But even they knew when to lean on someone. You?"

Satoru looked at his gauntlets. "I never had that option."

The older man nodded, unsurprised. "Didn't think so."

Silence settled for a moment.

"Still," Gran Torino added, more quietly, "you've made it this far. That means something."

Satoru looked up. "You think so?"

"I know so." He stepped closer. "You don't shine, Kojima. You burn slow. Quiet. That's the kind of flame people remember when the lights go out."

Satoru exhaled slowly. "You came all this way to tell me that?"

Gran Torino's smile faded. "I came to warn you. The air's changing."

Satoru's expression shifted. "You feel it too?"

"Yeah. Kamino's heating up. The kind of heat you don't walk away from. Stay sharp. Don't do anything reckless."

"That's kind of my job."

"Then do it smarter," Gran Torino snapped. "You see something you can't handle, you walk away. No legends, no final stands."

Satoru didn't answer.

Gran Torino sighed. "You're gonna ignore that advice."

"Probably."

The old pro studied him again. Then, with a rare flicker of something softer, he added, "You remind me of Midoriya more than I like."

"How come?"

"He never believed he was good enough. But he kept trying anyway." A pause. "Just like you."

Satoru stayed still, helmet tucked under one arm, words caught in his throat.

"I'll tell him about you," Gran Torino said finally. "Not everything. Just enough to remind him there's more than one kind of hero."

He turned to leave, boots scraping lightly against the tile.

"Gran Torino," Satoru called.

The man looked back.

"Thanks for showing up."

"…Just don't make me regret it."

And then he was gone.

Satoru stood there alone in the breakroom, gazing out the window at the heavy clouds crawling over Kamino's skyline.

Something was coming.

And he would be right here when it did.