Mumen Rider in MHA

Present – Kamino, burning.

Smoke swirls around him.

A tooth is loose. Blood clings to his tongue. His back screams. His legs tremble.

But Satoru stands.

The shattered visor on his helmet reflects firelight and broken glass.

He exhales slowly, like he's somewhere else.

And in a way—he is.

---

Flashback – Three years ago, early spring. The flower shop.

"Mom, I watered the marigolds too much again," Keiko groaned, holding up a soggy pot.

From behind the register, her mother laughed—not cruelly, but warm and light.

"You didn't water them," she said. "You drowned them."

Satoru snorted from the corner, where he was organizing inventory.

"You're hopeless with plants," he said. "How are you so good with people and so bad with flowers?"

Keiko stuck out her tongue. "Plants don't talk back."

Her mother smiled gently. "You talk enough for all of them, sweet girl."

Keiko caught the words and stilled. Looked away. But she was smiling too.

---

Present – Kamino, now.

AFO lands another hit.

Satoru's body folds under the pressure.

He slams against the wall of a broken building, groaning.

Debris rains. Rubble shifts. He breathes dirt and pain.

Still not down.

He grips the wall behind him to stand again, bones protesting.

Eyes unfocused. But still fighting.

---

Flashback – Same flower shop, closing hour.

The sun dipped low. The windows turned golden.

Keiko rang up the last customer. Satoru swept near the doorway. His mother arranged tulips.

It was quiet. Almost sacred.

"You should rest more," Keiko said softly, not looking at him.

Satoru glanced up. "You sound like mom."

She rolled her eyes. "She's not wrong."

His mother piped in. "You never listen to me either."

He chuckled. "You both need a new hobby."

His mother stepped beside him, fingers brushing his hair back. He froze for a second—but leaned into it, just a little.

"You carry too much," she said gently. "Even when you were small."

"I'll be fine."

"That's what worries me."

Keiko watched them. Silent. Wishing she could say more. That she knew how.

---

Present – Kamino, now.

Satoru pulls himself upright again.

All For One steps through flame and rubble, voice calm, almost admiring.

"You should've stayed out of this. You could've lived a quiet life."

Satoru spits a cracked laugh. "Tried that. Got bored."

Another hit lands. His armor peels. Blood paints the street.

He's on his knees.

But his hands won't stop moving. Not yet.

---

Flashback – Closing time, flower shop. One final moment.

Keiko lingered by the door. Satoru was locking up.

The bell chimed softly overhead.

"You know," she said, voice quiet, "you never told me why you wanted to run this place."

He blinked. "I didn't. Mom did."

"But you stayed."

He shrugged. "It's peaceful."

She tilted her head. "You don't seem peaceful."

He smiled crookedly.

"That's why I need it."

Their mother emerged from the back, wiping her hands. She wrapped an arm around him, gently pulling Keiko close too.

Just for a second. The three of them.

"Be kind to each other," she said.

Satoru didn't know then that he'd remember that moment more clearly than most birthdays.

---

Present – Kamino.

He stumbles.

But doesn't fall.

Kana watches through broken debris. Blood on her lip. Her mother unconscious behind her.

She whispers like a prayer:

"Get up… please…"

Satoru lifts his eyes. Bruised. Dying. Brilliant.

And smiles.

"Still here," he mutters.

"Still standing."