I want to become a Kamen Rider

Fan Kang remained silent because he recognized the man, even though he wasn't one of his many colleagues who had gained the power of Kamen Rider.

After some time, perhaps to calm his shock or simply to sort out his complex emotions, the strongest knight in the world stepped forward and crossed the fire.

"Didn't you ask me what Kamen Rider is?"

On the way forward, he spoke simply to his disciples in a calm and natural tone.

He raised his arm, pointing to the figure in the center.

This is the answer to the previous question.

"—There it is."

Chapter Sixteen is not a role.

【Ten minutes ago】

Fear is the fuel of courage.

I can't remember where I saw this quote, but life is always like this: when you can recite the truth fluently, it's superficial, but when you actually experience it and it clashes with you, it's so... bloody and painful.

Flames engulfed the cotton candy stall, and the melted sugar strands stretched into a pattern resembling a crimson spiderweb in the heat.

He was like that insect caught in the net, in the fire, in the net, for forty years.

The festival security personnel either chose to flee with others or were easily defeated by the Shockers, while tourists who did not have this responsibility decided to step forward.

The Shocker combatant's robotic arm tore through the metal sheeting of the takoyaki stand, splattering oil igniting the hem of Higashijima Tanzaburo's trousers. He staggered backward, blood and ash seeping into the cracks of his cheap plastic mask, his vision fragmented into shattered patches of color.

At first, the Shocker fighters were quite startled when he rushed out wearing a mask, as if there really was a Kamen Rider somewhere in the world.

Seizing the initiative, Higashijima Tanzaburo's fist slammed into the metal mask of the nearest combatant, his knuckles cracking.

"Click!"

It wasn't his finger bones that shattered, but the mask.

The training he underwent to become a Kamen Rider, a role he could never actually achieve, was not ineffective, but it was far from sufficient.

For example, after he defeated a Shocker fighter, before he could even feel happy and relieved, he realized that there were so many enemies in front of him.

Three Shocker fighters formed a semicircle, their serrated weapons scraping sparks off the ground.

"Hahaha! What is this? A locust-man cosplay?"

These guys who don't follow the rules at all actually spoke up, although he, as a "knight" wearing a plastic mask, has no right to complain about that.

The combatant on the far left used a steel pipe to poke the edge of Dongdao's mask, the plastic and metal rubbing together to produce a piercing sound.

"Useless piece of trash who doesn't even have a belt!"

Shocker on his right kicked him in the stomach, and as he dodged, Dongdao knocked over the glass tank at the goldfish stand, water carrying red and white goldfish splashing over his face.

"If you want to play role-playing games, go home and play them."

"I'm not just playing a Kamen Rider..."

The roar tore through the night sky.

"Now I'm here! Shocker!"

He grabbed a burning wooden beam and smashed it against Shocker's face, sparks exploding on the mask. Taking advantage of the enemy's retreat, Higashijima lunged at the nearest stall.

Takoyaki grills, broken bamboo swords, even glass jars filled with candied apples—all the remnants of the festival became his weapons.

Because he loves festivals, cherishes festivals, and wants to protect them, he remembers everything there clearly—anything that could or might be used as a weapon.

"boom!"

The syrup exploded on Shocker's mask, instantly obscuring Shocker's vision, while Dongdao's knee slammed into the other's throat.

"the second……"

The arc of the iron plate was more clumsy than expected.

The 300-degree hot takoyaki plate struck Shocker's right knee, and the melted takoyaki sauce rose into the air at the point of impact.

"The third……"

Dongdao seized the opportunity to break through the gap, but behind him came the sound of tearing fabric—the grappling hook ripped his favorite T-shirt, leaving three bloody gashes on his back.

The pain was excruciating, so intense it made you want to kneel down and beg for mercy, so intense it made you want to plead with the other person to let you go, so intense…

"Mommy mommy……"

The little girl, wearing a goldfish yukata, huddled among the collapsed Daruma doll pile. Instead of running away with everyone else, she began to sob.

The pain did not subside, nor did the fear in his heart dissipate, and he could not draw strength from it. He simply squeezed out a little courage from his heart, which was already as tattered as a rag from the fight.

"The...fourth..."

A roar mixed with blood and spittle sprayed onto the inside of the mask. He swung the Dharma at the grappling hook and chain, while the Shocker wielding the hook looked at him with equal disdain:

"Someone as useless as you dares to call themselves a hero?"

"They're a good match..."

Blood oozed from between his teeth, and a roar and the sound of bones breaking rang out at the same time.

"Rider-Kick!!!"

His left arm hung down unnaturally. The fire had already started. Standing in the middle of the fire, the man, whose transformation had no special flowing light or armor combination sound effects, and who even had to add sound effects to each punch and kick by shouting out the moves himself, protected the girl behind him and stared intently at the remaining Shocker.

Many people took a step back.

"Come on—!"

He repeated it, this time with a completely different meaning.

"Shockers!"

……

……

"Uncle, do you think the ending for Kamen Rider is that he dies before sunrise, a tragic hero fighting with tears streaming down his face beneath his mask?"

"No, the true ending for Kamen Rider is to protect others, to strive to the very last moment, to turn the impossible into possible, and to respond to that thing called hope."

.........

……

To this day, the interpretation of Kamen Rider has changed far too much, and it's impossible to say whether his or the old man's interpretation was more accurate under the starry night that day.

However, there is one thing that has largely lost controversy.

The man before me lived up to his word, fulfilling his definition and beliefs. When the Shocker fighter attacked others, he raised his fist, standing up despite his immense fear, and became a Kamen Rider.

However, it still leaves people with some complaints.

'If you want to turn the impossible into the possible and also fulfill the hopes of others, then you'd better stick to it until the end, old man…'

The burning shelves collapsed behind them with a deafening roar, sparks flying like a reversed meteor shower past the three. Fan Kang knelt on one knee, blue sparks flying between his kneecap and the ground. He picked up the cheap, blood-stained mask and put it on the man's face.

This action didn't have any special meaning; Fan Kang simply felt that if it were this man, he would probably want to die wearing a mask at the end of the story.

The tattered mask was placed on Higashijima Tanzaburo's face, a large burst of sparks exploded on the burning takoyaki stall in the distance, and the broken body in front of him suddenly convulsed violently.

"Ka--"

The man made a hissing sound, as if air was leaking from his throat, his vocal cords, burned by the flames, squeezing out fragmented syllables:

"You...came...to...Kuuga..."

This is a dramatic reversal that can only be called a miracle. Whether it was his obsession with Kamen Rider or his belief in protecting others that sustained him until now, or simply because of that damaged mask, it is impossible to know for sure.

Compared to his apprentice who was jumping up and down in surprise, he just smiled without showing any astonishment.

If there's a miracle, it's right before our eyes; it's already happened once.

"Yes, I'm here, uncle..."

As Kuuga took the crying little girl from the man's arms, he paused for a moment.

“No…” he corrected, “Kamen Rider One.”

Chapter Seventeen: Wanting to Become

It was a distant dream, one that should have actually happened, but someone stole his memory, and now it suddenly came back to him.

It came to mind abruptly, at an inopportune time.

That night, standing in the fire, looking at the man who looked so much like himself, he remembered that dream, the beginning of it all.

In the beginning of the dream, there was only sound; someone was asking him questions.

"Fan Kang, what do you think Kamen Rider is?"

"A strange man wearing a mask and a leather suit?"

"Artificial weapons created by suspicious alien creatures?"

"Or should we offer sacrifices to this world in exchange for pitiful, enduring offerings?"

To this day, he can no longer remember why that person asked him that question; he only remembers the answer, which he answered without the slightest hesitation or doubt.

"Kamen Rider, to me..."

Because, since childhood, he had longed for that figure.

"—He's a hero."

Then, the sound faded away, and light appeared in a pure white world.

There was nothing here except a table and a chair, and sitting on the chair was a figure he knew all too well.

Because, just before, he had entered the body of that giant beast together with his colleague Hachiman in the same posture, completing his final mission as a "Kamen Rider".

"Is this heaven?"

"No."

I shook my head.

"Or reincarnation in another world?"

"Perhaps you should read less isekai (another world) reincarnation light novels with your colleague Hachiman."

"Hachiman only reads light novels with a sister complex theme. If he buys a light novel with great enthusiasm but finds that it doesn't have a sister element, he will ruthlessly give it to me. I do this to avoid wasting resources."

After weakly offering a few words of self-justification, Fan Kang cautiously examined the person before him.

The crimson armor that covered his body was not made of the terracotta or refined gold he was familiar with; it was so natural, like the skin of a living being. More importantly, the silver belt embedded in the center was something that no human could possibly imitate.

Even though they are both called Kuuga, they are still the difference between a forgery and the genuine article.

"I'm not dead?"

"No, you're dead, you're completely dead."

"That...that monster?"

"You, no, you all have fulfilled your mission well."

"That's it."

Kuuga didn't seem to have the intention of properly answering his questions; he could sense that Kuuga seemed more interested in his existence itself.

Can you tell me your story?

"What kind?"

"As a Kamen Rider."

He smiled.

"When I was little, I loved watching Doraemon. There was one episode that went like this..."

"I'm asking about your story."

"What I am telling is my story."

He adopted a more relaxed tone and began to speak in a gentle, detailed manner.