The second night felt heavier.
His legs still ached from the patrol last night. His ribs were sore from where his makeshift gear pressed too tightly. But his mind was sharper. More focused.
He left the house without hesitation.
Helmet on. Notebook packed.
Satoru pedaled into the night.
---
He took a longer route this time—cutting past Shiraishi Street toward the outer shopping district. Fewer lights. Fewer people. More risk.
That was part of the point.
The city didn't always scream when it needed help. Sometimes, it just whispered.
---
It happened near a narrow corner behind an old café.
Satoru heard a shout—sharp, angry, then the sharp scuff of footsteps. A woman cried out. Bags spilled onto the pavement. A man in a hood darted past him, clutching a purse.
Without thinking, Satoru turned his bike hard and followed.
> "Stop!" he yelled.
The thief didn't stop.
He pedaled faster.
---
They zig-zagged through the empty street. The thief was faster on foot in the alleys, but Satoru knew the route. He cut ahead, wheeled into a side path, and blocked the exit.
The man turned the corner and froze.
> "Outta the way, freak."
Satoru didn't move.
His knees shook. Hands gripped the handlebars so tight they hurt.
> "Give it back," he said.
The thief growled, shoved him. Satoru fell off the bike, crashing to the concrete.
Pain flashed white in his ribs.
The thief laughed.
But the delay worked—footsteps approached. A man from the café had followed. The thief dropped the purse and bolted.
The woman retrieved it, trembling. "Are you okay?"
Satoru groaned and sat up.
> "I… yeah. I think."
---
An hour later, he sat on the curb, icing his shoulder with a convenience store soda.
The café owner had helped him clean up. The woman offered to call the police, but Satoru declined.
> "I'm not official. Just… trying."
The man stared. "You're that helmet kid, huh? Online people've been talking."
Satoru blinked. "Online?"
He hadn't checked his phone.
---
Back home, he finally looked.
A blurry photo of him standing in front of the thief had surfaced on a local forum.
> "Quirkless Hero Stops Mugger — Who Is He?"
Comments poured in:
> "Dude looks ridiculous, but props." "Bet he's gonna die doing this lol." "Helmet Kid's back at it again."
He closed the app. Opened his notebook.
> "Rescue 01: Purse theft, no quirk use detected. Injury: bruised shoulder. Notes: Avoid chasing into tight corridors. Learn to fall better."
He underlined the last line twice.
Then, quietly, added:
> "She smiled at the end. Said thank you."
He shut the notebook.
> "It wasn't perfect. But it mattered."