MHA: UltraMan

A few months back…

"As you all know," the teacher spoke, ensuring they were well-informed about All Might's condition.

Toshinori sat in the teacher conference room in his weakened form, his body frail and skeletal.

"As you know, All Might will be teaching at U.A., and as the principal, I must ensure all necessary precautions are taken."

The staff collectively acknowledged that All Might's presence could attract unwanted attention. To mitigate risks, they reviewed a roster of individuals they could trust.

As they examined the files, one name stood out.

Midnight broke the silence. "What about Uta? Her Quirk is classified as S-rank, and she knows Haki."

Aizawa, in his usual tired tone, raised an eyebrow. "Isn't her father Endeavor? Are we sure we can trust her?"

Toshinori's eyes widened. "Oh, Uta! Yes, she's a kind girl. I've met her before—she's different, has a kind soul. I believe we can trust her with this."

After some deliberation, the staff eventually reached an agreement—though Aizawa still wasn't convinced.

"Great, another person with a loud mouth," he muttered.

Present Mic gasped in mock offense. "Hey! What's that supposed to mean?!"

Present:

Jackson rolled his shoulders, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. "Well, duty calls," he said, his tone easy yet firm.

He pulled Uta into a warm embrace, his touch lingering before he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. Then, just as smoothly, he stepped away.

Nezu's eyes went wide. "Oh my!"

Uta went rigid. Heat flared across her face, her pulse hammering as she processed what had just happened. Slowly, her gaze flicked toward her boss, dread curling in her stomach. He did that—right in front of her boss.

Her face burned as she watched Jackson wave goodbye. Just before he turned away, he cast a quick glance back at her—a smirk tugging at his lips. Oh, she was going to get her revenge.

A few moments later, a small cough disrupted the silence.

"Uta, with the matter at hand, thank you for ensuring our students' safety. As you know, All Might's condition is worsening."

Uta took a steady breath, her anger cooling. She nodded. "Of course."

As the low hum of chatter filled the air before class, Uta's curiosity got the better of her. Slipping away, she made her way to the training field, her steps light and deliberate.

Peeking around the corner, her purple eyes locked onto Aizawa standing among his students. Then, she saw him—the green-haired boy.

Her breath hitched. She had seen the footage before—the way he had obliterated the massive robot, the raw power behind his attack, and the sickening crunch of his own bones breaking under the strain.

Now, standing among his classmates, he gripped the ball tightly. His stance was firm, his gaze unwavering. With a sharp exhale, he hurled it forward. The ball tore through the air like a bullet.

A split second later, his hand trembled, his finger bent at an unnatural angle. Pain flickered across his face, but he barely reacted.

Uta's brows drew together. What kind of power comes at that cost?

She had never heard of a Quirk that harmed its own user. The thought lingered for a moment before reality snapped her back.

"Oh, right—class!" she muttered, turning on her heel and storming off.

Time flew by, and before Uta knew it, her first day of work was over. Leaning back in her chair, she stretched, letting out a satisfied sigh.

Deciding to head out, she made her way through the halls—until a familiar figure caught her eye. Her purple eyes gleamed with excitement.

"Brother!"

In a flash, she dashed toward Shoto, wrapping him in a tight hug. Her energy was boundless, but his expression remained dull, almost exasperated.

"Can you please let me go?" he muttered.

The scene didn't go unnoticed. The students of Class 1-A watched in shock.

"Wait, wait—you didn't tell us your sister is Uta!"

Jirō's eyes widened as she took in the sight, her mouth slightly agape. The rest of the girls, however, wasted no time, huddling excitedly around Uta.

"Oh my god, oh my god—it's really you!" they squealed, practically vibrating with excitement.

Jirō hesitated, shifting awkwardly. She wanted to say something, but the words just wouldn't come out.

Meanwhile, Shoto took advantage of the distraction, slipping away while his sister was swarmed with attention.

"Hey, hey!" Uta greeted the excited girls, her voice full of warmth as she smiled at them. As she signed the last of their memorabilia, her eyes caught sight of her brother slipping away from the crowd. A soft sigh escaped her, her thoughts already understanding what he was going through.

The last girl stood off to the side, hesitant. She fidgeted with the earphone jacks around her neck, her fingers tapping nervously.

Uta's smile remained kind. "Oh hey there, don't be shy. What's your name?"

The girl glanced up, her cheeks flushed. "M-My name is Jirō… and I… I like your music."

Uta's eyes brightened. "Thank you!" She quickly grabbed her pen and signed Jirō's jacket.

Jirō's fingers brushed the signature, her expression still shy but grateful.

"Well," Uta said, her eyes flickering toward the door. "I've got music to record." She waved over her shoulder, but instead of heading straight to the studio, she veered off in a different direction, her steps purposeful and steady.

Her first stop wasn't the studio—it was the mental hospital.

The sliding doors parted as Uta walked through them, her gaze focused on the quiet halls ahead. She moved with a calm determination, her footsteps echoing softly.

She found her mother by the window, her back to the room as she gazed outside. The moment Rei turned, her white hair shimmered in the light. A soft smile spread across her face as her eyes landed on Uta.

"Uta," Rei said gently, her voice full of warmth, "How have you been?"