MHA: UltraMan

Japan, years ago

Rei sat motionless in the hospital bed, her face pale against the stark white sheets. Her eyes, dull and gray, followed the flutter of wings outside the window as a bird took flight, disappearing into the wide, open sky.

Her hand drifted to her belly, fingertips brushing softly over the curve. Her lips parted, and a gentle melody slipped out, her voice tender and delicate. The tune wavered, her breath catching as her thumb traced slow circles. Her gaze softened, a faint smile curving as she whispered each note, her voice carrying the unspoken promise of a mother's love.

A tall figure stepped quietly into the room, his crimson hair catching the soft light. His turquoise eyes softened as he approached the bed. Enji moved to his wife's side, lowering himself into the chair beside her, his presence steady and warm.

His gaze hardened as he placed gentian flowers in the vase beside the bed, their deep blue petals a stark contrast against the sterile white room.

He stood there in silence, his lips pressed into a thin line. Words of comfort eluded him. He had married her with a purpose—a calculated decision, hoping their children would inherit a quirk powerful enough to surpass All Might.

Yet, as he looked at her pale face and the gentle way she cradled her belly, a strange unease coiled in his chest. It was unfamiliar, heavy, and for the first time, he questioned if strength alone was worth the cost.

Those thoughts faded as his gaze shifted to the television. The screen flickered to life, revealing All Might's unmistakable figure, his wide grin gleaming as he effortlessly defeated a group of villains. The crowd cheered, their admiration palpable even through the screen.

Enji's jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists. His turquoise eyes burned with envy as his chest tightened, resentment twisting inside him. That smile… that effortless power. His anger grew, feeding the obsession that gnawed at him, driving his determination to create an heir who could one day surpass that insufferable symbol of peace.

Suddenly, a sharp gasp escaped Rei's lips as a rush of warmth spread beneath her—her water had broken. Pain rippled through her body, her hands gripping the hospital sheets as she let out a strained moan.

Hours later, the room was filled with the soft, fragile cry of a newborn. Exhausted but smiling, Rei cradled a tiny baby girl in her arms, her eyes shimmering with tears of joy as she gazed down at her daughter's delicate features.

Soft tufts of hair crowned the newborn's head, barely sprouting from her delicate scalp. In the right light, the strands revealed their unique coloring—a perfect blend of her parents' traits, half snowy white and half fiery red, seamlessly intertwined.

Her eyes mirrored her father's, a deep reflection of his gaze. As she slowly opened them for the first time, the world around her met her sight, and the overwhelming flood of sensations caused her to cry once more.

"Your name will be Uta." Rei smiled.

As time passed, Rei gave birth to another child, Toya, just a year after Uta. She moved gently around the house, carrying Toya in her arms, her eyes following Uta as she dashed about, her laughter and hums filling the air. Uta, full of energy and life, had a deep passion for music even as a young child. She would sing beautifully for her mother, her voice like a soft melody that made Toya giggle. Soon, two more years passed, and Rei gave birth to Fuyumi.

Life was wonderful for the young Todoroki family, but everything changed the day Uta's quirk awakened.

Uta skipped happily toward the family home, kicking off her shoes as she entered. She made her way into the room where a piano, a gift from her aunt overseas, stood quietly. Sitting down, she placed her fingers on the keys and began to play.

(Where the wind blows, ado) 

Her voice echoed through the room, soft and delicate, perfectly in sync with the piano's gentle melody. As she sang, unaware, her family stood quietly, watching her with rapt attention. With each note, she felt a strange stirring deep within her, but she brushed it aside. However, as the song continued, her eyes shifted—no longer turquoise, they transformed into a stunning shade of purple, glowing softly in the dim light.

Her hair seemed to move on its own, rising with the next chord. The air in the room began to shift, thickening with an eerie presence. Suddenly, stuffed bears began to materialize around her, their glassy eyes fixed on her as the room itself seemed to change.

More and more stuffed animals appeared, their lifeless forms dancing around her as her singing filled the air, bringing her a fleeting sense of freedom. But then, a loud slam shattered the moment. She turned, her heart racing as the door burst open, torn from its hinges. Her father stormed out, leaving the door hanging crookedly in his fury.

After that day, her father never spared a glance at Uta. His attention was fully consumed by young Toya, whose desire to be like him filled him with pride.

Uta's heart ached with each passing day, her longing to make her father proud only growing stronger. At night, tears silently fell, but her mother's comforting presence was always there, a quiet balm for her pain.

As time passed, Toya began to torment her, taunting her with cruel words. He called her name in mockery, pushing her to the edge. In a rush of frustration and anger, Uta snapped, punching him square in the face. Toya ran off, tears streaming down his face, straight to their father.

Without a care in the world, Uta glaze returned to her younger sister, lost in the simple joy of watching her play with the toy. The peaceful moment shattered when her father stormed toward her. Without warning, he raised his hand and struck her across the face, the force sending her stumbling back. "Don't you ever hurt Toya," he snarled, his voice icy with rage. "Do you hear me?"

Her nose stiffened as she fought to hold back the tears, a wave of frustration rising within her. She wanted to shout that Toya had been tormenting her, but instead, she nodded silently. Her father turned and walked away, and as soon as he was out of sight, the tears spilled from her eyes.

 At Six years old, Uta had lost her spark. Her eyes seemed distant, empty, yet a small flicker of hope remained. Her mother held her tightly, tears streaming down her face as she whispered, "I'm so sorry, Uta," her voice breaking with the weight of her sorrow. "I called my sister. She agreed to take you and teach you everything about music. Do you want to go?"

Uta's eyes lit up at the mention of music, her quirk stirring within her like a quiet hum, urging her to say yes. Without a word, she nodded. And so, she left for New York to live with her aunt.

 In a new environment, Uta struggled to speak English as she walked into a classroom full of unfamiliar faces. She barely understood half the words being spoken around her. She sat down next to a young boy with blonde hair, his blue eyes catching the light from the classroom windows. He smiled at her and asked, "What's your name?"

"Ah…" Uta began, trying to respond but unable to fully understand.

The boy's eyes widened in realization before he quickly switched to Japanese. "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't realize you didn't speak English. It's okay—our teacher knows Japanese and will help you adjust. Oh, and my name's Jackson. What's yours?"

Uta managed a small smile. "My name is Uta."