MHA: UltraMan

The city skyline stretched before him, bathed in the golden hues of dusk. Crowds cheered his name as he touched down after another routine patrol, their admiration reflected in the flashing cameras and excited voices. He offered a nod, a casual wave, before slipping away into the sky. Saving lives had become second nature, his reputation soaring yet, lately, everything felt… easy. Too easy.

Still, something else gnawed at him.

His fingers drummed against the table as he stared at the concert flyer on his desk. Uta—Live in Three Days. His heart kicked against his ribs. He had faced criminals, disasters, the worst humanity had to offer—but this? This made his palms sweat.

He had gone to his father, searching for wisdom, for some secret to making this easier. But all he got was a knowing look and a simple answer.

"Just ask her. You might regret it if you don't."

Now, that thought refused to leave him.

Jackson exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he clenched his fists. No more hesitation. He would ask her out. Uta was the only girl who had ever made his heart race, the only one who had ever truly gotten under his skin. He couldn't afford to mess this up. He wouldn't mess this up.

He pushed back from his desk and made his way to the family kitchen, the warm scent of cooking filling the air. His mother stood at the stove, humming softly as she stirred a pot.

"Oh, sweetie, come have a seat. Dinner is almost ready," she said with a smile.

Before he could respond, Emma came sprinting in from the living room, her face lit with excitement. "Yay! I'm hungry!" she shouted, abandoning her cartoons without a second thought.

Soon, Steve Rogers returned and joined the four of them at the table, settling in as they enjoyed their meal.

"Jackson, why do you look so pale?" his mother asked, eyeing him with concern.

Before he could respond, Steve smirked, setting down his fork. "Oh, don't you know? Our boy here is finally working up the courage to ask Uta out on a date."

Carol nearly choked on her drink. "Wait… they're not dating?" she asked, genuinely shocked.

Steve chuckled, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Wouldn't blame you for thinking so. The way they are together, you'd swear they already were."

Jackson's face turned red as he ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, well… I'm actually gonna do it this time."

His mother smirked, crossing her arms. "Oh, maybe then you'll finally get your own place—imagine that! A grown man still having his mother do his laundry." She laughed, shaking her head.

Jackson rolled his eyes. "And yet, when I had my own room at S.H.I.E.L.D., you were the one who got all teary-eyed and begged me to come back." He mimicked her voice with a playful smirk. "'My baby boy is all grown up!'"

She gasped, swatting his arm. "I did not beg! I might have gotten a little emotional."

A loud burp echoed through the room.

"Yummy!" Emma giggled, rubbing her tummy. "I'm full!"

Carol immediately turned to her daughter, cupping her face with both hands. "Oh, my sweet baby," she cooed dramatically. "You won't grow up and leave your mama, will you?"

Steve watched his family with amusement, his gaze drifting to Jackson. Memories of his son growing up flooded his mind, and a small tear slipped down his cheek.

"I'm proud of you, son," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion.

Jackson met his father's gaze and smiled. "Thanks, Dad."

As the day of Uta's concert approached, Jackson carefully chose his best clothes, determined to make a good impression. His family offered words of encouragement, and his little sister waved him off with a bright smile. With a deep breath, he flew toward Japan, feeling the weight of the moment.

However, disaster struck. His clothes got soaked during the flight, leaving him with no choice but to buy new ones once he arrived in Japan. The fit was tight, barely containing his muscles, and the fabric stretched against him, making him feel even more exposed than he'd intended.

Well, what could he do? He was stuck with a white t-shirt and tan-colored pants, his clothes clinging a little too snugly. His hair was neatly combed back, a fresh fade giving him a polished, sharp look.

It was time. He quickly took an Uber to the venue, nerves buzzing in his chest. Japan, he quickly learned, was strict with its laws. He'd gotten slapped with a hefty fine for flying in, and of course, since it wasn't a S.H.I.E.L.D. mission, there was no real reason for him to be there. Thankfully, S.H.I.E.L.D. had helped him out and smoothed things over.

As he approached the venue, Jackson couldn't help but stare. A massive line snaked ahead, with crowds of all shapes and sizes making their way inside. When his turn came, he breezed through security, making sure there was nothing on him that would set off the metal detectors.

Uta merchandise was everywhere—t-shirts, posters, and glow sticks scattered across the venue. He grabbed a glow stick for himself before heading into the main area, the buzz of excitement growing louder around him. Then, as he glanced down at his ticket, he froze. Front row. It was a detail that took him by surprise. She'll definitely see me, he thought, his heart racing as he moved closer to the stage.

"Yo, Jackson!" He heard his name called, and turned to see a man with red hair walking toward him. "Bradford," Jackson said, a surprised grin spreading across his face. I forgot I gave him a ticket, he thought.

Bradford took a seat next to him just as the lights dimmed, signaling the start of the show.