Mike hadn't participated in the school's sports meet for a long time, but watching the children galloping across the field made him feel like a child again. Nostalgia washed over him.
"Dad, what are you thinking about?" Clark nudged him gently.
Mike's eyes twitched as he replied, "I was just wondering if I should add some vivid memories to your childhood."
Clark felt a sudden chill run down his spine. Trying to shake off the unease, he changed the subject. "Hank and Hope are here. Should we rehearse?"
He pointed toward the other participating families in the distance and added, "I heard they've been practicing for weeks."
"What's there to rehearse?" Mike shrugged nonchalantly. "All it takes is a bit of effort from me, and we'll win!"
"Exactly!" a familiar voice chimed in.
Hank Pym approached with Hope by his side, nodding to Mike. He appreciated such confidence.
"By the way," Hank said, "aren't you kids in the boys' and girls' relay race? Shouldn't you be preparing?"
Mike gave Clark a nudge. "Off you go, son. Get ready."
"We'll be cheering for you!" Hank added enthusiastically.
"Who asked for your cheers?" Hope rolled her eyes but couldn't hide a grin. She grabbed Clark by the arm and led him away quickly.
Mike shook his head. "Ah, youth…"
"They're so full of life," Hank mused.
The two men exchanged knowing looks before bursting into laughter.
Hank then asked, "By the way, where are your younger boys?"
Mike gestured toward their class activity area. "They're busy with their classmates. Let's not disturb them."
Hank nodded, then glanced toward the tug-of-war area. "Is Clark in that event?"
Mike hesitated for a moment. "Uh...yes, he is."
"Then let's go cheer him on!"
"That's really not necessary—"
"Nonsense! You're his father. Let's go!"
Before Mike could protest, Hank was already on his way, dragging him along.
The tug-of-war competition was in full swing. The children were leaning back with all their might, their small bodies straining against the rope as they followed their team's chants. Spectators on the sidelines shouted encouragement, their voices blending into a cacophony of support.
Mike muttered under his breath, "Stay calm, son. Take it easy."
Soon, it was Clark's class's turn. Mike couldn't help but feel a pang of nervousness.
"Relax," Hank said, clapping him on the back. "It's fine even if he loses."
Mike gave him a sideways glance, thinking, You don't understand. He turned his focus back to the game as the referee blew the whistle.
The parents erupted in cheers, urging their children to pull harder. Amid the noise, Mike's distinct voice rose above the rest, yelling, "Take it easy, Clark!"
Heads turned. All the parents stared at Mike, bewildered by his unusual cheer.
Hank nudged him with a chuckle. "You've got everyone's attention."
Mike glared back at the curious onlookers. "What? Haven't you seen this before?"
A nearby parent muttered, "Who cheers like that?"
Mike's piercing gaze silenced the remark, and the parent quickly turned away, resuming their cheers.
On the field, the tug-of-war rope was at a stalemate. Clark, careful not to overpower his classmates, subtly adjusted his grip. For him, maintaining control without revealing his strength was far more challenging than outright winning.
"Just a little more, Clark! A bit harder!" Mike urged, still trying to manage the situation.
The other parents exchanged glances, once again puzzled by the strange man.
Finally, with a gentle tug, Clark pulled the opposing team across the line, securing victory for his class.
The crowd erupted in cheers. "Yes!" Mike exclaimed, clapping enthusiastically. "Well done, son!"
Clark grinned, relieved his efforts had gone unnoticed. He caught Mike's eye and gave him a thumbs-up. The two shared a knowing smile.
There was no need to check the scoreboard—Clark's class had won every round, claiming the championship.
"Good job, young man!" Hank congratulated Clark, patting him on the shoulder.
Mike, however, felt a twinge of concern. "Don't overdo it," he warned quietly.
"I'm fine," Clark reassured him. "I'm heading to prepare for the relay race."
As Clark walked off, Hank beckoned Mike toward the stands. "Come on, let's get a good view!"
Mike followed reluctantly, shaking his head at Hank's enthusiasm.
After waiting for about half an hour and watching the sprints, it was finally time for the much-anticipated boys' and girls' 300-meter relay race.
"Come on, Hope! You've got this!" Hank's voice rang out across the field, his excitement palpable. In moments like these, he didn't seem like a former superhero or a tech genius—just a proud father.
Meanwhile, Mike remained composed. He knew the race would be in the bag as long as Hope managed to pass the baton to Clark before their opponents reached the finish line.
Next to Mike, a pair of parents enthusiastically pointed out their son, a tall, athletic boy. "That's our kid!" they said, beaming. "Isn't he impressive?"
Mike nodded politely but stayed quiet.
The starting signal fired, and the girls launched into the first leg of the race.
"Go, Hope! Run!" Hank shouted, unable to contain himself.
Hope dashed forward with determination, securing second place before handing off the baton. The moment the baton reached Clark, he took off, closing in on the leader effortlessly.
Mike let out a sigh of relief. Perfect pace—not too fast, not too slow.
However, the parents beside him began shouting at their son. "Go, baby! Take the lead! Don't let that kid pass you!"
Mike glanced at them, realizing their child was competing with Clark. A smirk formed on his lips. "Clark! Show him what you've got! Don't lose now!"
The couple turned to Mike, stunned, as they pieced together that the boy in front of their son was his child.
The competitive energy surged. "Go, baby!" they shouted louder, trying to out-cheer Mike.
Mike wasn't one to back down. "Come on, Clark! Push ahead! You've got this!"
The relay reached its climax as Clark surged forward, crossing the finish line with a comfortable lead. The crowd erupted into cheers, but none were louder than Hank's.
"That's my daughter and his son!" Hank proclaimed proudly, pointing to Mike.
Mike shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. Mission accomplished.
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10 Chapters.