Chapter 3: The Weight of the Smile

All Might reclined on his massive bed, his non-buff form a stark contrast to the image the world revered. The phone in his hand cast a soft glow across his face as he scrolled through the endless sea of reactions to his serious demeanor from the previous day.

Hashtags like #SeriousMight and #WhereIsTheSmile trended alongside clips of his encounters with villains and civilians alike. The tone of the public discourse was a mix of confusion and concern, with some speculating that he was preparing for war—a notion that wasn't far from the truth.

He sighed deeply, tossing the phone onto the plush duvet. So, the smile matters that much, he thought, staring at the ceiling. In his past life, smiles had come naturally—when he was genuinely happy, amused, or even grateful. But now, he understood that in this world, his smile wasn't just an expression. It was a lifeline for the people, a beacon of hope.

How ridiculous, he thought bitterly. An entire nation relying on one man's grin. Yet he couldn't deny its power. The public's faith in him was tied directly to that reassuring expression. If he failed to provide it, the cracks in the fragile foundation of hero society would widen.

His thoughts drifted to the broader issues at hand: the corruption within the Hero Public Safety Commission (HPSC), the shaky reliance on a single pillar of strength, and the systematic flaws of hero society. While these were battles he intended to face eventually, one problem loomed larger than all the others.

"All For One," he muttered under his breath.

Where was he now? When would he strike? How had the legendary battle between All For One and All Might played out before, in a story that had only hinted at it? These unanswered questions gnawed at him. He couldn't afford to wait for All For One to make the first move.

A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. Straightening up, he called out, "Come in."

The door creaked open, revealing Gran Torino and Sir Nighteye. The sight of them together gave him pause, a mix of familiarity and newness swirling in his mind. Gran Torino, shorter and older than he remembered, still carried an air of authority despite his diminutive stature. Sir Nighteye, meanwhile, stood tall, his demeanor sharp and observant as always.

"All Might," Gran Torino said gruffly as he entered, his expression unreadable. "I heard what happened."

All Might feigned a look of recognition, matching the amnesia timeline he was pretending to follow. "Gran Torino?" he said hesitantly.

Gran Torino nodded and motioned to the couch in the corner of the room. "I think we should talk."

All Might rose from the bed, his movements deliberate, and sat on the couch. The two older men took seats across from him, their expressions serious.

Gran Torino leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Toshinori," he began, "I know it feels like you just woke up and your master is gone, but years have passed. A lot has changed."

All Might nodded slowly, letting his expression turn somber. "It feels like yesterday to me," he murmured, pretending to absorb the weight of the revelation.

Gran Torino sighed. "I understand it's hard for you. But listen—right now, Japan relies on you more than ever. That smile of yours isn't just for show. It's what gives people hope."

"Hope," All Might echoed, the word heavy on his tongue. He looked away, staring at his hands as if seeking answers in their strength. "I've seen how people reacted to me not smiling yesterday. I admit... I was stupid. I didn't realize how much this nation depends on that image."

Both Gran Torino and Sir Nighteye looked stunned. Gran Torino smirked faintly, muttering, "I forgot how stiff you were in your younger years."

All Might continued, his tone sharpening. "But let's not skirt around the bigger issue here. This isn't about smiles or appearances—it's about All For One. We can't afford to wait for him to come out of hiding. We need a plan. We need to find him."

The room fell silent. At the mention of All For One, both Gran Torino and Sir Nighteye wore grim expressions.

"You're serious," Sir Nighteye said finally. "You want to find him and... kill him?"

All Might's jaw tightened. "Yes. That's exactly what I intend to do."

Sir Nighteye's shock was evident, but Gran Torino's reaction was more subdued. He had seen this resolve before—years ago, in the immediate aftermath of Nana Shimura's death. "Toshinori," he said softly, "I've always known you had this in you. But remember, vengeance alone won't bring peace."

"This isn't about vengeance," All Might replied, his voice firm. "It's about stopping him. Permanently. You've seen the damage he's caused, the lives he's ruined. I can't let him continue."

Sir Nighteye stood, his expression resolute. "I'll use every resource at my disposal to locate him," he said. Without another word, he left the room, his mind already working on how to tackle the monumental task.

Gran Torino remained seated, studying All Might carefully. Then, with a sigh, he placed a hand on All Might's shoulder. "Toshinori, let it out."

All Might blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He hesitated, then closed his eyes. He had intended to fake his emotions, but the flood of memories—both his own and the body's—made it easier than expected. Tears came unbidden, a mixture of the body's grief for Nana and his own sorrow for the life he'd left behind.

Gran Torino offered quiet reassurances, his voice steady and comforting. "You're not alone in this," he said. "You've got people who believe in you."

Eventually, the older man rose to leave, giving All Might one last pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the hallway. Left alone, All Might lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His tears had dried, but the catharsis lingered, leaving him feeling strangely lighter.

For the first time, he acknowledged a troubling thought: these people weren't just fictional characters. They had consciousness, emotions, and lives that felt just as real as his own. The weight of that realization settled heavily on him as he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning, Lady Nagant crouched on a rooftop overlooking the bustling city below. Her keen eyes tracked All Might as he moved through the streets, his towering figure unmistakable even from a distance.

I underestimated him, she thought grimly. She had always known All Might was strong, but seeing him leap across city blocks with effortless power drove the point home. Keeping up with him was going to be far more challenging than she had anticipated.

She continued to watch as he rescued civilians and thwarted petty criminals. This time, he made an effort to smile—though it was awkward and forced, almost nervous. It was a far cry from the genuine grin he was known for, but it seemed to have some effect on the people he encountered. Their cheers of gratitude echoed through the streets, though they were tinged with uncertainty.

He's trying, she admitted, surprised by the effort. But even as she observed his awkward attempts at reassurance, something else caught her attention.

All Might disappeared.

One moment, he was there, standing tall amidst a crowd of admirers, and the next, he was gone, as if the air itself had swallowed him. Nagant's sharp eyes darted around, but she couldn't find him.

"Where did he go?" she murmured, her brow furrowing.

Then she froze. A massive shadow loomed over her, its presence heavy and commanding. Slowly, she turned her head, her heart pounding.

The chapter ended with Lady Nagant's breath catching in her throat, her eyes wide as she confronted the unknown force that had suddenly appeared behind her.