The Press Conference
The air in the room buzzed with anticipation as the crowd of reporters filled the space, cameras clicking rapidly and flashes illuminating the podium. Conversations were a murmur of speculation, growing louder as the minutes ticked by.
When All Might landed on the stage, his presence silenced the room. The sheer force of his landing sent a gust of wind rippling through the audience, his towering figure casting a long shadow over the podium. The hero's iconic presence was undeniable, but the faint tension in his demeanor was equally apparent.
Reporters immediately started shouting questions, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of demands for answers.
"Quiet!" All Might's commanding voice boomed, cutting through the noise like a knife. The room fell silent in an instant, the shift highlighting the change in his demeanor. All Might's hand raised slightly, signaling for calm.
"One question at a time," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Hands shot up instantly, and he pointed to a reporter near the front. The man stood, clearing his throat nervously.
"All Might, the public has noticed your recent change in demeanor. You're not smiling as much as before. Can you address this?"
All Might's blue eyes scanned the room, his face neutral. After a pause, he spoke with careful honesty.
"I'll be honest—maintaining the Symbol of Peace isn't just about being strong. It's about being human. I've been reflecting on what it means to be a hero, and I've realized that the responsibility I carry is heavier than I ever imagined. That doesn't mean I've lost my smile—it means I've been reminded why it's so important. I'll keep trying, for everyone's sake."
The reporter scribbled furiously, and another hand shot up. All Might nodded to a woman toward the back.
"Many believe you've suffered a personal tragedy. Is this true?"
All Might's lips tightened for a brief moment before he answered. "Heroes face many challenges, both public and private. I won't deny that life as a hero is demanding, but I can assure you that my focus remains on protecting the people and ensuring their safety. That's what matters most."
Another reporter stood, her voice quick and sharp. "There are rumors you're preparing for a war. Is there a specific threat we should be worried about?"
"A hero's job is to always be prepared, no matter the circumstances," All Might replied, his tone unwavering. "While I won't comment on specific threats, I'll say this: our society is strong, and our heroes are vigilant. There's no need to fear—we will stand ready to protect everyone."
The answers reassured some, but murmurs of skepticism rippled through the room. A bolder reporter raised his hand.
"What do you think about the current state of heroes?"
For the first time, All Might's expression shifted, his gaze softening slightly. "Heroes give people hope," he began. "But like any other system, it is not without its flaws. These flaws are things that I think heroes and civilians alike will have to address to continue moving forward."
The room erupted into stunned murmurs. The face of heroism himself had acknowledged flaws in the hero system. Cameras clicked furiously as reporters jotted down notes, eager to dissect the implications.
A reporter stood quickly. "What do you mean by flaws?"
The flashes seemed to slow as All Might's face hardened into a frown. He exhaled deeply before answering. "There are many flaws. Flaws in how the whole society depends on a single figure—meaning me.
"When I first started wanting to be a symbol, I had hoped others would be inspired to become pillars of society alongside me. But I've noticed that, even after a few years, I'm still the only pillar. Like any building supported by a single beam, no matter how strong, once that pillar falls, the entire building—our society—will come crashing down."
The press was floored, the sound of pens scratching against paper echoing in the stunned silence.
Another reporter stood hesitantly. "Are there any other flaws the public should note?"
All Might's frown deepened, his voice growing more serious. "Another flaw is the fact that nowadays, heroes focus too much on their appearances. To me, it feels like being a hero has lost some of its meaning. Many pursue heroism for the cameras, not for the lives they save. But to their credit, they are saving lives.
"Another flaw," he continued, his tone heavier now, "is that some organizations have too much power in hero society. And with great power comes great responsibility. The problem is, there's nothing to keep such organizations in check."
The silence that followed was deafening. The reporters had never seen this version of All Might—brutally honest, unflinchingly transparent. It was a stark departure from the cheerful, grinning hero they had idolized for years.
Media Reaction
The press conference became the top story across every major news outlet, with headlines ranging from praise to criticism:
"All Might Speaks the Truth: A Call for Reform in Hero Society?"
"Where Is Our Smiling Symbol? The Changing Face of All Might"
"All Might's Warning: Are We Too Dependent on One Hero?"
Social media buzzed with divided opinions:
Supporters: "I love this change in All Might! He's being brutally honest, and we need that transparency. He's showing us he's human, and that makes him an even better hero."
Critics: "This isn't the All Might I grew up with. Where's the hero who always smiled, who never made us feel like there was something to worry about?"
Theorists: "He's avoiding the personal tragedy questions. My guess? He's preparing for war, and he doesn't want us to panic."
The HPSC's Reaction
In a towering office at the HPSC, the president slammed a folder onto his desk, sending papers flying. Lady Nagant stood across from him, her face impassive as his anger filled the room.
"You couldn't even monitor All Might!" he roared. "And now he goes ahead and does this? Challenging our authority in front of the entire nation!"
Nagant's cold, steady gaze didn't falter. She remained silent, letting the storm of his anger pass.
The president sat down, his tone softer but no less frustrated. "Why weren't you able to monitor him?"
"I tried," Nagant said calmly. "But he caught on immediately. He thought I was a villain and... choked me. Though he let go after recognizing me."
The president's expression shifted to curiosity. "Interesting. Anything else?"
Nagant hesitated briefly, then said, "After that, I realized monitoring him would be impossible."
The president waved a hand dismissively. "Fine. You're dismissed."
As she left the room, Nagant's mind drifted back to the press conference. She remembered the words All Might had spoken, addressing the flaws she herself had seen but had tried to patch up through her deadly missions. His awkward smiles played in her mind, and she found herself chuckling softly.
Looking down at her hands, she thought to herself, Maybe... the time where I don't have to do this will come.
The chapter ended with Lady Nagant standing in the hallway, her thoughts filled with both doubt and hope as the shadow of All Might's bold words loomed over the HPSC.