A/N: Thank you, "Mafas Muzammil," For joining my Patreon and showing support
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"Young Uchiha, do you have a Hero you admire?"
All Might took a slow sip from the cup of coffee resting on the expensive glass table. His smile seemed casual, but his eyes quietly searched for a reaction.
"Favorite Hero?"
For once, even Uchiha Madara looked a little caught off guard. All Might wasn't the type to beat around the bush, and this sudden question was a little… out of character.
"Death Red Fist." Madara shrugged slightly, resting his elbow on the armrest. "I wouldn't say I like him… but I have a favorable impression."
All Might's hand paused midair.
Death Red Fist.
The very name brought back the morning's meeting—the surveillance video with Madara and that man appearing in the same dark alley.
Could there be something between them?
All Might forced a smile but quietly made a mental note. I'll have to investigate further.
"Well, you know," All Might leaned forward a little, adopting his usual sunny grin, "I think you should try talking with your classmates more. Staying closed off all the time isn't good for your growth, physically or mentally."
His tone was casual, but his words carried meaning. In All Might's eyes, Madara was still a fifteen-year-old boy—young enough to be influenced, maybe even saved if he was on the wrong path.
"And with the Sports Festival coming up… You're not thinking of training?"
Madara set down his coffee. "I'm not good at making small talk… And there's nothing I need to train."
All Might blinked. "Nothing? Hypnosis still needs sharpening, doesn't it?" He waved both hands animatedly. "Like—how many people can you affect at once? How long can you keep them under? Aren't these things you should master?"
Madara stared at him. He had been expecting a subtle interrogation, not this… well-intentioned coaching session.
"How many can you hypnotize at once? What's the time limit? These are crucial in battle, you know! Any uncertainty could spell disaster in real combat."
The words tumbled out as All Might leaned in, gesturing energetically.
Madara's eye twitched. Does this guy realize how far off-topic he's gone?
"…Has anyone ever broken your Hypnosis by force?" All Might suddenly asked, his tone shifting to serious.
Madara blinked, then shook his head. "No."
"Perfect!" All Might cracked his knuckles. "Let me try it now!"
The confident gleam in his eyes made Madara blink in disbelief. Was this man serious?
Before Madara could even answer, All Might hesitated. "Wait… if I try and force my way out, will there be side effects?"
Madara smiled faintly. "Relax, All Might. You won't be able to break it." He tilted his head slightly. "Shall we begin?"
A wide grin spread across All Might's face. "Bring it on, Uchiha boy! Show me what you've got!"
Madara rolled his eyes with a sigh. Seriously… this guy.
The sky overhead turned a deep, suffocating red.
A blood moon hung silently in a void of dead silence. The air itself felt thick, almost oppressive.
"This… What is this place?"
All Might turned slowly, finding himself in a deserted city of crumbling buildings and lifeless streets.
A voice echoed softly behind him.
"Welcome… to my world."
Madara emerged from the shadows like a ghost, eyes glowing faintly.
"Here, everything is under my control."
All Might's heart thudded once, a flicker of unease rising despite himself.
"Uchiha… boy?" he called uncertainly.
"I'll leave you to figure out how to break free, All Might-sensei." Madara's form faded slowly into nothingness.
And then… silence.
In the end, even Neon's Number One Hero couldn't break the illusion.
Madara hadn't expected him to.
But instead of frustration, All Might only laughed heartily afterward, patting Madara's shoulder with one massive hand.
"Well played, Uchiha boy. You've got serious potential. Make sure you're ready—the Sports Festival's your stage now."
"…Sure."
Outside the villa gates, after bidding Madara farewell, All Might finally let out a long breath.
"Man… What terrifying Quirks…" he muttered, patting his chest as if to calm his heart.
Even after returning to the sleek black car parked by the curb, a thin layer of sweat clung to his brow.
Inside the vehicle, Aizawa Shouta cracked open one eye.
"Well? Did you learn anything useful?"
All Might chuckled, flashing a faint smile. "Nice kid."
His muscles rippled once, and in an instant, his towering form shrank, coughing violently until his familiar scrawny self slumped against the seat.
"You know that's not what I meant," Aizawa said flatly.
"Leave him to me." All Might looked out the window, watching the city blur past.
Aizawa frowned slightly, staring at the back of his head. "As a teacher, if you've decided to take responsibility for him… fine. But be careful. He's hiding things. And I'm sure his abilities go beyond what's on his file."
"I know." All Might's eyes softened, a rare look crossing his face.
Because in truth—deep down—he wasn't just thinking about Madara.
He was thinking of another boy.
Midoriya Izuku.
And of a shadow darker than any villain.
All For One.
Aizawa leaned back with a sigh. "Just… don't get soft on him."
All Might didn't answer.
Soft?
No.
It wasn't about being soft.
It was about hope.
If anyone could face that future threat, perhaps… it wasn't just Izuku.
Perhaps… this boy, with the eyes of a devil and the will of iron, could stand on that same battlefield.
Perhaps… Uchiha Madara might just be the wild card they'd been waiting for.
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