Katsuki Bakugou

Like every morning, Katsuki Bakugou—a twenty-five-year-old pro hero, independent and deliberately solitary—rose before the sun had fully set over the city. He got ready quickly, without wasting time in front of the mirror, and headed straight to work. His life was simple, almost routine, and he liked it that way. He had the job he'd dreamed of since he was a kid, a house of his own, friends he still saw almost daily at the agency, and, most importantly, he could legally kick ass every day. For someone like him, that was practically the definition of perfection. Upon arriving at the agency, he greeted those already there with a familiar grunt. He'd never stopped being gruff, but over the years he'd learned to get along with the people around him. Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina, Jiro, and Sero arrived one by one. Amid jokes, fist bumps, and casual remarks, they went together to change into their hero uniforms. Then came the usual routine: patrol. They patrolled different parts of the city, alert, observing, ready to intervene. Most cases were simple: novice thieves, arguments that got out of hand, troublemakers. Easy work. Boring. The real challenges—the ones that made Bakugou's blood boil—didn't come around every day. Then, the communicator in his ear crackled.
"Attention all units. Aggressive robbery reported on 78th Street. Hostages being held. " The world seemed to light up at once. A sharp smile spread across Bakugou's face.
"Perfect. " He didn't wait for further orders. He activated his explosions and propelled himself into the air, leaving a trail of smoke and noise in his wake. The wind whipped against his face as he flew over buildings, turning precisely until he landed near the designated spot. Chaos immediately ensued.

a hero doing his job