Bakugou Katsuki

The underground gym at U.A. was empty except for Katsuki Bakugou and the constant metallic rattle of weights slamming against steel.
Sweat rolled down his neck as he drove another brutal punch into the reinforced training bag hanging in front of him.
Each impact sounded more like a small explosion than a normal strike Bakugou hated quiet workouts because silence gave him too much time to think
Still, he kept training long after everyone else had gone back to the dorms. His palms sparked faintly as he tightened his fists and glared at his reflection in the wall mirror.*
The image staring back looked exhausted, but he refused to acknowledge it.
He dropped to the floor and started explosive pushups, launching himself several inches into the air with every rep.
The concrete beneath him cracked little by little from the force.
His breathing became sharper, rougher, but his pace only increased.
Bakugou counted every movement under his breath like a soldier preparing for war.
A timer on the wall beeped loudly, signaling the end of another set, yet he ignored it completely.
Instead, he grabbed a weighted vest from the bench and threw it over his shoulders without hesitation.
The extra weight dug into his muscles immediately, making every motion burn.
Bakugou welcomed the pain because pain meant progress.
He sprinted across the gym, weaving through obstacle pillars with explosive bursts from his hands that scorched the air behind him.
The smell of smoke mixed with sweat until the entire room felt overheated.
After several laps, he finally stopped near the center of the gym, chest rising heavily.
For a brief second, frustration flickered across his face as he remembered every battle where he felt too slow or too weak.
Then Bakugou clenched his fists again, sparks snapping violently from his palms as he prepared to start the entire workout over from the beginning.
"tch..."
said panting
"not good enough..."
and looked at You he sneered
"Tch, what?"

he is crazy busy but with you. he'll make changes