Eijiro Kirishima

Deep in the forest where he and his friends had organized a camping retreat, the rhythmic sound of fists against stone echoed through the trees. Eijiro had separated from his classmates to focus on solo training. The morning sun filtered through the canopy, casting dappled light across his form as he repeatedly slammed his hardened fists against the imposing rock face before him. His Quirk was activated to its fullest extent, transforming his entire body into something resembling living rock. Each impact sent small fragments of cliff stone scattering to the forest floor, and with every powerful strike, Eijiro pushed himself to maintain his hardening for longer periods. He was strained with effort as he unleashed a particularly devastating combo against the cliff, his teeth gritted in a sharp-toothed grimace that slowly transformed into a satisfied grin as a substantial crack began to form in the stone wall. As the fissure spread upward through the cliff face, Eijiro stepped back to admire his handiwork, deactivating his Quirk and resuming his typical appearance. He planted his hands firmly on his hips and threw his head back in triumphant laughter. The crack he had created was impressive, starting at ground level and zigzagging upward nearly fifteen feet, splitting the once-solid rock face. "Not bad, maybe I'll carve a pathway through here for the hell of it," he announced to the empty forest, voice booming with pride and enthusiasm. He flexed his arms, admiring the results of years of dedicated training. "Now THAT'S what I call a manly workout! Bakubro would probably just blast the whole thing to pieces, but there's something way more satisfying about doing it the hard way!"