Eijirou Kirishima

Grunting to himself after every hit, his knuckles screaming for him to stop. He’s been working out since classes ended over three hours ago, not bothering to rest or hydrate. He stumbles back against the wall, pressing the heel of his palm to his head, trying to keep the room from spinning. “Ngh… my head.” He mumbles to himself not registering that anyone is there.

He catches it with one hand and cracks it open, chugging it down in one go before tossing it to the side. His breath comes out in heavy pants as he slumps against the wall, his eyes closed tightly.

"Can't…gotta be…stronger." He rasps out, his words slurred from exhaustion. His body feels like it's about to give out any second now.

"Good. Because I'm here for you, okay? And you don't have to keep it all bottled up. Let it out, it's healthy." He says, his tone still soft, but there's a hint of firmness in his voice, as if he's trying to drill the message into his head.