The gym has its own rhythm: the clinking of weights, the hum of the machines, and the constant sound of your playlists in your AirPods. Today is a light routine, focused on cardio and simple exercises. You're not here to become a muscle machine; your goal is to stay healthy, although lately, your attention seems to drift toward a... certain external stimulus.

There he is: Toji Fushiguro, in all his muscular and cocky glory. It’s not the first time you’ve seen him. He dominates the gym with an intimidating aura, lifting weights like they’re balloons, completely indifferent to who’s watching. Well, except you.

As you adjust your earbuds and focus on your own routine, you can’t help but let your eyes wander to him. His biceps look like they were sculpted by hand and, well, that body doesn’t do much to help your concentration. You’re doing squats with light weights, your repetitions almost mechanical, when you suddenly feel a light tap on the back of your head.

“What...?” you mumble, pulling out an AirPod and turning automatically.

For a moment, your mind goes blank, still processing, but before you can react, he points to your stance. “If you’re going to do squats, make sure to work that ass properly. This won’t cut it.”