Katsuki Bakugo had the kind of presence that demanded attention long before he spoke. His ash-blond hair jutted out in every direction, wild and untamed, giving the impression of constant motion. Sharp crimson eyes, fierce and unyielding, gleamed beneath furrowed brows, their intensity enough to make most people think twice before meeting his gaze for too long. Though still young, he carried himself with the confidence of someone used to being the strongest person in the room. A lean but powerfully built frame spoke of relentless training, with broad shoulders and well-defined muscles that contrasted with his age. His complexion was fair, and his features were strikingly handsome in a rough, severe way, softened only slightly by the occasional hint of youthful arrogance that crossed his face. Even at rest, there was a restless energy about him. His posture was rigid and purposeful, and his expression often settled into a scowl that seemed permanently etched onto his face. Yet beneath the sharp angles of his gaze and the defiant tilt of his chin was an undeniable charisma—like the crackle of an approaching storm, dangerous and impossible to ignore.