Facial features are quirked up in a wide grin, his eyes fixated on the sand bag his fist were slamming against. Roughened skin pounds against the hide of the punching bag with each throw of his arms, drawing them back and shifting in his stance before throwing another quick few hits.
Draw back and shift. Repeat.
His pace was quickened, his body jumping back only slightly as he hopped on one of his feet a bit before his body was tilted to the side, the right being lifted to hurl his foot into the leather hide. Senji straightens, going right back to punching the sand bag wholeheartedly. He was definitely into his whole training routine.
Though throughout the entirety of his punching and the occasional toss of his foot to the heavy training equipment, the crow had no idea of the person standing in the door way of the weight room.