To be cold is bad. To be in pain, is bad. Manx was thus very uncomfortable in being both. Storm like blasts of freezing wind pushed against the young man as he made his way from the hospital, pushing against his sore body (healing fast is one thing, but none can quickly recover from a barrage of anchors) Manx muttered and cursed, only for the words to vanish in the wind. The slushy snow that slapped at him only made it worse, and he zipped his thin summer jacket up fully, cramming his hands into his hands into his pockets in a bid to keep them warm.

'Stupid Kanto'. The Orange Islander mentally grumbled. 'Stupid cold weather...stupid winter...Never get this cold crap back home...'

Finally giving in, Manx ducked into the nearest available doorway, his bones felt like they had locked up and he just needed to get warm...he couldn't walk anymore, he'd practically been running to keep going.

"I-I-I'm sorry...I jus...I jus need a momen..." Manx stuttered to whoever was inside. Looking up, he gaped a little at the familiar reception layout, and the sign above the desk.

-VERMILLION CITY GYM-

"Oh boy..."