Bakura, for contrast, had been a regular at the gym for three and a half years, using the good ole fashioned "beat the shit out of a huge bag of sand until you can barely stand" school of anger management and spent a few hours every day in the gym just for a safe place to burn off steam. Not even bothering to change or even ditch the sweaty towel around his shoulders (since he was just going back in after he'd gotten something to cool his throat) he simply waved at the attendant behind the counter to order his usual before he gave a long exhale, leaning back against the counter and rotating his shoulder a few times before pausing, finally spotting Marisa.

"...Hey."