There wasn't much for Akira Tanaka to do after he finished his shower. It was pleasant, as short as it was. But his body ached for... something more. Competition? Perhaps. Even he wasn't exactly sure.
Nevertheless, Akira, his hair still dripping wet and his waist wrapped around by a complementary white towel labeled "SIH", took out some of his spare clothes from out of his sack, which once carried food and water. A mist of steam was still pouring out of the bathroom, but quickly evaporated because of the room's cooler temperature.
Putting his clothes on, Akira stuffed his "dirty" ones back in the sack, then frizzed his hair up a bit with the towel he had used. After that, he took out a comb and neatly combed his hair the way he always has.
After dumping his towel in a nearby clothes bin, he went back by the phone and sat down near it, his emotions edgy, and his body uneasy.
(I want to talk with Yukina,) he thought to himself, (but I don't have any money on me... Why does it still have to be the afternoon??)
With a feeling of restlessness, all Akira could do was wait around for nightfall to come.
During this time, he caught sight of a fireplace, located on the opposite side of the beds.
"Hmm, a fireplace," Akira mumbled, standing to his feet and checking it out.
It was a metallic box, covered with a net of metal strings and locked near the bottom with a cheap lock. Inside, there was a glass, heat-proof window pane, and after that only darkness... Perhaps it was electronically controlled?
(This fireplace reminds me of our mansion,) Akira thought. It was rather true. Akira's home back in Tokyo wasn't an ordinary home. It was a near-exact replica of the mansion where he met his wife Yukina, and also the maid Miwako, and many of his other friends. It was a mansion he would forever treasure. And even the replica itself was unsatisfying. Of course, he couldn't have been happier in such an expensive home, and if it weren't for his friends, there would have been no way he could have supported it. Luckily, almost everyone he knows lives in it, and does their part to pay for bills and other things.
Akira took another glance into the fireplace, shrugged his shoulders, then went back to rest on his bed. He kept peeping at the phone at the corner of his eye, but to his displeasure it never rang (although he knew it probably never would). Leaving the phone to itself, Akira stretched on his bed, and thought it best if he got some shut-eye... at least until nightfall, that way he could talk with the one he loved most.
(I just hope I wake up in time,) he thought in a daze...
