[ The following morning, a hiss of shower is shut off and when the door is slid to the side, a strong fragrance, Mine's own high-end shampoo and hair mask, wafting across steam and vapor back into the open. Nishikiyama is naked and dripping onto a towel he's laid out for himself on the floor. He pats himself dry with a different one while looking at himself in the mirror. Clunk, clunk. The drawers come out when Nishikiyama fishes around for more products to sample. He finds himself fond enough of Mine's shampoo line to swap brands.
His figure moves over the sink. With one hand planted on the edge of the counter, he spreads the pores of his nose bridge in his reflection, studying them carefully and deeply lost in vain observation. ]
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His figure moves over the sink. With one hand planted on the edge of the counter, he spreads the pores of his nose bridge in his reflection, studying them carefully and deeply lost in vain observation. ]