[ And Fuuta, oblivious to her desires, slips out of the shower stall as soon as he's pulled the door open wide enough and scurries his way out of the baths. It's silent for a few moments before there's the plap of wet feet padding across the damp shower floor, then the creak of the shower door easing open again. ]

Here.

[ Fuuta shoves his arm in, first, holding out one of the bigger bath towels for her to take. There's a brief pause before he pokes his head in afterward to confirm that it's him, though he averts his eyes from her soon afterward. Out of principle.

He's hurriedly thrown on his own shorts and T-shirt, though a hasty job toweling himself off and the humidity of the air's plastered the flimsy fabric against his skin, damp and almost translucent. ]

C'mon. Cover yourself up and you can get outta here. Can't be comfortable being naked when you don't even know where you're at.