When Touga hadn't moved, spoken, or eaten in three days, Saionji gave up on waiting and looked the number up in the telephone book, and left a message when instructed to do so.
"I have a friend, I'm worried about him… no, that's not right. It's not a matter of suspicion. I know something's terribly wrong. We're roommates, he hasn't moved in three days."
Within the hour, he got a reply.
"Can you bring your friend in?"
Saionji glanced over to where Touga sat, still unresponsive.
"I was wrong to trouble you. I'm sorry to have wasted your time."
After another day of waiting, Saionji concluded that Touga wasn't just going to snap out of it, after all. So Saionji yelled at Touga until he ate something, dressed with a modicum of decency, and went with Saionji to the address listed in the phone book. The two of them sat in the waiting room for three hours, side by side, until the man that Saionji had called could make time for an appointment. Touga stared blindly at the opposite wall while Saionji read furiously through the assortment of magazines provided.
When the man came to escort Touga back to his office, Saionji was halfway through an article about an idol singer who he couldn't have cared less about. He dropped the magazine unceremoniously on the side table and let the complete exhaustion he had been holding back overtake him, leaning back against the cheap waiting room couch, eyes closed, hands limp at his sides.
Foolish as he knew it was, Saionji could only hope that this hour would bring to bear a miracle.