Chuuya was lying on the couch in his living room with a heating pad lain across his stomach in a baggy, emerald green sweatshirt with nothing but a sports bra and boxers underneath. Being born a woman sucked, in his opinion. Chuuya took menstrual blockers, because he liked not having to deal with the problems that came with his period, but he had missed a week while he and his boyfriend were painting the walls of his apartment (he had stayed in Dazai’s apartment for the week and had apparently forgotten his meds in his apartment) and now he was here.

The copper IUD in his uterus did not help his condition, unfortunately. And, due to his sensory issues, he could fucking feel the clots coming out of his cervix. Disgusting. He felt lightheaded and nauseous.

He sighed, turning off the heating pad as he slipped off the couch to get some painkillers and water. The redhead walked into the kitchen, opening his medicine drawer to rifle through the painkillers he owned. He squinted irritably when he realized he wasn’t wearing his glasses (poor, far-sighted baby), and grumbled as he waddled over to his bedroom to grab said glasses. Chuuya put on his glasses, sighing as his vision clarified, and went back to the kitchen—only to fall to the floor in pain about halfway.

The redhead groaned, sitting on his knees with one hand on his abdomen in disgust and discomfort. Chuuya put a hand on the arm of his couch and pulled himself up. He debated just laying down and taking a nap, but that wouldn’t help the pain for long. The redhead stumbled back to the kitchen and continued rifling through the drawer. Giving up on the painkillers for a moment, Chuuya waddled over to the cabinet he kept his glasses in. He grabbed a glass and walked to his fridge to get a glass of water.

The redhead took a sip of the water and sighed, leaning against the fridge as his legs felt weak. He felt the strange crackling in the back of his throat but the idea of cooking anything right appalled him.