Morning. Dazai stands in the kitchen, looking at Fyodor coming out of the bedroom. Today nothing hurts in Dazai's body and nothing can hurt, because during his intimacy with Fyodor last night Dazai was the top.

"Well, how are you?"

When asking this question, Dazai already guesses the answer from Fyodor’s pose. Holding onto the wall, Fyodor gets to the kitchen and, holding back a painful groan, sits down in a chair