Hi. I'm back. My thoughts were not thinking. Sorry for being gone so long!

Second Person P.O.V

The sun was just beginning to peek through the curtains of Y/n's bedroom, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. The gentle light brushed against her (s/c) skin as she lay in bed, her (h/c) hair sprawled across the pillow. She stirred slightly, but the heavy feeling in her abdomen prevented her from fully awakening. It was that time of the month again, and Y/n knew what was coming.

At 21 years old, Y/n had been dealing with her period for nearly a decade, but it never got easier. In fact, it seemed to get worse with every cycle. The cramps, the nausea, the overwhelming fatigue—it all hit her like a tidal wave. Her body was at war with itself, and Y/n was simply a casualty, enduring the brutal symptoms that accompanied her menstrual cycle.

As the alarm on her phone began to ring, Y/n slowly reached out to silence it. She groaned softly, feeling the familiar ache in her lower abdomen intensify. She curled up into a ball, pulling the covers tightly around her as if they could shield her from the pain. But there was no escaping it.

Y/n had planned ahead this time, knowing that the worst days were inevitable. She had taken the week off from her job, which some unbearably annoying things happened, and people would question her mood. The thought of dealing with people while battling the relentless pain was unbearable, so she had requested the time off, citing "personal reasons."

Fukuzawa had been understanding, though Y/n suspected that the real reason for her absence had not gone unnoticed. In Japan, menstrual leave was not unheard of, but it was still a sensitive topic, and Y/n preferred to keep the details to herself. She didn't want to explain that her cramps were so severe that she often passed out or vomited. She didn't want to admit that her blood flow was so heavy that it sometimes felt like she was hemorrhaging. She just wanted to be left alone to endure it in silence.

As she lay in bed, Y/n felt the first wave of nausea roll over her. She took deep breaths, trying to quell the queasiness, but it was no use. She knew she would have to get up soon. Her body was already demanding attention, reminding her that she needed to take care of herself, even if it felt impossible.

With a reluctant sigh, Y/n slowly sat up, wincing as the movement caused a sharp pain to shoot through her lower back. She placed a hand on her abdomen, pressing down slightly in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort, but it only made things worse. Her body felt heavy, weighed down by the burden of her period, and she struggled to find the energy to move.

After a few moments, Y/n finally swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. The room spun slightly as she rose to her feet, and she had to grab onto the edge of the bed for support. She took a few deep breaths, willing the dizziness to pass, before slowly making her way to the bathroom.

The bathroom was a small, but cozy space on the second floor of her two-story house in Yokohama. The white tiles were cool beneath her feet as she walked in, and the scent of lavender lingered in the air from the diffuser she had set up a few days ago. Y/n had always found the scent to be soothing, and she needed all the comfort she could get right now.

She glanced at herself in the mirror, noting the pale hue of her (s/c) skin. Her (e/c) eyes were tired, with dark circles beginning to form beneath them. She looked as exhausted as she felt. With a heavy sigh, Y/n turned away from the mirror and began to prepare for the day ahead.

Her first task was to deal with the immediate problem: the heavy flow of blood that had already soaked through her nightclothes. Y/n undressed quickly, wincing as she peeled the fabric away from her skin. The sight of the blood was almost overwhelming, but she forced herself to stay calm. This was just the beginning of what would be a long, grueling week.

She knew it would be such a pain to get the stains out of the clothing. She hated trying to clean up blood stains. Why did she have to have been created as a female? Next time, Y/n would remind her to create others without the problems bodies usually have.

She stepped into the shower, letting the warm water cascade over her body. The heat helped to soothe her aching muscles, and for a moment, Y/n allowed herself to relax. But the relief was short-lived. As soon as she stepped out of the shower and began to dry off, the cramps returned with a vengeance. It was as if her body was punishing her for even daring to feel better, if only for a moment.

Y/n dressed in comfortable, loose-fitting clothes—an oversized hoodie and a pair of soft leggings. She needed to feel as comfortable as possible, knowing that any added pressure on her abdomen would only make things worse. She carefully applied a sanitary pad, knowing that she would need to change it frequently throughout the day. The thought of how many she would go through over the course of the week made her stomach churn.

With a trembling hand, Y/n reached for the bottle of painkillers on the bathroom counter. She hesitated for a moment, knowing that the relief they offered was minimal at best. But she needed something—anything—to take the edge off. She swallowed two pills with a gulp of water, grimacing as they went down. It was a futile effort, she knew, but she had to try.

The rest of the morning passed in a haze of pain and exhaustion. Y/n moved slowly, each step a struggle as her body continued to rebel against her. She tried to eat a small breakfast, but the nausea made it difficult to keep anything down. Eventually, she gave up and returned to bed, curling up beneath the covers once more.

The hours dragged on, and Y/n found herself slipping in and out of sleep. The pain was relentless, a constant presence that gnawed at her insides. She could feel the cramps radiating from her abdomen, spreading to her lower back and down her legs. Her muscles tensed and spasmed uncontrollably, and there were moments when the pain became so intense that she thought she might lose consciousness.

Oh, and lovely, she had a migraine now. Y/n's day just seemed to be going as good as she thought. At the very least, women didn't have to use the toothpick method. That was the only good thing about being a woman. However, these unbelievable regular happenings called periods, sucked.

In the midst of her suffering, Y/n found herself reflecting on the unfairness of it all. Why did she have to endure this every month? Why was her body so cruel to her? She had tried everything over the years—painkillers, heating pads, herbal teas, even meditation—but nothing seemed to help. The only thing she could do was wait it out, to let the storm pass and hope that next time it wouldn't be as bad.

But deep down, Y/n knew that it would be just as bad, if not worse. Her period had been like this for as long as she could remember, and it showed no signs of letting up. The doctors had offered little help, dismissing her symptoms as "normal" or telling her that "some women just have it worse." It was a frustrating, disheartening reality, but Y/n had learned to live with it. She had no other choice.

As the day wore on, Y/n's condition only seemed to deteriorate. The cramps became more intense, causing her to double over in pain. She clutched her stomach, tears streaming down her face as she tried to ride out the wave of agony. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. It was as if her body was being torn apart from the inside.

In the midst of her suffering, Y/n felt a familiar sense of dread begin to creep in. She knew what was coming next—the nausea was becoming unbearable, and she could feel her stomach churning violently. She barely had time to make it to the bathroom before she was doubled over the toilet, vomiting up what little food she had managed to eat that morning.

When it was over, Y/n collapsed onto the cool tile floor, her body trembling from the exertion. She lay there for a few minutes, too weak to move, as the tears continued to flow. This was her reality, her life for the next week. She would be confined to her bed, trapped in a cycle of pain and misery until her period finally decided to let up.

Eventually, Y/n managed to pull herself together enough to return to bed. She lay there, staring up at the ceiling, her mind foggy from the pain and exhaustion. The room was quiet, save for the sound of her own ragged breathing. It was a lonely, isolating feeling, but Y/n had grown accustomed to it. She had learned to endure her suffering in silence, knowing that there was little anyone could do to help her.

As the sun began to set outside, Y/n felt a deep sense of despair settle over her. This was only the first day, and she was already at her breaking point. How was she supposed to get through the rest of the week like this? The thought of enduring another six days of this torment was almost too much to bear.

But Y/n was nothing if not resilient. She had faced this battle before, and she knew she would face it again. There was no escaping it, no running from it. All she could do was take it one day at a time, one hour at a time, one breath at a time.

And so, as the darkness of night began to envelop the room, Y/n closed her eyes and tried to find some semblance of peace. The pain was still there, gnawing at her insides, but she did her best to push it to the back of her mind. She focused on her breathing, on the rise and fall of her chest, and tried to calm the storm that raged within her.

Tomorrow would be another day—a day of pain, of struggle, of endurance. But Y/n would face it as she always did, with quiet strength and determination. Because she had no other choice. This was her life, and she would endure it, one day at a time.

End of Third Person P.O.V

Should I write the rest of the week? Or just leave it here and pretend that the rest of the week happened? Anyways, I hope this doesn't make anyone uncomfortable! Stay safe and healthy, please. Have a good day/night/evening/morning/ afternoon! Thank you for reading Witch Mentality! Yes, I've changed it once more. This is the final change to the title.