Chapter 91

I could tell that Park Il-Woong was not in a good mood on our way back, as he didn’t say anything. He didn’t seem particularly angry about getting hit on the head earlier. After all, it was just a light hit with such small hands, probably didn’t hurt at all, and he was likely not thinking much of it.

When we got home and parted ways, there was still no significant reaction. Park Il-Woong didn’t even get out of the car.

“I’ll be going now. I have some work to do.”

“Didn’t you say there were no schedules earlier?”

“Well, that’s true, but due to the nature of my job, things can come up unexpectedly.”

“Okay, take care. Thank you, Park Il-Woong.”

“Won’t you call me ‘uncle’ like before?”

“That was just a joke. I’m not a little kid.”

Watching Park Il-Woong’s car drive off, I went into the house. I shuddered at the faint smell of blood that still lingered in my home. My sense of smell seemed to have become hypersensitive, as the odor was bothering me too much.

Even though I had brought the sanitary pad to the hospital, it still wasn’t over. I had to clean the hardened blood on the sofa, and wash my clothes and bedding too. It wasn’t easy to do everything by myself in this state. After some deliberation, I decided to call someone for help.

The world has indeed become comfortable. I could just lightly call someone with my smartphone and hand over my laundry.

With that in mind, I thought I might as well gather all the laundry I had been putting off. Including the blankets that hadn’t been washed in ages. However, since I didn’t want to meet anyone right now, I had no intention of handing them over directly. I just took out all the clothes from the box that Park Il-Woong had brought me and placed the laundry inside, leaving it by the door.

When I checked the time, it was already four in the afternoon. I hadn’t eaten anything up to now. Yet, strangely, I had no appetite at all, and I didn’t feel like eating anything.

My condition wasn’t good, my mood was off, and I certainly wasn’t in a state to do much. Writing? There was no way I could write in this condition. I wasn’t in the mood to consume anything, and gaming didn’t pique my interest either.

I was in no condition to do anything active. No, I just didn’t want to do anything.

While I was aimlessly scratching at the warnings I received at the hospital, I glanced at the medication they had given me. Aside from a regular painkiller, which I was supposed to take once a day to stabilize my condition, there were other medications recommended depending on the situation, indicating that different medications be used for different menstrual symptoms.

…And there were also contraceptive pills.

I knew that contraceptive pills could delay menstruation, but I was a bit taken aback that they actually handed them over to me.

As I looked over the warnings again, there was mention of the contraceptives. They said if you absolutely had to delay menstruation or were planning on having sexual relations, then that’s when you should use them. The note ended with a recommendation not to use them unless absolutely necessary, as you need to monitor your cycle and your condition.

It was an absurd matter.

Just imagining it made me irritated.

But the fact that I wasn’t angry made me even more annoyed. The sensation of anger didn’t arise at all, as if it had been suppressed.

No, had it really been suppressed?

I couldn’t even muster a chuckle at my self-deprecating joke.

Letting out a deep sigh, I got up from my seat and headed toward the kitchen.

The instructions said I must take the medication after eating, so I had to eat something.

However, as soon as I opened the fridge, I realized I had been away from this house for quite a while, and I had mostly relied on instant food before that. There should be something to eat.

There was some instant food left, but I didn’t feel like having any right now.

In the first place, I wasn’t in a situation where I even wanted to eat anything. Forcing myself to eat something I didn’t want to just because it was instant food seemed like torture.

Eventually, I opened a delivery app. I considered ordering congee or something, scrolling through the options when something caught my eye.

…Chicken feet?

It wasn’t even something I normally liked, but suddenly chicken feet caught my attention. I couldn’t eat spicy food very well either, so I wondered what I was thinking ordering something like this; but then I saw that they offered a mild option.

I really didn’t have a strong desire to eat anything. I wasn’t craving chicken feet either. It wasn’t food I usually enjoyed, nor was it cheap. It was a food that girls seemed to like, and I couldn’t really see any appeal in it based on my standards. Moreover, I was currently in the middle of my period, and even if I wasn’t sure, I didn’t think spicy food would be good for me.

I wasn’t planning on ordering something just because it lingered in my mind.

But…

An hour later, when I opened the front door, there was the delivery sitting there.

One serving of boneless chicken feet, mild flavor.

Hmm… It’s better than I expected.

Things like Malatang, Tteokbokki, chicken feet, and Gopchang.

Foods that girls generally tend to like.

I didn’t particularly dislike them, but I didn’t like them enough to buy them myself. Had my taste changed due to my period? Or had I just noticed a change that had already happened?

Now, I realized that this new body of mine, being a woman, was changing my preferences and tastes too, but I didn’t even have the energy to lament over it. I still had no intention of giving up or struggling, but it was a fact that I was exhausted.

Because now I knew.

If the enemy is too strong, it’s not a problem.

The problem is that nothing changes even if you defeat the enemy.

Pessimism, cynicism, nihilism.

All that was left was that.

So what should I do?

I had already ordered the chicken feet, and at least this chicken feet was innocent. I wasn’t pushing myself into hardship; people needed to eat when they were hungry.

Just a moment ago, I hadn’t been particularly hungry, but anyway, I made that excuse and wrapped rice with chicken feet and kimchi.

It was delicious.

Ah, damn it.

The second day of my period dawned.

As soon as I woke up, I cursed. In fact, I probably had been cursing even before waking.

My abdomen hurt so much. It felt like someone was pulling my insides down.

Is this menstrual pain?

This is what it is?

The pain was on a whole different level compared to yesterday. Just yesterday, I had thought it was a relief that the menstrual pain wasn’t that severe, but now it was real agony that made me break into a cold sweat and clench my teeth. I had changed my sanitary pad before sleeping, yet my groin felt sticky. But that stickiness was completely negligible.

Clutching my abdomen, I awkwardly walked to the kitchen to take the pain medication they had given for when the cramps were bad and popped a pill in my mouth, washing it down with water.

Whether it was the placebo effect or not, I thought I felt a little, just a little, better.

That being said, my condition didn’t really improve. I trudged to the bathroom to change my sanitary pad, then returned to the sofa to lie down. I held my smartphone with one hand.

The sofa, which usually felt spacious, was uncomfortable.

I missed my soft bed.

Yesterday, after eating chicken feet, I had sat on the sofa at night out of habit, but there was no remote control. And of course, there was no TV, so I couldn’t watch any variety shows or movies like when I stayed at Ham Yejin’s house.

Ham Yejin wasn’t here either.

I don’t know if I missed her, but suddenly, this cramped house seemed to look excessively spacious in comparison.

Had I already started to long for living with someone?

That question was answered immediately.

What I missed was the bed.

Being on this damn sofa while bleeding in between my legs was horrible. It was frustrating to think that I had slept in a soft, nice, high-quality bed at Professor Seo’s and Ham Yejin’s place, but now I had to sleep on a sofa.

The sense of reversal was immense.

Should I just buy a cheap mattress? But no matter how much I tried, that mattress could never compare to the plushness of the high-end bed.

I didn’t understand why I was thinking such things while groaning in pain. There were so many worse things in my life, yet I didn’t know why I was getting angry over this stupid sofa; maybe my intelligence was diminishing with these thoughts.

I didn’t even know what nonsense was coming out of my mouth. I knew the words I was saying made no sense, but I also didn’t know where the problem lay or what wasn’t a problem. Was it really nonsense?

I just missed the bed.

I didn’t want to show this pathetic state to anyone, yet a contradictory thought popped into my mind that I wished someone would take care of me. So, it was the bed.

When I was on the bed, someone would take care of me.

That someone wouldn’t be anyone specific.

No one would take care of a body sprawled on the sofa or a thin blanket spread on the floor.

Was it from experience?

The delirious ramblings of a feverish mind only quieted down around lunchtime. I was extremely embarrassed. It wasn’t my period pain that made me act this way, nor was it my brain melting from fever. No, although I hadn’t shown anyone,

I had seen it myself.

Still, compared to the groaning I had done all morning, my condition had definitely improved. I was still in terrible shape, and the pain persisted, but the medication seemed to be finally kicking in—it was bearable.

Until the bell rang.

“…”

A silent sigh escaped.

I had no clue who it could be. There was no one coming. I confirmed that the laundry had already been picked up the day before. The empty box had already been brought inside.

When I looked at the intercom, there was a familiar junior standing there.

“…”

“Senior, I’m here~”

I hadn’t called her.

I hadn’t called her.

I had no memory of that.

Frustration surged up suddenly, twisting my face.

I really didn’t want to be seen like this.

Not in this state.

“Senior? Could you please open the door?”

Right now, I wanted to chase her away. I wanted to yell at her to go away without even opening the door. It was an impulsive desire that was extremely destructive.

Still, the reason I eventually opened the door was that I understood this urge resulted from hormonal influences.

I didn’t want to be governed by such hormones, so I forced myself to open the door, like a contrary frog. Even though I knew this anger and irritation were justified, and that this urge contradicted my thoughts, I did it to go against it.

In fact, I might not have thought of such complicated considerations. Maybe it was just a whim.

Anyway, I opened the door.

Muk Ha-neul was there.

“Are you feeling okay?”

I greeted her, pretending nothing was wrong.

“Why did you come? Damn it.”