The roar of the crowd hit me like a physical wave. Colors exploded everywhere – vibrant costumes, flashing lights, and the excited chatter of thousands of people. This was my first time at a cosplay convention, and I was buzzing with excitement. Especially since I was here with Eijiro Kirishima, my boyfriend.
We'd been dating for six months, and every moment with him felt like a scene from a shojo manga. He was everything I admired: brave, kind, and undeniably handsome, especially today in his Crimson Riot cosplay. I'd chosen to go as a casual student, not wanting to draw too much attention to myself with an elaborate outfit.
"This is so manly!" Kirishima shouted over the din, his grin wide enough to light up the entire convention hall. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer as we navigated through a sea of superheroes and anime characters.
We spent hours exploring the convention, marveling at the intricate costumes, buying quirky merchandise, and posing for pictures with other cosplayers. Kirishima was in his element, radiating positive energy and making friends with everyone he met. I loved watching him; his enthusiasm was contagious.
Around mid-afternoon, a dull ache started in my lower abdomen. I frowned, trying to ignore it. It was probably just the uncomfortable cosplay I was wearing. I pushed it to the back of my mind, determined not to let it spoil our date.
We stopped at a food stall for a quick snack. I ordered a small plate of takoyaki, but found myself picking at it listlessly. The cramping was getting worse, and a wave of nausea washed over me.
"You okay, Y/N?" Kirishima asked, his brow furrowing with concern. "You seem a little pale."
"Yeah, just a little tired," I lied, forcing a smile. "All the excitement, I guess."
I knew exactly what was going on. My period was starting, a few days earlier than expected. Usually, I was prepared but this time I wasn't. I didn't want to make a big deal out of it. We were having such a great time, and I didn't want to ruin it.
We continued to wander through the convention, but my discomfort grew steadily. The cramping intensified, and I started to feel self-conscious. Every time I stood up, I felt a strange warmth that made me increasingly anxious.
Then, it happened.
As we were admiring a particularly impressive display of hand-made props, I felt a sudden gush. Panic seized me. There was no mistaking it. My period had well and truly started, and I had no supplies. I tried to discreetly check the back of my jeans, my heart pounding in my chest.
The damage was worse than I feared. A dark stain was spreading rapidly across the fabric, a stark contrast to the light wash denim. I felt my face burn with shame and embarrassment.
"Y/N? What's wrong?" Kirishima's voice was full of concern. He'd clearly noticed something was off.
I couldn't meet his eyes. "I… I need to go to the bathroom," I mumbled, turning away from him.
I practically ran towards the restrooms, my mind racing. What was I going to do? I didn't have anything with me, and there was no way I could walk around like this. I wanted to disappear.
As I hurried through the crowded hall, I bumped into a group of cosplayers, muttering apologies as I pushed past them. I could feel their eyes on me, and I knew they were staring at the stain on my jeans. The humiliation was overwhelming.
I finally reached the restrooms and locked myself in a stall. Tears welled up in my eyes. This was a disaster. I had ruined our date, and now I was completely mortified.
A gentle knock on the stall door startled me. "Y/N? It's me, Kiri. Are you okay?"
His voice was so soft and gentle, it made me want to cry even more. I couldn't let him see me like this.
"I'm fine," I choked out. "Just… not feeling well."
"Can I come in?"
"No!" I said quickly, regretting the sharp tone immediately. "I mean… I just need a minute."
There was a pause. "Okay," he said quietly. "I'll be right outside."
I sat on the toilet seat, trying to compose myself. I knew I couldn't hide in here forever. Taking a deep breath, I unlocked the stall door and stepped out.
Kirishima was standing there, his expression a mix of concern and understanding. He took one look at me and his eyes widened slightly, but he didn't say anything. He simply took off his jacket – a cool, crimson denim jacket that completed his Crimson Riot look – and held it out to me.
"Here," he said, his voice gentle. "Tie this around your waist. It'll cover it."
I stared at him, tears streaming down my face. He understood. He knew exactly what was going on, and he wasn't disgusted or embarrassed. He was just… being Kirishima.
"I… I ruined our date," I sobbed.
He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a warm hug. "Hey, hey," he murmured, stroking my hair. "It's okay. It happens. It's not your fault. And you didn't ruin anything. I'm here for you, okay?"
His words were like a balm to my wounded pride. I clung to him, feeling the tension slowly drain from my body.
"Let's get you home," he said, pulling back slightly. He tied his jacket around my waist, carefully concealing the stain. "My moms are at the house, they'll know what to do."
The thought of meeting Kirishima's parents in this state made me cringe, but I trusted him. If he thought it was the best thing to do, then I would go along with it.
We walked out of the restrooms, Kirishima's arm protectively around my shoulders. He led me through the crowded convention hall, ignoring the curious glances we received. He didn't care what anyone else thought. His only concern was me.
The drive to his house was a blur. I was still feeling shaken and embarrassed, but Kirishima's presence was a constant source of comfort. He held my hand, squeezed it gently, and reassured me that everything would be alright.
When we arrived at his house, I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the inevitable meeting with his parents. Kirishima opened the door and ushered me inside.
"Mom! Mama! We're home!" he called out.
Two women emerged from the kitchen, both with warm smiles on their faces. One had short, spiky red hair like Kirishima, while the other had long, flowing black hair. They both had kind eyes and welcoming expressions.
"Welcome home, Eijiro!" the woman with red hair said, beaming at him. "And you must be Y/N! It's so nice to finally meet you."
"It's nice to meet you too," I mumbled, feeling my cheeks flush.
Kirishima's mom with the black hair seemed to notice my discomfort. She gave me a knowing look and said, "Honey, why don't you come with me? I think I have something that might help you feel better."
She led me to the bathroom, where she pulled out a box of sanitary products and a clean pair of sweatpants. "Here you go, dear," she said, handing them to me. "Take your time and get changed. We'll be in the kitchen if you need anything."
I changed into the sweatpants, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. It was such a simple gesture, but it meant the world to me.
When I came out of the bathroom, Kirishima and his moms were waiting for me in the kitchen. They had made me a cup of herbal tea and set out a plate of cookies.
"Thank you," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "For everything."
"Don't mention it, dear," Kirishima's mom with the red hair said, patting my hand. "We've all been there. It's nothing to be ashamed of."
I spent the rest of the afternoon at Kirishima's house, talking and laughing with him and his moms. They made me feel so comfortable and accepted. It was like I had known them my whole life.
As I was leaving, Kirishima walked me to the door. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me gently.
"Thank you," I said, looking up at him. "For being so… you."
He grinned, his eyes sparkling. "Always, Y/N. Always."
That day at the cosplay convention was a disaster, but it was also a turning point in our relationship. I learned that Kirishima was not just brave and kind, but also incredibly understanding and supportive. And I learned that sometimes, the most embarrassing moments can lead to the most beautiful connections. And that even a crimson tide couldn't wash away the feelings that we felt.