Chapter Text
Kirishima was sitting alone in the examination room, waiting for the doctor to come in. He took a deep breath. The smell of incense, something used to cleanse the clinic of negative spirits, had filled the room completely. Watching the swirly smoke helped relax him.
Mina had urged him to make the appointment, but he still wasn’t sure he needed help. There wasn’t anything wrong with him health wise and his sleep and mental health were great. Yet Mina had insisted, pointing out that with curses it could all be a matter of time or running into the right trigger. She being part fairy and he being human, he’d been forced to take her advice.
He wasn’t sure how long the mark had been there. Probably no more than a day. A little black mark, about the size of a pencil eraser, on his skin just under the rib cage. It looked like a tiny pebble. He had tried smudging it. Properly scrubbing it away. Nothing would fade it. Denki asked if he’d gotten a tattoo and just forgot. It was a dumb theory, but it was better than the others they’d come up with. One being that someone had snuck into his room in the middle of the night and done it without his noticing. Another was that he’d been branded by demons.
His friends weren’t very good at reassuring him.
He looked up at the ceiling, trying to stay positive. So far no one, demon or otherwise, had come looking for him. Whatever this was, it hadn’t impacted him negatively yet. Best to wait and see what the experts had to say.
His attempt at serenity was stopped short when the doctor walked in, swinging the door open so fast it hit the wall. He didn’t apologize, keeping his attention on the clipboard with the questionnaire Kirishima had filled out in the lobby. He tried to catch his attention, to greet him and get his name, but he wouldn’t reply. Without looking up he pointed a pen at Kirishima and said, “Take off your shirt.”
He did as he was told, but hesitated about laying down or sitting up straight. Both felt awkward. He settled on sitting up. It felt more proactive.
The doctor examined the pebble, taking notes.
“You say nothing else is wrong? No aches? No bad luck? No dark spirits crowding the corners of your bedroom?”
“Uh, no. Just the pebble.”
“Don’t move.”
The doctor took something out of his pocket. A tiny glass vile of purple liquid. He took a swab from the counter, soaked up some of the purple, and dabbed it on Kirishima’s mark.
Kirishima hissed. It burned. And it made the area glow gold. The doctor touched the skin for the briefest second before the glow disappeared.
He scowled, obviously displeased.
“You didn’t say shit about being from a magical race in your paperwork.”
“Because I’m not?”
“Not according to this.” He tapped at the glass bottle. “Lie to my face again I’m gonna throw you out.”
Kirishima didn’t know what to say. His parents and their parents were all human.
“Maybe it’s expired?”
“You saying a run a shitty clinic?”
“No, no. It’s just, I know I’m human. Check my ID. Non-magic.”
The doctor held his hand out, waiting. Kirishima reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and his ID.
The doctor scanned it before saying, “Someone at the DMV fucked up because I didn’t.”
Kirishima sighed in frustration. He tried to argue, but the clinician was staring at the pebble.
It had changed. It had snapped in half.
“Something triggered the spell.”
Kirishima touched his skin, the pebble felt warm.
He was starting to worry. “Can you do something?”
“Not if you keep lying.”
“Okay, well let's say that’s true-”
“It is.”
“-can you test to see what magical race I am?”
The clinician looked down at the clipboard again, at the section about insurance.
“Fine. Don’t fucking move.”
He went out, calling for the nurse.
“Hagakure! Get me a blue box. Yes, now.”
A minute later a blue box came into the room in a pair of floating latex gloves along with floating scrubs. The doctor snatched it away.
“Don’t forget to take lunch before one.”
A feminine voice replied, “No problem, doc!”
“Don’t call me that. Fuck off.”
The doctor opened the box, removing a bottle of silver liquid. He shook it, with more vigor than necessary, then opened and applied it on a patch of skin on his chest.
Kirishima watched anxiously as the skin there turned red, and scaly.
The doctor smirked. “Congratulations, one of your ancestors fucked a dragon.”
The nurse was called back again, “Bring me a dragon grade purple dose!”
A different woman came in instead, a doctor with long black hair tied in a knot.
“Hagakure is taking her lunch.”
She handed the box over.
“A dragon’s pretty rare these days.”
The first doctor grunted, busy mixing the new purple potion with a powder Kirishima hadn’t seen before. The woman addressed Kirishima with a smile and introduced herself, “I’m Dr. Asui. Dr. Bakugou is a little unorthodox, but he has a background in dragon care. You’re in capable hands.”
Kirishima, still in shock, hadn’t said a word. He nodded, barely able to force out a thanks.
Dr. Bakugou had the next test ready in his hand. He pushed Dr. Asui out the door with the other, telling her in an annoyed tone, “Let me deal with my patient, Frog Girl.”
Alone again, Bakugou applied the new test. The pebble had changed, something was poking out from the split. This time the liquid felt cold and the tattoo’s outline shone with a bright light.
“Looks like you’re learning all kinds of shit today, hair for brains. This isn’t a curse. It’s your own magic. That’s what you get for ignoring it for 28 years.”
Kirishima glanced down. Tiny leaves in vines had begun to come out. They were slowly spreading.
Alarmed, he looked to the doctor for answers. “Is it supposed to do that?”
The pace quickened, flowers were blooming. They spread all over his chest, up to shoulders, down his back.
Bakugou looked uneasy and stepped back.
“Fuck.”
That really made him worry. “Am I going to be okay?”
Dr. Bakugou scowled, looking hard at the flowers. “Dragons are so fucking dramatic.”
Kirishima sputtered. “Well excuse me for not knowing what the fuck is going on?”
“That’s not what I meant, dumbass.”
Reluctantly, the doctor touched a finger tip on a flower above Kirishima’s heart. The flowers spread, the vines curling around the doctor’s finger.
Kirishima might have thought it was pretty if he weren’t so confused and the doctor didn’t look so furious . His expression was in deep contrast to the delicate flowers spreading and disappearing under his lab coat’s sleeve.
When he pulled away the flowers settled, leaving Kirishima tattooed everywhere up the edges of his face and the palms of his hands.
The doctor scribbled something on his clipboard while speaking. He swore the clipboard was cracking under his grip.
“The magic was dormant, but it isn’t now,” he sounded strained, obviously fighting to stay calm, “I don’t care about your family drama bullshit, but you’ll want to fix your shit with various government agencies. Here.”
He handed Kirishima a paper with a prescription.
“This should help with your magic suddenly manifesting. You’ll also probably want new shirts. Your wings are coming in.”
Kirishima reached for his back. Something was there, two small bumps under his skin.
“I can’t believe this. What am I supposed to do?”
Bakugou rolled his eyes. “You think you’re having a bad day. I just found out I’m fucking pair bonding to some dumbass dragon.”
Kirishima spun around, eyes wide with disbelief.
“What?”
Bakugou handed him a slip of paper with a phone number and a name, Katsuki Bakugou, written under it.
With a grimace, he added, “Don’t you get it? We’re kismet .”
As he spoke, the flowers creeped up from Bakugou’s collar, framing the sides of his face. Kirishima felt something hot, like fire, building in his chest.