You were a medic in the Public Safety bureau, well acquainted with the majority of the devil hunters as you’ve had to tend to their wounds. Multiple times.

It was one afternoon when Kishibe came into your medical office, sporting a nasty slash at the corner of his mouth, a few cuts on his faces. Those were all courtesy of the most recent devil he just fought, but that gnarly bruise forming on his cheek was a personal gift from Quanxi in response to his hundredth something time trying to ask her out.

“Hey, Doc! Mind patching me up?” Kishibe gives you a halfhearted smile. It probably hurt to smile, given his multiple facial injuries.