Chapter Eight
Without direct exposure to sunlight, Doma felt considerably better. His strength returned, along with that reckless sensation of absolute invulnerability—the good old days, when the arms severed by one Hashira or another could be piled into small mounds within minutes.
Though he certainly had less raw power now than before. The former Second Upper Moon didn't know exactly how much less, but it was a great deal. None of that mattered, however, compared to his immunity to the Sun. He had conquered the most fearsome enemy of demons—that accursed yellow star. Muzan would have done anything in the world for something like this, and the owner of those diamond eyes had received it for… some reason. Unfortunately, there was no particular feeling of triumph—only a faint gladness. He would feel far more free with this ability going forward, though being under the Sun was still, clearly, not doing the demon any favors.
Right now he sat in the same office where Himiko had once been seen. When his mother had arrived at a theory for the cause of all this strangeness, she had hurried straight to the familiar hospital. She had reached the boy's father quickly by phone, and he had come by car, driving them both directly to their destination. There were no questions about the incident along the way—a concession to the boy's age and to the rather obvious nature of the situation.
Kaiyoshi, as before, remained outside the office door. The mother stood beside her son. Ordinarily quite composed, she was at this moment tapping out a nervous rhythm with her heel beside her calm child, who was even smiling—it was only in that moment that she registered this glaring strangeness. The boy had nearly burned alive, and he was still smiling serenely, directly into the face of the bald doctor.
*I'll need to take him to a psychologist.* Another thought ran through the blonde woman's mind.
The doctor himself sat in his chair in an extremely casual and unhurried posture, wearing a large pair of copper-framed spectacles with gear-shaped accents and green lenses perched on his nose. His fingers were interlaced, as if signaling that the visitors should speak first.
"Young Doma, tell me what brings you in." He rumbled in a kindly tone into his thick white mustache, watching his patient with a sharp gaze.
"I think I awakened my Quirk." Notes of childlike happiness and innocence rippled through the boy's voice. "But it was unpleasant…"
The emotions on the child's face shifted rather quickly—not lost on the doctor, whose eyes narrowed. The old man let out an amused grunt at the vague description and raised a grey eyebrow in silent inquiry. Kohaku, who had stopped displaying her tension for the moment, was listening attentively to this curious exchange.
"First, blue lines appeared on my arms and legs, and then… and th-then." The diamond eyes shimmered silver under the white light of the lamp as their owner sniffled, painting a rather heartbreaking picture. "I started to burn…"
The doctor's eyebrows shot upward, conveying unfiltered astonishment—burning, how exactly? The same mental question, however, did not concern Doma's mother in the least, as she had already dropped swiftly in front of the child and pulled him into a hug. He returned it with a slight embrace around her shoulder, revealing an extremely pale wrist and slightly pointed blue fingernails—the mandatory demonic metamorphosis.
The doctor waited patiently for these wordless displays of tenderness to conclude before continuing the conversation with his patient. It took all of ten seconds for the boy's mother to slowly pull back and wipe the tears from his pale eyelids with her fingertip. The whole process was accompanied by that same smile of his.
In the narrowed pupils of the office's owner burned an easily noticeable, fierce flame of rabid interest—well concealed by the glare of his unusual spectacles' large lenses. His posture had not changed when the boy continued in a cheerful tone that was entirely unnatural for his situation:
"But then it stopped, and all the wounds healed quickly." His smile stretched a little wider, baring long and dangerous-looking fangs. "And I can feel that I've become much stronger."
"By how much?" The doctor tilted his head questioningly.
"I don't know, but a lot…" He pressed a finger to his pale lips and raised the slits of his rainbow eyes toward the ceiling in thought. No one interrupted, allowing him to continue. "When the Sun was no longer shining on me, I felt that I had become even stronger…"
"Hm…" The doctor drew the sound out with an obvious note of deliberation. Kohaku was equally thoughtful as she watched the child. "One can say with certainty that your Quirk is of the Mutation type…"
The sickly pallor alone was impossible to miss—to say nothing of the glowing diamond eyes, their slit pupils, and the sharp-looking blue fingernails alongside those white fangs. The associations, combined with weakness to sunlight, pointed toward something distinctly supernatural.
"What does that mean…?" The boy tilted his head in an endearing way.
"A Quirk connected to fundamental changes in your body that affect its properties and physical characteristics." The doctor raised an instructive finger, finally uncoupling his interlaced hands.
"Oh!" Doma drew a breath of delighted wonder. "I understand, Garaki-san!"
*What an intelligent child…* The interest in the office owner's gaze deepened. The mother did not look particularly surprised—clearly already well aware of her little one's aptitude.
"I think we should conduct an examination and run some tests… And then you'll give your Quirk a name." Kudai Garaki rose from his chair, adjusting his white coat. "You're not afraid of needles, are you, young Doma?"
"Nope…" The boy shook his silver-haired head back and forth in an amusing fashion.
"Good…" The elderly man gave a satisfied grunt into his mustache.
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