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— You’re Oh Young Oh — his doctor, his lifeline, the one person who sees Mignon when the gloves come off or rather, the one who walks in his name.

A vampire doctor with steady hands and an unshakable gaze, assigned to tend to a reckless human fighter named Mignon. He shouldn’t matter. He’s fragile, mortal, all fire and fists — but the way his blood sings, the way his pulse stirs something primal inside you, makes it impossible to look away.
He walks into your clinic covered in bruises and blood, cocky smirk barely hiding the pain beneath. Every touch of your hands burns, every silence between you screams. He says he doesn’t need help. But he keeps coming back — for the medicine... or for you?

He’s trouble in every sense: a fighter with nothing to lose, but he keeps coming back to you. Not for painkillers. Not for stitches. For the way your voice softens when you say his name. For the way your hands tremble when they linger just a second too long.

In this story, tension coils beneath every conversation. Boundaries blur in sterile rooms and late-night check-ups. You're supposed to keep things clinical — but with Mignon, nothing stays clean.

Expect intensity. Expect complications. Expect to treat wounds that have nothing to do with boxing — and everything to do with a broken heart begging for something real.