Once you two make it inside, Yamamoto turns to you as if he was waiting on something. "What?" You ask.

"Well?" You stare at him with a blank expression, not knowing what he's getting at. He scuffs and rolls his eyes. "Aren't you going to show me the conference room?"

You furrow your brows and look around the room. "You see the same amount of employees I see here, right? Why are you asking me?"

"Because you told me—"

"Figure it out." You walk off trying to find Katsuki's room. Near the elevators, you see a campus map. "Room 537." You mutter to yourself.

You make your way onto the elevator and press floor five.

You make it to floor five and you repeat his room number to yourself multiple times until you find it.

Once there you exhale. Not sure how to approach him. That's when the intrusive thoughts start rolling in: What if he's busy? What if he doesn't remember me?

Before you can give in to the temptation, you find yourself knocking on the door. Shifting by your weight back and forth from both legs.

"What is it?" He grumbles.

You pause, still not sure how to talk to him, you try anyway. "Katsuki?"

You hear rustling from the inside and footsteps, sounding like they're leading to the door. He opens it. "What is it you damn—" His eyes widen as he realizes who you are. "Y/n..."

You smile weakly. "Hi."

"It's been some time, hasn't it?" He mutters, gesturing for you to come in.

"Yup." You say. Five years and seven months. Not that you had counted. His gaze went down your body, sending chills down your spine. You quickly sit down at the chair in front of his desk.

"You look nice, y/n." You hear him mumble. His eyes had a look of lust in them, one that he knew would drive you mad. You swallow and look away, trying to keep things professional.

"I'm guessing you aren't here for a friendly chat, huh?" He says, holding his stare still as solid as possible. It makes you shift in your seat. "We've never been the friendly chat type."

You pull your blazer tighter to your body. "No, we weren't were we," you say, going off the nostalgia of your past times spent together. "Thinking about it, we were each other's sex toy, huh?"

His eyes widen. A tint of red was visible on his cheeks. He was caught by surprise, he hadn't been expecting you to say something like that to his face. Especially not in his place of business.

He leans back in his chair and folds his arms. "You aren't here for a friendly chat, you aren't here for sex, so tell me y/n. What are you doing in my office, wasting my time."

You inhale. Here comes the hard part. "I have a stalker."

He sits up straighter. Never in a million years had he'd expected you to be harassed in such away. Hell, he hadn't even expected you to show up today. "How do you know you're for certain?"

"Because," you pause. "I can feel him. I told the cops the same thing, but they said it's not possible to feel a stalker."

You look up to meet his gaze. He has the same look on his face as the police officers did when you first reported this. You roll your eyes. "Look, I can feel it, okay? Whenever I go to my training gym, when I go out at night. It's like, whenever they're near everything feels... off?"

He raises an eyebrow. "So you think someone's stalking you?"

Your jaw slightly drops. "I think," you say, emphasizing the word as you clench your hands. "Someone's been breaking into my house and rearranging things. My belongings aren't where I leave them. My doors and windows are locked, but someone keeps getting in."

Bakugou leans forward in interest. "What has been rearranged?"

You look away. "Clothes. Mostly undergarments, such as bras and underwear. Occasionally a shirt or two. Some go completely missing, and some are just left on my bed."

"Fuck." He mutters. What a lovely word to describe your situation.

"The police don't believe me at all. They came to my home and said there was no sign of break-ins and I may have been imagining the whole thing or just simply misplacing everything on my own." He clenches his jaw.

You two sit in silence until you remember, "Oh! They left a note today." You pull the piece of wrinkled notebook paper out of your purse and hand it to him.

I'll keep collecting
pieces
of you until
I complete the puzzle.

"They have shitty handwriting." Bakugou points out.

You ignore his remark and continue talking. "This isn't the first time this happened either. Back in Musutafu, this same thing would happen.

"The other day I found flowers in my locked home. Shits' weird."

A muscle flexes in his jaw. "Are you sure the flowers aren't a gift from your lover?"

You shake your head. "I don't have a lover. Not then, and not now." You exhale. "Again, the police don't believe me. I need help, Katsuki. Help me, please?" You lower your head, practically kissing your pride goodbye.

He takes a moment to think everything over. You understand it's a shocking topic. You'd be stunned if your ex came to you for assistance.

You hear him sigh. Before you can process anything, he walks around his desk, puts your hand in his, and stands you up.

At that one touch, everything you two once had came rushing back into your mind. Causing your stomach to feel heavy.

You looked flustered from his perspective. All this from one touch. One-touch and all of a sudden you miss everything. "It's still there." He sighs. "But we'll take of that later." Those words sounded like a promise to you, causing your cheeks to feel warm. "But right now, we need to figure out what the hell is going on with your life."

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