❝ 𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴 . ❞ [ Katsuki Bakugo x reader ]

08

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙴𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃,

𝚂𝙴𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙳-𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽 𝙿𝙾𝙸𝙽𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝚅𝙸𝙴𝚆...

The man stood with his back to the counter, idly finishing some busy work. The sound of someone's knuckles rapping against the wooden desk made him jump. He spun around to see who had startled him. He put on a smile.

"Hello, how may I help you?" The man asked politely, approaching the counter. Detective Tsukauchi shows the man his badge.

"I'm Detective Tsukauchi and I'm looking for a missing boy," He told the man with a serious expression and tone. "We have reason to believe one of your patrons has direct ties to him."

"Oh, that's terrible," The man muttered in worry. "I've only had two people book a room this morning, and one of them was alone."

"The other person wouldn't happen to match this sketch would they?" Detective Tsukauchi unfolded a piece of paper from his coat and placed it on the counter. Detective Tsukauchi examined the police sketch carefully.

Detective Tsukauchi had a feeling they were close. The police had tracked the blue pick-up truck to that motel. If it turned out to be a dead-end, he was not sure where else a new lead could turn up.

"Yes, it was," The man said, somewhat confused. "She was with her teenage son."

"Son?" Detective Tsukauchi clarified. "What did he look like?" The detective hoped this was another symbol in the pattern he was discovering.

"Oh, I'm not sure," He admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "But they were arguing, and he sounded very angry." This information gave Detective Tsukauchi just a spark of hope. "They rented room eight. I don't think they're here right now, though."

"Can we take a look around anyway?"

...

Your eyes scanned the streets twice as fast you could jog down them. Given your experience in finding people who do not want to be found, you knew tracking him down on foot would be far easier than by car. The sound of cars driving past filled your ears and the buildings all blurred together.

As you frantically turned a corner, your eyes fell upon the exterior of downtown shops, a sidewalk, and someone sitting on the curb by a bus stop. You would not have given that individual a second thought if it was not for the familiar sweatshirt they were wearing. After all, it was yours.