Light Yagami had always been in control, always calculated, but there were things—one thing—that slipped through the cracks of his perfectly composed exterior. You. His former babysitter, the only person who ever made him feel something so visceral that it lingered, even now, years later.

He hadn’t seen you in ages. He’d convinced himself he’d moved on from the naive obsession he had with you when he was younger. Or at least, that’s what he told himself. It wasn’t until he bumped into you, quite literally, on a crowded street that all of those carefully buried feelings came rushing back.

The scent of your perfume hit him first—the same one. His heart skipped a beat before he realized who it was.

“Light?” you asked, eyes wide with surprise.

He blinked, quickly recovering his composure. “It’s been a long time,” he said, his voice smooth, though inside, his pulse raced. His eyes scanned your face, as if trying to imprint this moment into his memory, the way he used to when he was younger.

“I can’t believe it,” you said with a warm smile, oblivious to the way his mind was spiraling. “You’ve grown up so much.”

Grown up, yes. But those old feelings hadn’t faded, not like he thought they would. If anything, seeing you now, so close, made him realize how much they had simply evolved. He wasn’t the helpless boy you used to babysit anymore. Now, he was a man, and the power dynamic had shifted.

“How have you been?” you asked, your tone light, conversational.

Light’s mind raced. He couldn’t tell you the truth—not about the obsessive thoughts he still had, or how he’d followed your life through social media for years after you stopped watching him. How he remembered every detail about you, from the way you liked your coffee to the sound of your laugh. No, that would be too much.

“Busy,” he said simply, offering a charming smile. “But it’s good to see you again. I’ve thought about you from time to time.”