Chapter Text
I wasn't invited. Obviously. I hadn't expected to be. Marinette Dupain-Cheng had made her opinion of me rather clear. Still, I found myself standing on the balcony that evening, one hand resting against the railing as I watched the lights glowing from the apartment across the way.
Her birthday.
There were people everywhere. Friends. Family. Music. Laughter. Marinette was in the middle of it all, smiling so brightly that I could see it even from here.
I should have gone back inside.
Instead, I stayed.
It was easier to watch from a distance. No one could ask why I was looking. No one could accuse me of being interested.
I watched Marinette open gifts. She laughed. Her parents smiled. Someone handed her another present, and then Adrien stepped forward.
I straightened.
He was holding something small.
A bracelet.
I couldn't hear everything from this distance, but I didn't need to. Marinette opened it, and her entire face changed.
Not the polite smile.
Not the nervous one.
Not the smile she used when someone expected her to be happy.
This one was real.
She stared down at the bracelet as though someone had just handed her something priceless. Adrien said something, and she answered, but even from across the street, I could tell she was struggling to form a coherent sentence.
I smiled faintly.
Oh, of course.
It was Adrien.
Who else?
Then I watched him gesture toward his own wrist. The bracelet he'd made for her was apparently a lucky charm, something she'd given him, something he carried with him, something he had remembered. And now he'd made one for her.
I looked at Marinette again.
She was staring at the bracelet dreamily, completely gone.
I felt something unpleasant twist in my stomach.
I furrowed my brows.
This was becoming increasingly frequent. And inconvenient.
I watched her lift her wrist, and the bracelet caught the light. She smiled again, that same smile I'd noticed earlier, the genuine one.
I didn't like how much I wanted to see it again.
I didn't like that Adrien had managed to put it there so easily.
I didn't like—
No.
That was ridiculous.
It was a birthday present. A sweet gesture. Nothing more.
I rested my chin against my hand.
"You're really lucky, aren't you, Marinette?"
She couldn't hear me.
Good.
I watched her turn the bracelet around her wrist, examining every little detail. He had made it himself. That was what mattered to her.
Not the bracelet.
The person who had made it.
I remembered that.
I don't know why.
I simply did.
My eyes stayed on her. She looked happy, and despite myself, I smiled.
Then I looked down at my own empty wrist.
For some reason, I imagined what it would be like to give Marinette something I had created. Something she would look at like that. Something that would make her smile.
I furrowed my brows.
What an odd thought.
I straightened and stepped back inside.
I was not envious of a bracelet.
That would be absurd.
I closed the balcony door.
Then opened it again.
One last glance.
Marinette was still smiling.
I smiled too.
"Happy birthday, little seamstress."
And this time I didn’t know why I wanted her to have heard it.
I didn't think about the bracelet again.
At least, that's what I told myself. I definitely didn't think about the way Marinette had looked at it, or the way she'd smiled, or how carefully she'd fastened it around her wrist. I certainly didn't wonder whether she still wore it the next morning. That would have been ridiculous.
Fortunately, I had other things to occupy my attention.
Like Marinette.
Again.
I was beginning to suspect she was becoming a problem. Not a serious one. Just an interesting one.
There was a difference.
Just a strange little addiction.
And then Kagami Tsurugi walked into the fencing class.
I noticed her immediately. Everyone did. She had the kind of presence that made people straighten their backs without realizing they were doing it: perfect posture, perfect uniform, perfect expression. She walked onto the court like she already belonged there, then took the fencing sword without fidgeting, without looking nervous, without looking impressed by anyone.
Then she challenged Adrien.
I raised an eyebrow.
Oh.
This was new.
Adrien looked surprised. Marinette looked—
I glanced at her.
There it was again.
That little shift in her expression. Not jealousy this time.
Interest.
She was fascinated.
Kagami moved. The first strike was so clean that half the class gasped. The second was faster. By the third, everyone was watching, including Marinette.
Especially Marinette.
Her eyes followed Kagami's movements with open admiration.
I smiled faintly.
You like her.
That was unexpected.
Kagami was good. Very good. Actually, annoyingly good. I understood why Marinette was impressed. She was everything Marinette wasn't on the fencing court: controlled, precise, confident. Marinette was watching her like she'd just discovered a new species.
Then Kagami looked at Adrien.
And Marinette's expression changed again.
Ah.
There it is.
Adrien.
Of course.
I almost chuckled.
So that was the pattern. Kagami impressed her. Adrien affected her. And whenever the two happened at the same time, Marinette apparently forgot how her own brain worked.
Relatable.
Wait.
No.
Not relatable.
I didn't have that problem.
I had perfectly functional brain chemistry.
Probably.
The duel continued. Adrien and Kagami moved so quickly that I stopped pretending to understand the technicalities of fencing. Marinette, however, was completely absorbed. Then came the moment when she had to decide who had touched whom first.
She hesitated.
Naturally.
She looked at Adrien, then Kagami, then Adrien again. I could practically hear the gears grinding inside her head.
She chose Adrien.
Kagami didn't look pleased.
Neither did Marinette.
That was interesting.
I tilted my head. She hadn't wanted to hurt Kagami's feelings, even while choosing Adrien.
Biased.
I filed that away.
Later.
Maybe.
I didn't actually have the notebook with me.
Things went wrong quickly after that. Kagami left, Marinette looked miserable, and Adrien tried to explain. I watched them from a distance. There was something strange about the way Marinette looked at him. She wanted his approval, his attention, his affection. That much was painfully obvious.
And Adrien—
Well.
Adrien was Adrien.
Oblivious.
Kind.
Infuriatingly kind.
I was beginning to understand why Marinette had fallen for him.
Unfortunately.
Then the news came.
Kagami had been akumatized.
Riposte.
I watched the chaos unfold from a safe distance: silver armor, a saber that could slice through almost anything, and an expression that made it very clear that Kagami wasn't interested in talking.
Marinette disappeared.
Adrien did too.
I should have been paying attention to the villain.
Instead, I was watching Adrien.
He moved toward Marinette.
Not away.
Toward her.
Riposte attacked.
Adrien put himself between them.
My fingers tightened around my phone.
Why?
The thought came so quickly I almost didn't recognize it.
Why her?
He didn't hesitate. Didn't even think about it. He simply protected her.
Marinette stared at him.
Of course she did.
She looked like she'd forgotten how to breathe.
I looked away.
I didn't like that.
I didn't like the feeling that had appeared in my chest. It was stupid. Completely stupid. Adrien protecting Marinette was good. It was sweet. It was exactly the sort of thing Marinette wanted.
So why did I feel like I wanted to throw something at him?
I watched again.
He was still standing in front of her, shielding her.
I exhaled through my nose.
Get out of the way, Agreste.
He didn't.
Seriously.
He still didn't.
I looked at Marinette. She looked safe. Happy, almost.
And suddenly I was annoyed with myself, because she was smiling. Even in the middle of all this. Because he was protecting her.
I hated that I noticed.
Later, I heard what Adrien had said about her.
I wasn't supposed to be listening.
I listened anyway.
Kagami had asked him about Marinette. Adrien had explained that she was nice, kind, a little clumsy, someone he cared about, someone who meant well.
Then came the sentence.
The one that made me stop.
She's a really good friend.
I stared at them from my spot on a nearby bench.
For a second, I didn't move.
Then I laughed once.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was unbelievable.
"A really good friend."
I repeated the words quietly.
Marinette would hate that.
No.
Worse.
Marinette would be devastated by that.
And suddenly I felt sorry for her.
Actually sorry.
I didn't like that either.
She wanted him.
She really wanted him.
That much was obvious now. There was no mystery left. Marinette Dupain-Cheng had a hopeless crush on Adrien Agreste.
Case closed.
I should have been satisfied.
I'd figured it out.
The mystery was solved.
So why did hearing him call her a really good friend make something inside me feel...
disappointed?
That made no sense.
I didn't care who Adrien liked. I didn't care what Marinette wanted. I definitely didn't care whether she got it.
And yet—
I remembered the bracelet.
Her smile.
The way she'd looked at Adrien.
The way she'd looked at me.
My stomach twisted.
I looked down. My fingers were tapping against the wood.
I stopped them.
"No."
I wasn't doing this.
I wasn't getting emotionally invested in Marinette's ridiculous love life. I had better things to do. I had plans, profiles, people to manipulate, information to collect. I didn't have time to worry about a girl and her oblivious crush, especially when said girl apparently couldn't decide whether to stare at him, impress him, or spontaneously combust whenever he came within five feet of her.
I smiled despite myself.
My favourite troublemaker.
Then I paused.
That sounded affectionate.
I frowned.
"...Whatever."
I opened my notebook. I went home to grab it since apparently I constantly have new observations to write.
I turned back to the page.
NEW VARIABLE: KAGAMI TSURUGI
That was what I should have been writing about.
Kagami was useful information. Akuma victims were useful information. I had enough notes on the previous ones already: their powers, their weaknesses, their emotional triggers, the way Ladybug and Cat Noir had defeated them. I didn't need to remember every detail anymore. I had the important ones.
Kagami, however, was new.
I tapped my pen against the paper.
Excellent swordswoman.
I wrote it down.
Extremely disciplined.
Confident.
Competitive.
Good. This was productive.
I underlined KAGAMI TSURUGI.
Then I added:
Appears interested in Adrien.
My pen stopped.
I stared at the sentence. Then, beneath it:
Marinette noticed.
Wait. No.
That wasn't relevant.
I crossed it out.
Marinette was impressed by her fencing.
I stared at that one. Still not relevant.
I crossed that out too.
Marinette looked nervous when Kagami approached Adrien.
I dropped my pen in the middle of my notebook.
"...Seriously?"
I leaned back on the bench.
This was ridiculous.
I picked up the pen again.
Kagami Tsurugi.
Confident.
Precise.
Unusually direct.
Doesn't hesitate.
I nodded.
There.
A proper profile.
Then my eyes drifted toward the next line.
Marinette isn't like that.
I froze.
Slowly, I scratched it out. Tried again.
Marinette hesitates.
Scratch.
Marinette overthinks.
Scratch.
Marinette gets flustered around Adrien.
Scratch.
I stared at the increasingly blackened section of the page.
Somehow, I had managed to turn Kagami Tsurugi into another list of things I knew about Marinette.
I sighed.
I flipped to a fresh page.
MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG
I stared at the name.
Then laughed quietly. "You're becoming a problem."
I should have been annoyed.
Instead, I smiled.
And beneath her name, almost without thinking, I wrote:
Still the more interesting variable.
I didn't think about her smile again.
At least, that's what I told myself.
Unfortunately, Marinette Dupain-Cheng had apparently decided to make that difficult. Not deliberately. That would have been easier. No, she simply kept existing, and apparently, I kept noticing.
Which was why, when Alya plopped down next to me the following week at school and started talking about Marinette's latest romantic catastrophe, I listened.
Not because I cared.
Obviously.
"She's trying again," Alya said.
I looked up from my phone. "Trying what?"
Alya gave me a look. "Adrien."
Ah. That.
I smiled politely. "Oh?"
"She has a plan."
"Of course she does."
Alya sighed. "It's actually a really good plan this time."
I raised an eyebrow.
"That's what you said last time."
"And it was!"
"Was it?"
"She just... had some complications."
"Several."
"Okay, several."
I laughed, and Alya started explaining anyway. Apparently, Marinette had organized an entire operation around Adrien's photoshoot at the Trocadéro Gardens. There were fake parking signs, a rickshaw, rose petals, a carefully planned route, and friends stationed around Paris like they were conducting a military exercise, each one with codenames based on flowers.
I stared at Alya.
"She's doing all that?"
"Yep."
"For a walk?"
"A romantic walk."
I nodded slowly.
"Right."
Alya grinned. "She really likes him."
I already knew that. I'd known for a while. Still, hearing it from someone else made something twist unpleasantly in my stomach.
"She does," I agreed.
Alya looked at me.
"You know, you could help."
I smiled. "No."
She laughed. "I was kidding."
I wasn't.
Later that afternoon, I happened to be near the Trocadéro.
Pure coincidence.
Obviously.
I had no reason whatsoever to go there. It wasn't as though Alya had just spent ten minutes explaining Marinette's ridiculous plan to me, and it certainly wasn't as though I was curious whether it would work.
I leaned against the railing and watched.
There she was.
Marinette.
Running around with Alya and the others, she looked determined, focused, almost competent.
I smiled yet again. She seemed to have an uncanny ability to pull smiles out of me lately.
The plan was impressive, admittedly. They'd thought of everything. Adrien's bodyguard was distracted, a fake no-parking sign was strategically placed, a rickshaw waited nearby, and there were rose petals and perfect timing. Even André with his famous ice cream for couples.
I watched Marinette peek toward Adrien.
Her expression softened.
That look. Again
The one she'd worn with the bracelet.
The one that made her entire face change.
I looked at Adrien, then back at her.
Oh, Marinette.
You really are hopeless.
I watched her friends scramble around her. Juleka nearly got lost trying to find the ice cream man, Rose chased after the rickshaw, Alya was somehow still functioning and Alix looked like she did not want to be there. And Marinette—
Marinette kept going.
Every time something went wrong, she improvised. Every time the plan fell apart, she found another solution.
It was really impressive.
Then she noticed someone struggling with a stroller.
I watched her expression change.
She stopped. The date disappeared from her mind.
She looked at the woman, then at the baby, then at the stairs. Alya tried to stop her, but Marinette went anyway.
I blinked.
She helped.
Of course she did.
I watched her carry on afterward as if she'd done nothing unusual.
I smiled faintly.
Interesting.
She had wanted this. Really wanted it. And she'd still stopped because someone needed help.
I filed that away.
Then I noticed something else.
She was still trying. Still trying to get to Adrien, still trying to impress him, still trying to make everything perfect.
I almost felt sorry for her.
Then everything changed.
A man shouted. People looked up. There was a flash of light, and suddenly—
Paris emptied.
It was weird. One moment, there were tourists everywhere. The next, there were practically none. People ran, cars were abandoned in the streets, and the entire Trocadéro seemed to evacuate in seconds.
I stared.
"Well."
That was convenient.
A giant baby appeared.
A very giant baby.
I took one careful step backward.
"Absolutely not."
I ducked behind a stone structure as the enormous creature stomped through the square, screaming about lollipops. Apparently, his name was Gigantitan.
I decided I didn't need to know anything else.
From my hiding place, I watched Marinette. She was helping the baby's mother get away.
Still helping people.
Even now.
Then—
She vanished.
Huh?
One second she was there. The next, she wasn't.
I looked around.
No Marinette.
Then I noticed Adrien. Or rather, didn’t notice him.
He had disappeared too.
I stared at the empty space where he'd been standing.
My eyes narrowed.
That was...odd.
Very odd.
I looked back toward the battlefield.
A black blur landed nearby.
A bell rang.
Cat Noir.
I blinked.
Then I looked at the empty space where Adrien had been.
My eyes narrowed further.
Strange.
I didn't have time to think about it.
Ladybug appeared moments later, and she and Cat Noir immediately began fighting Gigantitan, drawing him away from the civilians.
I watched from behind the pillar.
Ladybug was good. Fast. Confident. She made decisions almost instantly. Improvised when things got out of hand. She made me think of Marinette. If Marinette ever became confident in her choices, especially with Adrien.
Cat Noir was...
Cat Noir.
I smiled despite myself.
He was ridiculous.
But effective.
They worked together easily.
Naturally.
Everyone loved them.
I watched Ladybug throw her yo-yo around Gigantitan's wrist. The giant baby flung her onto the roof, and Cat Noir joined her. They exchanged some joke I couldn't hear.
Ladybug laughed.
Then they went back to work.
I glanced toward the empty space where Marinette had disappeared.
Then toward the place Adrien had disappeared.
My smile faded.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
The battle continued. Eventually, Ladybug and Cat Noir won. The giant baby disappeared, the streets slowly filled again, and people came out of hiding as though Paris hadn't just been abandoned five minutes earlier.
She landed perfectly.
No hesitation. No fumbling.
Marinette would have tripped over the landing.
Ladybug simply straightened and kept moving.
Precise. Confident. Almost annoyingly so.
Still...something about her felt familiar.
And then—
There they were.
Marinette.
Adrien.
Appearing right where they previously were, as if nothing had happened.
I stared at them.
Marinette was slightly out of breath. Adrien looked perfectly innocent. Neither seemed particularly interested in explaining where they'd been.
Huh.
I didn't know what that meant. Not yet. But I knew enough to recognize a pattern.
Marinette disappears.
Adrien disappears.
Ladybug appears.
Cat Noir appears.
Then Marinette and Adrien reappear.
Coincidence?
Probably.
Maybe.
I tilted my head.
No.
I didn't have enough information.
And I liked information.
So I watched.
Marinette immediately went back to her friends. Alya started talking, Rose hugged her, Juleka looked relieved, and Mylène asked where she'd been. Marinette gave some perfectly ordinary explanation.
Then Adrien approached.
Marinette's entire face changed.
Again.
Of course.
Alya whispered something to the others, and they started hiding behind a pillar. Apparently, they hadn't given up.
I watched Marinette take a breath. She looked terrified, then determined.
She called his name.
Adrien turned.
"Marinette! What are you doing here?"
I covered my mouth to hide my laugh.
Oh, sweetheart.
You had spent the entire afternoon building an elaborate romantic operation. You had coordinated half your friends, redirected traffic, and nearly been crushed by a giant baby, and now you were standing in front of the boy you liked with absolutely no idea what to say.
I shook my head.
My clumsy girl.
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Adrien smiled.
Marinette blushed.
I looked away.
I shouldn't have found this adorable. I did anyway.
I pulled my phone from my pocket.
For a moment, I considered opening my notes app.
Instead, I opened my notebook.
The page was blank.
I wrote: Marinette Dupain-Cheng
Then: Overachiever.
I paused.
Plans everything.
Another line.
Terrible at following her own plans.
I smiled.
Will abandon anything if someone needs help.
I thought about the stroller.
Cannot watch someone struggle without intervening.
Another line.
Creates things constantly.
I stared at that one.
Then added: Fixes things constantly.
My pen stopped.
I looked across the square.
Marinette was still talking to Adrien.
She was smiling.
That smile again. The real one.
I looked down at the page.
My handwriting slowed.
She makes things for everyone.
I hesitated.
Then, beneath it: I wonder if she’d make something for me.
I stared at the sentence.
My stomach dropped.
I immediately crossed it out.
Too personal.
For several seconds, I didn't move.
Then I closed the notebook.
"Nope."
I slipped it back into my bag.
Across the square, Marinette laughed at something Adrien said.
I looked at her.
And smiled.
Adrien offered to take her home.
I watched Marinette freeze. For half a second, she looked like she'd been handed the answer to every problem she'd ever had, like the universe had suddenly arranged itself into exactly the shape she'd been hoping for. Then she shook her head.
“No, that's okay!”
I blinked.
What?
Adrien looked surprised. “You sure?”
“Yeah! My parents are expecting me.”
They weren't.
Well. They probably were. But that wasn't the point.
Adrien smiled. “Okay. See you tomorrow, Marinette.”
“See you!”
He walked away, disappearing gradually into the crowd, and Marinette watched him go. I watched Marinette. Then I watched Adrien disappear completely from sight.
A strange little warmth settled in my chest.
Oh.
That was... nice.
They weren't going home together. They weren't going to spend twenty minutes alone in a car. He wasn't going to make her laugh. She wasn't going to stare at him the entire way home. They weren't going to have some ridiculous little romantic moment that I absolutely did not want to imagine.
I looked at Marinette. She was still staring after him with the most devastated lovesick expression I'd ever seen.
Poor thing.
I should have felt sorry for her.
Instead, I felt...relieved.
A crease appeared between my brows.
Relieved?
That was ridiculous. Why would I care whether Marinette went home with Adrien?
I didn't.
Obviously.
I was simply pleased that she wouldn't have to endure his company for another twenty minutes.
That was all.
Good choice, troublemaker.
Then I caught myself.
I hadn't called her that before.
Not out loud, anyway.
I looked away.
My jealous little seamstress.
That felt safer.
Somehow.
I glanced back at her. She was still watching Adrien leave, and despite everything, I smiled.
She really was adorable when she was disappointed.
I hated that I thought that.
I hated even more that I meant it.
Back home, I simply stared at my notebook. I should’ve written about Gigantitan. About Riposte or the chaotic Befana. Instead, I wrote about Ladybug and Marinette.
Ladybug reminded me of Marinette.
Not exactly.
Ladybug had none of Marinette's clumsiness.
Where Marinette stumbled, Ladybug moved.
Where Marinette hesitated, Ladybug decided.
Where Marinette turned bright red whenever Adrien so much as breathed in her direction, Ladybug could stare down an akuma without blinking.
But there was something underneath it.
The same stubbornness.
The same instinct to help.
The same ridiculous refusal to leave anyone behind.
If Marinette ever became confident in her choices—really confident—
if she stopped second-guessing herself...
I wondered if she'd look something like Ladybug.
My pen hovered over the page.
I had started this profile because information was useful. Patterns were useful. People were easier when you understood their patterns. Marinette, however, seemed determined to ruin that principle.
I flipped back through the pages. Overachiever. Plans everything. Terrible at following her own plans. Cannot watch someone struggle without helping.
I tapped the pen against the paper.
Then I added another word.
Maker.
I stared at it.
It fit.
Marinette made things. Constantly. Clothes. Costumes. Decorations. Posters. Gifts. Food. Little things nobody had asked her to make, things she could have simply bought.
She didn't.
She made them herself.
Even when she was stressed.
Especially when she was stressed.
If something was missing, Marinette made it. If something was broken, Marinette fixed it. If someone needed something, Marinette somehow found a way to create it. She didn't seem to know how to simply leave things alone.
There was always something to improve. Something to change. Something to create.
I smiled.
Maker.
I underlined it.
Then, after a moment, I added:
She puts pieces of herself into everything she makes.
My smile faded slightly.
I remembered the bracelet. Adrien's bracelet. The way she'd looked at it.
It hadn't mattered because it was expensive. It hadn't even mattered because it was beautiful.
It mattered because he had made it.
Because he'd taken the time.
Because he'd thought about her.
I looked at the bracelet still wrapped around her wrist.
She was still wearing it.
Of course she was.
My eyes lingered.
Then my gaze drifted toward my own hands.
I imagined, for no particular reason, Marinette making something for me. Something small. Something ridiculous. Something only I would understand.
I imagined her handing it to me with that nervous little smile.
Here.
I made this for you.
I blinked.
I immediately looked back down at the notebook.
No.
Absolutely not.
I crossed the thought out before I'd even written it.
Then I stopped. The pen was still touching the paper.
Slowly, I wrote:
She makes things for everyone.
I stared at the sentence.
Then added:
I wonder what she'd make for me.
I froze.
My eyebrows pulled together.
Why did I keep doing that?
I scratched the sentence out. Hard.
The ink nearly tore through the paper.
There. Problem solved.
Except the words were still visible beneath the black lines.
I sighed then turned to a clean page.
I wasn’t sure what category to put Marinette Dupain-Cheng in. She loved creating things. Not just designing them.
She baked with her parents. She helped people whenever she could.
It was almost as if she was constantly trying to create something around herself.
A solution. A little bit of comfort. A safe place.
It was... curious.
I'd called her Seamstress for so long that I'd forgotten why.
She wasn't just someone who made clothes.
She made things because making things was simply what she did.
She couldn't seem to look at an empty space without imagining what could exist there.
And, somehow, she'd started doing the same thing to me.
She'd made herself a space in my head.
I wasn't sure how to get her out.