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“Are you sure you wanna do this, dude? I am very fast.”
Adrien dropped the leg he was stretching to smile in Kim’s direction. “I know.” He moved to situate himself next to the stadium soccer post—the ‘lane’ (Rose and Juleka set witches hats to make paths) Max assigned him in. “But what’s the harm in a friendly race? I didn’t have anything scheduled today anyway, and I haven’t had time to hang out with a friend in a while.”
Kim dropped his smug grin to shoot the blond a confused glance. Compared to former opponents (cough, Alix), Adrien didn’t seem that… well, competitive—nor the trash-talking type. In fact, he was still beaming at the few classmates gathered to his side who were cheering their names.
Didn’t he understand that this was a race? He even used the phrase, ‘hang out’. Racing wasn’t ‘hanging out’—A race was a gruesome battle between specimens performed with the intention of intensity and feuding! Adrien acted so nonchalant it perturbed him.
Kim decided it was either a manipulation technique to mess with his head before they took off (Adrien was too suspicious for his liking. He always seemed to be hiding ‘something’ behind that model smile, so brain games wouldn’t be surprising), or it was a coping mechanism to help him deal when he lost. Since, you know, Kim was an extreme athlete, and he made sure everyone knew it. Either way, he wasn’t going to let anything faze him.
When Kim approached Adrien in gym after an impressive game of basketball with the proposal of a race, he was surprised when he actually agreed. Usually, whenever Kim put the word ‘race’ in a sentence, people turned him down before the offer was even finished.
He was thankful Adrien was there at all, even if he didn’t take it as seriously.
Max stood between their respective lanes and began to review the rules Kim was already familiar with. He saw their small audience listening in a huddle from the grass. Marinette was holding a banner reading, ‘go Adrien!’ (Seriously, did she ever cheer for Kim?), while Alya was filming with Nino by her side, and few other students were behind them.
“…The first one to lap the field and pass me is declared the victor! On your marks…”
The words made him snap from his stupor faster than he could run. He crouched on a knee with the other foot firmed, and his fingers found the grass for stabilisation. From his point, he could see Adrien in an identical position next to him, the air of determination in his eyes.
Maybe he was taking it seriously.
"Get set…”
The adrenaline kicked. His butt shot up in the air and he leant forward so much he almost fell. Adrien—seated in the corner of his eye—was somewhat emulating the pose, minus the sharp arch, and his hands dug at the ground more. His position, Kim noticed, had hardly changed.
Then, Kim caught something that had definitely changed.
Is that…?
Adrien’s eyes—they weren’t his.
Whatever happened to them—and he hoped to all force that his split second glance proved wrong—wasn’t humanly normal.
Does Adrien have… slit irises?
“Go!”
They both bolted.
The confusion was tossed behind him as Kim accelerated into his acquainted sprint, but only to catch another horrific sight of a body speeding ahead.
And Kim almost fainted.
The culprit of the audience’s sudden deadening quiet and Kim’s verging face-plant wasn’t because of Adrien’s lead against the class-jock…
It was the sight of the blond’s run as soon as the race was declared.
At ‘On your marks’, Adrien was crouched on his hands; bent knees distanced from the ground and toes coiled as he raised himself.
At ‘Get set’, his pose had hardly morphed despite hands retaining a tighter grip in the ground and stamina elevated.
And weirdest of all—the gruesomely unnerving sight that numbed the entire stadium—was as soon as Max slipped out, ‘Go!’, it still had not changed.
As in, Adrien wasn’t just running.
But he was running with his animalistic position.
Like, with his hands.
Crouched. Gripping the ground as he leapt.
And he was a bullet.
Kim gaped, gasped, and choked on air while his body helpfully took over his malfunctioned brain so he could keep running (as demented as it looked). His half-death sounds were the only noises stolen over the premise while Adrien—
While Adrien—
…
What was Adrien doing?!
Why—just why was he running around the stadium like a cat?
He was winning. Boy was he winning.
Kim had tripped from the sight of Adrien three times so of course he was winning.
By the time the race ended Kim hadn’t even reached the halfway mark. Instead, he slowed to a stop and cut the centre of the field to stumble drunkenly walk back.
And from then on, everyone just stared.
At Adrien.
‘Slowly-realising-what-he-just-did puff-and-sweat-free’ Adrien.
“Oh.” His once slit-eyes dilated back to their normal state. “Oh.”
Kim pushed past the crowd starting to gather around Adrien with questions, looming over him to bellow a respective, “WHAT WAS THAT?!”
Adrien repeated the words in his mind. What was that? Why had he done it? He faltered at Kim’s imposing stare and stepped backwards, opting to blurt the first thing that came to mind before more people demanded answers.
“…I went fast!”
A beat.
Kim squinted his eyes and shook his head. “Wh—” His brows quirked in confusion. “Wh—What?!”
“I went fast. I won. I—” Adrien glanced around in panic, only to meet the stares of stoned classmates that did wonders for his impromptu speech, “—I figured out I can go faster doing that!”
Kim—still as lost as ever—opened his mouth to say something, but failed in finding words appropriate for response and ended gaping like a fish again.
He was thankful for Nino bringing him back to reality.
“Dude!” Everyone turned their heads to the boy slapping a hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “How did you do that? That was so cool! You went so fast!”
Adrien released a breath of relief.
…
The stiffened atmosphere relaxed and everyone broke from their frozen state around Adrien. His classmates continued the moment by questioning his ‘superpower’ with inquiries like, “How long did it take you to master it?” and, “Do your hands hurt afterwards?”, to which were answered with nervous gestures attached.
Marinette was swooning at the back of the group next to Alya, rambling on about how, “He’s so smart he even invented a way to be faster!” and so forth, while Alya rolled her eyes and nodded, deciding it was best not to bring up that he probably got it from Chat Noir (since the girl had a weird thing against associating the two blonds).
Only one classmate hadn’t comprehended any of it.
Kim, standing paralyzed on the track, was still just staring at the group unable to make sense of the situation as everyone gushed to and on about Adrien.
“Did no one else think that was the weirdest thing they’ve ever seen?”