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Plagg grumbled as he found himself awoken at an unusually early hour. It wasn’t a school day, and Marinette’s parents hadn’t said anything about needing her help in the bakery in the morning, so Plagg had been looking forward to a nice, lazy, sleep-in morning.
Ugh, he hoped it wasn’t an Akuma. He didn’t want to transform right now…
But Marinette didn’t seem to be calling for transformation. Instead, she stood in a battle-ready stance with her eyes glued to her computer screen as a video played on it. She appeared to be imitating the movements of the person on screen. Which made some amount of sense, but…
“You’re swinging a broom around,” he said, blinking the bleariness from his eyes.
Marinette paused the video and whirled around. “I’m practicing,” she said. “But I don’t exactly want Mom and Dad to come in here and wonder why Black Cat is in my room, practicing staff fighting, do I? So…makeshift staff.” She gestured with the broom.
Plagg yawned loudly. “Seems like a lot of effort so early in the morning. You’ve defeated all the Akumas so far, what’s the problem?”
“The problem,” Marinette said. “Is that I’m ineffective at staff fighting! So far, I’ve been able to fight the Akumas, but what if that’s not enough?”
“You worry too much,” Plagg said. “I had a Cat in the past that only used the staff to whack enemies on the top of the head. He never bothered to learn how to fight.”
“That’s not good enough for me,” she said firmly. “If we’re going to defeat Papillon, I have to be prepared for anything.”
“You’re such an overachiever.”
Marinette smiled. “Keep saying things like that and I might start thinking you’re proud of me,” she teased.
Plagg made a noncommittal noise and pretended to go back to sleep. The truth was, he was proud of her, and she knew it, even if he’d never say as much out loud. Marinette had come a long way in such a short period of time – from being terrified of the destructive power she wielded to being calculating, responsible, and effective with it. From only jumping into the fight when she felt there was no other choice to admonishing him when he suggested they could wait a bit. From rejecting the idea of being a superhero to embracing it, wholeheartedly.
Plagg did wish they could be a bit lazier sometimes, but it was a small price to pay for Marinette accepting that she could, and should be a superhero, and rising magnificently to that role.
Because, really, he would’ve been terribly disappointed if she’d given him up to someone else. There was no better place for a kwami to end up than a bakery, and Plagg was quite pleased with the selection of cheese, and cheese bread, and cheesecake, and all sorts of other delicious baked goods. He was definitely going to lord it over Tikki the next chance he got, even if she’d probably have just as regular access to the bakery by the time he got the chance.
And, oh, alright, he was rather fond of Marinette as a person, too. Even when she had been afraid of him and his power, she’d never been unkind towards him. And their relationship had only improved since then. Unlike most wielders he’d had, Marinette treated him as a friend rather than a tool or a servant. She absolutely spoiled him with food – though he would certainly never admit that, it was the squeaky cat that got the cheese, after all – and she went out of her way to make little things for him.
Within a day of having him around, even before she was comfortable with the whole superhero thing, she’d started making him a tiny bed. These days, it was starting to get worn through, but at the time, Plagg didn’t think he’d come across anything softer in all his long years of existence. She’d also made him a few tiny hats, though of course as a matter of pride he refused to wear them…
…while Marinette was looking, at any rate.
So, yes, Plagg was pleased with the situation. He still wasn’t always sure how to respond to Marinette’s affection, and he knew that confused her, but that was okay, she confused him sometimes too. Especially when she started detailing everything that could possibly go wrong and it somehow culminated in getting into a fistfight in Milan or eaten by a flying shark or whatever else it was.
“I think I need to take a class or something,” Marinette said, walking over and sitting down next to him. “There’s only so much I can learn from videos.”
Plagg let out an exaggerated yawn as he pretended to wake up and rolled over to face her. He hadn’t really been watching her practice, but honestly she was probably greatly underestimating her skill. She always did. Not that she’d ever believe Plagg if he told her that.
“So sign up for a class,” he said.
“I’d have to find one,” she said, scrolling through her phone. “But, do you think it would be okay? Would it be too suspicious if I suddenly had an interest in this? What if Alya or someone starts suspecting that I’m Black Cat…?”
“Nah,” Plagg said. “That’s not gonna happen. Probably loads of people signing up because they were inspired by Black Cat, no one’s gonna notice.”
“If you say so…” Marinette said, still sounding worried.
“If you’re really concerned about it, just go sign up for something different. Go hang out with your boyfriend at his fencing class or whatever.”
So Adrien wasn’t actually Marinette’s boyfriend, but Plagg saw no reason not to call him that. Marinette certainly didn’t have any objections to the sentiment.
“Fencing’s not really the same thing,” she said, frowning. “And I’d probably make a total fool of myself in front of Adrien. Or worse! I’d accidentally trip over something and poke his eyes out with the foil and then he’d have to go to the hospital and he’d hate me forever and his father would sue me and I’ll never be able to get a career in fashion because my name would be smeared all over the papers and…”
“And then you’d get kidnapped by space aliens and you’ll have much bigger problems to worry about,” Plagg interrupted, dryly.
Marinette pouted. “It could happen.”
“Yeah, and so could space aliens.”
“I’m revoking your TV privileges.”
Plagg gasped in mock offense. “You wouldn’t deprive a poor, innocent, underfed cat of his entertainment, would you?”
“Please, like you don’t get enough entertainment out of my life. I could feel you cackling the last time Alya and I…oh! That’s it! Alya!”
Plagg took the sudden switch in stride. In the early days, he’d been hopelessly lost with keeping up with how Marinette’s mind worked (he hadn’t wanted to say he was getting old, but…he was getting old). But by now he’d gotten used to it, and, well, he still couldn’t keep up but at least he was certain that the lazy way of waiting for things to make sense again generally worked out.
Marinette jumped up and paced excitedly back and forth across her room. “I’ve got it!” she said, jabbing at her phone. “Since Alya’s a super big fan of Black Cat, I’ll take her to this open session one of the places is having. If I go as a gift for her, it won’t be suspicious at all. Then, I can say after the session that I really liked it, and go back without any questions!”
“Will we have to get up early?” Plagg said, groaning.
“No, don’t worry about that, it’s an evening class,” she said. “This is good. I’ll be able to train, and maybe I’ll finally stop accidentally hitting Coccinelle in the head…”
“And get better at doing it on purpose,” Plagg joked.
“Don’t be mean,” she said, though she laughed. “Alright. I’m gonna text Alya and see if she’s up for this.”
“And after you do that,” he said. “I noticed that the snacks are running low. You should do something about that.”
Marinette looked up from her phone and smiled.
“You really need to control that appetite of yours,” she said good-naturedly. “I’ll go grab some from the kitchen, be right back.”
Plagg stayed behind as Marinette climbed down out of her room. He made a rough estimate of how long it would take her to bring back his cheese…
…and started looking for his favorite hat.