Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“People would expect it to be red, but I wanna branch out, you know?” Kim was sitting up, animatedly moving his hands in the air. “I don’t want to be predictable, you know? But I just can’t think of anything else to wear that won’t make me feel...stupid.”

“You’re athletic and handsome, Kim,” Marinette said as she looked through her colored pencils. “No one is going to think you look stupid.”

“Maybe...maybe purple?” Kim said hesitantly, looking at the trees around them. The park was full of life. Fall was just beginning and kids wanted to get as much time at the public park as they could before their parents started saying that it would be too cold to play outside.

“Because it’s Max’s favorite color?” Marinette teased. Kim didn’t respond, and Marinette pursed her lips. “I don’t know. I think something more bold. Not an entire rainbow like last year, but something...striking.”

“I love striking. It distracts the other runners and gives me extra self-confidence.”

Marinette hummed in response and Kim leaned back, his hands behind his head as he lay on their shared picnic blanket. He knew better than to talk to Marinette at the moment. She was busy imagining all sorts of patterns and colors and fits for his outfit. She made him a new one every year at the beginning of track season. This was just a special occasion since track season had ended and he just wanted a new suit.

“Alright,” Marinette nodded to herself. “I got it. I’ll have it ready for you in less than two weeks, I promise.”

“No rush,” Kim assured her. “It’s just a favor. And I’ll pay you the usual amount.”

Marinette smiled, “Thanks.” They both packed up their picnic and headed for the entrance of the park, where they split up to go home. As she walked through the streets of her hometown, Paris, Marinette looked at the scenery. A few years ago, everything was beautiful. There were flowers on trellises hung outside of peoples windows, trees lining the streets, and cars trying to honk each other off the road. Families walked around in complete ease, and business was booming. Or, doing well enough. But that was years ago, things were different now; nothing had been the same since the first Makara attack.

No one knew exactly what they were, where they came from, or what they wanted. No one had heard one talk, or indicate any specific desire. Everyone, however, had seen what they did. Everyone lived it. Usually the damage was limited to two or three block of Paris, mostly where the Arc de Triomphe stood. Had stood. It had been a few months since the historic landmark had been destroyed by a Makara. That’s all they did. The Makara showed up, and then they started their path of destruction. If the people in the vicinity of the Makara were lucky, no one would be killed. But it had happened before. And though the police did their best to protect the people from the giant beasts, the only things which seemed to be effective against the Makara were the second scourge of the city. The Akuma.

The Akuma were less mysterious. Witnesses claimed that it just took one trigger, one wrong word, one bad day, and suddenly a person transformed into an Akuma. Marinette knew this wasn’t true. Her longtime friend Alix had been Akumatized. Alix was never one to get angry, and never let the events of the day get to her. There must be something else which triggered the transformation. And there must be something to trigger them to revert back to normal.

So far, every single Makara had been destroyed through the joint effort of an Akuma and the police. And so far, every single Akuma had then broken through their supposed sentience and gone berserk. They now all sat silent and sedated in a hospital too far from Marinette’s house for it to be practical to visit Alix. Scientists from all over the world had come to see the Akuma. No one could explain what happened--they couldn’t explain the red glow around their eyes, the hair spurting out of their bodies, the wings they were suddenly able to use, and no one could explain the power each Akuma had.

There were dozens of Akuma laying in the hospital, and not one of them had a duplicate power. They were all unique from each other, and yet so frustratingly similar. If one Akuma was cured, so would the rest. But no one could figure out what was wrong, so no one could come up with a cure.

Marinette’s heart thudded uncomfortably against her chest as she heard the silence of the street around her. The roads were too dangerous to drive in nowadays, so people either walked or rode a bike. No one bothered to plant flowers or upkeep their gardens because in a few weeks, or a month at best, it would be destroyed again. There were certain times of the month where people refused to leave the underground bunkers the City had built all around Paris, because it was almost time for another Makara attack.

The constant fear had drained some of the life out of Marinette’s friends, but Marinette found herself more determined than ever to succeed, to live the same life she had dreamed for herself since she was ten. She was going to be a fashion designer--just as talented as her aunt, but as famous as Gabriel Agreste. She was going to have a loving family, a hamster, a dog, and she was going to help her mom’s side of the family with anything they needed. She was going to succeed, and nothing was going to stop her.

She bumped into someone small and frail.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, helping the old man to his feet. Then the smell hit her. She looked to her right. It was a bar, nearly empty because it was two in the afternoon, but there were still a few patrons inside. The old man in front of her had been one of those patrons a few moments ago.

“No problem,” The old man slurred, “Here, for your trouble,” He began to fumble with his jacket, and Marinette let go of his arm immediately.

“No thanks,” She said, walking away. She heard the old man grunt and hit the concrete. She sighed and turned around to help him to his feet again. He pressed a small box into her hands.

“No take-backs,” he smiled, and Marinette felt an odd sensation up her arms and along her back. She looked around. Everything seemed normal. She just couldn't shake the feeling that something was...different now.

“Look, I’ll take your stupid box. Do you know where you live?”

“Why don’t you wear them?” The old man staggered and Marinette held her hands out in case he fell again. Sure, he was piss drunk, but he also seemed to be at least one hundred years old, and she would be damned if he died in front of her.

“Wear what?”

“The earrings I gave you,”

“You are the creepiest old man I’ve ever met! Do you know where you live or not?” The old man pulled out his wallet.

“I can’t read it.”

“This is such a pain,” Marinette grumbled as she called a cab for Fu Peizhi.

“Would you please put them on?”

“No, I have no idea who wore them before, or where you got them, or what they’re made out of,” Marinette snapped, holding a hand out to keep the old man from coming too close to her. “Now stop talking to me and take your wallet back.”

“Only if you put the earrings on. I’ve had them in my family for six generations. We’ve all been male, no one has gotten to wear them yet,”

“Oh yeah?” Marinette raised an eyebrow, calling the old man’s story for the bull shit it was. “Then why didn’t a wife wear them? And if they’ve been in your family for so long, why give them to a stranger?” The old man slumped against the wall and started crying.

“She won’t look,” he kept sniffling. “She won’t even look at them,”

“No, no don’t cry,” She looked around, suddenly feeling terrible. He might be drunk and a tad creepy, but at the end of the day he was an old man crying outside of a bar at two in the afternoon and he seemingly had no one else in his life to bother but a complete stranger. She felt bad for the guy. “Look, I’ll put them on, stop crying.”

The man sniffled, “I don’t believe you.” She opened the box. They were just a pair of black studs. Some might call them completely harmless. Marinette called them ugly. Still, she wanted the guy to stop crying. She took out the hoops she was wearing and put in the studs.

“See? I told you I’d wear them!” Then the man’s bike pulled up.

“You called for a cab?” Asked the man riding the bike. Marinette helped the old man into the seat the man pulled behind him, telling the cabbie the address from Fu Peizhi’s ID. The man nodded and stood in his seat, using his weight as leverage to start the bike--now the only cabs available in Paris.

Marinette continued on her way home. She almost took the earrings out, but decided to take them out inside. She fully intended on returning them to Fu, and she didn’t want to lose any piece of the heirloom studs.

“Welcome back,” Sabine smiled from the cash register in the family-run bakery.

“Hi, mom,” Marinette greeted her mom with a kiss on the cheek. “Do you need any help?”

“Oh, no, go and work on Kim’s suit. We’re doing just fine here.” From behind Sabine, a clatter of pans fell on the floor, and Marinette’s dad started to swear in Italian. Sabine smiled, “Just fine.”

Marinette didn’t question it and headed up to her room. She would need to go to a fabric store later to get the material for the track suit, but she could always make the pattern, first.

“Hi!” A voice called by Marinette’s ear. She jerked back with a small shriek. There was too much commotion in the kitchen for Sabine to ask after Marinette. Marinette was glad for that, because she wasn’t exactly sure she was alright. “I hear your name is Marinette! I’m--ooh! Is this the newest issue of Grazia? I love Grazia!”

Marinette watched in silence as the pink blob flew across her room, to her bed, and sat with the magazine, rambling about what she liked and didn’t like about each of the designs she saw. Then the creature looked up and gasped. Again, it flew across the room, to Marinette’s wall. “These are amazing! I love the ruching here, and the color scheme on this one the most! Oh, but I’d prefer if the jumpsuit had a bit more give. An outfit needs a bit of balance--some tight, some loose.”

“Hey, that might be true in some circumstances, but the point of that jumpsuit is the silhouette, and if I add even the slightest give to any part of it, the silhouette is ruined!” Marinette snapped at the creature before she’d even realized what she was going to say.

“But the silhouette here is nothing special,” The creature said thoughtfully, looking at the design again. Indignation rose up in Marinette.

“Are you blind? It’s a classic shape! It’s clean, chic, and ageless. And, the color and fabric more than make up for the simplicity.” The creature hummed and then shrugged.

“If you say so.” Then it zoomed to the next design. Marinette shook her head as it started to talk again.

“What am I doing?” She questioned herself. “I’m going insane.”

“You’re not going insane,” the creature assured her. “I’m really here. See?” It pinched her, and Marinette had to sit down. “I’m a kwami. I’m magic. And I love your designs--even the ones I don’t really like. I’m so glad you’re my partner!”

“What is--”

The funny thing about normality is that it could change in an instant. Even from her room on the second floor of the bakery, Marinette could feel the ground trembling and the air becoming heavy with humidity. A siren blasted through the streets, and Marinette ran for the door, to get her and her parents to the safety of the underground bunker.

“Wait!” The creature behind her said. “I need to tell you something!”

Marinette grabbed it out of the air and fled downstairs. Her parents were on the way to the door and held it open for her. Outside, the street was filled with people, all rushing for the nearest bunker. There was only so much space, and having to go to the next one might cost someone their life.

Sabine grabbed Marinette’s arm and pulled her out of the bakery, into the torrent of people. The creature was vibrating, but Marinette couldn’t hear what it was trying to say, nor did she care. She just needed to get to safety. Tom Dupain was in front of Sabine and Marinette, doing his best to clear a path for the two, but his daughter and wife were still crowded and pushed at on either side. The family rushed through the streets as fast as the panicking crowd would allow.

Then a frantic father with a young child in his arms barged through Sabine and Marinette, ramming into Tom before he could stop himself. In an instant, the sea of people pushed themselves between Marinette and Sabine, and Marinette was all alone, unable to move in the jam packed street.

The creature finally made its way out of Marinette’s clenched fist.

“I’m a kwami,” it said as cheerfully and easily as it did in Marinette’s room. “I’m magic. And now you, my partner, are, too!”

Marinette didn’t pay too much attention to her hallucination. It’s small voice spoke in her ear again, surprisingly clear amidst all the chaos Marinette was wading through.

“All you have to do is say, ‘spots on’!”

“Yeah, right,” Marinette mumbled, almost biting her own tongue off after a particularly hard shove. “Spots on, my ass.”

But the words had been spoken. An instant later, a flash of red lit up the area where the girl had once been. People were too panicked about the Makara to pay any attention to the light. But they should have, because if they had, they would have seen the first transformation of Ladybug.

Marinette screamed.

Calm down, the creature’s cheery voice sounded from someone inside of Marinette’s own mind. You’re safe. In fact, you’re probably safer than anyone else on the street! The suit is covered in a layer of magic--our magic. It’s not invulnerable, but it’s not easy to get hurt while you’re transformed, either.

Marinette’s mind swam. She was no longer being pushed along by the crowd. She could still feel the bumps of the people, but it didn’t affect her anymore than a gentle breeze.

That’s just another perk of our partnership! When you’re transformed, you’re super strong.

Marinette wanted to rip her hair out. She was going insane. She was hallucinating and hearing things and all the stress from the Akuma and Makara finally made her go insane.

Wrong again! The cheery voice piped up. You’re not insane. You’re just insanely awesome! Look, you see that yo-yo in your right hand? You’ll never be able to believe the stuff you can do with it.

But Marinette no longer paid the voice any attention. The crowds were scattering, the streets were splitting, and Marinette’s knees were about to fail her. Coming towards her, was a Makara. Unlike the Akuma, the Makara were only vaguely similar to each other. Each of them had a slightly fish-like quality. Some were more piscatory than others, but they all smelled exactly the same. Horrendous. Like day-old fish which was left out of the fridge overnight. Marinette gagged. The Makara was large and gray. It had round eyes on either side of its circular head, a swan-like neck, an oval body with a tail like a lizard, and two legs like an ostrich. Somewhere behind the Makara would be the police. Since there were no more cars in use, the police relied on horses to get around. Unfortunately, not all the police were great horsemen, so it sometimes took entirely too long for them to arrive and be useful.

The voice urged Marinette to move, assured her that she wouldn’t be hurt, that she was meant to do something. But she couldn’t. Marinette couldn’t move. The creature was as tall as her house--maybe even taller. With every step it destroyed more of Paris, more of her home, more of her future. Her fear began to melt away and anger soon overtook it. The Makara moved slowly, with no real purpose. It didn’t have a goal in mind. It just existed to cause havoc. And Marinette was tired of simply accepting that fact.

She listened to the voice in her head, grabbed the yo-yo, and swung it towards the Makara. She rolled as she landed on top of it, her yo-yo the only tether to the slimy beast. Up close the smell was overwhelming, and she was ready to hurl any food she’d had that day.

The creature reminded her to focus, and advised her to simply incapacitate the monster. She couldn’t defeat it alone--they had to wait for their partner.

Marinette wasn’t sure what that meant, and she wasn’t about to sit down and wait for anyone--not when she’d mustered up all of her courage to swing that yo-yo. Marinette held onto the string of the surprisingly strong yo-yo with all of her might as she scaled down the Makara’s face and punched it right in the eye. The Makara opened its mouth as if to screech, but no noise came out. It stopped moving, and Marinette immediately disengaged the yo-yo. Her feet slid on the slime coming from the Makara’s body, and soon she was falling through the air.

Fear once again gripped her, and she was unable to move. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart leapt up to her mouth. This was it. She was going to die.The creature simply laughed inside of her mind and assured her that she would be fine. It encouraged her to turn around, to tie the Makara’s legs together, to see what happened next.

(What happened next would be in the news for days, would create a buzz in the community of Paris, would inspire countless blogs and fan communities, and would guarantee the woman in the ladybug suit fame for however long she donned the suit.)

Marinette found it surprisingly easy to use the yo-yo. A few seconds and the string was looped around the Makara’s legs. It crashed to the ground, and the street was destroyed, but it wasn’t moving anymore, and nothing else would be harmed. Marinette could hear the police approaching, and she turned to leave, afraid that they would recognize her, would ask her questions, would talk to her parents. That’s when the Akuma appeared.

It was as average as an Akuma could be. The human features were hidden by a strange red glow around the eyes, its skin was covered with fur, and wings sprouted out of its back. Anything it pointed at turned to solid ice. Marinette almost got her yo-yo ready, almost prepared to run for her life; but instincts took over. Her uncle Delun’s voice echoed through her mind: If there’s a choice of fight or flight, a Cheng always chooses to fight. So that’s exactly what she did.

All the training she’d received since she was a little girl was ingrained in her body as much as in her mind. When the Akuma came towards her, she rushed forward and faked a left punch before kicking its legs out from underneath it. She held its hands in her own, and forced them behind the Akuma’s back. The police arrived now, performing the procedure they found worked best with the Makara: shooting at it until it disappeared in a cloud of cold vapor. The shots rang in the background as Marinette struggled with the Akuma, determined not to turn into an ice statue. One particularly rough shove had the Akuma’s finger touch the Akuma’s necklace. It had been ugly, so Marinette wasn’t too sad when the ice jewelry crunched underneath the Akuma’s weight. A white moth lazily flew from underneath the Akuma. Marinette wouldn’t have noticed it if it hadn’t been for the sudden yell of the tiny pink creature.

That’s it, that’s it! Grab your yo-yo and purify it or it’ll be too late! The creature’s shriek was so sudden that Marinette followed its orders without question. Almost as if she was a puppet, Marinette swung the yo-yo and caught the moth in the yo-yo’s circle. Then Marinette reeled the yo-yo back towards herself and released the insect.

The Akuma at Marinette’s feet froze over, then instantly melted, leaving behind a person. Marinette had no idea who she was, but one moment she had been an Akuma, and the next she was a living, breathing person. Marinette’s hope rose, and she ran towards the police who had finally finished taking care of the Makara. The vapor in the air made Marinette shiver, but she didn’t care.

“Officer!” she called. “Take me to the Akuma, all of the Akuma in the hospital. I can cure them.”

The news later that evening spoke of the girl. The Parisians had named her Ladybug (never let it be said that the Parisians were the most creative of people, en masse). The news showed footage of the young girl single-handedly holding off a Makara. More impressively, they showed her de-evilizing the Ice Akuma, as well as some previously restrained Akuma in the hospital. The news showed footage of the people returning to their families, their homes, their lives. Marinette watched the footage on repeat until she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. She had been powerless before--forced to accept whatever protection the police could provide. No longer. Now, she was Ladybug. A superhero with the lamest name and tackiest outfit she had ever seen, but she was powerful, and she could change the outcome of the future of Paris.

Chapter Text

The noise and light of the TV pulled Fu Peizhi from his nap. That’s all his life was, now. A series of drinks and bags of popcorn between his naps. He didn’t mind it. It sure beat working and caring about whatever idiots came begging him for a Miraculous. Nope, he had given that life up years ago. Sure, that meant a few of the Miraculous were stolen and he wasn’t sure exactly where they were, but who cared? It’s not like any of the truly important--

“Master,” Wayzz said, worried.

Peizhi groaned. He should never have listened to the floating turtle. It’s an honor, it had said, It’s a position of prestige which not just anyone can handle. Peizhi snorted. He had listened to the turtle, had taken up the job as ‘Guardian of the Miraculous.’ Look at him now. 300 years old, living by himself in a crappy apartment on the bad side of Paris, and life didn’t seem like it was going to get better any time soon.

“Master!” The kwami sure was persistent. And annoying. Peizhi couldn’t imagine how he had lived with the thing for so long. “Why did you give the girl the Ladybug? You said you didn’t want to look out for any more of the Inner Circle Miraculous anymore!”

Peizhi’s eyes snapped open, thankful that Wayzz no longer insisted on turning the lights on at the crack of dawn. “Wayzz,” he said softly. “I’m sure I misheard you. It’s impossible that the ladybug Miraculous is anywhere but in my pocket. Impossible.”

“Master, you went to Four Dragons yesterday and drunk so much that a young girl had to help you from falling on your face! You insisted she take the Miraculous, and you’ve been asleep ever since! She even fought off a Makura and Akuma!”

“Wayzz, this is not funny,”

“Master, you know better than anyone that I have no sense of humor, especially about matter this serious!”

Peizhi sighed. The turtle was right about that. Which meant everything Wayzz had just said was 100% the truth. In other words, it was time for the Black Cat to appear in the world once again. He rubbed his face with his hands and groaned as he pushed himself off the couch.

“There was quite a bit of damage yesterday,” Wayzz fretted. “Are you positive you will not transform and restore everything to the way it was?”

“No,” Peizhi grumbled. “I told you. I am never transforming again.”

Wayzz said no more, and instead continued to fret about the room. He mumbled endlessly of the possible repercussions, of how Peizhi should have done this and that and whatnot. Peizhi’s head throbbed, so he detoured towards the kitchen and made himself a coffee. Strong, black, no sugar. He took a sip and sighed.

Wayzz floated about, handing him all the pieces of clothing he needed for the day, his toothbrush, deodorant, and shoes. Peizhi did all the necessary movements for getting ready. Then he grabbed the box for the Black Cat Miraculous and strode out the door. Wayzz sat in his coat pocket, silent and unmoving, but Peizhi could still feel his anxiety. He rolled his eyes but ignored it for the most part.

The old man strolled about Paris, keeping one hand on the Black Cat’s box. Usually the Black Cat was given a partner first, and then the Ladybug would be chosen based off of who would best compliment the feline. Peizhi didn’t think switching the order would be too much of a problem. Either way, the second partner was chosen by the kwami. The kwami could sense the waves from a person, and could instinctually tell which people would harmonize with themselves. In the case of the Ladybug and the Black Cat, however, the kwami would also need to find a person who would be able to work well with the other Miraculous holder. Peizhi didn’t think about it too hard. It was on the kwami, not him. He simply had to walk, to show the kwami the options.

Peizi wandered into a park. He carefully picked his way over the shattered pathways and fallen trees, craving a warm bed and a dark room.

The Miraculous box warmed in his jacket, and Peizhi snapped to attention. To the right was a photo shoot. To the left was emptiness. It seemed the Black Cat’s holder would be in the fashion industry this time around. Peizhi focused his energy, and slowly the waves came into his view. From the box in his pocket came a flurry of bumps, like you would see on a heart monitor in a hospital. These waves were the resonance patterns coming from the kwami’s magic. The waves coming from the people came from their souls since they had no magic of their own. The kwami, however, had found a soul which was compatible with his magic, and could harmonize with the ladybug. Peizhi blinked his eyes and concentrated harder. There were so many people, they were so far away, and Peizhi had forgotten his glasses at home.

He stared for a while longer, deciphering the different waves, tracing the correct wave back to the person the Black Cat would bond with--a model. He was tall and blonde and smiled as sweetly and brightly as the sun. It was certainly a strange choice for the Black Cat but Peizhi could not bring himself to care enough to question the kwami about the choice.

“You there, young man?” Being an old man helped Peizhi a lot. He could get away with ruining the photo shoot because the youth were so afraid of being rude to their elders.

The model turned to him and smiled. The guards at the border of the photo shoot walked in front of him and Peizhi stepped back, looking alarmed.

“Oh dear, am I bothering you? I am so sorry, but I just wanted to say I love your work.”

The blonde man--boy, he realized--stepped forward and shooed the bodyguards away.

“Sorry about them,” the boy apologized. “They don’t mean to be rude. Did you come here for an autograph?”

Peizhi shook his head. “No, I had a gift for you--a ring. I do hope you can wear it in your photo shoot.”

The young man opened the box and his eyebrows raised. Peizhi internally sighed. He knew the ring wasn’t very pretty, but he wasn’t the one who designed it or made it, so he was not to be blamed. He was about to spew some story of the ring having some sort of familial meaning to it, but the boy surprised him.

“It’s a really neat ring,” the boy smiled. He took it out of the box and stuck it on his finger. He pursed his lips then moved it to his thumb. “I’ll try my best to get it in the shoot. Did you want it back if that doesn’t work out?”

“Oh, no,” Peizhi waved off the question. “Please, take it as a gift from an old man with no other family to give it to.”

Ha. The boy could never throw it away now, not after hearing that.

The photographer called the model back, and Peizhi said his farewell to the boy. He hummed on his way home. Crisis averted. The Ladybug and Black Cat were in circulation together. He could go back and nap as a reward. 

Adrien made his way back to the set, trying not to irritate the photographer more than he already had. The old man had seemed friendly and harmless, which is why Adrien had sent the guards away. But as he had gotten closer to the man, Adrien had smelled the alcohol on him and wondered if he was drunk, or just buzzed. It didn’t really matter. Adrien had done his job. He had smiled, been polite, and accepted the ugly ring the man had given him.

The photographer spotted it and ordered it off his model, and Adrien resumed posing for the newest line of Agreste wear. He glanced back at the ring in his bodyguard’s hands. It sure was an ugly ring. It was gunmetal gray, but mottled and dull, like it was made of cheap material. All around the ring were pawprints. The left paws were black and the right paws were green. It was a tacky design, and it wouldn’t go with most of the outfits Gabriel Agreste designed. That guaranteed Adrien would wear it. If his outfit wasn’t perfect enough for the Gabriel Agreste brand, then possibly, his father might talk to him in the morning, if only to get him to take the ring off.

Adrien shifted his pose slightly and the photographer shouted words of encouragement. Adrien paid about as much attention to the photographer as Gabriel paid to Adrien--that is to say, none at all. Adrien couldn’t help the stab of pain in his chest as he thought of why this was happening. His father had been, once upon a time, a very doting parent. He had been to every single one of his piano recitals, fencing matches, and modeling shoots. He had personally overlooked his grades, and had taken Adrien fishing every chance he got. Gabriel Agrests had once been a very present parent and then Emelie Agreste disappeared. No one seemed to know where she went, or how, but she was gone, and so was his father.

The same week that Adrien’s mother went missing, the Makara and Akuma attacks started, and from there life had only gotten harder. Adrien couldn’t move an inch in his house without Natalie watching him, and couldn’t so much as tie his shoes without his bodyguards reporting the movement to Natalie. Some might have been mistaken and thought the bodyguards would report to Gabriel himself. No. Gabriel had no time to personally oversee something as trivial as Adrien’s safety.

His own thoughts irritated Adrien. On the one hand, he didn’t want a bodyguard at all. He was seventeen years old and had lived in Paris his entire life. He didn’t need a buff babysitter. On the other hand, as long as he had one, couldn’t his father be the one who heard the reports at the end of the day? Couldn’t his father pay the bodyguards? Couldn’t his father be the one who got upset if he came home past his 4 pm curfew? (As depressing as it sounds, this is no joke. Adrien’s assistant had been the one to set this curfew, and his father didn’t so much as laugh as how ridiculous it sounded because he didn’t so much as listen when Natalie brought it up).

Adrien sighed as the shoot finished up and he was allowed to stretch and change into his own clothes. Simple designer jeans with no stains, no rips, and no wear. A simple designer shirt with the official label on the back. Simple and clean designer shoes which were cleaned every night. The ugliest ring a person could find outside of Claire's on his thumb. Adrien wore the ring proudly and just hoped it wouldn’t turn his thumb green by tomorrow morning.

The rest of his day went on as usual. He was driven home. He commented on the weather and his bodyguard didn’t so much as grunt in response. Once inside his mansion, Adrien was greeted by his father’s personal assistant, Natalie. Her job was to take care of things which were important enough to be given attention, but not important enough for his father to look at; Natalie was increasingly becoming more present in Adrien’s life than Gabriel Agreste himself.

“How was the photo shoot?” She asked, not looking up from the email she was composing on her tablet.

“I got a gift from a fan.”

She hummed and absently told him that was nice, and that next time she would make sure there were more snacks for him. Adrien has already started towards the living room. A tutor sat, silent as ever. For the next two hours, she oversaw his studies in math and science. She spoke only when he seemed to be having a problem with a concept. She didn’t even ask how he was, or how his day had been. Exactly two hours later, on the dot, she got up and left. A man passed her in the doorway and Adrien was drilled in Chinese for an hour. After Chinese he was handed over to his history and French literature tutor. Two hours later he was escorted to his room by Natalie, who was to listen to him as he practiced La Campanella by Liszt. She sat and slowly filed paperwork as Adrien stumbled through the first three bars of the piece. He hadn’t improved much and he had been working on La Campanella for two weeks already. Natalie didn’t complain; Natalie didn’t notice. Neither did his father.

If it had been a Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, or Saturday, Adrien would have been packing for fencing at this moment. Instead, Natalie walked him to his room and bid him a good afternoon and said his dinner would be served by 6:30. He didn’t bother asking if his father would be there. He had given up on that question months ago. The answer never changed.

His room was silent and huge. There was a rock-climbing wall, a widescreen TV, more books than he had ever wanted, a miniature gym, every gaming relevant gaming console on the market, as well as any games he could want to play on any of them. In the corner, dusty and unused was a foosball table. His father had once played with him every night before bed. No one had touched that table in almost two years.

Adrien sighed and shrugged off his shirt, heading to the bathroom. He couldn’t sleep yet and he didn’t want to read anymore after the hours of tutoring he had. He could always play video games, but the thought of the loud sound effects and voices in such a quiet house made him uneasy, and he was feeling much too lazy for weights. All he could think to do in his boredom and silent house was shower, or possibly soak in the jacuzzi. He felt bad that he was wasting as much water as he was, but at least he never smelled bad, and no one had yet told him to stop.

He was feeling fruity. He picked out an orange scented body wash and lotion, his unscented facial cleanser, and stepped into the shower, ready to wash away the next forty minutes or so. He didn’t have much to do in there; his hair wasn’t very long and he didn’t shave, so mostly he just scrubbed himself over and over again. His shower ended when his skin was too sensitive for the loofa anymore.

He stepped out of the bathroom, smelling fresh and feeling lost. What was he to do now?

“Good, you’re finally out,” A voice grumbled from his mini-fridge. Adrien froze. He didn’t know that voice, and no one in the household spoke to him like that. “I’m starving, and there’s nothing in here but energy drinks and yogurt.”

His fridge was open, but there was no one crouching in front of it. Adrien looked around the room.

“Don’t act like you can’t see me,”

“I...can’t see you? Excuse me, but who is in my room right now?”

A small black cat stepped away from the open door of his fridge and closed it behind itself. It rubbed its face with its paw and yawned. Then it opened its mouth again and spoke:

“I am. My name is Plagg. I am a kwami. Please don’t make me repeat myself.”

Adrien stared at the cat. It was cute: black hair, green eyes, and incredibly small with a large-ish head. He blinked. The cat blinked back. Adrien blinked again. It was still there.

“I guess...sure, I’ll bite. What’s a kwami?”

“I’m so glad you asked,” it said and strutted about the room. Adrien watched in fascination. “I’m a magical creature embodying destruction, and I’ve recently been put back into circulation because the idiot gave some girl the Ladybug while he was drunk. We can’t be in circulation without each other because our magic is linked through stuff which would blow apart your puny human mind. You and I are now partners because our wavelengths are compatible with--”

“Mhm,” Adrien hummed. He stepped forward, grabbed the cat and stared it in the eyes. “You’re so cute,” He mumbled and started petting the thing on its head. Plagg fought it, but Adrien was bigger.

“Stop that!” Plagg yowled. “I’m trying to tell you something important!” Adrien would have stopped, but Plagg started purring, and there was no way Adrien would do anything to stop that.

“I did hear stuff coming out of your mouth,” Adrien admitted. “But it got a little complicated and I realized I didn’t really care. You’re in my room and you’re adorable. I’ve never had a pet before. What should I feed you?”

“I like cheese, the stinkier and moldier the better. And I’m not a pet! I’m a kwami!” The cat was purring so loudly through all of its words it was almost difficult to make out what it was saying.

“Cheese, huh? Why?”

“It's the most chaotic of foods! The older and stinkier it is, the better the quality of the cheese.”

“You know, I’ve heard that cats are lactose intolerant. What about twinkies--they’re plenty chaotic.”

“I’m not a cat!”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Adrien smiled, gently petting Plagg all over his head, chest, and back. The kwami pushed into Adrien’s hand wherever it went, and the black cat almost rolled over in content. “It’s 6:30, time for dinner. Come on.”

Plagg followed Adrien out his door. No one was in the hallway. No one was on the stairs. No one was in any of the rooms Adrien and Plagg passed. No one seemed to occupy the entire mansion. Adrien was used to the silence. Plagg was not. The kwami moved closer to Adrien. It was almost relieved when it heard the sharp clack clack of heels on the tiled floor.

“You were running late,” Natalie said in an almost apologetic tone as she met him in front of the dining room. “I was just going to check on you.”

“It’s no problem,” Adrien said, brushing past her. She spotted the creature at his feet and inhaled sharply. Adrien turned to see what the problem was. She pointed down with her stylus.

“What is that?”

Adrien looked down, then paused for a moment before answering. “I got a dog.”

Natalie pursed her lips together. There was silence between them for a moment, then she said, “I’ll order food for you right away. Any preferences on what we buy for it?”

“Cheese. Blue cheese, camembert, epoisses. The stinkier the better.”

“Dogs don’t eat cheese,” Natalie said. Adrien shrugged.

“This one does. It told me so.” Natalie rolled her eyes, but before she could ask anymore questions, Adrien stepped past her and requested that she have the cheeses stocked in the fridge in his room as soon as possible. He thanked her then sat at the dining room table. No one else was in the room. Plagg jumped up into Adrien’s lap.

“I’m not a dog!”

“Well you said you weren’t a cat, and I only know so many animals.” Adrien grinned as Plagg grumbled.

“Do you eat asparagus?” Adrien asked, holding the vegetable in front of Plagg enticingly. It thought for a moment.

“It’s not nearly as chaotic of a food as I’d prefer, but it’ll do.” Adrien couldn’t help but pet the creature as they ate. For once, dinner was pleasant. Plagg kept trying to tell Adrien the details of its existence, its purpose, and their partnership, but Adrien was not interested in the slightest. He cared more about the fact that he finally had someone to talk to--it didn’t matter that it was a talking animal.

Once back in Adrien’s room, Plagg ran to the couch and flopped down on it. Adrien sat next to him and attempted to pick him up.

“No! Listen to me,” it said. Adrien sat back and sighed.

“I can’t listen when you’re so fuzzy and soft and not in my arms for me to hold.”

Plagg jumped into Adrien’s waiting arms. “There, better?”

“Yes, now what did you want to say?”

“It seems like you have a short attention span, so I’ll keep this brief: Ladybug is in circulation. That means that the ladybug kwami has a partner, like I have you. She’s decided to become a superhero, and since we’re linked, we have to help her.”

“Almost none of what you say seems like something I want to do,” Adrien rubbed the kwami’s back, and Plagg huffed.

“Claws out.”

“Claws out?”

A shadow surrounded the young model, and the scream froze in his throat. The all-consuming black stayed around him, blocking his view. It only lasted for a second, and then it was gone. He looked down, and yelped.

He was suddenly in a suit--an ugly suit. It was skin-tight and made of a material which looked like leather, but didn’t feel like leather. This meant only one thing: faux-leather. Around his waist was a chunky belt, filled pockets all around. The concept was uncomfortably close to a mix of a fanny pack and Bob the Builder’s tool belt. His hands were covered in gloves--thick, rubbery gloves with spikes down the sides. Hideous. He ran to the nearest mirror. His face was covered in a tacky mask which in no way would have hidden his identity if his eyes had not turned completely neon green, and his hair had not grown shaggier and changed color to a deep obsidian. His gaze traveled down, almost dreading what would be on his feet. His boots were fine. Adrien was conflicted on how he felt about this. While a good pair of shoes was necessary to complete an outfit, a good pair of shoes did not save an outfit.

“What did you do to me?” He asked, horrified. He turned around, ready to shake Plagg until he gave him back his regular clothes. The couch was empty. His eyes widened. “It was a demon. A fashion demon.”

I’m not a demon, Plagg’s voice sounded from somewhere inside his head. Oh god, Adrien was haunted. I’m not a demon, I just told you--I can’t haunt anything!

Adrien paced his room. This wasn’t happening. It simply wasn’t happening. This was all a dream--a nightmare. He would never be caught dead in this. A thought entered his mind and his head snapped towards his door. He would never be able to live again if Natalie or anyone else barged into his room. Granted, no one had barged into his room for more than a year, but there was always a possibility.

Listen to me! Plagg’s voice, once cute and adorable, now sent a shiver of fear down Adrien’s spine. Was the outfit punishment for not listening to him earlier? Uhh, yes. I’ll do much worse if you ignore me again--I’ll give you cat ears and a tail, too. Adrien’s heart thudded in his chest. He. Would. Die.

“I’ll do whatever you want,” He promised.

Go to your window. We’re going out for a bit.

Adrien didn’t question the kwami, didn’t say anything to potentially anger the fashion demon any further. Plagg led him through the city, showed him how to use his staff in various ways, taught him how to not fear falls from on top of buildings. Adrien drank up the freedom. Natalie would never have allowed him such fun. Neither would his father.

Now swing left and enter the building.

“How?”

The ends of the gloves are sharp--the claws aren’t just there for fun, you know. Just cut the glass.

“What about alarms?”

I’ll take care of them. I’m made of magic, remember?

Once he crawled inside the dark room, he flipped the light switch. Then he noticed who the patients were and froze. “We’re in the Akuma sector of Trousseau Hospital. The forbidden sector of the hospital."

I need to show you why we need to join Ladybug. Repeat after me…

“Cataclysm.” A chill ran down his right arm, stopping at his fingertips. There was nothing much different about his fingertips, except the edges were blurred, as if Adrien were looking at the glove with his father’s glasses on. The colors around him faded, and Adrien blinked, assuming he’d just kept his eyes open for too long.

Now we have to be careful. Find a jar, hold it in your left hand. This is the tricky part. Each Akuma has a weak spot. It’s our job to find it and destroy it with our cataclysm. Be careful, though. There’s people underneath, and if we hit the wrong spot, they’ll die.

Adrien’s hand shook as Plagg convinced him to look over the Akuma. Just like the rest of the room, it was slightly blurry, and a dark gray. Except for one bright spot.

You’ve found it, Plagg said. Make sure you don’t touch anything else.

It was nerve-wracking, and Adrien felt stupid. At least, if someone caught him, they wouldn’t know it was Adrien Agreste close to killing someone. They would just see a dweeb in a leather suit stealing from an Akuma. Yeah, that was much better.

The Akuma whose belt he had just destroyed stayed just as still as ever, but a white butterfly flew from the destroyed strip of faux-leather. Adrien grabbed a jar and trapped the bug inside of it, as per Plagg’s directions.

“Now what?”

Now it’s up to our partner to come and purify it. That’s how we free the people from the Akuma.

“So let’s do more! We’re right here, we can’t stop now!”

You’re still too new at this, you can only use cataclysm once per transformation, and then we change back. There’s a time limit--we have to get you back to your house in the next ten minutes. See your ring? There’s five sections of the paw. When all of them disappear, you’ll be forced to transform back.

Adrien nodded, and started looking around the room.

Did you hear what I said? You have to leave, or you’ll be caught. No one can know who you are!

“One minute,” Adrien said. “I’ve just got to find...aha!” Adrien fell silent for a minute, and then straightened. “Alright, let’s go home.

The next day, Ladybug and a team of firefighters once again entered the Akuma sector of the hospital. They had been coming everyday, trying to guess what object was to be destroyed, and then using all sorts of brute force to try and break that object. It had proven to be near impossible, and the last object (a wooden toy car) had taken nearly three days to crack. So, it was understandable when, as they entered the room, they found a jar with an Akuma already fluttering inside. Next to the jar was a note.

I’ll be back tomorrow to free more Akuma. See you in the next battle, partner.
-Cat Noir

Chapter Text

“What's the worst that could happen?” Plagg asked, half listening to Adrien as he used his tiny paws to change the channel on the TV. “Worst he can do is say no.”

“No,” Adrien applied cologne and changed his shoes for the third time that morning. “The worst he could do is tell Natalie to say no.” He stood in front of his floor-length mirror and checked his outfit again, deciding if these were the right shoes to go with his light blue shirt and dark jeans. He had tried on orange sneakers, but they clashed. Plagg had insisted he try on dress shoes, and he had done so to humor the creature, but obviously those weren't right. The white shoes on his feet worked well, though. They stood out, but in a complimentary way, the perfect pair of shoes for his outfit.

Plagg looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “I still think you should go with the brown ones. They’re classy.”

“Those are loafers, and I'm not wearing loafers with jeans. Besides, I refuse to take fashion advice from a dog who magically creates a fanny pack-toolbelt.”

“It’s practical!” The kwami threw the remote as far as it could. It landed softly on the carpet beneath the couch. “And I’m not a dog!”

“Well you’re not a cat,” Adrien checked his mirror, checking for any hairs he’d missed when he’d shaved earlier. “As you’ve so kindly told me before. And you’re certainly not a duck.”

Plagg shook in silent fury as Adrien left the room to go speak to his father. Adrien grinned to himself. He had found the little black cat endlessly entertaining, especially since it got riled up so easily.

The walls of the mansion were filled with paintings. Some of them were old-school: impressionistic, romantic paintings of nature or scenes of people interacting with each other. The last year had seen the house gain a collection of modern art: collections of circles, lines, sometimes triangles if the artist was feeling particularly bold. The traditional paintings were kept further back in the house now, away from any place where a human could see it. The modern art caged Adrien in as he made his way to his father’s study. His footsteps echoed through the hallways until they stopped. He raised his hand and knocked.

“Enter,” Gabriel’s voice came muffled through the solid wood door. Adrien closed it behind him as silently as he could. Gabriel didn’t even look up. Adrien cleared his throat. Gabriel hummed.

“Hello, Adrien. Is there something you wanted?”

Anger rose through Adrien, but he forced it down. His voice a perfect mask of calm, he said, “Yes. I wanted to talk to you about something I need your permission for.”

Gabriel finally looked up from his computer, and his eyes seemed to have that knowing look in them. That look which Adrien once would have been relieved upon seeing--because at one point, Gabriel had actually known Adrien. It had been more than a year since Gabriel had known Adrien. Now that look only brought a pit of dread into Adrien’s stomach.

“You’re seventeen,” Gabriel murmured, shaking his head. “My, how time flies.”

“Yes, and I’ve been homeschooled my entire life. I want--”

“The time has come for you to come and ask for a car.” Gabriel interrupted, evidently not having heard anything his son had just said. Adrien stared at him, shocked. How could he have been so off the mark when, merely two years ago, Gabriel could instantly tell that Adrien had been having trouble in physics just by the gait of his walk? How had they drifted so far apart? “Don’t look so shocked,” Gabriel chuckled, already losing what little attention he had been giving his son. He shuffled some papers around. “I was your age, too, once.”

“No,” Adrien shook his head, stepping forward. “I want--”

“Of course, I can afford something much better than my father could ever even dream of giving me. So, have you given it any thought? A Maserati? Rolls-Royce? Oh, how about a Bugatti? I was just looking at their catalogue--”

Adrien raised his voice, “I don’t want a Bugatti, I want to go to public high school!”

His father was already lost to him. He continued mumbling to himself, something about having Natalie take him to the dealership at a later date, and Adrien was effectively dismissed.

Sudden fury filled Adrien. So that’s how it was, huh? Emelie Agreste went missing, and suddenly, since Gabriel’s world fell apart, it was alright for him to treat people like this? To barely have the common decency to pay attention to a conversation with his son for five minutes? Adrien understood pain--his mother had disappeared--but no one could say that Adrien Agreste was a rude, pathetic, shut-in. No one could say that Adrien Agreste, since the death of his mother, had slowly ceased speaking with his father, that he had avoided his only other relative like the plague, that he seemed to forget all the love he had for him. But it would be all too easy to accuse Gabriel of such actions. It would be so easy to accuse Gabriel of not caring for his son, that the words almost didn’t need to be said out loud.

Blood rushed to Adrien’s face as he turned and stomped back to his room. The door shut silently behind him, though Adrien longed to bang it shut--slam it repeatedly until his father finally took notice and deigned to grace Adrien with his attention. It was useless; he’d tried that before and Natalie told him to stop because she was about to have a meeting with an investor. Wasn’t it supposed to be the teenagers who were moody and ignored their parents? Why did Adrien have to be stuck in the one family where he couldn’t have that luxury? He would trade any of his things--hell, he’d trade all of them--to have enough of his father’s attention that Gabriel would care if Adrien acted out. Adrien entered his room and pulled out his computer before falling onto the couch next to Plagg.

“He said no?” Plagg guessed from the look on his partner’s face.

“He didn’t even listen to the first two sentences out of my mouth,” Adrien said, his voice the epitome of cool manners. “Since he didn’t say no, I’ll take it as a yes.”

“Which means…?”

“Which means I’m signing myself up as a student of Francois Dupont High School.”

“So, you’re rebelling by signing yourself up for school?”

“Yes,” Adrien smiled triumphantly. “It’s going to be great, I just know it!” Plagg sighed and turned his attention back onto the cooking show he was watching.

Over the past three weeks, Marinette had gotten used to the company of her little kwami. Most of the time, the thing was harmless. It floated around her room and looked at the designs posted all over the walls, or ate a few cookies from the bakery downstairs, or she drew with the art supplies Marinette provided for her. The kwami was sweet, if a little air-headed. It never gave Marinette useful information until it was almost too late, and it frequently gave Marinette advice she hadn’t asked for. Usually it was about how she should be applying her concealer, or something equally as easy to ignore.

At the moment, however, Tikki was talking a mile a minute about the design Marinette was working on, the design she was going to be submitting for the Agreste fashion contest. Agreste--as in, one of the biggest fashion firms in Paris. Usually Marinette brushed off Tikki’s opinions of her designs. In this case, she couldn’t afford to. The contest promised the winner’s design would be featured in multiple fashion magazines, along with the winner’s name underneath the design, as well as a nice 700 euro reward. Marinette had entered the Agreste fashion contest last year as well, and had won. She knew her design would be featured in the magazine. She knew she would be receiving 700 euros. She knew her name would not be listed anywhere on the magazine, or on the Agreste website. It happened last year, and there was no doubt it would happen again. It didn’t matter. Her family needed any extra money it could get. Marinette had been working at her family’s bakery full-time all summer for next to nothing, and they were still struggling. When she went back to school, her parents would be forced to hire someone to work when she usually did, and they would be forced to pay them adequately. She just wanted to help them out as much as she could. So, she took all of Tikki’s advice seriously.

The garment was a summer dress. It was difficult to make a summer dress interesting since they tended to be so simple in nature, but Marinette liked the challenge. She had taken a bold print she’d been hanging onto for a while--a white background with red and orange maple leaves scattered around it--and used it in conjunction with a light green fabric and a basic white. The leaf fabric was used as accents along the sides of the dress, on the buttons along the front, and on the seams of the pockets. The green was used for the sleeves and top half of the bodice, and the white used for everything else. The silhouette was classic, but it didn’t need to be bold with all the pattern-work on the dress. It didn’t seem like it would work, but it just did--in the best possible way. The design was one Marinette had been stewing on for a while. She was almost reluctant to turn it into Agreste for no credit, but she had no choice, really. This was a winning design. 700 euros might not mean a lot to everyone, but it sure meant a lot to her family.

“That’s it, Marinette,” Tikki fell to the floor and sighed, as if she had been the one working since 5 in the morning. “I think it’s ready to be sent in.”

The trip to the post office was simple, and nerve-wracking. Marinette had been entering contests since she could first sew, but the nerves she got from entering a competition never went away. Sometimes it was delayed, sometimes the nerves came days before the entered the design, but they were always there.

“Don’t worry, Marinette,” her kwami said. “Your design is gorgeous, it’ll be a winner for sure!”

Marinette managed a smile before handing the garment bag over to the clerk in the post office. That was it. Now it was out of her hands. She turned and started to walk home. If only she didn’t need to go to school. She still would have entered the contest, but she could have afforded not to submit a dress which had a piece of her soul in it. She sighed. She was going to be a fashion designer--did it really matter when France went to America to fight against the British? It wasn’t like she was planning on going to college. She was going to apply for internships in all the fashion houses in Paris. If she couldn’t get in here, she would simply look outside her hometown. No matter how far from her parent’s bakery her dream took her, Marinette knew it was her path. Sure, she could have gone to fashion school, but school was not where Marinette thrived. Thankfully, she was already in her last year of high school. No more teachers, no more tests, no more projects for her. Ever. She was almost out. She’d just have to survive another year of Chloe’s taunts, Sabrina's attitude, and Max’s constant video game challenges. No big deal, she had been doing it for years. She could do it again. Who knew, maybe this year Chloe wouldn’t be in her class.

Adrien was at the hospital again, but this time he came prepared. On the floor by his feet was a bag full of twinkies. In front of him was a hospital wing filled with eighteen month’s worth of Akuma. Inside each bed was a sedated human, possessed by some sort of moth. Adrien de-transformed in a flash of light and shoved another twinkie in Plagg’s mouth.

“I told you, I prefer cheese.”

“Incorrect. You prefer chaotic foods, and as I explained to you--”

“Yeah, yeah,” Plagg grumbled. “'Twinkies. The most chaotic food of all.'” Plagg swallowed the pastry in a single bite, then shuttered in disgust.

“Claws out,” Adrien murmured, approaching the next Akuma. He’d halfway cured five already that night, and he was ready to make that number six. “Cata--” He was cut off by the rumble on the streets of Paris. Cat Noir jumped out of the hospital window. After his visit a week ago, the previous window had been replaced, and the staff kept the window open at night. It was pretty convenient, and he usually closed the window behind him when he left. Tonight, Cat Noir had other things on his mind.

People had already begun mobbing the streets, the air clung to their bodies and hair. It was a literal sea of people, coming out of their houses in waves, crashing against each other to try and get to the nearest shelter before it filled up.

Tonight’s the night, kid, Plagg said. We’re going to battle, and you’re going to meet your partner.

Adrien should have been ecstatic. He’d seen the footage of Ladybug. Everyone had. He’d seen how she handled the giant Makara, how she’d finally proved that it was possible to reverse the effects of an Akumatization. She’d been amazing. He’d been looking forward to meeting her for days--ever since he’d realized that he was her partner.

Now, though, looking down the street and seeing a hulking figure slowly lumbering through the streets of Paris, slowly destroying the city once again, Adrien didn’t want to be Cat Noir. He wanted to be stuck in bed, angry at his father and the monotony of his life and the disappearance of his mother. He wanted to read about the battle on his phone the next day, or see it on the news. He didn’t want to be a part of it. He didn’t want to do anything. He wanted to freeze and hope the Makara would be defeated before it got to the hospital. He wanted to join the people below and move towards safety. He wanted to leave the Makara and the Akuma to the police and Ladybug. He didn’t want to go towards the danger he had thought of as excited a few minutes ago.

Sorry, kid, Plagg sympathized. This is just the way it’s got to be. Our wavelengths match. It’s your job, now. She’s already there, dealing with the Makara. We’ve got to get there before the Akuma does.

Adrien knew that. He knew. He hesitated a moment longer. His heart thudded.

Breathe, Plagg allowed. But not for too long because you can breathe on the way to the Makara.

Adrien laughed tightly. He grabbed his staff, and after one more moment of pause, he headed off towards the Makara, where he could vaguely see a small, lithe figure swirling around it. This Makara was solid and rectangular. It was a vaguely pinkish hue, and every once in a while, it stuck its tongue out in the air. Its body was covered in scales which shimmered, even in the dark, as though they were wet.

“Oh, god,” Adrien groaned as he got closer. His hold on the staff loosened and he almost fell to the ground. “What is that smell?”

The Makara, Plagg said, sounding as though he quite enjoyed the stench. Adrien dry-heaved. Hey, not on the suit.

“It would be an improvement,” Adrien tried to force the nausea down as he moved ever closer. “Trust me.”

Something slammed into Adrien before Plagg could sputter out some indignant reply. He turned and grabbed whatever it was before using the staff to keep them both from falling three stories to the concrete ground.

Let go of that, you idiot! Plagg yelled in his ear, and Adrien immediately loosened his arm. Whatever it was that he had been holding onto pulled from his grip, but remained in the air with him. Its body was vaguely female, and looked to be wearing simple jeans and a t-shirt. All visible skin was covered by a light feathering of fur. Her hair was brown and wavy. Pretty. Her eyes were surrounded by a red glow. An Akuma.

It looked at him for a moment before tilting her head, as if listening to someone. Then she turned towards the Makara. Before he knew what he was doing, Adrien grabbed the Akuma’s ankle. He didn’t know what its power was, but he wasn’t going to let the Akuma near Ladybug while she was busy. Ladybug might not know it yet, but he was her partner, and he would always have her back.

He grabbed at her and threw her against the nearest building, following closely behind. As he approached, she growled at him  It was such an inhuman act that Adrien paused for a moment from shock. The Akuma took advantage and threw herself at him, her wings spread to make sure she would make the long jump.

He dodged the Akuma’s hands. He still didn’t know what she could do, but he knew that it would happen as soon as those hands touched him. That’s how all Akuma worked--their hands held magic, and whoever was touched by them was changed. No one knew how to reverse the effects yet, so as of the moment, anyone tainted by an Akuma was treated as terminal and a danger to society. They were all held in the Akuma sector of the hospital, all sedated and left alone.

Adrien shortened the staff to the length of a baseball bat and hit the Akuma so that she would go straight down. Unfortunately, she was stronger than he had thought, and the hit did nothing more than slightly alter her course. In a moment, her wings had fixed her trajectory, and her hands were outstretched once again to change him. Adrien willed the staff to grow, and in an instant he was above her. Her face slammed into the pole. He slid down, his feet right below him, and slammed the bottoms of his boots onto the top of her head. He shortened the staff, then swung, this time with more force. Again, the Akuma slammed into a building. Below him, the police were beginning to arrive.

“Two of them?” One officer wailed in despair.

“No, look, one of them’s fighting the other!”

“Do you think it’s Cat Noir?”

Adrien paid them no attention and instead used the staff to fling himself towards the Akuma. She rolled to the side before he could get to her, her hands once again outstretched to change him.

A sound filled the air, like a zip, and suddenly the Akuma’s hands were tied up, and pulled above her body.

Adrien blinked, and then the struggling and spitting Akuma was pulled away from him and into the air. Its wings opened, possibly trying to guide where it was going, but the force with which it was being flung about was too strong. At one end of the string was the Akuma. At the other end was Ladybug.

She swung the Akuma around, possibly to disorient it. Her outfit was tacky, but nowhere near as bad as Adrien’s. Hers was a simple skin-tight jumpsuit, entirely red with black spots on it (some might call it simple, but Adrien would call it unimaginative and on-the-nose). The suit covered her feet and hands, and every other part of her body except for her face. Her eyes were framed by a simple mask, a base red with more spots on it. Her outfit looked as though a child had drawn it. If not for the fact that Adrien knew her hair and eyes had been changed, she would have been completely recognizable to anyone who knew her outside of the mask. As it was, her irises were a vivid purple, her hair an unusually fluorescent red, and it framed her face in a chic bob. The most impressive part about her, though, was her presence. As she swung the Akuma around on the leash, she stood with her legs firm, her face set, and her demeanor calm. She was just like the videos made her out to be: confident, powerful, and totally in control. Her stern voice called from the roof of the building he was on:

“Go away,” Ladybug called without looking at him. “You’re only going to get hurt.” And then she was off. Adrien leapt after her.

“Ladybug, I’m Cat Noir!”

“I don’t care,” she grunted, finally letting go of the Akuma. It spun around the air a few times, and Adrien extended the staff so that it hit the Akuma in the solar plexus and pinned her to the ground.

“Tie her up!” he urged, “I can destroy her weak point!”

“There’s no guarantee you’re my partner,” Ladybug landed on the ground and ran towards the Akuma without pause. The Akuma was dazed, but still conscious. Adrien mentally cursed. How tough were these things? Ladybug grabbed one of the Akuma’s arms and tugged at it, but Adrien wouldn’t let up his hold of the staff. “Let her go,” She grit out. “The Akuma will be back on form in a few moments, and we don’t have time to spare. The police and I already have a procedure.”

“Well, you’re just going to have to alter that procedure,” Adrien frowned. “I am your partner, and you’re going to have to let me try and help you.” The police were coming closer, and Adrien hoped their rapport with Ladybug would get her to trust him a little. It hurt to see the hero he had been so excited to see distrust him so openly.

“I don’t have to do anything,” Ladybug said. “Until I know you’re exactly who you say you are, you might as well be another Akuma.” Adrien ran his clawed hands through his hair, and winced as he accidentally cut his head.

“Your kwami is probably telling you that I’m your partner right now!” That got a startled look out of her, but it was too late. A police officer shouted a warning, and the staff jerked out of Adrien’s hands. The police shouted orders and codes at each other, but Adrien didn’t pay any attention to them. He had to prove to Ladybug that he was to be trusted.

The Akuma's wing had been damaged, so it stayed on the ground. It was heading back to the Makara. He planted his feet in the ground and extended the staff, this time intending on knocking her to the side, or to the ground. Then, Ladybug could tie her up, he could destroy the object, she’d purify the girl, and they’d walk away as happy partners.

It didn’t end up going that way. Apparently, Ladybug had had a similar idea, just without the ‘Cat Noir will knock the Akuma down’ part. Her yo-yo wrapped around his staff, and he could hear her growl of frustration.

“Stay back,” she called. “You’re getting in the way!”

“No way!” He used the staff as a sort of broomstick to catch up to Ladybug and the Akuma. “We’re partners, and I’m not going to be dead weight!”

Before she could react, he dropped to the ground, swung his staff around, trying his best to avoid any buildings, and slammed it against the Akuma. The staff held her against the side of a building, trapped.

“I got her, she’s down, now please tie her up!” Adrien demanded, exasperated. Ladybug did so with practiced ease. “Cataclysm,” he mumbled as he ran up to the Akuma. The world went gray, and objects had a slight haze around them, noticeable enough to give him a slight headache. He wasn’t sure how long he had before Ladybug decided he was just pulling her leg, so he looked for the weak point as fast as he possibly could. As Ladybug made her way towards him, he reached into the girl’s pocket and plucked out a phone. His left hand grabbed onto it, and it disintegrated. The world snapped back into focus, and colors seeped back into his vision.

Ladybug caught the escaping butterfly and she purified the it. Adrien watched with awe as the hair, wings, and red glow on the Akuma disappeared in a haze of bubbles. "Wow," he breathed.

Ladybug came to stand by him. For a girl with such a strong presence, she sure was tiny.

“So, you’re my partner?” She looked him up and down with pained eyes. “Yup, seems about right. Nice boots.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled. “It wasn’t my choice. Nice...hair?”

She sighed. “Don’t even start, I know it’s awful.”

The police came by a few moments later to close off the area and ask the girl a few questions. Name? Alya Cesaire. Age? 17. Did she see what had transformed her? A white butterfly. What had she been doing just prior to the transformation? She had been denied an interview with a local politician once again. Nothing new for her.

The police shook their heads and turned back to their horses, frustrated with the lack of information about whatever was happening to their city. Alya Cesaire turned to Ladybug and Cat Noir, surprisingly alert for someone who had just been Akumatized. She first turned to Adrien.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Cat Noir,” he grinned. “Ladybug’s partner.”

“Her partner?!” Alya exclaimed, then turned to Ladybug, “Your partner?!” She started patting her pants, “Do either of you have a moment for an interview? Geez, where’s my phone?”

Adrien’s ring beeped, reminding him that it was time to go. It also, conveniently, gave him an out, and an excuse not to tell Alya exactly what had happened to her phone. He gave her an excuse and bid Ladybug goodnight. She looked at him like she knew exactly why he didn’t want to talk to the reporter for very long. Adrien didn’t care. He was tired, and he had a photo shoot the following afternoon. He needed an overnight mask, and as much sleep as he could get.

(The next day, social media was introduced to a small blog which would soon blow up and become known as the most reliable and up-to-date source of information of all things supernatural happening in Paris. The amateur reporter who ran the blog was one Alya Cesaire, who had not only been purified by Ladybug, but who had been given the opportunity to conduct Ladybug’s first official interview.)

Chapter Text

Marinette had only been awake for half an hour and she already wanted the day to be over.

“Oh, cheer up, cherie,” her father nudged her gently. “It’s just a few hours, and you’ll be right back here--working for next to nothing! Doesn’t that sound great?”

“Just great,” Marinette mumbled, resisting the urge to rub her eyes. She had just applied concealer, and she didn’t want any to get on her hands. Her mother came from behind her and handed her a large thermos of coffee.

“You’ll get to show off your latest design,” her mother said, smiling at her daughter’s outfit. “Won’t that be nice?”

“Yeah,” Marinette sighed, running her hands through her head. Sabine frowned and shooed Tom back to the kitchen.

“Are you alright, dear?”

“I--yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

Her mother pursed her lips, clearly not believing her, but she let it be. Marinette was seventeen, now, not seven. If she needed advice, or an ear to listen to her troubles, her daughter knew she was available.

“Well, you’d better head off, then. You don’t want to be late for your first day of your last year of high school!”

“Please stop acting so cheerful,” Marinette said, her words grumpy, but the smile on her face ruined it. “It’s too early for happiness.”

“But not too early for croissants,” Her father entered the dining room again, kissed Marinette on the head, then practically shoved her to the door. “Now go. I don’t want a single call from the administration office this year. You’re almost an adult, learn to be punctual.”

“Then stop giving me a shift at the bakery in the mornings,” Marinette countered. Tom just laughed and waved her off before heading back inside to continue making fresh bread for the day. Marinette sighed and started the twenty minute walk to school.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Tikki’s voice was small and cute, just like she was. Marinette pursed her lips.

“Do you think I was too harsh when I met Cat Noir?” Tikki didn’t say anything, so Marinette continued, not bothering to keep her voice down. No one was on the street to see her talk to herself, so no one was there to think she was crazy. Even if there was someone on the street, Marinette wouldn’t know them well enough to care what they thought of her. “It’s just...something about him rubbed me the wrong way. He irritated me.” The kwami still didn’t say anything, and Marinette found herself rushing to explain herself even more. “I was in the middle of a battle, full adrenaline, and then he came out of nowhere and completely ruined my flow! And I’ve been fighting Makara and Akuma for weeks without him, so what’s the big deal about him showing up now? If his power is to destroy the ‘weak spot’ of the Akuma, can’t he wait until the police and I sedate the Akuma, and then trap the butterfly in the hospital, like he’s already been doing?” Tikki’s silence was beginning to get on Marinette’s nerves, and she only had so much patience this early in the morning. “The silence was cute at the beginning, but now it’s just aggravating.”

“You sure know a lot of words for ‘you’re bothering me.’”

“That’s all you got from what I said?”

“Well, you’ve said what you were feeling,and I listened. Are you going to apologize when you next see him?”

“I don’t know,” Marinette muttered. She didn’t want to say it out loud, but she doubted she would. Marinette was a blend of her parents--as loyal and protective as her dad, and as feisty and proud as her mother. And her pride wouldn’t allow her to apologize easily. “I was doing fine without him. He could have introduced himself earlier. Everyone knows Ladybug makes nearly daily trips to the hospital--why didn’t he come then?”

“Maybe he was busy.”

“I don’t need a partner,” Marinette said. “I was doing just fine without him. I’m not going to apologize. I was looking out for him. He hadn’t been in any battles before, and he could have gotten hurt.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to apologize?”

“It's not that I don't want to apologize,” Marinette said, slowing on her walk to school. “I just won’t. I can’t.”

“Humans are so silly,” Tikki giggled, “You try and act like you can do everything yourself, like you don’t need any help. But you do! As the Ladybug, your powers don’t work to their fullest capability unless the Black Cat is there. His magical wavelength resonates with ours, and it amplifies whatever we do. You don’t have to apologize, Marinette, but you do have to work with him. Besides, he seems nice.”

“Yeah,” Guilt ate at Marinette. “He does seem nice.”

The conversation tapered off, and Marinette spent the rest of the walk to school in silence. It wasn’t like she didn’t realize she had been unfair to the cat--she definitely knew. She just didn’t want to have to apologize, because that would signify that she thought she had done something wrong. Sure, she could have been nicer, but she was constantly grumpy, and being nice wasn’t the usual for her. Her points, however, had been valid. She was in full-battle mode, blood rushing to her head, muscles acting before she even knew what she was doing, mind void of anything but first the Makara, then the Akuma. She hadn’t been able to hear herself think, much less hear Tikki’s soft voice. There was no way she would have heard Tikki tell her that the boy in the black spandex suit was her partner. It wasn’t her fault that he hadn’t thought to introduce himself before an actual fight, almost a month after Marinette had debuted as Ladybug. It wasn’t her fault that she had been worried about his safety and wanted him as far away from danger as he could get. It wasn’t her fault that the words came out a little more waspish than most people would want.

Marinette sighed as her school came into view. Oh well, no use worrying about it now. She’d just have to see if she apologized when she next met the guy. She grabbed her schedule from the front office and trudged to her class, sipping on her coffee. Her first class was French Literature, not bad. She wouldn’t be able to stand it if her day started with math again.

She walked into the room and was faced with a mix of new and old faces. There were her friends: Kim, Alix, Ivan, and Nino. There were her enemies: Chloe and Sabrina. There were the people she’d known for years and didn’t necessarily get along with, but didn’t necessarily antagonize: Juleka, Max, Mylene, and Nathaniel.

Then there were the new kids. There was a short girl with a blonde bob. Her outfit was cute, if monochromatic--it was completely pink. Marinette admired her guts to wear that in public. Sitting next to her was another girl. Her hair was long and brown, her eyes a beautiful green, and her outfit was something Marinette would wear. A short blue babydoll dress fit the girl perfectly, and she wore a cute red jacket over it. Marinette couldn’t see her shoes, but she bet they were sandals. It was still warm enough for sandals, and would completely adhere with the style of the rest of her clothes. On a table to the right of the room was a girl who sat alone, a very familiar girl. Alya Cesaire. Marinette made her way to her side and sat down.

“Hi, I’m Marinette,” she said and took another swig of her coffee. Alya looked at her and smiled.

“I’m Alya. Are you new here, too?”

“Nope, I’ve been stuck with these losers since fifth grade,”

“Hey,” Kim complained from somewhere behind her. “Don’t forget to tell her that we’ve been stuck with you, too,”

The door opened, and in walked another boy. To put it simply, he was gorgeous. His jeans were dark and perfectly fit to him, his crewneck was just baggy enough to say he didn’t care if people could see his body shape, but just form-fitting enough to say that it was expensive. His white sneakers were simple, yet tied everything together. They were pristine, almost like they were new. His whole outfit screamed ‘I’m preppy, but not preppy enough to be a douchebag.’ Marinette was very impressed by his styling. His face was nothing to look over, either. His eyes were a pretty green, his lips curved in a gentle smile, and his hair looked soft enough to run her hands through endlessly.

Then he ruined everything by walking straight towards Chloe Bourgeois. All interest in him ruined, she turned back to Alya. They chatted for a few minutes before class began, and school was just as monotonous as Marinette had remembered it. The lunch bell couldn’t come fast enough.

“Why don’t you join us at lunch?” Alix said, strolling up to Alya and Marinette. Kim ran ahead, saying that he would go grab a table before they were all claimed. Alya happily agreed and the three girls wandered to the cafeteria, keeping an eye out for Kim.

“I see Nino,” Marinette pointed. “And where there is Nino, Kim can’t be far behind.” The group made their way over. Nino sat on one side of the table, Alix next to him. Alya and Marinette sat on the other side. Kim came a few moments later, half-dragging Max behind him. Kim sat on Nino’s side of the table, and Max sat next to Alya. He was the first to ask her a question:

“What brought you to Francois-Dupont?”

“My mom got a new job here, so we moved, and I got signed up to the nearest high school. What’s it like here?”

“Well,” Marinette paused. “It’s fine, I guess. You show up, they talk at you for a while, and you go home. You’ve already made it halfway through the day, the second half isn’t much different.”

“Yeah, but this is Francois-Dupont High School!”

“And?” Kim voiced the question everyone else at the table was wondering. Nino unwrapped his sandwich at the other end of the table and started eating.

“Do you know how many Akumas have been through this area? What do you guys do when there’s a sighting?” Alix went to the bathroom, and Max savored the pudding he had packed for himself, fighting off Kim any time the athletic boy tried to steal it. Marinette, however, was beginning to find this line of conversation very interesting, and ignored her food for the moment.

“Oh, you like to keep up with that sort of news?” she asked.

“Are you kidding? It’s, like, my entire life. I’ve always wanted to be a reporter, so I’ve spent the last few years trying to get some experience in. I’ve been going after anyone I possibly could--restaurant owners, politicians, principals, you name it. No one gave me the time of day. Then, I got Akumatized and Ladybug--the Ladybug--purified me! And! She! Let! Me! Interview! Her!”

Marinette bit her lip to keep from smiling. She hadn’t known it would mean so much to the girl just to talk to her for a little bit after she had been through such an ordeal. Now she was really glad she had given Alya so much of her time.

“I started a whole blog about her,” Alya was rambling, pulling out her phone to show Marinette. She scrolled through everything, showing her the layout. Here’s where the written posts are, here’s the picture gallery, a separate gallery for any videos, there’s a section for public comments, and the Contact Me information. It was a professional blog, very well-kept and nicely organized, and the design of it was great. Marinette told her so, and Alya beamed. “It’s about all I’ve been working on for the past few days. I’ve reached out to all the news channels around here for any information or images they have. They didn’t want to talk to me. So, I promoted myself on social media, and now look! I have 200 views! People have been sending me all sort of stuff--personal accounts, images, blurry videos. It's not much now, but I really think this can be a big thing!”

“That’s really cool,” Alix shoved her face between Alya and Marinette. Apparently, she was back from the bathroom. “What’s it called? I’ll open it on my phone so I don’t forget about it.”

“The Ladyblog,” Alya said, turning towards Alix. Alix opened it up, and so did everyone else at the table.

“You know,” Max said. “I have a few cameras I could lend you. I’ll show you how to set them up and you can set them up around the city. When the next Makara and Akuma attacks occur, you can remotely take high-quality photographs.”

“Really?” Alya smiled brightly. “Thanks! Can I come over to your house after school today to check them out?”

“Certainly,” Max nodded.

“It might be cool if you had another tab,” Alix said. “One just for conspiracies.”

“There’s already a comment section.”

“Yeah, but that’s at the bottom of the photo gallery. I mean a separate tab, with buttons for separate conspiracies, you know? Like, one button for Ladybug’s identity, another for where the Makara come from, another for the Akuma. Something like that.”

“That’s a pretty good idea,” Alya hummed and made a note on her phone to add that feature on her blog.

They continued to talk for the rest of their lunch break. Alya was surprisingly easy to get along with. She was open, nice, and curious. Nino’s jokes made her laugh, Max’s geekiness didn’t make her roll her eyes, the rivalry between Alix and Kim didn’t make her at all uncomfortable, and Marinette’s chronic use of dry humor and grumpy tone didn’t turn her away.

They all sighed in disappointment as the school bell chimed, indicating the end of lunch. The teens grumped as they stood and started to clear their table, but then stopped all at once. The air grew humid, and the ground rumbled. The principal’s voice sounded throughout the school.

“No need to panic,” he tried to assure, “Exit the premises in an orderly fashion. The nearest bunker is…” He continued to speak, but the havoc in the school grounds made it impossible to decipher his words. Marinette lost sight of her friends, but she assumed they would keep going towards the bunker. She fought against the crowd of highschoolers, pushing her way back into the school and towards the restrooms where she would have the privacy she needed to transform.

“Spots on,” she mumbled, and flash--she once again wore the ladybug suit. She forced open the small window in the restroom and slid out of the building. Her yo-yo spun out of her hands and soon she was zooming through Paris, trying her best to find the Makara, or possibly the Akuma. A black blur zoomed past her.

“Ladybug!” He called. “It’s me, Cat--”

“I know, I know,” she mumbled. “Cat Noir. Listen, if you take care of the Akuma, I’ll take care of the Makara.” She didn’t hear a response, so she assumed he had given his assent. The Makara was odd today. Half of it was purple, the other half a vivid orange. It stood on two feet, each columnar, like an elephant. The top half vaguely resembled an alligator, and it snapped at anything or anyone which was too close to its mouth. Where a tail easily could have been located, was a distinctly fish-like tail. It lumbered through a residential area of Paris, the police struggling to catch up to it.

She landed next to them and ran to keep pace with their horses. As much as the design of the suit offended her, Marinette couldn’t say that the magical effects of it bothered her at all.

“Have you weakened it in any way?” She questioned the officer nearest to her.

“No, we can’t even get near the thing without it trying to eat us,” she said, urging her horse to move faster. Marinette nodded, understanding perfectly.

“Stand ready!” She ordered. Her yo-yo was now like an extension of her own body. She could wield it as effectively and easily as she could use her own two fists, but it was much more versatile. It wrapped around a building on the opposite side of the Makara, and it stumbled to a confused halt. The officers around her tried to draw nearer to the monster, but its jaws snapped at them. If they missed an officer, an entire chunk of the street would wind up in its jaws, crushed to small pieces which rained down on Paris. Marinette needed to shut that thing’s mouth, and the sooner the better.

She jumped up to the top of a building, readied herself, and swung her yo-yo around the Makara’s mouth. Three, four times the magical yo-yo circled the Makara’s jaw, and then Marinette pulled. Its jaws snapped shut, but it was not happy. The officers below did nothing, and Marinette assumed they were either waiting for her to subdue the Makara further, or they were assisting Cat Noir with an Akuma.

The Makara swung her around, but she didn’t release her grip on the yo-yo. She needed that mouth to remain closed, no matter what, but she did not want to be swung from side to side like a ragdoll. It was giving her motion sickness. Inch by inch, she slowly started climbing up the yo-yo string, trying to eventually stand on the Makara’s head.

Shots fired from below her, and she couldn’t risk opening her mouth or she might bite her tongue off.

“Don’t shoot,” she wanted to say. “What if a Makara is just a possessed human?” She knew she couldn’t. Akuma could be subdued, they could be stored, and they could even be purified. Makara were too big, too dangerous. The entire city of Paris was too big of a cost to save one human--if the Makara even were humans.

“Ladybug!” Cat Noir’s voice sounded strangely close. She looked to the right, and there he was, perched atop his staff. “We’ve got the Akuma subdued for now, but we need you to purify it before it gets loose again!”

“Can’t you see I’m a little busy right now?” She grit out. Cat Noir lunged forward and landed on the Makara’s head. He started reeling her in, but in doing so, he loosened the hold the yo-yo had on the Makara’s mouth.

“No, stop!” Ladybug called, but it was too late. The Makara was loose, and Marinette was furious. Cat Noir was tossed off the newly freed Makara’s head, but he used his staff to soften his landing on the ground. Ladybug swung off of a lamppost and landed next to some police officers. The Makara, now able to walk since it was no longer concerned about its captive head, lifted one foot to step forward. Ladybug lassoed an officer out of the way, and was about to try and save two more in the monster’s way, when Cat Noir beat her to it. He was out of her sight for a few moments, and she used the opportunity to jump onto another roof. The Makara, now seeing her as a definite threat, snapped at her. She flipped out of the way, but it was no use. It kept snapping after her, and whatever surface she was on soon found itself in the creature’s mouth.

An arm wrapped around her waist, and Marinette shrieked as she was lifted in the air. She fought to be let down, to turn around and face her attacker, but the arm held firm.

“It’s just me,” Cat Noir tried to calm her.

“You’re dead!” She kicked. “Let me go, let me go, let me go!” He dropped her on a building a block away from the Makara. She wanted to start yelling immediately, but first she needed a second to compose herself. Her heart thudded, and she felt light-headed. In, out, in out. She steadied her breathing, steadied her heartbeat, and calmed herself. She turned to him, but her attention was caught by a white butterfly. She purified it, then turned to her ‘partner.’

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” She demanded. “Your job was to subdue the Akuma. I was going to take care of the Makara--the Makara which is eating buildings right now,” She couldn’t wait for a reply before she turned and jumped back towards the monster still lumbering through Paris.

It was a pain to subdue the Makara for a second time. It was much more wary of her now, but with the help of the police fire, and with time wearing the monster down, She eventually shut its mouth again. Instead of trying to climb up to its head, she leaped down to street level and created a complex web with the never-ending string of the yo-yo. She ran around buildings, in front of the Makara, behind the beast, anywhere she could to tangle the creatures enormous legs. Then, she pulled. It was difficult--the creature must have weighed at least two tons. Even with the added strength of the supersuit, Marinette almost thought she wouldn’t be able to pull the creature down. Almost. She held it in place as the police closed in on it and shot it. It disappeared in a haze, leaving the air smelling like old seawater.

She rewound her yo-yo and turned to the officers, ready to accept their praise and make a hasty excuse about needing to leave to see to her family’s safety. Her expectations could not have been any different from what actually occurred.

“What the hell do you think you and your little partner are doing?” one of the officers demanded. He stepped forward, and Ladybug scowled at him, tensing.

“We’re helping you solve a problem you can’t handle on your own,” she growled. “Isn’t that obvious?” she glanced around for Cat Noir, but he was gone.

“If you’re looking for your worthless partner,” a different officer stepped forward, on the other side of the previous officer. “He left as soon as he concussed Officer Perot!”

“Oh, and don’t forget about the buildings he’s ruined--along with you! If you had held onto the Makara’s mouth instead of getting distracted by the boy, we could have saved dozens of peoples’ homes!”

“I’ve said it from the beginning,” someone called from the back. “Children have no place fighting crime.”

“Next time you and your little boyfriend decide to dress up and play hero, try to at least not get anyone hurt, if you refuse to be helpful!”

Marinette erupted. “Are you serious?” She let loose a string of curses at them. “You think you could be even half as successful without me? You couldn’t even get within a block of the Makara until I showed up! And if you think it’s so easy to hold onto a string while being whipped around by a Makara, next time you do it! Do it all on your own next time for all I care--I’m the girl with magic, and you’re in no shape to protect Paris without me. A block of ruined apartment buildings? Let’s see what you can save without me here to save your asses! My powers are the ones which have saved over a dozen Parisian citizens from permanently being Akumatized! My powers are the ones which help you stop the Akuma before they harm anyone. My powers are the ones you rely on every time the Makara alarm goes off. And you,” Marinette spun towards Officer Perot. “Don’t you lie to me. I was there--I saw my partner save you. Cat Noir might be new, but he’s trying his best to save this city, just like I was, just like you are. Don’t you dare disrespect his efforts by lying to everyone about what he did, and completely overlooking all the work he did tonight!” Ladybug turned and swung away, anger boiling in her muscles until late that night.

She couldn’t fathom the gall of those officers. How dare they insinuate that the damage was her fault? She was there to stop the Makara, to save people. She hadn’t summoned the creature--the destruction of Paris was not her doing. She had been responsible for was the purification of the Akuma, and the relative safety the Parisian police had had for the last month. Well, if this was how they were going to treat her, she might just not show up for a while. That would show them, wouldn’t it?

Marinette stepped out of her room, onto her balcony. The cool air of the Paris night brushed against her cheeks, and her ragged breaths evened out. She opened her eyes and studied the street below her. Broken up, crumbled, destroyed. An Akuma had done that, but Akuma only show up after Makara. The destruction of Paris could be blamed on the Makara--Marinette certainly blamed them. She looked up at the stars. As angry as she was, as many times as she angrily told Tikki she would quit and let the police officers take care of Paris on their own, she knew she was lying. Paris was her home, and she had the power to protect it, even a little. Marinette stayed there for a long time, simply staring at the ruined streets of her childhood.

(The confrontation between Ladybug and the police was recorded on a bodycam of an officer. The recording was anonymously sent to Alya Cesaire. A certain blonde boy saw the footage, heard the words, and understood their meaning. Ladybug had not been kind to him since he had met her, but her words in the altercation showed him one thing: she viewed him as her partner. He didn’t need an apology as long as he had that knowledge)

Chapter Text

Marinette ran down the stairs and flew straight into the woman in the doorway. The woman grunted in pain, but Marinette didn’t care and only held on tighter.

“Aunt Marie!”

“Mercy!” the woman gasped, tapping her niece’s back a few times. “Mercy!”

Marinette loosened her hold slightly and grinned up at her aunt. “Where have you been? Who have you met? Show me your new designs! Oh, and I like your new watch.”

Marie glanced down at her wrist, almost like she was noticing the article for the first time. “Well, thank you my dear. Come, get me a piece of lemon tart, and I shall tell you anything and everything you desire--after, of course,” Her aunt tapped her niece’s nose with a grin, “you show me the results for the last fashion competition you told me about.”

“Oh, that,” Marinette said, her mood seeming to drop. She went behind the counter and cut her aunt a piece of her favorite dessert. She came back around and served it to her aunt. “I won.”

“That’s fabulous, Dear!” Her aunt threw her arms around Marinette. “Why don’t you look more thrilled?” Marinette sighed and said that she would be right back. She climbed up the stairs, and Sabine entered the cafe section of the bakery.

“Marie,” she greeted warmly, kissing her sister-in-law on each cheek. “How have you been? Marinette’s been so excited that you were coming to visit--it’s been so long, Paris has changed so much. You won’t believe what we go through.”

“Oh, I believe it,” Marie unwound a light scarf from her neck. “I heard about it on social media, saw it on the news, and I had to walk over the evidence on my way here from the hotel I’m staying at. Why on earth do you continue to live here?”

“This is home,” Sabine said, shrugging. “It’s a bit messy right now, but it’s home.”

“Also, the rest of the world refuses to have Parisian refugees because they believe we have some sort of curse on us,” Tom offered as he exited the bakery. Marie laughed as she walked towards her younger brother.

“Some things never change,” she smiled at his flour-covered appearance.

“This is the magazine,” Marinette called as she entered the room again. “See? My design made the front page. And I got 700 euros as prize money.”

“My dear, this is wonderful!” Marie studied the design with a critical eye as she pulled Marinette in for a hug.

“You really think so?”

“No wonder you won the prize,” Marie smiled down at the young designer. “But, why are you not nearly as happy as I am? This design is beautiful, the concept is bold, the stitching is neat. What could possibly have you so down in the dumps?”

“Look for her name,” Sabine suggested, handing Marie a home-made latte, and Marinette a hot chocolate. Marie winced. Hot chocolate was comfort food for all the Chengs. She skimmed the front page, but needed to look no further.

“This was an Agrests competition?” Marie’s voice had changed, though she didn’t mean for it to do so.

“Yeah. They have a bunch of contests, competitions, and workshop opportunities. They/re also one of the biggest fashion firms in the country. It would be stupid of me not to enter their contests.”

Marie sighed and patted Marinette’s shiny blue hair. It was so smooth and straight, the complete opposite of her own unmanageable brown curls. Her niece’s eyes were so bright, so full of life and imagination. She really hadn’t wanted to say this to her. She had been trying for years to find a better method, and easier method. Sometimes, such a path didn’t exist.

“Cara, it seems that the time has come for me to tell you something.” She tapped the seat next to her and Marinette sat next to her, looking at her expectantly. “Do you remember stories of when I was in design school? How at the end of the four years there was a competition I entered, along with everyone else who graduated that year?”

Marinette nodded her head. “I remember every story about design school you’ve ever told me,” she said eagerly. “Even the ones you said I’d find boring--like the lecture about how textiles--”

Marie cut her off before Marinette could start rambling. “Yes, well, did I ever tell you that Gabriel Agreste was in my class?”

Marinette sat in silence for a moment, mouth agape. “What!?” She finally screeched. “You know Gabriel Agreste? And you never told me!?”

“No, I knew of Gabriel Agreste. Back then I suppose he was just Gabriel. He never went by Gabe, and if you knew him, you’d also agree that it would not work for him. Sorry, that was off topic. He entered the contest, same as I did. I spent days working on my design, and weeks perfecting my creation. It was a dress--a beautiful ballroom dress. I sewed over almost the entire thing to make the pattern I wanted onto the fabric. It was gorgeous--a dark, nearly blue dress, covered in lighter blue embroidery thread.”

“Hey, that sounds like one of the earlier Agreste dresses,” Marinette broke in. Marie’s lips twitched downwards.

“Patience, dear. I spent hundreds of dollars on materials, and spent hours every day hunched over a sewing machine, careful not to ruin a single stitch. And when I was finished, I was positive I would win first place. So, I turned it in.

“As you can see, I didn’t win. Gabriel did. I’m never one to be sore if I lose to someone who did better than me, so I decided to see what he had created. I was disgusted to see that it was my dress. I went to everyone around, all the judges, all the professors, all the students I could possibly think of to vouch for me. None of them would. They just thought I was sore about losing. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

“Always make sure to document that a design is mine and have witnesses to prove it?”

“Well, yes, that’s a good idea, but my point was that a thief’s son has a father who is also a thief.”

“Ok, now you’ve completely lost me,”

“Oh, don’t act vapid dear, stupid isn’t attractive on anyone. It’s like the old saying--the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Marinette paused, looking as if she was about to debate with her aunt, but then decided against it. “Ok, so you think Gabriel is a thief. Why would you bring up his son?”

“I read the tabloids,” Marie said, “I know his son is attending your school. I also know your luck--I bet he’s in your class.” Marinette opened her mouth to say something, but Marie shook her head, “Don’t say anything, just be aware, and be careful.”

Tom slapped his thighs and stood up. “Well, that was a fascinating conversation.” Marie made a face at him, but he ignored it. “Marinette, show your aunt to the nearest safety bunker. She'll need to know where it is in case there's an attack while she's here. Marie, I’ll take your things up to the guest room.”

That was that. The rest of the day was spent in relative peace, and Marie retired to bed early. She stayed for one week. Most of her time was spent in her niece’s room, helping her alter designs, or gifting her with fabrics, dyes, and buttons to see her creations come to life. Marinette’s closet was filled with designs--Marie nearly demanded Marinette throw her a fashion show. With each design, Marie grew more and more impressed. She still remembered the little girl who had been too frightened to attend kindergarten by herself. Marinette had refused to even leave the car. Marie had been there that day, and had wrapped her little neck in a hand-made scarf.

“There,” she had said. “Now you must go to school.” Her niece had looked at her, terribly confused. “Fashion is meant to be seen, cara,” Marie had smiled. There’s no point in wearing a new designer item if there is no one around to admire it.”

That day, Marinette had decided she would be a fashion designer, like her aunt. Since then, Marie had made it a point to send her fabrics every few months, and to visit as often as she could. She would do anything to help Marinette with her passion and future career.

Marie stayed for a week, then had to return to her home near the coast of France. Marinette gifted her with a new coat she had made specifically for her. It was beautiful, and the fit was perfect. Marinette had a talent, and Marie wanted to see what she could do with the proper resources. She turned from her family and went back home.

“Cat Noir!” Ladybug called, dodging another strike from the Akuma. Her partner was out of her range of vision, but she knew that if she called, he would be there for her.

“What’s--watch out!” His body slammed into her, and she watched as the Akuma stumbled back. It had been hit by a rubber bullet. She turned and glared at the police below. They paid her no mind. “They really need to focus on the bigger picture,” he mumbled. “We’re not on the force, but we can help them.”

“They won’t listen,” Ladybug stood up. “They’re still butt-hurt about what I said to them last time.” She gazed at the Makara, thankful that it was a relatively small one. The Akuma, on the other hand, was getting to be more of a hassle than she would have liked.

“Let’s leave the Makara to the police,” Cat Noir said, still catching his breath from the fight. “The two of us can take on the Akuma.” Ladybug nodded, and the two of them shot off towards the Akuma. It was big and pink. Its entire body was slimy, and it seemed to be the first Akuma whose magic contaminated more than just its hands. The slime dripped from all over its body and dripped onto the concrete. Whatever the slime touched seemed glued to the street. An officer had stepped in a pile and was still stuck there. A few of his fellow officers stood by him, ready to defend him against either the Akuma or the Makara. The Akuma looked like a slimy, hairless dog, and around its neck was a frill which reminded Marinette of a lion, but more snake-like. Covering its entire body were eyes--approximately eight billion of them. It was impossible to sneak up on, and dangerous to stay too close to. The cops had been trying to shoot the Akuma into exhaustion, but the slime had caught the bullets and rendered them useless. So far, the only things which had been able to touch the Akuma without getting stuck were Ladybug’s yo-yo and Cat Noir’s staff.

Ladybug once again attempted to wrap her yo-yo around the creature, but it was so slippery that the Akuma slipped out of her hold. Cat Noir attempted to hit the Akuma into a building, just to daze it for a second, but it dodged. What they needed was a net. A bit, weighted net. And possibly a can of pepper spray.

“Cat Noir!” She called out to her partner. “Keep it busy. I have to try something. And get some pepper spray!”

Before he could reply, she was off, running into an abandoned building. Days ago she had been complaining to her kwami, feeling jilted that Cat Noir had Cataclysm and a magical staff while she had a yo-yo. Tikki had told her that Cat Noir wasn’t alone in his powers--that she had something, too. But it would take her time to charge it up.

“Ok, here goes,” Ladybug muttered to herself, hating that she could hear the fighting outside the building and the ominous thuds of the Makara’s footsteps, but she could do nothing to help. Well, she could, but it required her to step out of action for a while. How long? She had no idea.

“Lucky Charm!” Marinette cried out, and her hands started glowing, warming up. Tikki had said that the more vividly she imagined what she needed, the faster they would appear. She concentrated on the image of a giant, weighted net. She pictured it in her hands, flying through the air, covering the Akuma. She concentrated on the image so hard that she gave herself a headache. Then, the light dimmed, and in her hands was a net. Her earrings chimed ten times, letting her know that she had ten minutes to capture the Akuma before she had to leave the task to her partner. She ran out of the building, threw the net over her shoulder, and swung across a few telephone poles to join her partner.

“I thought you’d abandoned me,” Cat Noir didn’t seem like he was teasing. Marinette wondered just how long she'd been gone, but decided to think about that later.

“And make you deal with the cops by yourself? Even I’m not that cruel.” She scanned the area, her eyesight surprisingly gray and fuzzy. Only one thing stood out to her--the lone surviving balcony of the block. “Get the Akuma to stand underneath that!” She pointed at the location, and then bounded to wait on top of it, holding the net at the ready. Her earrings chimed--seven minutes left.

Cat Noir, though new at the business of fighting Akuma and Makara, was a reliable partner. He antagonized the Akuma and led it to her as fast as he could. Likely, he knew she was on a time limit. He shouted at her, and she took that as a signal to throw the net. The Akuma screeched, and Marinette knew it was captured.

She jumped down just as Cat Noir had destroyed the Akuma’s weak point--it looked like a round pin which people stuck on their backpacks or hairbands. Marinette threw her yo-yo up and purified the butterfly. The slime monster melted away, leaving a large pile of slime. In the center was a terrified Mylene. Marinette blinked. She wasn’t close to Mylene--the two girls had hardly exchanged a dozen words with each other since they had met--but it was still uncomfortable to know that someone she had been acquainted with had been an Akuma. Cat Noir leaned down and offered her a hand.

“Are you alright?” he asked. She didn’t answer, and Cat Noir didn’t appear to care. “You should go home,”

“No, you should first give your statement to the police,” Marinette corrected. “They’ll want to hear about what you were doing before you were Akumatized.” Cat Noir rolled his eyes.

“Like that’ll help them at all.”

Marinette shrugged. She didn’t write the procedure, she just followed it. Her earrings chimed, and Marinette knew she had to get out of there. She turned to swing away, but was intercepted by a policewoman.

“You need to save Officer Marseille,” she said succinctly, not sparing Mylene a single glance. She then turned, as if expecting the two superheroes to follow her. Marinette frowned, turned, and swung away. Her arms ached, and her head pounded, but she was proud; she had finally used her power, and for once, she and her partner had gotten through a fight without getting in each other’s way somehow. If only the police would learn to leave them alone. Marinette was sure that the policewoman had told her to free Officer Marseille because she knew neither of the heroes could do such a thing--neither of them were able to undo the damage caused by either the Akuma or the Makara. She had no intention of being ridiculed by the media for being unable to help the officer when she had been essential in capturing and purifying the Akuma.

Cat Noir was left on the scene. Ladybug had said that even she wasn’t cruel enough to leave him to deal with the police alone. Evidently, she had changed her mind about that. He sighed as he once again tried to leverage the officer out of the slime. It was, truly, impossible, and Cat Noir needed to leave soon or he would detransform.

“I need to leave,” he straightened. “This is impossible, just take off your pants and your shoes, and you’ll be free.” Before the cops could, once again, hound him and keep him from leaving, Cat Noir extended the staff and raced off into the night.

(Officer Marseille had been incredibly lucky that his shoe and edge of his pant cuffs had been caught in a small puddle. He had walked home that day, with no pants and one less shoe. A few days later, a scientist was sent to sample the puddles to try and determine anything he could about the Akuma. He had chosen a larger puddle, had gotten stuck in the pile, and was sucked in. The fire department had showed up, so had Cat Noir and Ladybug. No one had been able to figure out how to save the man. He died, and days later there was no evidence of his existence.

The city of Paris decided that there was too much risk in studying the slime, and instead worked to clean the road. Unfortunately, the puddles of slime proved to be impossible to clean. Any time a city worker tried to mop or brush the puddles away, their tool had been sucked into the puddle and then dissolved over the next few days. Eventually, the city of Paris closed off that neighborhood to the general public.)

Chapter Text

Adrien wasn’t sure why Nino bothered Chloe so much. From what he’d seen, the guy just liked her and wanted to spend time with her, and for some reason that made Chloe see red. Adrien double checked his work on the handout in front of him. He had forgotten to finish the math homework last night, so here he was, before school started, desperately trying to finish it. Inwardly, he grinned. This experience was so thrilling to him, it was exhilarating. If he had forgotten to do work for his tutors at home, they would have simply assumed he’d have trouble with it and walked him through the problems. Since he was enrolled in public school, however, the teachers didn’t have that much time on their hands, and there was a possibility he would get in trouble if he didn’t turn in the work. There were actual consequences for laziness here. It might not be from his dad, but there was the possibility of attention from an adult who cared about him, even slightly. Still, he didn't want the embarrassment of not having his work done. His eyes slid across the page as he double checked the sums in his head.

In front of the table Adrien shared with Chloe was Nino. He was an average sized guy with dark skin and large glasses on his face. His clothes usually consisted of jeans and a shirt of some band or another, and he always wore a red baseball cap on his head. Overall, he was an agreeable guy, and there was nothing really offensive about him. Even the things he talked to Chloe about were middle of the road, mundane things. Did she like Jagged Stone? Because Nino loved Jagged Stone. Had she been on a picnic before? Because Nino used to go on picnics all the time with his siblings and aunts. Did she have any dreams for the future? Because Nino wanted to be a DJ.

Honestly, Nino was being really nice, considering no one else in the class except for Sabrina chose to talk to Chloe. For some reason, she just didn’t see it that way.

“What exactly did I do to make you think I wanted you talking to me?” she sat back in her seat and glared at the boy. “Tell me right now, and if you can’t think of anything, then just walk away.” The rest of the class mumbled silently in the background, apparently used to Chloe’s tone of voice. Adrien mentally cringed. He knew her. She didn’t mean to be like this, not really. There must be something going on--something she hadn’t yet told him.

“You didn’t say anything,” Nino admitted, “But it’s not like you ever told me you wanted me to go away.”

“Fine, then I’ll fix that right now,” Chloe said, somehow looking down her nose at Nino while sitting down. “I don’t want you to talk to me. Ever. I want you to go away.”

Someone banged their hands against a desk, and the class went silent. Adrien looked up from his homework and watched as a short Chinese girl stomped over to his table. Her hair was a dark blue, her brow furrowed, and her eyes were cold as ice. Chloe tensed next to him, and half stood out of her seat. Adrien suddenly wanted to be back home, away from whatever was about to happen next.

“Do you even hear yourself when you speak?” The girl grit out of her teeth. “Or do you just not care that you’re talking to another person like that?”

“Why should I care?” Chloe sniffed. “He came to me; obviously he wants to hear whatever I have to say, whether it’s nice or not,” Chloe looked the girl up and down. “And you’re one to talk. Since when have you been nice?”

“You should care,” the girl said, ignoring Chloe’s question, “because he’s a human being, and he deserves the courtesy of being treated like one, not some bug on the bottom of your shoe!”

“If he was a bug he would have been tossed out, along with the Jimmy Choos. I’m giving him the chance to walk away before I do that.” Chloe looked relaxed, checking her nails and jutting her hip out, but she was still standing--she was still ready for a fight. The girl stiffened, and her face turned red. Sabrina joined the table, on Adrien’s right. He was now boxed in and stuck in the situation. He tried to go back to checking his math.

“Chloe’s not some monster,” Sabrina defended. “Stop treating her like she is! She has a right to say she doesn’t like him.”

“Sure she does,” the girl nearly growled. “But she doesn’t get to talk to someone like that when all they’ve done is be nice. Or did you not realize that, Chloe?” The girl turned her gaze from Sabrina back to Chloe. “Could you tell he was being nice because he’s a good guy who wants you to feel included and less alienated? Did you get that, or did that not even occur to you?” the girl laughed in derision. “Of course it went right over your head. Is kindness even something you understand?”

Sabrina was about to say something, but the girl glared at her, and she shrunk back. It reminded Adrien of a turtle. Chloe’s ears were beginning to turn a faint shade of pink, and her fists were shaking. The teacher had walked in, took in the situation, then walked out, stating that he needed to go to the bathroom. Adrien cleared his throat,

“Now, that’s a little harsh, don’t you think? Chloe’s--”

“Stay out of this, boy toy!” the girl snapped, not even bothering to glance at him. Adrien frowned. Boy toy?

“Hey, I’m not--”

“Marinette,” Nino cut Adrien off. “It’s not that big of a deal. She says stuff like this all the time.” Nino pulled at her arm. Sabrina retreated back to her seat, and Chloe was slowly starting to loosen. Apparently, the battle was winding down, and Adrien was thankful. He still had an entire back page to check.

“I know she does!” The girl--Marinette--frowned. “But she can’t talk to people like that, and for some reason no one but me is willing to say that to her face!”

“It’s fine. Come on, you scared off the teacher again. Have a little coffee, that’ll probably calm you down.” Nino looked at Marinette’s desk, and Alya--the girl who’s phone he had destroyed with his Cataclysm--waved a thermos enticingly. Marinette’s body relaxed, and she nodded.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” She took a deep breath and straightened, heading back to her seat. Adrien wondered if she was going to apologize at all. She must have read his mind or something, because she turned and stared at him.

“I’m not going to apologize,” she declared. “Not until she apologizes for everything she’s said and done.”

The teacher walked back into the classroom, and the first lesson of the day began. It was a review of something his tutor had taught him a few weeks ago, so Adrien found himself zoning out most of the time. His mind couldn’t stray too far from the fiery girl with icy blue eyes. Her face had been so fierce, he could understand how nervous Chloe was when standing up against her, and her words had been so sharp that Adrien felt cut just standing next to Chloe. Yet, when he thought about what her point was, he couldn’t argue with her. Yes, she’d been unnecessarily aggressive when talking to Chloe, but he wasn’t going to argue with her and say that Nino didn’t deserve common courtesy.

He glanced at Chloe out of the corner of his eye. She looked like the teacher was saying the most interesting things she had ever heard, which is exactly how he knew she wasn’t paying attention to a single thing the poor guy was saying. Why hadn’t she just apologized? She had to have known she was in the wrong for treating Nino like that. He just couldn’t think of a possible reason she had been so combative--and he wasn’t sure he wanted to question her about it.

Adrien’s interest in the verbal altercation was slipping as the teacher droned on. He took a chance and glanced around the room. It didn’t look like anyone was paying attention, actually. The back few rows of the classroom all had their heads down, looking at something in their laps. The row in front of them had to be more careful, and ended up passing notes back and forth with their table-mates. Then there was the front row--the row in which he, Chloe, Alya, and Marinette sat. Alya seemed to be doing the reading for the next class, and Marinette was doodling. Chloe was simply spacing out. The teacher kept talking and talking...Adrien’s eyes fell lower and lower. Soon, he was asleep.

“Adricat!” Adrien woke with a start. Chloe was yelling in his ears, practically dragging him out of the classroom. “We have to go! There’s been an attack!”

“So soon?” He wondered. There had just been one a few days ago.

“Don’t question it,” she snapped. “We have to get to safety!” Chloe stopped, looking around. “Where the heck is Sabrina?” She turned and ran back. “Go to the bunker!” She called, not checking to see if he did what she ordered. Well, that solved one problem. Adrien ran to the bathroom and transformed. He leapt out of the building and extended the staff, looking around for the Makara.

The kids leaving school noticed him. Some kept running. Most paused, took a picture, then started towards the bunker again. Adrien didn’t even have the time to roll his eyes. He pushed off the staff, and headed towards the giant cloud of destruction.

This Makara was unusual. It had a piscatorial jaw, with thousands of razor-sharp teeth jutting out of its underbite. That seemed to be the only solid thing about it--the rest looked like a haze of fog.

He seemed to have arrived on the scene before Ladybug. Since he was no longer welcome to speak to the police, he decided to hit the Makara head on, just to try his luck.

“Cataclysm!” he cried, and color seeped away from his view of the world. He hung onto the staff with one arm and did his best to angle himself just right before launching at the creature. Then, a figure jammed into him.

“Oof!”

He recognized that voice.

“Ladybug?”

“No time,” she panted, and ran off. He turned to see what she was talking about and his jaw dropped. It was a hoard of pixelated creatures. They were all square and purple and shot orange circles from their mouths. The orange balls seemed to be explosives, since whatever they touched blew up. Hundreds of them were in the air, and they originated from a larger purple square. An Akuma. Adrien could see exactly what he needed to destroy.

Ignoring the Makara, he made his way to the Akuma. Ladybug was using her yo-yo as a lasso to round up as many of the tiny robots as she could. She used the ball of robots as a wrecking ball, bulldozing through more of the small robots. She was doing her best, and dozens of them were destroyed by each swing, but more were being produced each second. The little robots kept flying around the city. Some of them stayed close and fired at the Makara, some went for surrounding buildings, and still others flew off into the distance, where Adrien could no longer see them.

There was no use warning the Akuma of his presence, so Adrien simply leaped on top of it. The entire thing was shaped like a big purple box. It was unusual because of just how different it was from the usual Akuma, just like the last pink slime monster. Whoever was making the Akuma was learning how to make them stronger, and that did not bode well for Cat Noir or Ladybug.

“Cat Noir, watch--!” Ladybug called a warning, and Adrien snapped his head around to see what she was talking about. Three robots were in front of him, and he had nowhere to hide. They all shot out orange balls, and Adrien braced for impact. It never came. Ladybug had wrapped her yo-yo around him and pulled him out of the way. He got an idea.

“Swing me back!” he called. She started to do as he asked, but released him too early, and he crashed against a building. To keep his supercharged hand from touching the stone, he had turned to his side, and now his shoulder and hip screamed in protest. He turned to complain to his partner, but she was swarmed by the robots. Rubber shots were effective against them, but there were so many that the cops might as well have been individually picking hairs off of a cow while trying to shave it.

Adrien braced his legs and jumped back onto the Akuma. He realized that while it looked stiff and plastic, it was still covered in thick fur, and its face still had that strange red glow around it. The Akuma didn’t seem to notice him, it was too busy arguing with itself about something. Adrien didn’t eavesdrop long enough to find out what was bothering it so much, and used his Cataclysm on the Akuma’s jacket. It disintegrated, and a white butterfly emerged. The man beneath the Akuma fell like a rock, and Adrien reached out to grab him. His shoulder did not like this decision and let him know, but he couldn’t let go. He watched as the butterfly flew away, further and further.

“Ladybug!” he called. “The butterfly is getting away!”

“Little busy!” she bit out. “You could help, you know!”

Adrien tossed the man none-too-gently onto the nearest rooftop and went to help his partner. Or, he tried. They didn’t work together often, and that was painfully obvious in the ensuing tussle. Adrien quickly found out his fists didn’t do much other than annoy the robots, so he had to use his staff. Likewise, Ladybug was stuck using her yo-yo. Every few robots, his staff would knock her yo-yo out of the way, or her yo-yo would wrap around the staff.

“Get out of the way!” she called out.

“You’re the one who wanted help!”

“That was back when I thought you would actually be helpful!”

“Come to the ground,” the police called, and really, the two heroes had no choice but to listen to the command. They were getting nowhere in this alone. They touched down, and Cat Noir gasped. He turned and extended his staff.

“Oh, no you don’t,” an officer put her hand on Cat Noir’s shoulder, but that wouldn’t stop him. The staff extended, and she gasped, holding on tight to the superhero.

“That’ll teach you to tell me what to do,” he mumbled. She screamed. He couldn’t toss her onto a roof at the speed he was going, so he had to keep her with him. “Hey, keep an eye out for a white butterfly. No rush, but we have about six minutes. Well, I’ll need two minutes to get away--no rush, but we have four minutes.”

In the end, the officer was no help. She passed out, so Adrien was forced to carry her deadweight while searching for a single while butterfly. Ladybug flew past him.

“Your time is going to run out,” she said. “Give me the officer. What are you looking for?”

“The butterfly,” Adrien said. “Someone didn’t purify it when she had the chance.”

“Well, excuse me,” she snapped. “Someone was being mobbed by a hoard of exploding video game minions. Now stop and give me the officer, you’re running dangerously low on time if you want to get out of here without anyone figuring out who you are.”

The two of them landed on a building. He glanced her direction to hand the officer over and blinked. Her outfit was completely gray, her hair was burnt, and there was what looked like soot on her mask. “Geez, what happened to you?”

“One of the robot’s explody balls got me,” she grumbled. “I really hope transforming back will get this smell out of my hair.” She kept fiddling with her hair, but Adrien's focus was just past her shoulders.

“There it is!” Adrien cried, dropping the officer on the room. Ladybug turned and immediately threw out her yo-yo to catch it. Once purified, the butterfly flew out, just as white as it had been before. “It looks exactly the same,” Adrien mumbled. “How can you tell if it's purified or not?”

“You have one paw on your ring left,” Ladybug turned to pick up the officer. “I’ll deal with the cops today. I owe you for ditching last time.” Then she was off. Adrien couldn’t say anything to her anymore, so he turned and went home. He logged onto the Ladyblog, to see any footage of the day’s fight. Alya, the girl who ran the blog, had somehow put up cameras all over the city, and she always posted amazing pictures. The attack had only been quelled a few moments ago, and he knew that she likely hadn’t had the time to go through all the pictures she’d taken and post the best ones, but he was still disappointed when he didn’t see anything new on the website. He brushed his teeth, took a shower, and went to bed.

“I’m getting pretty fed up with you two kids,” Officer Perot growled as he grabbed his fellow officer from Ladybug’s arms. “Tell your partner that you’re done--no more playing hero for either of you.”

“I’m not playing hero, I am one. How could you have possibly handled today without me, without us?” Marinette was so used to having this conversation by this point that she was beyond anger and headed straight to mocking indifference. “The Akuma was saved by my partner. He went to go find the possessed butterfly. When one of your fellows decided to tag along, she fainted. And don’t think I didn’t see how badly you were struggling with the Makara--wouldn’t have been able to even touch without the Akuma’s minions swooping in an bailing you out.”

“That is none of your concern,” he lectured. “You are a citizen--a child at that! You need to leave this to the professionals. You and your partner are hardly the professionals you keep painting yourselves as. We saw you throw him into a wall, and we were the ones who ended up shooting down all the minions!”

Marinette opened her mouth to voice her rebuttal, but a soft sound stopped her. She turned. A man had exited the bunker. He looked around the street. His face was ashy and white, and Marinette couldn’t tell if he was going to pass out or not.

“Sir?” She heard a few officers call out to him. One had her pistol at the ready. Marinette approached the man. He had tears in his eyes.

“This was my home,” he looked at her, but he didn’t seem to see her. “Right there,” he pointed somewhere behind her, where only a pile of rubble remained. “Third story up, room 324B. I live--lived there. What am I supposed to do now?”

“You can lean on me,” Ladybug said, feeling her countenance soften. She wasn’t going to lie to the man and say it was ok, or it would all be over soon. She didn’t know that. She only knew the present, and at the present, she was there for him. "I'll be here."

All the officers in the vicinity had relaxed, and she felt them take a moment to look at the street around them. A few sat on the ground, unable to continue standing as they took in all the damage done to their once beautiful city. They could argue all they liked, but it wouldn’t do any good. Whether Ladybug and Cat Noir showed up or stayed at home, the streets of Paris were getting destroyed by monsters. Marinette wouldn't be able to live with herself if she did nothing when she had the power to do something.

The man wavered on his feet, but Marinette held him steady. He wouldn't fall. She would hold him upright. Ladybug would be there. He turned in a circle. 

"That used to be a cafe," he whispered. He didn't bother pointing, he wasn't talking to inform her, he was talking as a form of grief. "My daughter goes there every morning before school because she likes the boy who works at the counter." He kept spinning, and Ladybug kept her arm on his back. A few officers came out of a building, holding an unconscious man who must have been the Akuma. Ladybug didn't pay him any mind. "That used to be a book shop," the man's voice cracked, and he stopped moving. 

“My home,” the man whispered, and wrapped Ladybug in a hug. She didn’t mind. She could feel his tears fall into her hair, and his body shake with sobs. She swallowed. She couldn’t think of anything to say, and apparently, neither did the cops surrounding her. They all stood in silence for a long while.

(When the Ladyblog finally posted updates of the most recent attack on Paris, it contained footage from a bodycam worn by a cop. The video was grainy, and most of the words were hard to make out, but one sentence stood out to anyone who watched the footage: ‘You can lean on me.’ In the days and weeks to come, that phrase would become synonymous with the image of Ladybug. Ladybug, who at first appeared to be so hard and abrasive, also allowed herself to show compassion for those who had lost. Ladybug, who was quickly becoming Paris’s favorite hero.)

Chapter Text

Natalie’s heels clicked the floor in a steady rhythm in the hallway outside of Adrien’s room. He cringed and stood up to greet her at the door.

“Mr. Glasson will no longer be in our employ,” she said without preamble. She spun her tablet around to show a man in his mid forties. His hair was short cropped and graying at the ends, and he had not one sign of humor or compassion on his face. A cigarette sat between his lips, a leather jacket over his shoulders, and squinting blue eyes. “This is Mr. Dupord. He will be taking over for Mr. Glasson.”

Adrien blinked. “Who is Mr. Glasson?”

Natalie rolled her eyes, one of the few shows of emotion she allowed anyone to see. “Your bodyguard you call the Gorilla?”

“What!” Adrien yelled. “Why are we firing him? He’s a great bodyguard, and he’s been with me for--”

“Irrelevant,” Natalie looked down at her tablet and used her stylus to tap the screen a few times. “He has recently shown great incompetence when it comes to your care. As such, he will be fired.”

“He asked for a raise, didn’t he?” Adrien frowned when Natalie didn’t respond. She turned and started down the hallway. “The least you could do is answer me!” He yelled after her, but silently closed the door, knowing she was not going to turn back.

“The Gorilla got sacked?” Plagg came out from under the covers of his bed. Adrien nodded mutely, walking back into the room. He plopped down next to the black cat and shoved another twinkie at him. Plagg reluctantly ate it before he started grooming himself, like an actual cat.

“What are we going to do now?” Adrien moaned. “We’re getting a new bodyguard!”

“What’s the big deal? It’s not like you two shared any sort of special connection or anything. He wouldn’t even answer when you said the weather is nice. Strangers in a grocery store would talk to you more than he did!”

“Sure,” Adrien said. “But at least he was there. He was always there. I haven’t had a day without him since Mom disappeared. Now, he’s leaving, too.” He closed his eyes, trying to remember a day without seeing the big man. He couldn’t. It was easier to recall days without either of his parents than a day without the Gorilla.

“Come on, maybe you’ll really like the new guy!”

“That’s another problem,” Adrien closed his eyes to think. “He’s going to be new on the job. He won’t allow himself to cut corners, or slack off at all. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

“Uh oh.” Plagg said.

“Yup. No more sneaking away during Akuma attacks. Until I figure out a way to get this guy fired, Ladybug is on her own.”

“Louis the sixteenth was married to Marie Antoinette. He was the last king of France, and basically the reason the French Revolution started because he sent aid to the American Revolution and funded his efforts by taking out international loans which put France into a lot of debt,” Tikki continued to summarize Marinette’s notes, but it was almost impossible for any of the information to register. The kwami floated over her desk while Marinette spun lazily in her chair across the room. She could hear Tikki talking, but she couldn’t pay attention to listen to the words. It was like her brain sensed Tikki was talking about something boring and was doing its best to protect Marinette from the pain of having to listen to it.

“Did you get all that?” Tikki asked.

“Louis the...fourteenth was married to Marie Antoinette and--”

“The sixteenth, Marinette!” the kwami groaned in frustration. “The same number of times we’ve been over this!”

“I can’t help it!” Marinette groaned. “The number and the years just don’t stick in my head! I don’t know how I’ll be able to get all this memorized by Friday,”

“At least it’s only Tuesday,” Tikki tried to say encouragingly. “There’s a chance you’ll remember something.”

Marinette spun in another circle before standing. “Ok, time for a break.” Tikki flew up and rested on Marinette’s shoulder.

“Where are we going?”

“I think...the park. It’ll be nice to have some fresh air.”

The two of them left the house together, Marinette sporting a light purple dress with white accents, and Tikki hiding in her matching white purse. In her arms, Marinette held onto a sketchbook in case she came across any inspiration. For the most part, though, her plan was simply to wander through the park.

The park wasn’t as beautiful as it had once been. The ground had been broken up and destroyed by a Makara a few months ago, and the grass was still patchy. A few trees lay on their sides, and kids found it fun to climb through their exposed roots. Most of the flowers in the park had died, and the few which remained were in sad, sparse clumps. There were a lot of weeds now, and unruly bushes, but the city spent every spare cent it had towards the construction of bunkers, or fortification of existing buildings, so no one had come to take care of the greenery.

Marinette didn’t mind. She liked to look at the scenery, to remember what it had once been, and to imagine what it would look like once the Makara and Akuma were defeated once and for all--once she and her partner defeated them once and for all. She wasn’t the only one who still visited the park. Families with young children often visited, as did groups of teenagers who wanted to get out of the house and couldn't find anything better to do, and, as Marinette discovered, professional photographers for famous fashion houses.

There, in the middle of the park, was a full-blown photo shoot. The photographer was out-spoken, directing his model to ‘work it’ and encouraging them to continue ‘just like that’ because they were ‘marvelous’ or ‘perfect.’ Everyone who worked for the photographer seemed to be humoring him, and rolled their eyes behind his back. The poor model didn’t have a chance to do anything like that. He was stuck right in the photographer’s eyesight the entire time, forced to ‘feel the clothes and express them’ with no break. Marinette wandered closer and joined the small group of people who shared her curiosity. A man in a dark leather jacket sat off to the side, inside of the barrier dividing the public from those working on the photo shoot. He sat on a small stool, munching on a sandwich and constantly checking his watch for the time.

This was an Agreste shoot, as advertised by all the signs around the photographer and his workers. The clothing, though, left much to be desired. The colors were standard, the patterns were fine, the imagination was that of a first-draft design. It was all very blah and Marinette couldn’t believe that this was to be in the Agreste magazine.

“Hey, Marinette!” The model waved from his position. She waved back. The photographer yelled out a few profanities, angry about missing the perfect shot. Marinette shot Adrien Agreste an amused smile. She knew her aunt had warned her of him--something about his father being a thief? She couldn’t do that, though. He was an individual, and he deserved to be judged without having to worry about his father’s shadow hanging over him.

“Hey,” she greeted as he made his way towards her, moving closer to the boundary so she wouldn’t have to yell to be heard. The people around her noticed the familiarity she had with the model, and though some seemed as though they wanted to join her, to be close to Adrien as well, they stayed a respectful distance away. The photographer sputtered, and a woman with a bottle of water suggested a ten minute break. Marinette glanced at the poor man. “I think you broke him.”

“Nah, he came out of the box like that.” Adrien accepted a bottle of water from one of the workers and offered it to Marinette. A tall woman stayed next to Adrien, but she seemed to be busy with something on her tablet. Marinette ran her eyes down the woman. Her jacket and pencil skirt were tailored to perfection--not too tight, not too loose. The color was a rich gray, the type of color which only came from expensive material. Marinette didn’t have nearly enough extra money to buy such luxurious fabric, and if she did, she certainly wouldn’t waste the money on gray. Her shoes were sensible black pumps, completely professional and almost too appropriate for a day at work. The entire outfit was incredibly boring. The only flash of personality of color Marinette could glean from the woman was her hair. It was short-cropped, and a bright red hue lined the edges of it, almost like a blood-red halo. The professional woman didn’t offer an introduction, and neither did Adrien, so Marinette didn’t push for one.

“Thanks,” Marinette nodded, grabbing the water bottle from her classmate. Adrien stretched, obviously tired from staying in the same position for however long he’d been posing. Off to the side, Marinette noticed the man was looking at her, chewing his sandwich a little more aggressively than she thought necessary.

“What do you think of the clothes?” Adrien asked. Marinette flinched as she heard his bones crack. She opened the bottle and took a sip. She didn’t like the clothes, actually, but they were Agreste designs. There was probably something in the designs which she wasn’t seeing--something she wasn’t sophisticated enough to notice yet.

“Why do you ask?”

“You gave me one look and it kind of seemed like you ate an entire lemon. With the rind. My face is too pretty to get a reaction like that, so it had to be the clothes.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow, and even the woman standing next to him gave Adrien a look. “You’re pretty full of yourself, huh?”

“Not full of myself,” Adrien corrected. “Full of facts. I’m handsome. Why else would I be the coverboy of the Agreste brand?”

“Maybe because you’re the son of the founder and lead designer?”

Adrien was about to respond when another man joined him. The man who had previously sat in the corner. Evidently, he had finished his sandwich. He stood next to Adrien, but somehow seemed to angle himself so that he was between Marinette and her classmate. Adrien rolled his eyes.

The newcomer was a little taller than Marinette herself, but much broader. His frame was covered by a leather jacket. It was thick, had multiple pockets, and a few of the edges were frayed. His jeans fit well, and his shoes looked like they were made for running. His fingers were covered in a few silver rings, one of which had a green stone in the center. Around his neck hung a silver linked chain. It was a genuine style--more authentic and interesting than the clothes Adrien was wearing for the photo shoot.

“Ma’am, you’re too close,” the man said, blue eyes glinting down at her.

“Is your necklace from France?” she asked, opening up her notebook. “I would love to get one just like it. I love your whole style. Do you mind if I use it as inspiration for a design?” The woman next to Adrien looked up from her tablet, suddenly very interested in whatever Marinette was doing. Adrien tilted his head. He leaned over the man’s shoulders and glanced down.

“Is that your notebook? For designs?”

Marinette nodded. “I try to keep it with me at all times, in case I’m inspired, like right now.”

“Ma’am, I must insist,” the guard said, moving closer, slightly pushing Adrien back. An assistant made a dismayed sound and rushed over to make sure the clothes were in no way damaged, stained, or wrinkled.

“Would you mind if you just stood there, and didn’t say anything for a while?” Marinette asked. “I like your style, and I want to design something which evokes the same feeling, but when you talk I feel a little annoyed.” Adrien turned away, trying and failing to hide his laughter. The woman next to him was nowhere near as amused.

“Impossible,” she clipped. “This is Mr. Berhorst. He is Adrien’s bodyguard. If you wish to use him as inspiration, you will have to stand by me to do so. Mr. Berhorst, not another word to this young woman, she is my guest.”

The man’s teeth clicked as he closed his mouth, and he nodded. The photographer was getting worked up again, and Adrien sighed, moving back to his place in the photo shoot. Mr. Berhorst made to follow, but Natalie bid him to stay, to allow Marinette her inspiration.

“Why are you doing this?” Marinette asked. “I didn’t think someone--especially not someone who works for a major fashion house--would do anything to help me.”

“You’re the girl who won our last competition, aren’t you?” The woman asked. “Don’t look so surprised. Gabriel--that is, Mr. Agreste--had me look into everyone in Adrien’s class. I--we know how talented you are. Doing anything to impede that creativity would be a crime.”

Marinette smiled, pleased, and continued to glance at the bodyguard. The actual articles of his outfit were simple--just as Adrien’s were--but they all had an ounce of character, of actual use, attitude, and personality. She just had to figure out how to impart those characteristics in a design without the use of aged materials. The attitude had to come from her use of fabrics, stitches, and layering. Her pencil scribbled furiously over the page.

“You there!” The bodyguard barked, storming over to the barrier once more. “What are you looking at?” The innocent bystanders stared at the man, confused.

“It’s an open photo shoot,” one of the men said. “We’ve been here for close to twenty minutes; no one’s said anything before you.”

“I was on my lunch break,” the bodyguard growled. The photographer started shouting again, and Marinette could see Adrien’s cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Now leave. You’re all safety threats.”

“You’re in a park, in Paris,” A woman voiced, sounding irritated. “There’s people everywhere, and you can’t force anyone to leave. This is public property.”

The bodyguard’s eyes narrowed. “You have a point.”

“So we can stay?” The woman sounded victorious. That didn’t last long.

“No. We are leaving. Young Agreste!” The man’s voice echoed through the area, and the photographer shot him a dirty look. “Change your clothes. We are leaving in ninety seconds!”

“Ninety seconds?” The model seemed incredulous. The assistants looked at each other, wondering if they were to take the man’s words seriously.

“Eighty, seventy-nine, seventy-eight...,” The bodyguard kept counting, and Adrien scrambled to change. A few of the assistants moved towards the bodyguard, attempting to tell him how ridiculous he was being, but he didn’t even seem to hear them, instead opting to keep counting down. The photographer stalked over to the man and yelled in his face.

“Do you know how difficult it is to book me? I am the most talented photographer this side of the Seine! You have to know me for years to even think about booking a shoot with me, and it costs thousands of dollars to get my work looking as it does--do you understand exactly how much you’re costing your employer?!”

The woman next to Marinette seemed to freeze, and rushed off to the bodyguard.

“Mr. Berhorst,” The woman clipped. “The man is right. You were hired to keep Adrien safe, not to cost Mr. Agreste thousands when Adrien is in no danger.”

The man stopped counting and looked at the woman. His mouth thinned, and he grit out, “You hired me because your last guy couldn’t do the job. You might have been able to scare him off with talk of money, but not me. I’m here to keep the boy safe, and no one will stop me.”

Marinette watched as the people working on the photo shoot looked to the photographer for guidance. He glanced at the woman in the business suit, whose lips were pursed and whose ears were turning red. She stayed silent, and Adrien cautiously stepped out of the tent set up for him to change his clothes in. Mr. Berhorst walked over to him and apologized.

“Sir, I am sorry for not noticing the inherent dangers of such a public photo shoot earlier. For now, I will do the best I can to rectify the situation. I have called the car around, and we will be safe soon.”

Adrien blinked and followed the man out of the park. Marinette glanced at the people around her. Most of them had their phones out, recording the scene in front of them. Some of the people just stood there, curious to see what would happen next.

The photographer stomped to the refreshment table and flipped it over, sending cookies and juice flying everywhere. He ranted and raved, and Marinette felt more than she saw all the phones focus on his display of temper. One of his assistants went to calm him down, guiding him away from the shoot. A few more started slowly disassembling the set up, glancing at each other and murmuring about the strange day. One assistant started cleaning up the soggy chunks of sandwich and cookie that the photographer had sent throughout the park. Every once in a while, the assistants would glance down the path of the park that the young Agreste had walked down, almost as if they were hoping he would come back.

Marinette wordlessly shook her head and made her way back home. “Well, that was something,” she mumbled as she glanced at the sky. Still plenty of daylight. She could easily work on her design for a while before continuing to study for her history test.

After recounting the entire story from the park to her mother, and helping her father prepare a batch of bread for the morning, Marinette headed up to her room, too excited with new ideas of her design to even think of the French revolution.

“Father,” Adrien barged into his father’s study without knocking. Gabriel didn’t so much as look up at the intrusion. He continued to stare at the computer screen in front of him, cradling his jaw in his hands to support the weight of his head. By his right hand was a notebook, and he casually twirled a pencil through his fingers. “I don’t trust my new bodyguard.”

That got Gabriel’s attention. He straightened and turned towards his son. He squinted, and Gabriel took his glasses off, rubbing at his eyes for a moment.

“Why?” He asked his son. “Has he done something to you? Or allowed you into dangerous situations?”

“It’s easier if you see what I mean,” his son said grimly. His eyes were a bright green, just like his mother’s, but the set of his jaw and shape of his nose were all from him. Adrien--his little boy. Gabriel would do anything to protect his son. He stood up and nodded.

“Very well, let us go and see him.”

Adrien blinked, then nodded, a slight smile curving at his lips, his eyes shining bright. How long had it been since Gabriel had seen such an expression on his son’s face? Almost two years now, since Gabriel’s wife had disappeared.

“Ok,” Adrien said, almost bouncing on his feet, stuttering with excitement.“Let me go get a jacket!”

Gabriel turned back to the email he had been studying. It was from Natalie, and had a few images of very inventive designs. They were rough, still in the very earliest stages of design, but the creativity behind them was inspiring. How long had it been since Gabriel had been inspired enough to create something as innovative as the images in front of him. Natalie hadn’t named the designer who had made the sketches, but told him that she worked in the company, still a new designer. It was heartening, to see such talent from a young designer in his company.

Gabriel sent Natalie a response, telling her to encourage the designer to keep working at it, that there was real promise in the designs. Then the door opened, and Adrien rushed in, his bodyguard now behind him. Gabriel studied the man closely, then looked back at the rough sketches on his computer. Though the designs on the screen were different from the clothing he could see on the man in front of him, they seemed oddly similar.

“Are you ready to go?” Adrien asked, his voice oddly flat. Gabriel nodded and stood up.

“Where shall we go?” He questioned as he led the way outside. He noticed the bodyguard, Mr. Berhorst, continuously tried to squeeze his way in front of him. It was annoying, to be sure, but nothing truly dangerous--nothing to actually put his son in danger. Gabriel hoped that his son was overreacting, that Gabriel hadn’t exchanged his old, faithful bodyguard with this new German fellow due to a false complaint from Natalie. He hoped that Mr. Berhorst would prove to be capable, able, and reliable. Something in his gut, however, made him fear that was not to be the case.

“I think we should go to the park,” Adrien said, and Mr. Berhorst stiffened.

“Young Agreste,” the man said. “As I noticed and advised you this morning, the park is an open area, full of potential danger and threats. It would not be safe for you to go there. Perhaps we could go to the backyard, if you wish to be among trees.”

Gabriel raised a brow. It was interesting, to say the least, for a bodyguard to attempt to dissuade their charge from going somewhere as mundane as the park. It was even more interesting that Adrien chose the park if he had already been there that morning.

“You were in the park this morning, Adrien?” Gabriel asked, moving towards the front door and waiting for the car to arrive.

“Yes, we had a photo shoot for the Agreste catalogue scheduled.”

“Ah, yes,” Gabriel smiled. “With Monsieur Couture, correct? How did it go? Did the pictures end up as well as they always do, or better?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Adrien shrugged as the three of them entered the car. “The photo shoot got interrupted, and I had to leave early.”

“Adrien,” Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “It took months to even get an appointment to set a date with Monsieur Couture, and thousands of dollars to secure his time--and you threw all that away because one of your friends came and distracted you?” His words were sharp, but they seemed to bring an air of joy into Adrien’s face. On his other side, Mr. Berhorst shifted. Gabriel paid him no attention. His face was beginning to heat up, and a tension headache threatened to pound his temples within an inch of their lives. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you this, Adrien, but this was no simple photo shoot. It was a photo shoot for the spring catalogue of Agreste--it takes months of work, even after the photographs are taken, edited, and sent to us. It is what defines our brand, it gets us into the public on an annual basis. I will not have you laughing about this matter as though you were a mere eight year old!”

“Oh, I wasn’t the one who interrupted the photo shoot, Father,” Adrien did his best to look like he was suppressing a smile. “Mr. Berhorst got in an argument with a few of the bystanders, determined we were in a compromised location, and ended the photoshoot early.”

There was silence in the car. At one point, the driver had to cough, but he attempted to suppress it. Gabriel felt a vein in his forehead throb.

“Mr. Berhorst,” he began, but he found it difficult to continue. There wasn’t much Gabriel was good at, and he’d easily admit that. But fashion was his life. Agreste was his legacy, it was his entire life’s work, and it was what kept food on the table and highly sought after clothes on Adrien’s back. He had run Agreste for a long time; he knew how to keep it going, and how to make it succeed. He had poured years of his life into this company, and now it seemed that a mere bodyguard thought he knew better than Gabriel. The fury that encompassed Gabriel made it hard to think, let alone keep himself from shouting at his employee. So he said nothing, and the tension in the car thickened. On his left, his son gazed out the window and hummed a happy tune.

“We’re here,” the driver coughed. All the passengers stepped out.

“Woah there, sir,” Mr. Berhorst pushed a civilian back. Gabriel’s jaw fell to the floor. He had been in plenty of crowded situations before, where crowd control was necessary. He had been to TV show recordings, cinematic releases, and red carpet events. He’d, of course, had bodyguards present to keep him safe. He’d never, though, seen one push a civilian away for no seeming reason. “You’re too close,” Mr. Berhorst reasoned and pushed the man away again. The Parisian landed on his behind, and looked confused for a second. Then, like any good Frenchman, he was furious.

“How dare you!” He yelled, springing up. A woman stood by his side, hands on her hips. “What kind of buffoon thinks he can step out of a car, shove a respectable man to the ground, and get away with it? Who do you work for?!”

Gabriel’s ears burned, and he couldn’t believe this incident would soon be tied to his name. The man continued his tirade, and the woman yelled alongside the man, who seemed to be her brother. Mr. Berhorst did not offer so much as an apologetic look.

Adrien stood by his father’s side, and Gabriel looked down.

“Put that away,” he snapped, snatching the phone out of Adrien’s hands and attempting to delete the video his son had been recording. He couldn’t figure out how. He handed it back to his son. “Delete that video.”

“I can’t,” Adrien shrugged. “I’ll need it to convince you to rehire the Gorilla.”

“That video won’t be necessary,” Gabriel seethed as he pushed his way towards his bodyguard, who was now trapped in the center of a curious and slightly indignant crowd. “Mr. Berhorst,” Gabriel called out. Said man turned away from the red-faced, furious man he had, once again, shoved to the ground. “You are terminated from your position. Contact Natalie for your paycheck.”

He then grabbed his son, sat in his car, and texted his instructions to Natalie. This was ridiculous.

The driver stopped in the center of the road, and streams of people rushed away, towards the nearest bunker. The city-wide alarm system rang out. Adrien sprang out of the car, dragging his father with him.

“We need to get to safety!” His son said, following the flow of people. Gabriel couldn’t think of anything to say, but Mr. Borherst did.

“Stand back!” He followed two generations of Agrestes, trying his best to push the crowd of people away from the father and son. “You are too close!”

Adrien rolled his eyes, and Gabriel felt the grip Adrien had on his arm loosen. He was immediately pushed away from his son by the crowd of people. Gabriel hated to admit it, but there was a sense of relief that they were separated. He headed towards the nearest alleyway, now sure to be completely devoid of human life.

“Mr. Agreste!” Mr. Berhorst’s strong grip clamped on Gabriel’s shoulder, and he turned, shocked to hear the man’s voice.

“Mr. Berhorst? You’re fired,”

“It’s my duty to keep you and Young Agreste safe.”

“Stop calling me ‘Young Agreste!’” Attached to Mr. Berhorst’s right arm was Adrien, looking very much like a petulant child. A woman holding her young child bumped into the boy, and Mr. Berhorst barked at her. She was gone before two words had left his mouth. The crowd around them continued to flow, and the three of them went along with the pulse of the people.

The bunker was full by the time the three of them arrived, and Ladybug was fighting the Makara. Some people pointed out that there was no Akuma this time. Strange. Very strange. Adrien kept looking up at the sky, continuously struggling to keep out of Mr. Berhorst’s grip. For a man of relatively short stature, Gabriel noted begrudgingly, he surely did have a surprisingly strong grip.

Ladybug and the police of the city continued their fight with the Makara, and Gabriel, Adrien, and Mr. Borherst continued their quest to find a bunker with space enough for them.

In the end, they just ran around the city until the Makara was defeated. Gabriel was so tired and out of breath that he couldn’t find the energy to do much more than call for a car, and ignore whatever else came out of Mr. Borherst’s mouth. If the man would not leave until he was paid, Gabriel would be sure to instruct Natalie to give him his money first thing in the morning.

Marinette stared into space, trying to mentally revise for the history exam the next day. All the names and dates blurred together into a strange, boring, flavorless smoothie in her head. That, in a nutshell, was what history felt like to her. And here she was, hour four, still trying to figure out the basic timeline of the French Revolution, and what was so significant about the major players in it.

“Marinette!” Tikki’s small voice sounded desperate, and she jumped to the side, just as the Makara smashed its arm into the space she had been just moments before.

“Ladybug!” Her partner landed next to her. He was out of breath, and his dark hairline seemed almost greasy with sweat. “What’s the matter with you?” He asked, apparently too tired to have any common courtesy. “You could have been killed!”

The police shot at the Makara, and the two heroes jumped so that they stood behind the officers. A few weeks ago, they hadn’t thought to move, and a bullet had lodged itself into a building uncomfortably close to Ladybug’s leg. Since then, they had made a point of standing behind the officers as they fired. Ladybug’s mind spun.

1788 was the beginning of it all because France was poor, she spun her yo-yo for speed and looped it around the Makara’s horns. Oddly enough, they stuck out of the creature’s hips. 1789 was the year the Revolution began. The rulers of France at the time were...she ran up the Makara’s spine, doing her best to keep balance as it writhed like a snake beneath her. Louis the fourteenth... she ignored the little groan Tikki gave inside her head, and his wife, Marie Antoinette. She used her yo-yo to clamp the creature’s mouth shut.

The police continued to shoot at the creature, and Cat Noir was at the base of the Makara, doing his best to keep it from moving forward at all. It was particularly different with this one because there were no legs to tie up--it was one long, worm-like creature.

Marinette kept recounting all the facts she could recall from her history textbook as she abandoned the creature’s mouth. Instead, she wrapped her yo-yo around the creature’s tail and pulled. The Makara started, and started to topple over. Cat Noir used his staff to get all the cops out of the way of the Makara’s massive body. Police then began to move in, firing shot after shot at the creature's eyes and mouth. Marinette’s arms shook with the effort it took to keep the tail from moving at all and allowing the Makara the freedom of movement again.

“Cat Noir!” She called, and he landed next to her a moment later.

“Anything you need,” he said, helping her pull the tail back towards the Makara’s back. “I’m here.”

“What happened in 1793!?”

“What?”

She grunted as the creature jerked in one last effort to free itself. Then it began to dissolve. Both heroes fell towards the ground, landing on their backs. Both groaned simultaneously, and a few policemen and women came to check on them.

“Were you serious about the history question?”

“Dead serious,” she felt tears sting her eyes as she rubbed the back of her head. “Is my head bleeding?” Her partner leaned closer and parted her hair.

“A little, but it’s not too bad. We’ll definitely be bruised tomorrow, though. Why do you want to know about 1790?”

“1793,” she corrected, wincing as she stood up. She held out a hand and helped him up. He grunted, rubbing the side of his thigh.

“I guess a lot of stuff must have happened? I think that’s the year Marie Antoinette was beheaded, if that’s what you forgot?”

Marinette frowned. “Thanks. I think that’s what I wanted to know?” She shook her head and turned to go. He held her back, pursing his lips.

“Sorry,” he swallowed. “That I wasn’t here earlier this week.”

“Don’t worry about it,” She waved him off. “You’re my partner, not my employee.” She hoped she got her point across. He didn’t answer to her, she didn’t answer to him. If he did something he thought was wrong, or that he felt guilty about, he’d just have to make it up later, and same for her. By the look in his eyes, it seemed he understood what she wanted to say. Marinette glanced to the side, and grinned. “The Akuma victim is still looking shaken,” she gestured towards the ice cream vendor. “Why don’t you help him? And while you’re at it, you could probably talk to the police, right? Thanks, I have a history test to study for.”

And she was off.

“Gorilla!” Adrien called, ecstatic to see the familiar face again. He didn’t expect the man to respond, so he plowed forward. “I’ve missed you so much!” He almost hugged the tall, broad man, but held himself back. The Gorilla nodded towards the door, and the two of them headed outside, towards the car. “It was only for a few days, but I’ve realized that for the past two years, you’ve somehow been more present in my life than my father has. And you’ve always been around more than mom ever was.” Gorilla opened the door for his young charge, and Adrien stayed silent until he was seated and settled in the driver’s seat. “I know we don’t talk, and I know you’re paid to watch after me, but I truly mean it when I say I missed you.”

The man said nothing, and the drive to school was silent, as always. The joy Adrien had felt at seeing his childhood bodyguard was dimming, slowly replaced by embarrassment and hurt. He opened the door.

“See you when I get out of school,” he mumbled.

“I--”

Adrien paused and looked at the driver. This was shocking. He couldn’t remember the last time Gorilla had spoken. That was part of the reason his younger self had nicknamed the poor guy ‘Gorilla.’ Because he looked like a human, but was stronger than six men, and didn’t speak a word. Also, Adrien had loved the movie Tarzan, and for a while wished that everyone in his life was a gorilla or animal of some sort.

“I missed you, too.” The man glanced back at Adrien, and Adrien couldn’t keep the smile off of his face.

“Maybe after school we can grab some snacks before going back home?” Adrien asked hopefully. The Gorilla nodded, and Adrien nodded back, almost giddy with the amount of communication.

He stood up and made his way to class, where he suddenly realized there was a history test to be taken in a few minutes. He rushed to his seat and threw his bag to the ground, checking the time. Ten minutes before class. Like everyone else in the room, he flipped open his textbook and becan cramming every name, fact, and event he possibly could into his brain.

Louis the sixteenth, Tikki whispered in her ear. There were perks to having magical earrings in which a magical ladybug could reside. Marinette had found that, just like in battle, Tikki could rest in the earrings of the Miraculous, just like a pokemon could rest in a pokeball. The difference, however, was that Tikki could actually talk to Marinette, and Marinette would be the only one to hear her.

One more page, Marinette, Tikki said softly. We’re almost done. As it turned out, helping Marinette so much over the past week had had one benefit. Tikki had memorized almost the entire chapter of the textbook, and now Marinette was reaping the benefits. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried to study for the test--she had, truly--but Tikki appeared to have had a better time retaining any of the information. If you want a realistic grade, go for an 85%, so make four of your answers incorrect.

(The next week, when everyone got their tests back, Marinette was announced in front of the whole class to have the highest grade.)

Chapter Text

Like all Makara attacks, this one started with the sensation of the air becoming heavy, humid. Sirens had sounded, and people had run. The police had mounted their horses and taken off, trying to get to the Makara as fast as possible. Less than ten minutes after the Makara showed up, Ladybug and Cat Noir entered the scene. (Nothing else that night could be called routine. Though no one knew it yet, there was change in the air. They would see soon enough, if they had enough energy left to open their eyes).

“The Akuma will show up soon,” Marinette called to her partner. “We have to try and subdue the Makara.” Cat Noir nodded and flew off, his staff a convenient tool for moving large distances. Marinette followed close behind, swinging on her trusty yo-yo. The buildings around her crumbled, the streets were torn asunder, but that didn’t matter. Safety mattered. Buildings could be rebuilt, people could not be.

The Makara looked ahead of them, larger than most, and Marinete steeled herself against the stench. Usually, the smell of old fish was the worst part when dealing with a Makara. It assaulted her nose, and her eyes watered. She couldn’t be distracted though, she had a job to do. She swung closer, not even bothering with the head. The police and the two superheroes had a fragile routine: the heroes would subdue the Makara, the cops would shoot until it dissolved. The heroes would save the Akuma, and the police could deal with the aftermath of it all.

She swung her yo-yo around the Makara’s two legs. It was not unusual for a Makara to have two legs; she had seen all manner of Makara--two legs, four legs, no legs. Something about this creature, though, seemed different. It was, as she noted earlier, larger. It almost reminded her of a large bird, but with fins on the side. Strange silver droplets fell from it, coating the street in a strange water. The closer she got to the Makara, the more miserable she felt. It was almost as if it was draining the very fight out of her. The water-like substance flooded the streets, and Cat Noir tested one of the puddles. He looked at her, shaking his head. It wasn’t sticky, like Mylene’s slime had been. What exactly was this thing?

Marinette pulled at her yo-yo, but the Makara was too large for her to simply bring down. She’d have to go for its head. She swung her yo-yo up, and it wrapped around the bird-like creature’s body. She gagged as she landed on its back. No feathers for this bird, only fish scales and a heavy odor. The Makara moved, but its size hindered its speed. As long as she was careful, Marinette wouldn’t fall.

Above, dark clouds rolled in, and it started to drizzle. She scowled at the sky. Like she didn’t have enough to deal with: a Makara, an Akuma, and now rain? By the looks of it, it might just be a storm. She hadn’t heard anything about a storm coming in. Then again, the morning weather report had been odd. Two girls had been competing for the spot of the news channel’s weather girl. She hadn’t watched the whole thing, but she was pretty sure neither girl would get the position as the weather girl--though, from the fight she had witnessed on the screen, either one of them could have had a promising boxing career.

The rain came down heavier, and Marinette reached the Makara’s neck. Like a stork, it was long and thin. She used her yo-yo to wrap around and pull herself up. It was getting harder and harder for her yo-yo to find purchase, but that didn’t matter, she couldn’t give up. The neck seemed to be the source of all the strange water, and the higher up the creature’s neck Marinette climbed, the more her misery grew. It was more than misery--it was a sense of complete dread. Her body suddenly weighed a ton, and all her shortcomings came to mind.

She grit her teeth and pushed on. It didn’t matter if she was finding it hard to breathe--she had a job, an obligation. She couldn’t fail the millions of people relying on her to keep them safe. She kept climbing, cursing when the strange silvery water made her slip back to the bottom of the creature’s neck. It kept ambling along, and with each failure to see the top of the neck, to find its head, Marinette felt more and more of her energy leaving her body.

“Ladybug!” Her partner leaped to her side. “There’s something wrong with the water.”

“I know,” She panted. “I’m exhausted.”

“No,” he said. “It’s more than that. I couldn’t tell you exactly what it is, but everyone who’s been near the water, or touched it has been...different.”

Marinette couldn’t even find it in herself to question what he meant by that. She pointed up the neck. “Do you think you could get to the head? I’ll hold your staff. Trust me, you don’t want to touch its neck. I think the head is the water’s source, and the neck is absolutely drenched.”

Cat Noir looked at her for a moment, but nodded. His staff extended, and he hung on to the top. She kept it steady, feet slipping on the wet scales of the Makara’s back. The rain steadily got worse, nearly drowning Marinette as she held the staff. The wind picked up, the staff wobbled. Cat Noir dropped down next to her, his face white.

“There’s no head,” he said, voice shaky.

“What do you mean?” She asked, frowning at him. “Let me go up, I’ll check.”

“No!” His eyes were panicked, and he clung to her shoulders. “You can’t. Don’t go up there. There’s no head. No face. No eyes, no mouth.”

“No weak points,” Marinette squeezed her eyes shut. “We have to tell the police.”

The rain was now a downpour, almost painful as it came down. The police’s teeth were chattering, and Marinette went to tell them the news of the Makara when the Akuma appeared. Marinette couldn’t be sure, no one could ever be sure, but it seemed as though the Akuma was one of the girls from the weather station fight that morning.

Cat Noir jumped after her, hitting the girl with his staff like a baseball bat. He sure did like to do that. The girl went flying, and Marinette struggled to catch her breath. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out how or why the Makara's water was hindering her as much as it was.

“Stay away from the Makara,” an officer ordered when she got the story out. “It’s too dangerous for you to go up without a backup plan. Keep the Akuma busy.”

And that’s what they tried. For close to an hour, Marinette obeyed the police’s course of action. She watched as building after building was destroyed, the sense of dread and defeat rising up within her. She was a hero. She had been given these powers for a reason, she was sure. And, she was useless. She couldn’t do a single thing to help those people down there. She had absolutely nothing she could do. What was the point of being called a superhero if she couldn't be a hero, if she couldn’t save anyone?

She ran through the streets, eyes to the sky for the Akuma. As fast and turbulent as the winds were, they didn’t seem to bother her one bit. In her hands was an umbrella. She swung it in a circle, almost bored, contemplating what to do next. Marinette flung her yo-yo at the umbrella, hoping against all common sense that the Akuma wouldn’t see the bright red yo-yo sailing towards her, and would allow herself to be defeated. It didn’t work out that way. Marinette jumped, using the extra strength afforded by the suit and the transformation to get close to the Akuma. She was flung to the ground by a strong burst of wind.

Her partner came back from trying with the Makara again. He was so stubborn. He kept going back, knowing that the police wouldn’t allow him to help, knowing there was nothing he could do to help. He glanced at her. Though thirty feet away, she could see the fear in his eyes. And then she felt the anger rising up inside of her. These damned Makara and Akuma. They came more frequently now than they had a few months ago, and it was taking a toll on everyone. She wouldn’t have it--she couldn’t stand it anymore. He went to attack the Akuma, but it held out the umbrella, both hands on the handle. A strange smell gathered around her, and there was a flash at the end of the umbrella. Marinette couldn’t look; it was too bright.

Marinette’s exposed skin stung as the rain continued to pelt down from the dark skies. Thunder rumbled in the distance, horses squealed in fear, and the police shouted orders at each other. Marinette rubbed the water out of her eyes and flicked the short, red hair out of her face. Next to her, the building rumbled and her partner slid down from where he had landed.

Cat Noir had a scratch running down his neck, and blood slipped out of it. A strange feeling of guilt rolled through her stomach, adding to the rising anger she felt towards the Akuma. Cat Noir might be her partner, but she had been doing this longer. No one had told her so, but she knew, deep down, that it was her duty to protect him. And right now, she was failing miserably. She felt hopeless and pathetic, and the foreign feelings were not welcome; they sparked inside of her, driving back the odd helplessness she’d felt whenever she glanced towards the Makara.

She glanced to the side, where the Makara was slowly trudging through the street. Again, she couldn’t help but notice how strange it was, compared to other Makara. Long legs reminded her of a bird, which held up the circular, solid body on top. This one had two fins on its side, almost like ostrich wings, and no visible head on top of a short stump of a neck. Silvery liquid flowed freely from the creature, and it felt like the water was running down her own back.

Thus far, the cops had aimed for eyes and mouths when trying to defeat the Makara. With those targets unavailable, they had been having quite a difficult time figuring out a new strategy. Well, it was late, and she was done waiting for them. She’d tried to respect their wishes, done as they’d asked, distracted and attempted to defeat the Akuma while ignoring the Makara. For some reason, that wasn’t working, and they couldn’t think of a new plan. Marinette would simply have to think of one for them.

“It shoots out lightning,” Cat Noir panted, looking as exhausted as she felt after looking at the Makara. The air around him smelled like ozone, and his suit seemed to smoke a little. “Her stupid umbrella shoots lighting.”

“Interesting,” Marinette mumbled, glancing around the gray city. She had decided earlier that it was too dangerous to swing around. The rain made it hard for her yo-yo to grip onto anything. She hadn’t felt like breaking an arm, so she had been stuck running for the past hour as she and Cat Noir had attempted to subdue the Akuma.

Marinette took another glance at Cat Noir. His teeth were chattering, his black hair plastered around his face, and she couldn’t even tell how many bruises he had. Suddenly, worrying about a broken arm seemed trivial. He was her partner, he relied on her. It wasn’t fair to him to hold back her powers on the off chance she might get hurt. It also wasn’t fair to him to have a partner who wasn’t totally there during the battle. The influence of the Makara continuously made its presence known, and it took a great deal of willpower for Marinette to stay standing, to not just sink to her knees and weep. What was going on with that Makara?

“You can’t stay here,” Marinette said firmly. “Leave.” Her heart pounded in her chest. The Akuma could shoot out lighting and fly. The Makara was basically undefeatable. She couldn’t allow him to stay. On one hand, she wanted to see him turn around and propel himself away with his staff; she wanted him to go towards safety, away from her pathetic attempts at heroism. On the other hand, she desperately wished he would stay, tell her he had a plan to defeat the Makara. She knew neither outcome was likely. Her mind spun, looking for possible ways to get out of this fight in one piece, and victorious.

“Well, I can’t go there, either,” he motioned towards the Makara. “Believe me, I tried. They just run me away, and I’m tired of arguing with people who are supposed to be on my side.”

“No, I know that,” Marinette rubbed her arms, shivering. She made the mistake of looking towards the Makara. Suddenly, her mind was void of the battle, and overtaken by her innermost desires. She wished she were in bed, wished this was someone else’s responsibility, wished the Akuma wouldn’t have made it rain so close to winter. And with those desires came the realization: she was…

Marinette shook her head, tearing her gaze from the strange Makara. She needed to focus. One thing at a time. “I mean, you need to go home.”

Cat Noir narrowed his eyes at her. “You know that’s not going to happen. I fought too hard to be accepted as your partner, and you’re not going to push me away now.”

“You’re in danger,” she said crisply, pulling out her yo-yo. She’d been playing it safe for an hour. Broken bones be damned, she’d end this and see that Cat Noir would go home. “You’re hurt. You need to leave.”

“I’m fine,” He insisted. “You’re in danger, too,” he pointed out, flicking her forehead, right on a newly formed lump. She winced and scowled at him. “Frown all you like, but shut up. I’m staying.” He leaped away, staff extending to propel him along. Marinette glared. Stubborn boy. She’d just have to end this as quickly as she could; she needed to keep him safe. She wasn’t sure why, but somehow, it was a priority for her. Tikki tried whispering something to her, but it was somehow impossible to hear over the rapid beating of her heart. She was...

The Akuma flew overhead. Just like most of the other Akuma, it was covered in hair, and wings sprouted from its back. A telling red glow lit on her face. Other than than, however, she wore a surprisingly frilly dress, and in her hands was an umbrella. Marinette pursed her lips. Apparently, one which could shoot lighting. Inspiration, like lighting, struck.

With a vague plan forming in her head, she took a chance and leapt into the air, throwing her yo-yo towards the Akuma. Just as before, she knocked the magical instrument out of the way. Cat Noir came up behind Ladybug, caught her, and continued towards the Akuma.

“Careful,” he mumbled softly. He landed on a balcony and set her down. He was obviously not happy with her, but that didn’t matter. They were partners. You protect your partner, no matter what. If only he would let her protect him, if only he would leave and let her handle this--she could figure this out without him.

“My yo-yo is useless today,” She groused, fingers numb from how cold she was. “I need to get close, though. That’s the only way this will work,” She rubbed her face, trying to clear her vision. A small roof gave her a moment of respite from the relentless rain. She glanced at the sky. The Akuma was still flying, occasionally flying to the clouds and making it rain harder or softer. If all weathermen had that sort of power, they might actually be accurate in their predictions once in a while.

“Sounds like you have a plan, and seems like you forgot to let me in on it,” Cat Noir was watching the Makara with a grim look in his eyes. His voice trembled, and she knew exactly how he was feeling as he watched the Makara. The strange emptiness, the melancholy--she had no idea why the Makara would inspire such feelings. It stomped on another building, all the bullets reflecting off its oddly scaly body. Cat Noir’s green eyes glowed in the gloom of the day, his face bleak. She reached forward and pulled at his face. He couldn’t look at it--it would trap him.

“We need to get the Akuma to blast the Makara.” Marinette said to her partner. She couldn’t honestly see much of him past the mask and the long, unruly hair, but she could see enough to notice how tired his eyes were. He was exhausted. The Makara had that effect. He should just leave, just go home. Irritation sparked within her. Why the hell could he never listen to her?

Cat Noir nodded. “Don’t be mad--I’m about to throw you.”

“Wha--aaaaaaaa!” She didn’t mean to scream, really. It was just hard not to when she was suddenly hurled through the air towards a powerful Akuma which could aim lightning at people and beat you with an umbrella. She crashed into the Akuma and both of them tumbled towards the ground. Marinette fought with everything she had to keep the umbrella pointed away from her and towards the Makara. “Just shoot it,” she demanded impatiently, but the Akuma had no intention of listening to her. Just like a certain partner of hers.

The Akuma righted herself and flew into the air, Marinette hanging onto her legs. Cat Noir was probably trying to think of a strategy for the Akuma, or he would have been right there with her, trying to help her. Marinette dragged herself up the Akuma’s body, tossing her head so her hair wouldn’t block her vision anymore. The hairs which covered the Akuma’s skin prickled at her face, and she had to resist the urge to scratch her cheeks.

The red covering the Akuma’s face glowed brighter for a second, and it seemed like someone else controlled the umbrella. The young Akuma spun to face the Makara. She leveled the umbrella towards the creature, and lighting shot out the end of it.

The blast hit the Makara, which stumbled back. It crashed into a building, stone and metal falling to the streets, and the ground trembled. Then, an eerie sound echoed through the city. It couldn’t be from the Makara--logically, she knew that. It didn’t have a face, let alone a mouth. It couldn’t be making the noise. It was impossible. Something inside of her, though, told her that it had to be. The deep sound rumbled throughout the city, seeming to originate from nowhere and yet surrounded her completely.

For a second, Marinette was trapped. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think. There was nothing inside of her, like she was a shell of a human. Just an outline of something which used to live. The city was covered in gray clouds, rain pelted the asphalt and buildings below, though the sound was muffled, muted. Every few moments lightning flashed and thunder was soon to follow. The giant Makara was little more than a looming silhouette in the distance. The sound it made...she could feel not only her own hair stand on end, but also the hair on the Akuma.

The moment passed, and Marinette was freed. The sound of harsh rain came back at full force, and Marinette shivered. What had happened? Those emotions…they were not her own. Disgust rolled through her body, the violation disturbing her more than she would have liked to admit. To ignore the Makara and its ongoing wail of sorrow, she gladly welcomed the distraction of the Akuma.

The Akuma held the umbrella like a bat and swung it at Marinette’s face. This was her chance. She grabbed it and pulled, using her other hand to desperately fling her yo-yo to the side. She prayed it would catch on something, anything. The sound coming from the Makara continued to echo through the streets, grating on her and inspiring an irrational fear. The Akuma glowered down at her, the buzz of its wings impossible to hear over the howling of the wind. Marinette glared right back, outraged that the Akuma had the nerve to look at her like she was a nuisance. The growing anger warred with the dampening sorrow from the other creature.

Her yo-yo went taught, probably caught on a lamppost. She pulled with her arm, the muscles burning with such extreme use. Her legs caught the wire, and she attempted to pull the two of them towards the ground, like she was climbing a rope in gym class, but with just her legs. The Akuma pulled away from her, its wings working furiously to be free, its body wriggling in attempt after attempt to unlatch Marinette. Ladybug grit her teeth; she would not allow this thing free, not when she had it in her grasp.

The string jerked, and her gaze went to the end of the yo-yo. Three cops were doing their best to pull her down, but they were struggling. The Akuma’s wings were strong, and the wind seemed to be trying to keep the two of them in the air.

Another body slammed into the Akuma, and Marinette feared that she would be hit loose. She let go of the yo-yo and clung to the umbrella for dear life. This probably wasn’t the smartest choice of action, but she hadn’t had much time to think through her options. Her hands tightened on the umbrella, and she knew that if she fell to the ground from this height, she likely wouldn’t survive.

She pulled at the umbrella, distracting the Akuma, and Cat Noir aimed his staff at a nearby building. It extended, and the three of them were forced through the air, only to crash into the side of a building. Cat Noir grunted. He had taken the brunt of the hit. The Akuma used him as a cushion, and Mariette clung to the Akuma. The staff was like a shower rod. One end of it rested on the building opposite them, the other rested just below Cat Noir’s legs. He sat on the staff, struggling to keep his balance with the Akuma determined to get away, and Marinette hanging onto her. He groaned, and wrapped one arm around the Akuma’s wings, keeping her pinned against him. Marinette saw a glimpse of another bruise on the side of his head. She should have forced him to leave. He shouldn’t be here. She felt an irritated vein throb at her temple. She wanted him to leave--to be safe; didn’t he care about himself at all?

Marinette, seeing the Makara’s unencumbered movements through the city, renewed her determination to destroy the thing, struggling against the renewed wave of sorrow which threatened to overcome her. She tried to call forth anger. If fear was as cold as the rain, anger would be fire. How could she allow herself to become this weak? She had been given this power, she had the lives of not only herself and her partner in her hands, but also those of her friends, her family. She would allow herself to fail them because the Makara had doused her with magical sad water? Absolutely not. She used all her strength to pull at the umbrella and aim it towards the creature. The Akuma, desperate to keep it on her person, yanked on it with both hands. The umbrella warmed, and a flash of light exploded from the end of it.

Shouts of dismay and shock were heard from the ground, and Marinette blinked in disbelief. Next to the Makara had been a building. It would have been destroyed, had the umbrella done what Marinette had expected it would. Instead, it was now completely encased in a thick layer of ice.

“Ice?” She demanded, resisting the urge to throttle the Akuma. “It shoots out ice now?” Marinette grabbed the umbrella, doing her best to wrestle it free from the Akuma. Something shifted, and Cat Noir’s arms trembled.

“Calm down!” Cat Noir yelled over the sound of the storm. “You’re slipping!” It was true. She couldn’t use her hands to grip onto anything, so she had wrapped her legs around the Akuma to keep her up. Unfortunately, the exhaustion which came from the Makara was making its way deep into her muscles and bones. Her legs were giving up, and she was gradually slipping down, away from the Akuma and her partner. Cat Noir reached down to pull her up, letting go of the Akuma’s wings. The Akuma let go of the umbrella with one hand, about to press it on Cat Noir’s chest as a way to push off, to get into the air again. Marinette pulled herself up and her head crashed with Cat Noir’s face. She ignored his cry of pain and twisted the hand away. Her head throbbed, but she forced herself to focus instead on the task at hand. Keep the cat safe, keep the Akuma from harming him.

“Go home, Cat Noir,” she seethed, trying to keep the hand away from herself and her partner, and having mild success. “Listen to me. It would be better for us all if you weren't here.” Obviously, he didn’t leave. Why would he have listened to advice which was for his own benefit? Only fools do that, apparently.

“I’m not your employee, remember?” He growled, and Marinette didn’t have it in her to say any more. She was exhausted. She blinked the rain drops out of her eyes, and Cat Noir reached down to the umbrella. She pushed him to the side, once again aiming the umbrella away--back at the Makara. The red light around the Akuma’s face lit up again, and both hands were on the umbrella. Marinette took a chance. For a split second, her hands let go of everything they were holding onto. Her balance wavered, her heart beat rapidly in her chest, and her breathing came out in short gasps. Then, her hands were over the Akuma’s. Woah. That had not been fun. She would definitely go out of her way to never do that again.

It took everything in her to not recoil at the odd, hairy feeling of fur covered hands. Every last reserve of strength was sent to her hands, and her legs loosened further. Cat Noir, ever faithful and helpful Cat Noir, reached over the Akuma and held her up by the back of her costume. Her legs danged in the open air, but not for a second did the fear he would drop her. She did fear that more ice would come out of the umbrella instead of the lightning they so desperately required.

Waves of heat traveled through the umbrella, and dozens of shots of lighting were fired at the Makara. The stench of the Makara was fading away, and with one last hit of lighting, it disappeared completely. Marinette could physically feel a layer of heaviness, of dread, lift off of her shoulders, and it was suddenly so much easier to breathe.

The light around the Akuma’s face once again dimmed, and her face scrunched into a scowl. It let go of the umbrella with one hand, and reached towards Cat Noir. Marinette planted her feet on the side of the building, readjusted her grip on the umbrella, and pulled it away from the Akuma. Bracing her hip against her partner’s staff, she swung it and hit it on the Akuma’s head. She fell to the ground, where she was immediately taken into police custody.

Marinette started falling, feeling completely liquid. A hand clutched at the back of her suit again, and she was suspended in air for a moment before she collected herself, grabbed onto his staff, and pulled herself up to his level. They both dropped lightly onto a balcony a few dozen feet below them.

“We have to purify the Akuma,” he mumbled, sounding pained. She winced. His nose was bleeding and he pinched it to try and slow the flow.

“Why did you stay? I told you to leave.” Marinette didn’t have the energy to put any bite behind her words. She covered her eyes with her hand. The cold and wet hair was giving her a headache. “You need to listen to me next time I tell you to go.” She stopped talking. She felt him tense next to her, and she could tell he was angry. Cat Noir put his hands over hers, the suit’s sharp nails digging into her fingers.

“You said we were partners,” his voice was hard. “Partners don’t just abandon each other when things get hard. I’m not leaving, so stop asking me to!”

“Come on,” she mumbled, shaking her head. Just a few more minutes, then she could go home. She was so tired, and so disappointed in herself. She remembered the feeling of the Makara. She doubted she would ever forget. She had been besieged by wave after wave of emotion she usually left for others to feel. And through it all, she had been forced to accept it. She was… She shook her head, water dropped from the ends of her hair. “We should get someone to look at your nose.”

“Hold it!” He didn’t let go of her hand, and she didn’t want to fight him. She was just too tired. She just wanted to leave, as soon as possible. “Quit ordering me around!” he ordered. “You’re not the boss here, Ladybug, and I’m tired of you acting like you’re better than me!”

“I don’t think I’m better than you! I’m not!” Her eyes and tone sharpened, her muscles tensed, and she took a step forward. She looked at his face again. “Not at all.” She looked away. “Partners look after each other,” she choked out. “Look at you.”

Her eyes scanned the city. The rain continued to pour and kept any dust from the destruction from flying in the air. The fresh smell of the seashore wafted through the air, and Marinette felt an inexplicable sense of emptiness and loss.

It was the silence. Since the first hit the Akuma had landed on the Makara, the Makara’s song of pain had echoed through the streets of Paris. Now it was gone. The song had been so invasive--it had forced Marinette to confront what she did not want to know about herself. She had hated the song, was disgusted by what it had done to her. Yet, now that it was gone, she wanted something to fill in the silence it left behind.

She shivered as she remembered the noise, the monster, the overwhelming sense of hopelessness. The only reason they even defeated it was because of the easily manipulated powers of the Akuma. She studied her partner. Her battered, bruised, bleeding partner. What would have happened if the Akuma hadn’t been there? His eyes, previously a hard, neon green, somehow seemed to have softened.

He stared at her for a second, silent. The police seemed too tired to tell them to hurry up and purify the Akuma. Marinette took another breath, closing her eyes. The rain pattered around them. The roof of the building they were on had been damaged, so the droplets landed on her already soaked hair.

“You were right,” she said. The adrenaline from the fight was wearing off. Her muscles were jelly, and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep her eyes open. “We need to go down there and purify the Akuma.”

“You’re shaking,” he said quietly. His grip on her hand loosened, but she didn’t pull away. She didn’t want to. For some reason, the idea of being even the slightest bit further from another person right now seemed like a terrible idea. She was so cold, she wanted that warmth. She was...

“So are you,” she said, speaking slowly thanks to her numb lips. “It’s cold.” Marinette felt tears sting her eyes. She blinked them away, hoping he hadn’t seen.

The constant battling with Makara was not easy. They were huge, destructive, and did not hesitate the slightest bit before harming anymore. Dealing with Akuma at the same time was proving to be a little too much. She was just so tired. More than anything right now, she just wanted to go home. She wanted to be with her parents while they made hot chocolate and sat together to watch a cheesy movie. She wanted to smell the proving bread, hear her mom argue with her brothers.

Having the power to control the future of her city was a great privilege, a great burden, one she was no good at. Her city was slowly being destroyed, and nothing she was doing was helping--not even a little. And on top of failing to save Paris, she couldn’t even protect her partner.

Cat Noir shook his head. “No, it’s different.” He studied her, watching her closely. Her muscles shook. Suddenly, just standing was exhausting. She wanted to leave. “Sorry I was so angry. I didn’t realize…” He was silent for a moment, and she felt him tremble, too. The Makara’s song weaved through her head again, and she hated what it made her feel, what it made her realize. She was...“You were afraid?”

“I still am.” She dreaded the next Makara attack. Each creature was unique, and horrifying, and she had nightmares from some of the battles. If she never saw another Makara again, it would be too soon. But that wasn’t to be the case. No one knew what the Makara were, let alone where they came from. There was no way to defeat them without getting to the source.

They didn’t say anything more for a while, just stood in companionable silence on the balcony. Eventually, the Akuma came to, the police insisted that the two of them come down and do their job. Cat Noir held the umbrella the Akuma had been yielding, attempting to break it in half.

“That won’t work,” an officer called from the side. “We already tried--” The man was interrupted by the crack of the umbrella. Marinette’s muscles screamed in protest as she threw the yo-yo up to the air, purifying the butterfly.

“Hmm, maybe you weren’t trying hard enough?” Cat Noir grinned tiredly at the officer. The man frowned and started to say something, but one of his brothers in blue put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head.

“He’s just a kid, Claude. He’s been out here for a while, let him be.”

Both officers walked away. Ladybug and Cat Noir turned to the victim of the possession. They usually were very confused and liked to talk to someone before going home. Cat Noir’s ring beeped.

“I have to go,” he turned to her. She nodded, embarrassed about earlier. She did her best to act as though nothing had happened.

“I’ll stay with her for a while. I don’t have a time limit today.”

Cat Noir looked up at the sky and opened the umbrella in his hands. “It doesn't look like the rain will let up any time soon,” he said. “I’m not sure if you’ll be dry when you transform back, but in case.” He handed her the broken umbrella. “Take care, Ladybug. You’ll be ok. I’ll make sure of that. Both of us--we’ll keep each other safe.”

(Almost an hour later, she was free to detransform. Shockingly enough, she transformed back completely dry. As she walked home, she held the umbrella over her head. The broken stick dug into her palm, and it was an ugly orange color, but when she entered her house, she couldn’t bring herself to throw it away. It remained tucked in her closet, away from questioning eyes, for many more months.)

“You’ll like her,” Marinette said. “She doesn’t go to our school, but she used to be Kim and my neighbor when we were kids.” Alya nodded, studying her phone. “She might seem really serious at first, but don’t let that get to you, she--”

“Look!” Alya thrust the phone in Marinette’s face. Marinette pushed the phone away from her eyes.

“Stupid youth; spending so much time on your phones really messes with your manners,” she took the phone from her friend’s hand and scanned the page on display.

“Alright, Grandma,” Alya rolled her eyes, still obviously excited for Marinette to see whatever was on her phone. “But look! Over 1000 likes on my latest post! And almost 600 comments! My blog is taking off!” She squealed and practically jumped with excitement. “I never thought I’d get this kind of attention! I mean, I’d hoped, obviously, but I never actually thought it would happen!”

“Congrats,” Marinette said absent-mindedly, scrolling through the blog. Red, red, red everywhere. She looked up, “Where’s Cat Noir?”

Alya raised an eyebrow. “He’s in a few of the pictures. I can show you, if you want.”

“Can you have more of him on the blog? It’s...Ladybug doesn’t work alone. She has a partner.”

Alya snorted. “Yeah, but it doesn’t really seem like she wants him there.”

Marinette kept her mouth closed. There was really no way she could refute that statement without Alya figuring out she was Ladybug. And that would be terrible. Marinette would never be caught dead in that outfit. Someone would have to torture her before she admitted that she had been the one crusading around Paris in a literal ladybug spandex suit.

“Well, I like him,” she said. “Can you put more of him on your blog? You’ve got cameras all over town, so I bet getting pictures won’t be that hard.”

Alya smiled at her, a cheeky glint in her eyes. “You think he’s pretty,”

Marinette blinked. Whatever reaction she had expected from Alya, that had not been it.. “No! It’s just...your blog is about the heroes of Paris--Cat Noir should be there, too.”

Alya continued as if Marinette hadn’t said anything. “I’ve got to admit, the whole ‘all-black-leather-badboy’ image sort of gets to me, too. The blog could definitely use the eye candy.”

“He’s not just eye candy,” Marinette defended. “He’s a vital part of Paris’s defense against the Makara and Akuma! He’s loyal and dependable and he tries his best,” Marinette turned away, ears burning in embarrassment, “He sticks around, even when Ladybug yells at him and tells him to leave.” She couldn’t believe she spoke to him like that. In fact, she couldn’t remember a single nice thing she’d ever said to him. Poor guy, she’d try to be more patient next time, less harsh.

Alya grinned, bumping her with her shoulder. “Someone has a celebrity crush!” she sang out. “And it’s not meeee!”

“Who has a crush?” A new girl joined the group.

“Don’t you start,” Marinette glared at her. The new girl looked a lot like Marinette. Her hair color was the same, her sense of style was the same, and they were similar heights. Back in elementary school, Chloe had forced the two girls to play together all the time, saying that Asians should stick together. It had been a horrible thing to say, but Marinette hadn’t bothered picking a fight about it because it had been more fun to play with Kagami than argue with Chloe.

“Alya, this is Kagami. Kagami, this is the new girl in our class. She’s a nerd like Max, but she hides it better.”

“You made a friend?” Kagami asked, surprised. “And it wasn’t a dare, bet, or because you were put in time out until you were nice to her?”

“Ok,” Alya laughed. “That was oddly specific, and I need a story.”

Kagami nodded. “Of course. Have you met Kim? Marinette used to chase him around our neighborhood throwing sticks at him like spears. He ran to Mr. Dupain crying, and he put her in time out until she learned to play nice.”

“Oh my god,” Alya breathed, eyes twinkling. “You’re a gold mine! I need more stories! And pictures, if you have any.”

Kagami nodded once, as serious as if Alya had proposed a business deal. “You will buy me lunch?” Alya agreed, and the three girls were off, Marinette suddenly kicking herself for introducing the two to each other.

“What were you saying about Marinette liking someone?” Kagami questioned later in the afternoon, tilting curious eyes at her childhood friend.

“Alya is just being stupid,” Marinette grumbled, still feeling betrayed by Kagami’s loose tongue. She had sworn she would never tell anyone about the bird in the cupboard story, or how she’d laughed so hard at Mr. Brodeur’s face that she had peed herself. Yet, the stories had been spoken of, and now Alya knew.

“It’s Cat Noir,” Alya said, sipping on her drink. “It’s one of those celebrity crushes, but its cute.”

“It’s not a celebrity crush!”

“Uh huh, sure,” Alya said before turning to Kagami. “She was going on and on about how pretty he is--”

“That was you,” The other girls ignored Marinette.

“--and how loyal and hardworking or something.”

“Well, it’s true!” Marinette defended. “He’s been trying to help every since he met her, and he doesn’t back away when she yells at him, and any time he talks to the Akuma victims, he’s so kind and patient, and he’s just so nice in general and--”

Kagami was staring. Marinette cut herself off and clenched her jaw. She forced herself to sip her iced tea.

“You’re right,” Kagami said, sounding awed. “I can’t remember she had a celebrity crush who wasn’t a designer of some sort.”

“At least our girl has good taste,” Alya said, sliding closer to Kagami to show her pictures of Cat Noir she’d been filing through to post on the blog (“thanks to a request from a certain someone.”)

Marinette shook her head. They didn’t know what they were talking about. She didn’t like the guy, she just admired him. He had been unfailingly loyal, so determined, so present. She knew she could count on him, no matter what. Even when she was in a bad mood and snapped at him, he was there for her, and he would never leave her to face danger on her own.

He’d said...he’d said they would protect each other. That meant he would protect her, and allow her to protect him. A warm glow settled in her chest. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had offered to protect her. Her mom certainly hadn’t thought such promises necessary since she had gotten her tattoo and spent a few summers with her uncles and their families. Her friends had never seen her in a position where they would need to look after her, and neither had her family. Even Aunt Marie, as protective as she was, had never said she would protect Marinette; she had only given Marinette the advice she deemed necessary for a successful future.

She smiled to herself. It was nice, knowing that someone out there was thinking of her safety and worried for her. It certainly made it better that he had such a sense of humor. All the odd remarks about the Akuma, the quick rebuttals he had for the police--if she wasn’t so stressed out whenever she transformed, she would have loved to just talk to him, to hear more of his jokes, to hopefully make him laugh at hers. She wanted to sit with him, to talk to him, get to know him, go on dates--

Marinette choked on her tea. This was awful. Alya was right. She liked the guy. She slammed her head onto the table. Neither of her friends even looked at her. Some friends. Now what was she supposed to do?

She took a deep breath. She’d simply have to act like it wasn’t there. It was impossible to date him, she didn’t even know who he was, and she wasn’t about to ask. If she asked him, he would ask her, and she’d already decided that until someone tortured it out of her, she would not admit to wearing that god awful spandex suit. She would simply have to get over it. It would be easy.

Chapter Text

Nino had never been the type of guy to let what others say bother him. He couldn’t be, with someone like Marinette Dupain-Cheng as one of his best friends, and Chloe Bourgeois as the love of his life. If every harsh word hurt him, he would never have been able to see past all of Marinette’s snarky words, or Chloe’s disgusted attitude towards him. Honestly, he didn’t mind if people were critical, he didn’t mind--that was their opinion and they were entitled to it. Sometimes he just wished people didn’t have such negative thoughts about his music.

Music had been Nino’s passion for years, since his Aunt Renee had bought him a simple music program. He had immediately fallen in love with the freedom of being able to mix his own music, and make sweet tunes which suited his style. Every song he created had a little piece of him in it, and sometimes it hurt just a little when the people who listened to his songs didn’t understand the intent of the song, or couldn’t jive with the vibe, or simply didn’t like it. He’d known that he’d opened himself up to such criticisms when he’d started posting his mixes online, but he hadn’t anticipated that half of the responses to his music would be so disparaging.

His email pinged, and Nino clicked on the notification. A smile stretched on his face. Jagged Stone was in town! He had to get tickets! Nino went to the website he used to buy tickets and paused. How many tickets should he buy? He’d originally just planned on one, but maybe this was the universe’s way to apologize for how much hate Nino’s music had been getting lately. His heart rate sped up just thinking about his plan. Inviting Chloe to a Jagged Stone concert sounded like a dream--especially if she said yes. Should he do it? He couldn’t. But what was the worst that could happen? She already belittled him at every opportunity, an invitation to a concert couldn’t possibly make it worse. In face, the worst that could happen would be her saying no, and she already said no to dates all the time.

He clicked the ‘add seat’ button. His total went up and Nino’s bank account started crying. He paused before checking out. She always said no when he asked her out alone. Maybe she’d say yes if it wasn’t just the two of them. She’d mentioned something about the new kid, Adrien, being her childhood friend. Nino hadn’t talked to the guy, but he seemed nice enough, but his ‘golden boy’ energy had been a little too strong for Nino to stomach the idea of talking to him one on one. He’d just have to suck it up for a few hours, because if he showed up, Chloe would likely come to the concert. He added another ticket to the concert. The new total almost gave him a heart attack, and that was the moment Nino’s wallet died. He forced himself not to care. Nino was sure it would be worth it.

Nino was no stranger to Chloe Bourgeois. She had been in his class since elementary school, and he knew the type of person she was: lazy, selfish, and mean. Anytime there was a team project, he’d prayed to anyone who would listen, begging to not be paired with the blonde slacker. The powers above had faithfully listened to his requests every time, every year, until his second to last year of high school. He had not been happy.

He and Chloe had been partnered together for a history project. They would have to study an event, write a paper on it, and make a display on a board. The teacher had given the class two weeks to work on the project and, knowing he would have to do the work of two people all by himself, Nino had been planning to start working the same day the project had been assigned.

Honestly, he’d had no expectation of Chloe. He thought that she would leave him to his work, maybe ask him if he’d finished, sign her name on the parts of the project, and then take whatever grade he’d earned for the two of them. She surprised him, though, by approaching him in the break between classes.

“Don’t think you’re going to be messing this up for me, Lahiffe,” she’d sniffed. “I need a good grade, and I’m not about to let you drag me down with you. Today, after school, you and I are going to the library. Don’t even think about bailing.” She didn’t say anything else. Sabrina came up to her, and then the two girls had walked away. Nino had been a little too confused to even ask which library she’d meant. He’d shaken the encounter off, figuring Chloe was all bark and no bite. She wouldn’t come, so it wouldn’t matter if he asked her which library she was talking about.

School ended, and he packed up to go home. Chloe strutted to him, a hard look in her eyes.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she frowned, hands on hips. “Library, now.”

He apparently didn’t have a choice. The two of them had worked in silence. She looked up a few credible sources online while he’d tried to find physical books on the subject. The fact that she had even showed up, that she was actually working on the project, had astounded him. As they sat together, Nino couldn’t help but look at her and wonder if she was actually working.

“What?” She’d snapped as he stared at her curiously. “I always knew you weren’t the brightest bulb in class, but could you at least pretend to work?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m just, uh,” he averted his gaze from her icy eyes and decided to check any response he’d gotten on his latest song. His shoulders dropped. He had a few loyal ones in his following, but a lot of people just listened to his work to call it crap. He was getting really tired of it.

“Bad comments on your dumb songs?” She’d asked, her tone not nearly as sharp as it had been moments before. He’d nodded. Nino wasn’t the kind of guy to keep secrets--he was an open book. His friends didn’t even need to ask him to see what he was feeling. Likely, he’d let you know about it before they had even realized there was a problem.

“Yeah. I post them on this website, see? You can share your music, podcasts, whatever audio file you make. It’s really cool. People can also comment on your stuff. Lately, I’ve been getting a lot of hate, and it’s starting to really get to me. I guess I’d better quit.” He looked up at her, hoping for something encouraging, but not really expecting it.

“That’s just stupid,” she’d scoffed, tosssing her hair. “You’re going to let other idiots influence you and your hobby? Either you’re dumb enough to let them influence your feelings, or you’re not nearly as passionate about your stupid music as you come out to be.”

It hadn’t been the first time someone had told him to ignore his haters, but for some reason, when Chloe said it, it hit differently. He’d stared at her a little longer.

“You’re actually giving me advice?”

“I give everyone advice,” she hadn’t looked up from her computer. “It’s not my fault no one else is smart enough to follow it. Now get back to work, I don’t want to do all of this by myself.”

He didn’t get much work done that first day. He didn’t get much done the second day, either. Her attitude towards the project had simply been too surprising for him, it was weird. He wasn’t sure what to make of it.

In the end, he simply accepted it, no questions asked. He wasn’t like his other friends--he didn’t like confrontations. He was more of a ‘go with the flow’ kind of guy. Chloe cared about her grades? Good for her, he’d pull his weight in the project, get good marks, and then the two of them would never have to interact again.

Surprisingly, the thought of never talking to her again had bothered him. Yes, her words were as waspish as ever, and she rarely seemed to have the patience to have normal conversations with him, but hidden behind the attitude were thoughts he didn’t necessarily disagree with. Yes, they could be worded differently, and she could care more about how she affected others around her with the way she spoke to them, but Nino could look over that just to hear her thoughts. Day by day he kept trying to draw her into conversation, to see what she would think of his absent parents, his prodigy sister, or the fact that he had been raised by his two aunts. Any time Nino spoke, Chloe had shut him down. By the time the two of them turned their work in, Nino had been convinced that his one inspiring conversation with the girl was a fluke. After printing the paper and handing it to Chloe, he had sat down at his desk and hadn’t spared her a second glance. He wouldn’t have thought twice about her if it weren’t for what happened two days after the project had been turned in.

Their teacher at the time, Mr. Delecour, had called the two of them to his desk after class. He had looked troubled, and a quick glance at Chloe told Nino that she had no idea why they had been called up, either.

“Do you know why I’ve asked to speak with you two?” The relatively young teacher had asked.

“Obviously not,” Chloe retorted. “Now get to the point--I don’t have all day.”

“Ms. Bourgeois, this is a serious matter,” Mr. Delecour had frowned. “I’m afraid it’s come to my attention that the two of you may have cheated on the history project.”

Nino felt his heart beat faster, and his palms were damp. He hadn’t done anything, but being accused of cheating was no small matter. His parents already thought little of him as it was. If it came to their attention that the school thought he was cheating, he’d never hear the end of it.

“Are you as stupid as the rest of the kids in this class?” Chloe demanded before Nino could apologize, or plead that there must have been a misunderstanding. Her fists found purchase on her hips, and she glared down at the teacher. “I am Chloe Bourgeois. I am pretty, I am popular, and I am not stupid. Do you honestly think I would stoop so low as to cheat to get my grades? This is ridiculous!”

“I don’t mean to offend, Ms. Bourgeois,” Mr. Delecour had soothed. “And your innocence does not extend to Mr. Lahiffe, your partner.”

“I didn’t cheat,” Nino offered lamely, ears burning. He wiped his hands on his pants. What else could he say, really?

“Of course he didn’t cheat,” Chloe fumed, her hands now on the teacher’s desk. The teacher was looking less and less tolerant of her behavior by the minute. “Lahiffe might not be intelligent, but he cares what other people think of him, especially his two stupid parents. Just saying the word ‘cheating’ in his house would have him kicked out. There’s absolutely no way he did anything dishonest for this project--especially since he knew it would be linked to my name. Who told you we cheated?”

The teacher started to answer her, but Nino was too busy trying not to cry. She wasn’t nice, she didn’t sugar coat anything, and she didn’t give people the common courtesy of using their first names most of the time. Still, she had listened. When he thought she was annoyed with him and had ignored everything he had said, she had listened and remembered what he said, and knew how he felt. A surge of affection rose in his chest towards her. After this, he would ask her on a date. Hopefully, she would say yes.

“There you have it!” Chloe smacked the table with her palm. “Couffaine and Kurtzburg never do their work on time, and they always cheat on your lame pop quizzes. They probably looked at our things and copied them, then went to you first so it wouldn’t look like they were the victims! I bet you didn’t even investigate before calling us up--this is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!”

Chloe and the teacher had argued for a while longer until Mr. Delecour gave up. He had sent the two of them on their way, promising to look into Juleka and Nathaniel’s project. Nino couldn’t find it in himself to care about that. His thoughts were entirely on the feisty blonde next to him.

“Hey, Chloe?” He asked, not even able to wait until they had left the building. She didn’t pause in her walking, or even look up from her phone, but he knew she was listening. “Do you wanna maybe...go on a date with me?”

“You’re insane if you think you’re in my league.”

Since then, Nino had asked her out countless times, and the answer was always a firm ‘no.’ He never overstepped his boundaries--a no was a no, and he knew that. Still, she hadn’t ever told him to stop asking her. He would keep trying, at least until she told him she didn’t like him, didn’t want his attention, didn’t want him to talk to her again. He really hoped that wouldn’t happen. He really liked her.

In the year since the history project, he had come to notice and appreciate so much more about Chloe Bourgeois. He saw how confident she was in herself, yet how she seemed to relate to those who had no self-confidence. He saw how she tried to give advice and her input to people who were struggling, even if her words weren’t always helpful. He saw how she stood up for her friends, and stood up for herself. He admired so much about her. One day, he hoped she might admire something about him.

Before that, maybe she would agree to just go to a concert with him, even if she had to come with a friend. Sure, it wasn’t ideal to hang out with the girl he liked, along with her childhood friend, but he would take what he could get.

Nino checked his phone again. No messages from Chloe, and the concert was going to start in twenty minutes. Checking in and finding their seats would take about that much time, and as much as Nino liked Chloe, he was not about to miss any part of Jagged Stone’s concert, especially considering how much money he’d dropped for the tickets.

He checked his phone again. Still no messages from Chloe. His heart dropped. Couldn’t she at least have told him she wasn’t going? He could have sold the ticket back. But, no, of course she didn’t. This reeked. Nino’s emotions went through the familiar roller coaster. He was angry with her, of course he was. Still, she had the right to say no. If she didn’t want to come, though, she should have said so, not just left him hanging and hundreds of dollars poorer than he had been a week ago. Yet, he knew, through all the disappointment and anger, that the second he saw her face again and heard her speak to him, he would forgive her. It was pathetic, really, but he simply couldn’t help himself.

Nino joined the line, staying on his phone to keep from feeling like a loser.

“Nino!” A voice called out, and Nino’s head snapped up. There he was, in all his beautiful model glory--Adrien Agreste. Nino waved him over, and the two of them stood together in line.

“Sorry I’m late,” Adrien apologized. “My father was having a tough time letting me go.”

My father? Nino inwardly cringed. Who spoke like that anymore? Nino and his own dad weren’t close, but he’d never called the man ‘father.’ Just hearing the word made him feel like he was in one of those Victorian set dramas his Aunt Leanne loved to watch.

“No worries, Dude. When’s Chloe coming?” Nino tried to keep the hope from rising in his chest, and tried not to sound too hopeful. He failed on both accounts. Adrien looked away uncomfortably, and the fragile hope blooming in Nino’s chest shattered. Nino sighed. “She’s not coming?”

“I tried to get her to come,” Adrien tried to console. “She said she doesn’t like Jagged Stone. I thought that was ludicrous, but Chloe’s stubborn, you know.”

“Dude,” Nino said. “Chill out.”

Adrien blinked. Nino rolled his eyes and elaborated.

“We’re at a rock concert. You can’t be saying things like ‘father’ and ‘ludicrous,’ you’ll embarrass me.”

“Do you know anyone here?” Adrien asked.

“Well, no.”

“Are they going to remember you?”

“Listen, that’s not the point,” Nino lectured, showing the woman at the front of the line their tickets. “We’re at a Jagged Stone concert. I had a feeling Chloe wouldn’t come, even though I really wanted her to. I’m not going to let her make my night miserable, and I’m not going to let your diction embarrass me.”

“I’m not the one who said ‘diction,’” Adrien mumbled, following Nino to their seats. The concert was about to start. The opener was just finishing her final song, so the crowd was all warmed up.

“Just do what I do, ok? The less uncomfortable you are, the more fun you’ll have!”

Honestly, Nino hadn’t expected much out of Adrien. The guy was wearing a sweatshirt, jeans, and sneakers, but somehow he looked so polished and out of place it made him want to tell the guy to leave. But, he wouldn’t do that. Adrien came, and Nino was determined to show the guy a good time. Maybe then he would tell Chloe what a cool guy he was, and she would accept when he asked her out next. Also, Adrien just seemed like the kind of guy who didn’t have many experiences. It was sad. Nino might not be friends with him, but as long as they were attending the concert together, he would make sure Adrien had the time of his life.

Avril Butler, the lead singer, came out on stage, and the crowd went wild. It was so loud Nino couldn’t hear what he was saying. It didn’t matter. He screamed louder, and was shocked to hear Adrien join the crowd. Avril eventually gave up trying to say anything and went straight in for the first song. It was an old one, way back from his first album. The screams from before were nothing compared to the noise level right then. He singing, and everyone sang along. Song after song, Nino jumped, danced, and screamed along to the words. The lights changed colors, dancers came on stage, and the members of the band had little jokes and stories to tell between the songs. It was awesome, and Nino couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun.

The music kept blasting through the speakers, and Nino knew he wouldn’t be able to speak the next day. He didn’t care! About halfway through, Nino looked over at his companion. Adrien had taken his sweatshirt off, and was now just wearing a simple black t-shirt. He was jumping in place, screaming the words to the song. He must have noticed Nino staring at him, because he bent down and started dancing while screaming the words in Nino’s face. It was weird, wild, and totally unexpected. Nino grinned and yelled the words back.

Song after song, Avril Butler kept his energy up, and the crowd loved him. Jagged Stone wasn’t such a popular band just because of their good music and inspiring lyrics, but also because of how darn charming every single member of the band was. Nino wished the night would never end.

“Alright, Paris,” Avril panted as the concert was about to end. “I know its been a tough few years, and it doesn’t look like things are getting much better. But remember, we’re Parisians--and no punk ass monsters are going to do us in!” The band started the last song of the night. It was a slower song, more heartfelt, and every single person in the stadium new the words by heart. Jagged Stone had released the song after the first Makara and Akuma attack--the one which had taken the most lives. The song had unofficially become the song of hope to Parisians. Even people who didn’t like the band knew the song, and children sang it every day in elementary school.

A few girls to his left started crying, but they kept singing along. The crowd was silent for a moment after the song, as was customary.

“Thank you, Paris,” Avril murmured into the mike. Then, his smile returned, along with his earlier energy. “Thank you, Paris! Here’s a special surprise for you all: we’ve been talking to our manager and studio, and it’s been decided: we’ll be coming back to Paris more than we ever had before! In our darkest times, music can be the light we need. Never give up hope, Paris, and we’ll see you soon! We love you!”

The crowd cheered again, and Nino got hit in the head with an ‘I <3 Jagged Stone’ poster.

“Come on!” He screamed, getting Adrien’s attention. “We have to leave before traffic gets too bad!”

The two of them left the stadium. It was a shock to be in such a crowded, humid, high-energy environment, then walk out a pair of doors and step into a calm night.

“Do you need a ride home?” Adrien asked, gesturing towards an incoming bike. It seemed like a regular pedicab, the only mode of transportation in Paris these days, other than walking or riding a horse. The bike was driven by a big man in a suit, and Adrien greeted him by calling him a gorilla. Weird, but alright.

“Sure,” Nino agreed. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. The adrenaline from the concert was still pumping through his blood. Apparently, Adrien felt the same way, because as soon as they sat in the car, and Nino had told the driver his address, Adrien turned and started gushing about the concert.

“I didn’t think to check the setlist before the concert, but I totally should have! They played Cherry Vanilla and Not The Last Night one after another and I almost passed out from excitement!”

“Dude, I totally feel you! And the acoustic rendition of Youth? Avril Butler has such a beautiful voice I almost cried.”

“I’ve never screamed that loud or that long in my entire life,” Adrien grinned at him, falling back in his seat. “Do you hear this? You’re the first person to hear me sound like this. Thank you so much for inviting me out!”

Nino grinned. “No problem, man, thanks for coming. Concerts are fun if you go alone, but way better if you have a friend.”

“We’re friends?” Adrien grinned at Nino. “I haven’t made any of those yet. So far, Chloe’s the only one in class who’s bothered talking to me. I mean, I sit next to Ivan and he’s nice enough, and Marinette said hi at a photo shoot the other day, but I haven’t really made any friends yet, you know?”

“That is so sad,” Nino said. “Don’t worry, with me as your new buddy, you’ll be making friends in no time. You’ll have so many friends you’ll almost forget about me. But then I’ll fight my way through the crowd like ‘Hi-ya! You can’t forget about me, I made you who you are!’ and then you’ll be like ‘who are you again?’ and I’ll be like ‘the guy who took you to the Jagged Stone concert’ and you’ll be like ‘Oh, yeah,’ and we’ll be cool again.”

Adrien laughed. “Yeah, no way I’d ever forget about you. I’m sorry Chloe’s so...you know, mean to you. I wish she’d been here.”

Nino shrugged. “Hey, I know she’s mean. I like her anyway. Besides, I’m curious why you came. Jagged Stone doesn’t seem like your kind of music.”

Adrien’s eyes lit up. “Are you serious? I love Jagged Stone! I have every single one of their albums, and a signed shirt, and I’ve seen all his interviews, and I have all his songs memorized.”

“Even Shadows of the Future?” Nino asked. That had been the band’s fourth studio album, widely considered their weakest album. When it was released, a lot of fans came out and spoke of how disappointed they were with the music. He had never shared that opinion, though.

“Yeah, actually,” Adrien said. “I know a lot of people didn’t like it, and I can see why--the music was different, and the lyrics didn’t have the same rhythm as their earlier or later songs. I liked it though, it kind of seemed like they were trying to grow, to go in a new direction. I have to respect anyone who goes out and experiments with music.”

“Anyone?” Nino asked cautiously. Adrien nodded. “You know, I make music, too, if you ever want to check it out.”

“Really?” Adrien said. “That’s so cool. How long have you been doing it?”

The rest of the ride home passed in a blur for Nino. He couldn’t remember the last time someone other than one of his aunts had shown so much interest in his music. It was really nice, to hear someone encouraging him like that.

“I’ll check out your music,” Adrien promised when they reached his house. Nino smiled.

“Hey man, I’m going to be honest. When you first showed up, I was super bummed it wasn’t Chloe. But actually, you’re a really cool dude.”

“Uh, thanks?” Adrien questioned, but he didn’t seem mad. They promised to hang out soon, and Nino went home. His mom was still awake. She raised an eyebrow at the time, but didn’t bother telling him it was past his curfew. They both said goodnight, and Nino went to sleep.

Comment:Why do you even bother posting when all your music is such trash?--YoMama192
               Reply: Well why do you bother listening if you don’t like it?--Adrien Agreste (certified)

Comment:Your songs are so repetitive, it’s getting annoying.--Marxxie
               Reply: You’ve left this comment on his last three songs. Pot, meet kettle.--Adrien Agreste (certified)

Comment:Why do you even bother making ‘music’ if it sounds like this? Do you even try when you mix these songs?--Jebediah Hope
               Reply: How many songs have you made?--Adrien Agreste (certified)

Nino couldn’t help but smile as he walked into class. He said hi to Kim, told him all about that weekend, and then made a beeline to Adrien.

“You replied to every single mean comment I’ve had on a song in the last two months,” Nino said. It was supposed to be a question, but he was too happy and touched to question it. “Thanks, dude. You didn’t have to do that, you know?”

“I know, but friends do that, right? They stand up for each other?”

“Yeah,” Nino nodded. “They do.” He held out a fist. “They also have secret handshakes. Come on, we’ll figure one out.” It took a lot longer than normal to make a secret handshake than it normally did. Mainly, this was because Adrien seemed very confused about the entire concept. Nino couldn’t help but laughing at that, and though Adrien took it in good humor, Chloe was not nearly as amused.

“Don’t laugh at him,” she snapped.

“Chloe, it’s fine,” Adrien tried to say, but she ignored him.

“He doesn’t know all this stuff, alright? You don’t know his past, you don’t know his circumstances, so you don’t get to laugh at him!”

“I...I wasn’t. We were just making a handshake and--”

“Oh, don’t you try that with me,” Chloe rolled her eyes. “You’re mad that I stood you up for the Jagged Stone concert, and now you’re trying to get back at me by going after my best friend?”

“He’s your best friend?” Sabrina choked out. Nino winced at the hurt expression on her face. “What about me?”

“Don’t bother crying about it, Sabrina,” Marinette came and stood by Nino. “Why would you even want to be friends with her? How many times has she actually been nice to you, or helped you out?”

“Stay out of this, Dupain-Cheng!”

“Get over yourself, Chloe! You’re trying to quiet her because you know the answer is ‘never!’” Nino exchanged glances with Adrien. How had this gotten so out of hand? Marinette grabbed Nino’s arm, “I say, let her keep her best friend. If they’ve known each other for as long as she says they have, who knows what kind of lowlife scum he is, too?” She was glaring at the blonde. Adrien's brow furrowed, confused.

“You’re mad at me?” He asked, looking to Nino for an explanation.

“Of course she’s mad at you,” Sabrina bit out, frowning at Marinette. “You’re Chloe’s friend, which, in her mind, means you’re worse than Lucifer himself.”

“Hey, Sabrina?” Marinette smiled at the girl mockingly. “Shut up. You don’t know anything about me, so you don’t get to say a word about me until you do.”

“Don’t let her fool you, Adrien,” Sabrina blinked and a few tears fell down her face. “Once she’s decided you’re a bad person, or you’re beneath her, there’s nothing you can do to change her mind. But if someone else is prejudiced like that? Watch out, because Marinette Dupain-Cheng will be there to bite your head off.” Sabrina stormed out of the room.

Chloe glared at Marinette. "Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted to achieve?"

"Obviously not, Chloe," Marinette's words were as icy as her eyes. "I don't set out to make people feel worse about themselves. You were yelling at my friend about something he would never do, and he was doing an awful job defending himself because he likes you, so I came to tell you to calm the hell down!"

"You can't go around telling me what to do," Chloe sassed, ears turning red. "He was making fun of Adri-cat and--"

"Jesus Christ, shut up!" Marinette barked. "Are you going to stay here, arguing with me, or prove me wrong and go after your crying friend?" 

Chloe fumed for a second, then left the room, roughly bumping Marinette with her shoulder on her way out of the room.

“Why?" Adrien spoke up, probably still wondering what Marinette had against him. "I thought, since that day at the park, we were cool?” Adrien looked at Marinette. She narrowed her eyes at him. Nino looked to the front of the room. Juleka was doing some last minute homework while Rose seemed to be helping her with one of the problems. Nathaniel was talking to Max, not seeming very concerned with the scene occurring in the same room as them. Alix was watching them, exchanging small comments with Alya. Kim was talking to the teacher, who didn’t seem like she wanted to intervene any time soon.

“You think I’d be ‘cool’ with you after what you did?” Marinette narrowed her eyes at him.

“What I did?” Something about Adrien's voice compelled Nino to act. He sounded so confused, so overwhelmed. Nino took in a deep breathe and covered Marinette’s entire face with his hand. He didn't slap her or anything, but the sound of his hand hitting her face echoed through the room. Adrien looked at him, appalled. 

“Come on, Palm Face, time to calm down. How much coffee have you had this morning?”

“Don’t touch my face!” She pushed his hand away and let him lead her back to her desk, which she shared with a new girl, Alya. “You’ll get concealer on your hands.” Nino grinned down at her. That was one of the nice, predictable things about Marinette. She was easy to distract in the morning before she’d finished her twenty ounces of coffee. Her thermos was hilarious--at least twice as big as her entire head, and she drank the whole thing every morning. Nino was sure it would cause her problems down the road, but she insisted that she needed it, and couldn’t function without having that much coffee every morning. She was an addict, and everyone knew it. 

“Who cares, a little bit of soap and water, it’ll come right off.” He stood next to her as she sat down. Alya looked back at Adrien, who looked entirely too alone. Ivan was scribbling madly on a notebook paper and didn’t say a word to the guy. No one else would even look at him. Friends stand up for each other. “Marinette,” Nino said, and she looked at him as she drank some calming coffee. “Adrien is a good guy.” She set her thermos down and stared at him. “Really. We hung out at a concert this weekend, and we’re friends now. Be nice to him, would you?”

Marinette looked down and was quiet for a minute. “A concert? Do you mean, the Jagged Stone concert? The one which I couldn’t afford the tickets for?” She looked up, and her eyes were glassy. “You took him and Chloe and you didn’t even ask me?”

Nino looked away. “Well, I mean--don’t change the subject That’s not Adrien’s fault.”

“No,” Marinette glared at it. “That’s not his fault. He hasn’t been one of my best friends since first grade. He hasn’t known what a big fan of Jagged Stone I am. And he doesn’t know I’ve been dying to go to one of their concerts for years.”

“Marinette, I’m sorry,” Nino tried, but she looked back at her desk.

“Whatever, go back to your new friend and leave me alone.”

He knew he'd hurt her feelings, but he didn’t have a chance to patch things up with her. The teacher, done talking to Kim, and realizing the drama had faded away, clapped her hands and told everyone to get to their seats. Nino walked back, and the grateful smile Adrien sent him feel proud. He might have gotten in a fight with one of his best friends, but he did it defending a new kid. Once he explained it to her that way, she wouldn’t be angry anymore, he was sure.

At lunch, Nino pulled Marinette aside.

“Why are you talking to me?” she grumbled. “You think I’m a bully, right? Go hang out with your new friend: the one you know so much about.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t invite you to the concert,” he said, reiterating his sentiments from that morning. “It’s just… you know how long I’ve liked Chloe, and I thought if I invited Adrien along, she would come. And by the time I accepted she wasn’t coming, the concert was starting. I would have asked you to come, I promise.”

Marinette shook her head. “I don’t care about the dumb concert. You just seem to trust that guy more than me. You don’t know him, Nino, you don’t know the things he’s done. I do.”

“Do you, Marinette? Maybe I don’t know everything, but I know he’s a new kid in class who hasn’t made any friends just because he’s already friends with Chloe. He’s a nice guy, and he’s lonely. I thought you, of all people, would be against judging him for his friends, or who he’s associated with.”

“That’s not why I don’t like him,” she said vehemently. “He--”

The air suddenly got humid, and a disgusting smell entered Nino’s nostrils. Marinette’s face turned grim, and she started pulling him out of the cafeteria. She ran with him through the streets, but after a while he lost her in the crowd. As he'd been taught, Nino didn't look back. He didn't pause or search for her. He simply kept going, pushing through the crowd, fighting for safety. He hated it, but that was what life had been in Paris for two years. 

Francois-Dupont High School had a very standard procedure for students to follow in the event of an Akuma or Makara attack. They were to immediately evacuate the premises and look for an emergency bunker with space. Students were reminded to leave their backpacks and jackets in the classrooms, and encouraged to exit in an orderly manner. Teachers were not to leave until it was certain all students had left the building.

There were no instructions for when the attack was over. Usually students stayed away and returned to school the next day. If there had been any homework assigned, students would beg off of it because of the scare from the previous day, or because they had left the materials at school during the attack. Teachers were required to give allowance to any students who used the Makara or Akuma as an excuse. Some students returned to school and gathered their belongings anyway. Most of the time, these students had more in their bags than just schoolwork, and they wanted it back in their possession before the next school day. Adrien was one of such students.

He wandered through the school, taking his time. It wasn’t like anyone would be waiting or worried for him back at home. His father, though protective of almost all things in his life, seemed almost indifferent about the Makara and Akuma. Adrien couldn’t figure out why, and his father never explained. In the end, it didn’t matter. The attacks resulted with Adrien enjoying a little more freedom than he otherwise would not have had. Grabbing his backpack was one of those freedoms. His bodyguard was not allowed to follow him on school property. Though he liked spending time with the Gorilla, he still craved having a sense of freedom, without his every move being watched.

As he continued walking towards his classroom, Adrien heard two voices in the hallway. He mentally sighed as the familiar voice of Marinette snapped in the air. He wondered who was on the other end of her razor tongue this time. He turned the bend and paused. The scene in front of him was not exactly what he had been expecting. There was Marinette, as short as ever. Her feet were set, her eyes disapproving, and her finger stuck straight in the other girl’s face. The other girl looked decidedly more relaxed. She was leaning against a locker, one arm crossed in front of her, and the other played with her brown hair. There was a sardonic smile on the girl’s face, and her green eyes were cool whilst Marinette’s were flashing with fire. Most surprising about the scene was who stood at Marinette’s shoulder: Chloe.

“And why do you care?” the girl asked Marinette lightly. Adrien knew who she was. On the first day of school, all the new kids had introduced themselves to each other. This girl, with green eyes and light brown hair, had introduced herself as Lila. “We could all see from this morning’s scene that you don’t like the Queen Bee, so why not just walk along, pretend like you never saw what was happening?”

“I wasn’t mad at Chloe just for who she is,” Marinette growled. “It’s the principle of it--I won’t let her get away with talking down to people, and I definitely won’t let you get away with it.”

Sabrina’s words from earlier came back to him. Marinette had a serious character flaw: severe prejudice. He must be misunderstanding something. There was no way Marinette, who had determined Chloe to be a self-centered bitch, would ever defend her. That wasn’t the kind of person she was. She was stubborn, prideful, and mean.

“You’ve seen how she talks to people,” the girl said. “You’ve seen how she thinks she’s better than everyone else.”

“I don’t know what she thinks, and neither do you!” Marinette scowled. “I can protest her actions, I can let her know when I think she’s doing something wrong, but I can’t accuse her of something I don’t know to be true, and I won’t let you do so, either!”

Lila’s posture remained loose, though her eyes narrowed. “You and I both know she deserves every single thing I said to her. You don’t even like her. Why are you on her side?”

“Who cares if I like her or not?” Marinette snorted. “She was minding her own business and you were bullying her. No one else was around, and she needed someone on her side.”

Adrien shook his head and decided to head back home. He didn’t want to risk being caught in the middle of that. Still, it was an amazing thing he had stumbled upon. He imagined he was feeling like the first person who discovered sliced bread felt like. It still felt a little surreal. He almost couldn’t believe it. He wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it for himself. But there it was, right in front of his eyes. Marinette Dupain-Cheng was defending Chloe Bourgeois. Tomorrow, pigs might just fly.

She, in an instant, had proved Sabrina’s opinion incorrect. Though she was entirely too aggressive about it, she was standing up to what she thought was unjust. It reminded him a little of Ladybug. Except something about his short classmate seemed so much more...powerful? No, that was the wrong word. Marinette Dupain-Cheng had something inside of her, something which felt more courageous than Ladybug could ever be.

Chapter Text

Marinette should not have been nervous. She should not have been worried about why Cat Noir hadn’t showed up at the scene yet, or what he would think of her outfit. He’d seen her in the ugly suit dozens of times already; it was nothing new for him. She shouldn’t have had mock conversations with him in her head, trying her best to appear witty and playful and nice. She shouldn’t have felt any of these things, yet, here she was, constantly looking up at the sky, or down the nearest ally, waiting for him to come, to make some comment, to talk to her.

God, she was pathetic.

Another animal swooped overhead, and she barely dodged before its hooves clipped her in the head. The Akuma was so annoying. She wasn’t sure how, or why, but it could make things fly, specifically animals. The Akuma must have transformed near a barn, because dozens of domesticated animals were whizzing through the sky, ramming into whatever was in their way. The Makara had been surrounded by at least four dozen cows and a few angry sheep. It didn’t seem to notice them very much, except as a snack.

Cat Noir landed next to her. “Sorry I’m late, I--” he blinked as a pig soared in front of them. “Well, what do you know,” he mumbled to himself. Marinette was finding it hard to function with him so close. She should have been irritated that he came so late, or determined to defeat the Makara. She still felt those things, of course, but they were overshadowed by embarrassment. What if she messed up in front of him? What if she said something mean and he never spoke to her again?

She inwardly groaned. Hadn’t she said she would get over this? Wasn’t it supposed to be easy to ignore him?

“Any news about the Makara?” he turned to her. The words all jumbled together in her head. No news. It’s been covered by animals since we arrived on the scene, so no one even knows what it looks like. Do you think it’ll have a weird effect like the last Makara? How about you take care of the Akuma and I’ll handle the Makara?

“No--animals--it looks like a weird effect like last time--you’re the Akuma?” Marinette could have died on the spot. Her cheeks burned and she was certain she hadn’t felt this humiliated since Chloe spilled water on her white shirt in fourth grade, before she’d started wearing a bra.

“Are you ok?” he asked, “You look a little...sick?”

She certainly felt sick, like she was going to throw up. She had to clear her head--get away from him for a while.

“I’m totally fine!” she squeaked. Jesus, she was turning into one of those girls in TV shows she hated. “I’ll take care of the Makara!” She ran off before he had a chance to respond. Her back felt warm as she imagined his gaze following her, and she tripped, landing directly onto a police officer.

“Hey, get off!” he growled. She jumped up, apologizing. She bit her lip and glanced back. Cat Noir was gone. It was disappointing, in a way. She wanted him to watch her, to see how competent and cool she could be. At the same time, maybe it was best he wasn’t there to distract her and witness her oddly sudden bout of clumsiness.

“Marinette, shouldn’t we be going towards the Makara?” Tikki questioned. Marinette shook off her odd feelings about Cat Noir and threw her yo-yo through the air. It wrapped around a flying pig, and she let it pull her through the sky, towards the Makara. She didn’t see him, but she could hear Cat Noir’s battle with the Akuma. She wished, not for the first time, that the Makara didn’t exist, that it was only the Akuma which she and her partner had to battle. Everything would be so much easier with just the Akuma.

The flying pig joined the other barnyard animals as they orbited the Makara, and Marinette dropped onto the creature. It smelled horrible, and it had scales covering its body, but it was too big for Marinette to see much more about it. Unlike every other Makara, this one didn’t only smell like old fish; it also stank like a wet barnyard. More pressing, there was no mysterious silvery liquid on its body.

It had been a source of much debate and conversation on the Ladyblog and the news. No one knew what exactly the silvery liquid did, but it had proven to affect anyone who so much as looked at it. The closer a person got to the liquid, the less energy they seemed to have, and if they touched it, they seemed to fall into a deep depression, almost unable to function normally. The symptoms only lasted a day or so, but it was still very odd. People all over Paris had theorized that the Makara had evolved, that now all of them would cause such unfiltered anguish. They were wrong. The Makara beneath Marinette’s feet was slimy and scaly, like a fish, but there was no liquid. It was shockingly normal.

A few animals screamed in pain, and Marinette watched, horrified, as they were eaten by the Makara. This one, from the few seconds she saw its head, had a very eel-like neck, which could wrap around itself.

Police officers shot at the Makara, and Marinette hoped they could see she was there. She ran forward, trying to get to the Makara’s head. She had a theory that if she threw her yo-yo hard enough at the Makara’s eye, it would hit the brain and kill it. Or, at least, it would hurt enough that it might stop demolishing Paris for a little while.

She carefully made her way across the creature’s back. The scales were slippery, and it took all her concentration not to fall off its back. She threw her yo-yo when she saw the Makara’s neck, and sighed in relief. She might not be at her destination, but at least she was anchored to the creature. A cow flew overhead and she dropped, wincing as a scale sliced her cheek. Who would have thought that the scales were so sharp? She stood up, using her yo-yo as a rope to help pull her towards the creature’s neck.

“How can I help?” Cat Noir’s voice seemed to appear out of nowhere. It shocked her so badly that Marinette did the most un-Marinette-like thing she had done in her entire life. She screamed, turned towards his voice, lost her footing, then fell off the Makara. She saw Cat Noir’s eyes widen and his hand reached out to her, but he wasn’t as fast as gravity. She slid off the Makara, the scales slicing at her face. The rope of her yo-yo got caught on her legs, and she suddenly found herself hanging upside down, legs trapped in her own yo-yo string, swaying side to side as the Makara moved through the city.

Why the hell are you here? Did you defeat the Akuma--what about the butterfly? Couldn’t you see I was busy? Are you happy now? Go help the cops, I don’t need your help!

She had so much to say, but seeing his bright green eyes and dark hair as he tried to figure out a way to help her stopped the words in their tracks.

“Why the hell--are you happy to help!”

He either didn’t hear her, or decided to ignore her. He moved as quickly as he could to her yo-yo and grabbed a hold of it. Next thing she knew, his staff was in front of her, and he was urging her to grab it; he would pull her to safety.

I wouldn’t need your dumb staff if you hadn’t scared me into falling off the Makara. Get rid of the animals, they’re a hindrance. Isn’t there anything else you should be doing?

She reached forward and grabbed the staff. As he pulled her up, the rope around her legs loosened, and she freed herself, tightening the string of the yo-yo so it wouldn’t have the ability to trap her again. She knew she should let go of the staff, that she should rely on herself and her own powers, that she should tell Cat Noir to go help the police. She didn’t do any of that, for whatever reason. Cat Noir pulled her up until she stood in front of him.

“What happened?” He asked. “If you’re sick, you need to leave. This isn’t a joke--you could have died.”

“I’m not sick!” Wonderful. The first coherent sentence she could manage around him, and this was it? His words struck a chord with her, though. She could have died. She needed to get a grip, to get rid of the Makara as soon as possible. Marinette looked at the Makara. Somehow, it was hard to act like the main character of a ridiculous rom-com when she was staring at a monster which smelled like a fishing pier lost a boxing match with a field of cow manure. “I have a plan. Try to get rid of as many of the flying animals as you can--the police need as clear of a target as they can get.”

Cat Noir nodded and looked up at the sky. “If only you could make a giant net or something.”

“What?”

“Remember when you were able to make that net before? I wish you could do it again, but bigger. It would make this a whole lot easier.”

“I can!” Marinette tried to keep the excitement out of her voice. It was difficult. He had just saved her, and now she had an opportunity to pay him back that favor. “But it’ll take a while.” Before he could respond, she threw her yo-yo to the side and lowered herself to the ground as gracefully as she could with him watching. It wasn’t that graceful. She hit the ground a little too hard and stumbled to get over the pain, but ended up walking straight into a wall.

“Are you ok, Ladybug?” a police officer came to check on her. She waved him off, intending to tell him she was alright, but she accidentally smacked him in the face. He glared at her through the nosebleed he now sported and spun on his heel, ignoring her. Marinette bit her lip. She was acting stupid. She ran forward and looped her yo-yo through the Makara’s barely visible legs. She pulled at the yo-yo, wrapping it around a building. A few of the officers gave her disapproving looks.

“You’ll destroy the building!” one of them yelled at her.

“Better than destroying the rest of the block!” she retorted.

“Untie it!” another officer demanded, stalking closer to her. She shook her head.

“No! We have a plan, and we need to keep it still for as long as possible! And if your ideas were so great, why isn’t the Makara destroyed yet?”

The adults glared at her, but she was gone before they said anything else. She needed a spot to focus for a while. It had taken her quite a while to create a medium-sized net to capture an Akuma. How long would she need for a net large enough to capture an entire barn’s worth of animals?

“Lucky charm!” she called out before closing her eyes. Last time, the light from her hands had given her a headache, and she did not want to relive that. She tried imagining what she wanted to create. Tikki had told her that the more she knew about what she wanted to make, the more clearly she could imagine the object in her mind, the faster and more easily it would be created.

Well, she had no idea what a net this large would look like in real life, or how it could possibly be strong enough to hold dozens of horses, cows, cats, dogs, and pigs. She didn’t have time to figure it out, though. She could already hear the building crumbling under the force of the Makara’s pulling. Her hands heated further, and her palms grew damp with sweat. Her legs started cramping, and she could feel a weight in her arms.

“Keep going, Marinette,” Tikki encouraged cheerily. “It’s almost done.”

And then the heat dissipated. Marinette opened her eyes and blinked away the spots swimming in her vision. The building behind her crumbled. She didn’t have time to study her creation. She needed to destroy the Makara. She ran back to the scene of the fight, eyes frantically searching for her partner.

“Cat Noir, here!”

She threw the giant butterfly net at her partner. Unfortunately, she had miscalculated, and it landed a lot further to the left than Cat Noir stood. He turned to fetch it, and Ladybug’s entire face burned with humiliation. A few cops shot her irritated looks. It wasn’t as if she missed on purpose! Like she would want Cat Noir to think she was an incompetent nit-wit.

Cat Noir grabbed the net and swung it. The hoop of the butterfly net grew to accommodate larger animals, and shrank to keep all the animals contained. The net kept expanding and stretching, somehow able to hold all the animals in place. The more animals he captured, the more visible the Makara. It had an eel-like neck, with an almost equine head. Teeth jutted out its bottom jaw, a few animals still speared on a couple of the larger teeth. The whole body looked like a lizard. It’s legs were trapped in the yo-yo still. Marinette didn’t dare remove the restraints. The Makara did not look happy, and she didn’t want to risk it running around and possibly injuring the police officers on the ground.

Marinette ran to the Makara and grabbed one of the sole animals Cat Noir hadn’t managed to capture yet. It had been a police horse, but now it looked more like a police pegasus. She steered it towards the Makara’s head. Bullets whizzed by her, but the Makara moved its head too fast for any of the bullets to land near its eyes.

The Makara spied the horse flying towards it and snapped at it. Marinette jumped and flew through the air. For a few heartbeats, she had no control over what was going to happen. Either she would land on the Makara’s head and possibly destroy it, or it would eat her. Thankfully, it seemed much more interested in the horse than on her. It swallowed the horse in one bite, and she landed on its head. She gripped at its smooth head with her fingers, arms, legs--anything she could possibly use to keep hold on it. The Makara swung its head around--not happy about its new passenger.

“Ladybug, what are you doing!?” Cat Noir called to her from the ground. She grit her teeth. She couldn’t speak or she might bite her tongue off. She slowly inched her way towards the Makara’s eyes, cringing when she heard Cat Noir land on a nearby lamppost. What was he hoping to accomplish? If he made one wrong move, she would die. She glared at him, hoping he would get the message and leave.

Of course he didn’t. He had promised to look out for her, and it seemed he was going to do so, whether or not it got her killed. His staff elongated and he held it like a baseball bat. Her muscles tensed, her eyes shut, and then she felt the whiplash herk at her neck. Cat Noir had hit the Makara in the neck. Its head landed in a pile of rubble off to the side. The hit must’ve been hard enough to daze the creature, because it didn’t move for a few seconds. A few seconds was all Marinette needed. She scrambled towards the creature's eyes, braced herself, and jumped. She brought both of her legs together, and used her weight to drive her down into the creature’s eye. She had never experienced anything as disgusting as the feeling of the eye giving way to her bodyweight. The smell burst from the creature like a balloon, and she threw up on the side. Just her luck, her head had turned in the direction Cat Noir stood. She looked up, and he seemed green in the face. She tried to step out of the creature’s eye, but she was stuck. She heaved again, but she didn’t have time to empty her stomach again.

The creature started to dissolve. Its body gradually disappeared in particles of water vapor, and the rancid smell was quickly replaced by the fresh scent of an ocean breeze. Now that there was no more solid Makara to hold her weight, Marinette felt herself start to fall through the air. Cat Noir ran forward, grabbed her, and slowly lowered the two of them to the ground with his staff. When they touched the ground, he hastily stepped back. Ladybug looked down at her suit, dreading what she was about to see. From her waist down, she dripped in Makara blood. Her left forearm still had a bit of her vomit on it.

Marinette closed her eyes and almost fainted from the sheer mortification of it all. She could just die.

“Are you...alright?” Cat Noir asked. It felt like that’s all he’d said to her all day. “You killed that thing with your--”

“Don’t,” She held up a hand, eyes still closed. She couldn’t bear to look at him right then. She didn’t want to know what expression he had on his face. “Just thinking about it makes me sick. Where’s the Akuma? I want to go home, and I have three minutes left before my transformation runs out.”

Cat Noir expedited the rest of the routine. Cataclysm. Purification. Quick scolding by the police about the destroyed building. He told her to go, he would check up on the Akuma victim before he left.

She had never left a Makara attack scene faster than she did that day.

“Come on, just a few minutes,” Nino held out a bag of ice. “Your face looks awful.”

“Gee, thanks,” Marinette mumbled, ignoring the ice pack her friend held out. “Quit moving. We’d have been done half an hour ago if you didn’t keep fiddling.”

“Can’t help it,” Nino shrugged. Marinette glared at him and he apologized sheepishly. “I’m not used to all this modeling stuff. You know who is, though?”

“Don’t even start,” Marinette glowered, poking him with a needle. Nino yelped, and she didn’t feel bad--not even a little bit.

“Alright, alright, I won’t even start,” Nino mumbled. He held still as Marinette continued inspecting her work. She mumbled to herself, shaking her head and slightly and pining different parts of the pants and jacket she had him model.

“This is wrong,” she huffed, pushing her bangs away from her face. “All wrong.”

“I think it looks great. Can I take it off now?”

“You’re my model,” Marinette complained, helping him out of the heavily pinned garments. “Models don’t get to complain.”

“Yeah, well this model does.” Nino swatted her hands away from his pants, saying he could take care of those himself. She didn’t seem very embarrassed by the whole procedure, but it sure bothered him. “I don’t see why you’re so unconfident about this, Marinette. It’s not really like you. Watch, you’ll submit the whole thing and win first place--I guarantee it.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” she admitted, carefully placing the clothes in a garment bag. She bit her lip and faced him. “Adrien Agreste is a bad guy, Nino. You just don’t know it yet.”

Nino sighed. “Come on, Marinette, give the guy a chance. You don’t even know him.”

“I know enough,” she mumbled, rummaging through her piles of fashion magazines. She whispered something like a ‘thank you,’ and then shoved an Agreste magazine in his hands. He took it from her and flipped through it. “Page 18,” she told him, slumping in her spinny chair.

“Hey, I like this,” Nino said, studying the clothes on the page. It wasn’t what he usually would have expected from Agreste Industries (and the only reason he knew what to expect from them was because Marinette wouldn’t shut up about them, ok?). “It’s unique, and I like the vibe I get from it. I’d buy it. Why don’t you like it?”

Marinette opened her design notebook and held open a page. It was signed and dated for about three weeks before the magazine was published. The design on the page was just a rough sketch, but even Nino, who had no design knowledge at all, could tell that her design and the one in the magazine were uncomfortably similar. Nino took the notebook from her hands and compared the designs side by side.

Both had leather jackets, both had straight-leg dark wash denim pants. Marinette’s shirt was unfinished, but it had the same neckline as the one in the magazine.

“If you look at the designer, you won’t see Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she said as Nino handed the notebook and magazine back. “This isn’t the first time this has happened, either. All the contests I enter promise two things: money and notoriety. I always get the money, and I never get the credit. So far, I haven’t complained because I earn hundreds of euros from the contests. This time, I’m pissed. I didn’t enter anything--my design was stolen from right under my nose.”

“You can’t know that Adrien is the one doing this,” Nino argued.

“I can, though,” she said. She told him the story of meeting Adrien at the park. “He was the only one there who could have seen my work. Aunt Marie warned me about him, actually--his dad had stolen her designs years ago which won him his first internship. She’s never gotten over it. I can’t have the same thing happen to me.” Her eyes were hard, but Nino had known her long enough to look past that. Marinette was a girl full of pride. She’d always been talented, hardworking, and willing to fight for what she wanted. Since her mom and uncles had started training her in martial arts and initiated her into the family gang, Marinette had been one kick-ass girl who had everything under control. Now, she didn’t. And Nino could see it worried her.

“It’ll be alright,” Nino tried to soothe as she saw him to the front door. “I promise, it will be.”

Marinette snorted, but didn’t bother contradicting him. 

Ladybug fell again. Cat Noir reached towards her, but Ladybug would have none of it. She stood up, threw her yo-yo in the air, and swung away. She almost would have looked heroic if she didn’t run into a few police officers like a couple of bowling pins.

Adrien usually liked the Ladyblog. It was updated regularly, and had very high quality videos and pictures. Also, it had a very interactive fan-base. Usually, he loved reading the comments people had. Not this time. He winced as he read people’s thoughts of the video.

Maybe she’s having a rough time at home? There were only so many nice comments willing to give his partner the benefit of the doubt, and this was one of them.

If she can’t handle the stress, she should give that power to someone else--someone who can do better than her.
Reply: And who could be better? You?
Original poster: Yes, actually. I’d actually stick around after the fight to make sure the victim was alright, and talk to the police and the media.
Reply: neither of them stay to talk to the medie
Reply: she usually stays for the victims. Maybe something happened and she can’t stay longer anymore.

The thread went on for a while, and Adrien had to force himself to read a new thread. They didn’t know anything. Fighting an Akuma or a Makara seemed easy on a screen--he knew, he’d thought it was easy, too--but in real life, it was different. When you knew your life could end or be irreversibly changed, when you saw the creature and smelled it and felt it--it was different. Adrien had never known fear before he’d battled a Makara. Akuma were their own demons--they weren’t easy to takedown, but they certainly seemed so when compared to a Makara. And, they were more rewarding. They turned back into humans. Makara didn’t. They were just...monsters. They appeared, destroyed, and then were defeated.

Sometimes, they left things behind. The street filled with puddles of the headless Makara had been blocked off to the public, much like the block filled with slime from Mylene’s Akuma. It was simply too powerful a force for regular citizens to deal with, and no one knew how to safely dispose of the substance.

Adrien shuddered as he remembered the day he’d seen the Makara’s neck. He’d gripped onto his staff, Ladybug stabilizing it from the Makara’s back. He’d been searching for its head--for a weak point. Instead, he’d stared into a black hole. At least, that’s what it had seemed like. The neck hadn’t been very wide, but it seemed bottomless. He could feel the breath exiting the creature, could smell the rancid fish odor which accompanied all Makara--but there was no head. It was like a living, inanimate object. Some of the liquid had sprayed in his eyes and a feeling so intense he didn’t even know the word for it had coursed through his body.

He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to explain why it had affected him so deeply, or how. It was just a feeling of such despair, such emptiness. Adrien had felt the chill to his bones, and a whisper in the back of his mind. He could just jump, or lean too far, and he would be down there, in the creature’s neck. He could be lost, and be at peace.

The only reason the voice hadn’t overwhelmed him was because of Ladybug’s unsteady grip on the staff. It had moved, and the voice’s spell over him had broken, and he jumped down.

Adrien hadn’t walked away from that battle completely the same, and come to think of it, neither had Ladybug. He watched the next video on the playlist. Ladybug was trying to swing her yo-yo at a lamppost, but had gotten startled at Cat Noir’s presence and missed. She hit a police officer in the head, and she had cried out and started cursing out the young superhero.

Adrien bit back a laugh. It was funny, sure, but he could also tell how embarrassed Ladybug was. She hadn’t been like this before that strange, headless Makara. He hoped she would get over it. He relied on her. He was trying to be the best superhero he could be, of course, but she just seemed to have an easier time coming up with plans and following through with him than he did. It was probably because of her extra month of experience fighting on her own.

Cat Noir reached towards Ladybug as she tried to apologize to the cop. The video didn’t have audio, but Adrien knew what Cat Noir was going to say.

“What happened?”

Ladybug had scrambled for an answer, but nothing she’d said made sense. Something about the Akuma, and getting distracted by her apology? He just didn’t understand. He’d told her she was stuttering, and that if she calmed down for a second, he would hear her out, but she’d just squeaked, threw her yo-yo in the air, and swung away. She’d been so weird lately, and she wouldn’t even tell him what was wrong.

Adrien’s pedicab Adrien came to a stop.

“Thanks,” he said to the Gorilla. He waited. Gorilla didn’t talk much, but he was trying. The least Adrien could do was wait for him.

“No problem. Have a good day at school.”

Eight words which made his whole morning. Adrien smiled as he walked through the hallways and entered his classroom. The smile died as soon as Marinette’s eyes landed on him. He wasn’t sure what had happened, exactly. He’d known they weren’t friends, but she’d come over to say hi at his photo shoot at the park the other day. She’d seemed like they were fine, like they could become friends. Next thing he knew, she hated his guts. He didn’t even know why.

He shivered. Her blue eyes seemed positively glacial as they stared at him. Her deskmate, Alya, said something to her which took over her attention, and she stopped staring at him. Adrien sent Alya a silent word of thanks. Nino looked at him and shrugged. Adrien didn’t blame him for Marinette’s continued hostility. He knew how stubborn Marinette could be--he’d seen it first-hand. Nothing Nino could say or do would change her opinion of him; he’d have to do that on his own.

Kim turned around in his seat and looked at him. He didn’t say anything, he just looked. Chloe was still telling him about the newest child her favorite celebrity couple was having, and didn’t seem to even notice Kim’s attention. Adrien noticed, though, and it made him uncomfortable.

“Hi?” he questioned. Chloe didn’t stop talking, now moving on to the father’s sister and how awful she’d been acting lately.

“Are you a bad person?” Kim asked bluntly. Chloe stopped talking, and Adrien blinked.

“Of course he’s not a bad person,” Chloe looked at Kim, irritated that he’d interrupted her retelling of the last week of gossip.

“I try to be as good a person I can be,” Adrien said, confused. “Why?”

“I’ve been hearing that you and your dad aren’t nearly as honest as you portray yourselves as.”

Adrien’s eyes wandered to Marinette, who was now watching them with furrowed brows. He’d never imagined she’d be a gossip. That just went to show what he knew about her. She stood up, and Adrien internally groaned. Not again. He looked to the front of the classroom, where, once again, the teacher seemed to need to use the restroom just as soon as she might be needed. The door closed behind her, and Adrien felt dread fill his stomach.

Marinette stood next to Kim.

“Why are you questioning him?” she asked Kim. Adrien looked at Chloe. She didn’t seem very surprised, but Adrien was. Of every possible thing which could have come out of Marinette’s mouth, this was not what he would have predicted.

“I’m just curious,” Kim defended. “You’ve made it pretty obvious you don’t like him. I just want to know why.”

“No,” Marinette narrowed her eyes. “You said you’d heard he was a bad person. Who did you hear it from?”

Kim’s face seemed to pale a little, and he looked to the side, “Oh, come on, why are you after me? You don’t like him, go after him.”

Marinette scoffed and rolled her eyes, resting her hip at the desk just by Kim’s head. “He’s Nino’s friend, and Nino asked me to play nice.”

“This has been you ‘playing nice’?” Adrien blurted out. Marinette turned to face him, and Adrien felt like the main character in a horror movie who’d just coughed when a monster was about to walk right by him. Kim was shaking his head and turned back around in his seat, probably glad to no longer be stuck in this conversation. Chloe was staring at him like he was an idiot.

“Yes,” Marinette grit out from behind her teeth. “This has been me playing nice. I haven’t talked to you, I haven’t come after you, and I haven’t made you apologize.”

“I don’t even know what I’ve done wrong,” Adrien explained, but his voice was overpowered by Chloe’s:

“He doesn’t need to explain himself to you, Dupain-Cheng,”

Adrien groaned and dropped his head in his hands. He knew she meant well. He knew she was trying to come to his rescue and show him she would always be on his side. He just wished she hadn’t said what she just did. Chloe had made this entire interaction so much worse. Adrien dared to look at Marinette through his fingers, and he saw the exact moment she exploded.

“Of course he does!” Her entire face was red, and Alya was creeping closer with a phone in hand. “Just because he’s rich doesn’t mean he gets to take advantage of people who don’t have the money to defend themselves! Why are you even in this conversation?”

“He’s my friend, and I get to stick up for my friends like you stick up for yours!”

“Everyone knows you don’t have friends, Chloe,” a voice called from the back of the class. Marinette, Chloe, and Adrien turned to see who’d spoken. It was Lila. Didn’t she know this was not the time to provoke them? “You just have minions you bought with--”

“Stay out of this, you buffon!” Marinette snapped. Chloe stood and backed her up:

“It’s pathetic that you’re so jealous of us you’ll try to discredit facts about us, in front of the very people who can tell you you’re wrong.”

“And don’t think we don’t know about all the lies you’ve been spreading about us,” Marinette’s eyes narrowed, and Chloe nodded in agreement. Adrien didn’t want to say anything. He really didn’t want to. He knew it would be safest and most comfortable for him to stay silent as the three girls fought it out and forgot about him. He just couldn’t, though. He couldn’t sit there while Lila took the brunt of Marinette’s anger when he had been one of the reasons it was so intense in the first place.

“Come on,” he tried to sound soothing. “You don’t know that--”

“Don’t tell me what I do or don’t know!” Marinette growled at him. “I know plenty, and I have proof. If you weren’t such an idiot, or if I wasn’t so broke, you’d have figured out exactly how I know what I know!” She took a deep breath, glanced behind her, and slowly untensed her body. “But whatever. Who cares. I’m going back to my seat, where I’ll be playing nice until you decide to apologize.”

She stormed off, and Chloe slumped next to him in a huff. His best friend turned to him.

“Did you have to question her?”

“Well, did you have to butt in when I could have handled it?”

Chloe shook her head. “You don’t know her. When she’s angry, she won’t go easy on you. I was protecting you.”

Adrien looked at Marinette as she studiously ignored him and tried to drink more coffee. It seems she ran out, because she slammed the mug on her table and lay her head on her arms. Alya rubbed her back, talking to her softly. Sure, he hadn’t known her as long as Chloe had, but he couldn’t help but think she didn’t look very angry. Just very sad.

The teacher walked back in the room, took a look around, and nodded. Then she went straight into her lecture about the newest book everyone had supposed to have finished the night before. He saw Juleka pull up the Sparknotes version of the book on her laptop and leaned forward to see what he was supposed to know.

Class went by slowly. Adrien couldn’t help but to feel guilty about whatever it was that Marinette thought he’d done. He didn’t know her, of course, but she didn’t seem like the type of person to make groundless accusations against someone. He would have asked Chloe, but that seemed like a very bad idea, and Adrien had a maximum of two bad ideas per day. He’d already used up his two that morning. Maybe Nino would know. Adrien watched the clock, wishing that would make time move faster.

“Do you know why Marinette hates me?” Adrien asked. Nino turned with a start.

“Wha--oh, hey,” Nino slowed down and walked next to Adrien as the two of them went to the cafeteria.

“Hey,” Adrien greeted slightly impatiently. “Do you know why Marinette hates me?”

“Ok, I wouldn’t say she hates you,” Nino tried to placate. Adrien rolled his eyes, and Nino stopped talking for a bit. The two of them sat at a table. Chloe and Sabrina would join them soon enough. “She thinks you and your dad have been stealing her designs.” Nino said. Adrien’s jaw dropped.

“What?”

He sat still as Nino explained what Marinette had showed him, and her story of the park, and even that her aunt had told her to be careful of him.

“Also, her aunt had--” Nino cut himself off, glancing at Marinette. “Sorry, that was a bit personal. I’m not sure if I can tell you that.” Adrien shook his head.

“No, that’s ok. I just can’t believe she would think that…” Adrien trailed off. Why wouldn’t she think that of him? She didn’t know him, and she’d had proof, just like she’d said that morning. She was right--someone was stealing her designs and not giving her the proper credit. The fault in her logic, however, had been in who she’d placed the blame on. It wasn’t him. Adrien was a model, not a fashion designer. But, he was determined to get her to know the truth; he wouldn’t be able to stand it if such an honest (brutally so) person thought he was a liar and a thief.

He’d prove it to her. He’d show her he hadn’t stolen her work. And then, maybe they could be friends.

Chapter Text

Natalie closed the door behind her as she walked into Gabriel’s office. It was a large room, beautifully decorated with dark brown wood and shining silver accents. She had seen countless designs before she had finally approved of this one, and she felt it fit the owner of the office very well.

Gabriel Agreste sat at his desk, looking at the computer screen in front of him. Like the room, he was solid, unmovable, and completely professional. His suit fit him immaculately, not a single hair on his head was out of place, and his glasses never slipped from their position on top of his nose. He steepled his fingers beneath his chin as he concentrated on whatever he was looking at. Natalie wished he was looking at her, like she’d been wishing for the past twenty-three years.

“Your tea, sir,” she placed the mug in front of him, but didn’t move back.

“No need to call me ‘sir,’ Natalie,” he smiled tightly up at her as he took a sip of the tea. She had made it herself, just as he liked it. Extra hot, with one spoon of sugar and no milk. “We’ve known each other so long, it makes me sound like a pompous ass when you say it.”

Natalie nodded, smiling slightly when Gabriel wasn’t looking her way. There was no way he could possibly know how happy he made her when he said things like that--things which made her feel like he might one day feel as close to her as she felt towards him. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Is everything alright, Gabriel?”

He shook his head and gestured towards the screen in front of him. “Look at these numbers. We’re going down the hole, Natalie, and I have no idea why. We’ve been doing just what we always have, and yet…” he paused and looked back at the screen. “It started when Emelie disappeared,” he whispered, a haunted look in his eyes. “Right when the Makara attacks started.”

Natalie hid her clenched fists behind her back and stayed silent. She couldn’t trust herself not to expose her feelings on the matter. Instead, she let Gabriel talk, and listened.

“We can’t keep going like this.” He sighed as he stared at the numbers. Natalie rested a hand on his tensed back, and he smiled at her appreciatively. Then he looked at a photo on his desk. Her hand flew off of him like he had burned her. He didn’t seem to notice.

It was from a few years ago, on Gabriel’s son’s tenth birthday. For once, the family had been together, and Natalie had been given the task of taking a picture as proof. Adrien had been tall for his age, but skinny--all bones and no meat, as Gabriel had liked to say. Still, he had been beautiful. Even Natalie could acknowledge that. His hair had been a light brown back then, but his eyes were as bright green as his mother’s. Natalie didn’t look at the woman’s picture, and instead focused on the full-grown man behind Adrien. Gabriel stood, as always, tall and proud. A smile spread across his handsome face, and he looked so much more carefree, so much happier than he did now.

“We can’t keep going like this,” he whispered, but his mind was nowhere near his company. “I’m so tired of fighting. I forgot how hard it was to control a strong-willed Akuma. I wish I could stop, but they’re the ones which have the most powerful magic, and have the greatest chance at helping defeat the Makara.”

“If you’re so tired, if it’s so hard for you, why do you insist on finding her, on fighting for her?” It took everything Natalie had to sound neutral. She didn’t feel neutral. She wanted to scream, to shake Gabriel, to cry that she’d been there the whole time--right by his side. Why had he never looked at her?

“I can’t let Paris fall,” was his first answer. Natalie felt herself fall a little more in love with the man. Gabriel, a man of honor, who would do anything to protect his home.

“But what about Adrien?” she questioned. “He’s indicated that he misses you.”

“I can’t face him,” Gabriel whispered, grabbing the photo and tracing his wife’s face. He looked Natalie in the face and leaned back in his chair. She allowed herself the comfort of leaning against his desk. “Did I ever tell you about my family?”

Natalie shook her head, and a rush of excitement flowed through her. She always felt giddy when he spoke to her, or carved out the time to ask her about her day. When he decided to tell her more about himself, though, Natalie felt herself floating. It was as though he were telling her that he trusted her above all others, and that he felt she was worthy of being by his side. She listened intently to every word he said.

“My earliest memories were very fond,” Gabriel started, looking past Natalie’s shoulder. “My mother would wake me up every morning and bring me down, where she had already made breakfast. My father would just be leaving for work, and he would kiss me on the head before wishing me a good day at school.”

“That sounds nice,” Natalie said softly, remembering her own horrid childhood, where her mother could barely remember her name, or whether she was her child or not.

“It was,” Gabriel agreed. “When I was nine, my mother died.”

“I’m sorry,” Natalie murmured. Gabriel nodded his thanks.

“My family was never the same after her funeral. My father couldn’t function without her. He turned to alcohol and liked to pretend I didn’t exist. I was eventually sent to live with my aunt, my father’s sister, since he was deemed unfit to provide care. She used every chance to remind me that it was my fault my father was acting the way he was.”

“Gabriel, that’s horrible,” Natalie said. “And absolutely not true. How dare she say that to you?”

Gabriel shrugged. “She never explained why or how she came to this conclusion, but it didn’t matter very much. The point I’m trying to get at is that my life wouldn’t have been so terrible if my mother was there. If she had been alive, my father would have stopped drinking, and I wouldn’t have had to live with my aunt any longer. She died. There was no way to bring her back.” Gabriel looked Natalie straight in the eyes. “Emelie is not dead, Natalie. I refuse to stop looking for her. I won’t let Adrien go through what I did.”

Natalie wanted to argue, to say that Gabriel wasn’t like his father. She wanted to point out that he hadn’t drowned himself in alcohol, or thrown his son into the care of others. She wanted to, but she couldn’t. Gabriel might not have turned to alcohol, but he had become a workaholic. And though Adrien still lived in the same house as his father, they didn’t speak more than three minutes, if they got the chance to speak at all.

She saw the sorrow in Gabriel’s eyes. Words failed her, and she pulled him into a hug. His arms wrapped around her, and he was so warm. She forgot, for a second, that she was comforting the man of her dreams, and instead allowed her to fantasize a future with him. She could picture it: a world where he looked at her with pure adoration, as he had looked at Emelie. A world where he laughed with her and held her when she felt like crying. A world where she didn’t need an excuse to hug him as she was right now.

The door to the office opened, and Adrien walked in. She cursed the little termite in her head, but outwardly, her face remained passive. Gabriel pulled away and asked his son if there was something he needed. Natalie wished, not for the first time, that the bug had never been born. All of her problems could have been solved by now if he did not exist.

She stood and picked up her tablet, going through Adrien’s schedule for the next few days. School, fencing, piano, Chinese...oh, this was interesting. A photo shoot, a few towns away from Paris. She glanced at Gabriel. He would never request it, but she knew he wanted desperately to spend more time with his son. That was just the sort of man he was--the man she loved. She looked back at her tablet, figured out some of the basic logistics, then looked up.

Father and son were silent, and Natalie took it as a sign to speak.

“Adrien,” she called. He looked at her, startled. “You have a photo shoot, out in the country, in a few days. Would it be alright if your father joined you?”

The sheen of hope in the boy’s eyes was almost painful. He turned towards Gabriel.

“You’re going to come?”

“If Natalie has deemed it compatible with my schedule, then yes.”

Natalie sighed at the stiff tone Gabriel took with his son. He didn’t need to punish himself for his father’s sins, if only he could see that.

“I will see to it that the day runs smoothly.” Then, she left. She couldn’t bear looking at Adrien--he reminded her too much of Emelie Agreste.

Ladybug grunted as a police officer slammed into her. She shoved him off of her, and he didn’t bother to so much as apologize. She scowled at him, and he told her that if she kept that up, her face would get stuck like that. Rude.

The Makara was decidedly more fish-like than normal. For one thing, it smelled much stronger than the others. For another, it was smaller, barely half the size of an average Makara. And, lastly, it flopped instead of moving regularly on legs. On the one hand, this made the Makara look ridiculous. On the other hand, it made it hard to predict where it was going to land. Marinette had tried to wrap the Makara up with her yo-yo, but it slid right through the rope. If Cat Noir had been there, she would have wanted him to hit the fish’s head with a staff to knock it out. He wasn’t there, though. It was only her and the police.

Marinette jolted. She didn’t need Cat Noir. She had done just fine without him for a month, and she would show him that she could do just fine without him now. She stood behind the line of police, telling them to keep the Makara contained. She closed her eyes.

“Lucky charm!”

In her head, she could see it perfectly. Cat Noir held it all the time. It was simple, just a solid gray tube which could somehow extend infinitely, like her yo-yo, and had incredible strength. That was all she needed. Her hands felt like they were on fire, and Tikki cheered inside her head.

You know, Marinette, the kwami babbled inside her head. At first I wasn’t sure if you were going to be a very good partner. Obviously, I love your sense of style, and your dad’s pastries are delicious, but you were just so bad at using Lucky Charm, I thought you were slowing it down on purpose. But now look at you! You’re a natural!

Marinette tried not to get offended by Tikki’s words. The kwami meant well, she knew. Tikki should just learn to have a little more tact. Marinette chuckled slightly. If Alix had been there to hear that, she never would have heard the end of it. Marinette, telling someone to be mindful of their words? The world must be ending.

Her hands cooled, and she held a staff. It wasn’t like Cat Noir’s staff--though she couldn’t figure out what was different. She didn’t care, though. All she needed was for the staff to work. She took the stance of a baseball player, like Cat Noir often did, and hit the Makara straight in the head. It hit the ground, and the police started shooting at it.

Marinette kept the staff ready, in case the Makara got up again. She shouldn’t have worried. It was too stunned to do much more than blink. Ladybug looked up at the sky and furrowed her brow. No Akuma. Weird.

The police shot at the Makara until it dissolved, and then all of them stood around, unsure if the danger was over.

“That was...easy?” Officer Claude said hesitantly. A woman next to him smacked his arm.

“Don’t jinx it!”

“There’s no Akuma,” Another officer noticed. “That certainly did make matter easier.”

“Not to mention this Makara seemed a little...stunted?”

All the officers looked around uneasily. Marinette couldn’t help but do the same. She was just about to propose they all leave, when the last people she wanted to see showed up. The policewoman next to her sighed, and another groaned.

“Not reporters,” a new officer grumbled. Someone told him to be quiet and smile, but no one contradicted his feelings on the matter.

“Ladybug!” they all seemed to be screaming at her.

“Is it true you’ve been performing so badly lately because of a concussion?”

“Where is Cat Noir?”

“When you said we could lean on you, did you mean in terms of any emergency, or just for Akuma and Makara attacks?”

“Do you have any comments on the fight today?”

“Which are more dangerous, Akuma or Makara?”

The last question caught her attention. “They’re both extremely dangerous,” she said, shifting on her feet. A few police officers looked at her like they wanted her to shut up. This was important. She would not be silenced. “Just in different ways.” She gestured to the street around her. “Makara damage the property, and challenge our sense of safety. Akuma come after us directly, and whatever they they use their magic on can never be normal again. We still have flying cats and dogs from two weeks ago, and a couple unlucky citizens have had the unfortunate experience of flying cow dung landing on their heads as they’ve walked through the city.”

“We know they’re both dangerous, but which is more so?” the reporter clarified her question and pushed the microphone towards Ladybug’s mouth. She paused.

“I’ll be honest,” she said, and everyone hushed. “I don’t know. They’re both so different in nature, it would be like comparing an apple to a basket.”

“They don’t seem so different to us hiding in the bunkers,” the reporter said bitterly.

“They are,” Ladybug asserted, and the police around her nodded. “I can’t explain how, and honestly, it’s not important. I urge everyone to continue to run to the nearest bunker and stay there until the city issues a safety alert. Everyone. Including reporters.”

The woman in front of Marinette did not look chastised, though others did.

“How much longer do you think the Makara will continue to attack the city?”

“I’ll allow the police to answer all following questions,” Ladybug decided. She turned, swung her yo-yo, and then started home.

She kept repeating the reporter’s questions. The Akuma and the Makara. They were different, she knew it, she felt it. They looked different, they showed up at different times, and they had different powers. But that wasn’t all. There was something about the Akuma which seemed grounded--something almost human. The Makara were not at all like that. It was strange, to see something so massive disappear so completely. It was as if someone had found the power to create something out of nothing.

The Akuma and the Makara were different, in a very distinct way, but she couldn’t figure out how, yet. She had a feeling that once it came to her, they would be one step closer to defeating the Makara. Permanently.

“You did very well, son!” His father clapped him on the back, and Adrien grinned. How long had it been since his father had talked to him like this--as though he were more than an employee? Months.

One of the assistants of the shoot came to give both of them water. Natalie made a noise and grabbed the water bottle from his father’s hands.

“Mr. Agreste only takes Clear Geyser water,” she looked down her nose at the assistant. The shorter woman apologized and said she would look for Clear Geyser.

“You know me so well, Natalie,” Gabriel chuckled. “You know you don’t have to call me Mr. Agreste? After knowing you so long, making you call me anything but Gabriel would make me seem like a pompous ass.”

Natalie didn’t smile, exactly, but Adrien would see her eyes softening. He had the intense urge to vomit.

“Are you guys...like, a thing?”

Gabriel looked at his son, appalled. “Adrien,” he admonished. “Your mother and I are happily married. Natalie is no more than a friend.” He looked at Natalie’s suddenly gray face and corrected himself. “She is a very good friend.”

“Ouch,” Adrien mumbled. She cut him an angry glance and he shrugged. He had never really liked her very much, but even he could see how much she liked his dad, and how being friend-zoned so aggressively had hurt her. Natalie’s knuckles turned white on her tablet, and she excused herself to find the assistant who had gone off to find Crystal Geyser water. Adrien watched her as she walked away.

“Adrien, that was very inappropriate,” his father lectured. Adrien looked at his father. He couldn’t possibly be this stupid.

“You know she likes you, right?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Gabriel said. Adrien opened his mouth to tell him that Natalie was walking up behind him, but he didn’t get the chance. His father spoke before Adrien could get a word out. “She has been my best friend for years, and I cherish the friendship very much. Try not to look into it so much, you’ll just make her feel awkward.”

Natalie turned on her heel and walked away. Adrien could not believe what he was watching.

“Are you serious?” He asked his father. “I can’t tell if you honestly don’t know, or if you’re trying to get her to lose interest in the harshest way possible.”

“You’re just a young boy,” his father ruffled his hair. “You’ll know better when you’re older. She doesn’t like me--she was the maid of honor at your mother and I’s wedding.”

Adrien bit his tongue. He didn’t want to ruin the moment. He didn’t want to say he wasn’t a young boy--that he was almost eighteen. He didn’t want to say that he was old enough to notice when a girl liked a guy, and that he was positive Natalie liked his father. He didn’t want to say that just because Natalie had been the maid of honor at his wedding didn’t mean she didn’t have feelings for him.

He didn’t want to say any of that, so he didn’t. Adrien just enjoyed the moment, feeling his father’s hand on his head. The action had been so routine and familiar when he was younger. He craved that time again--back when his father seemed to care.

The photographer called everyone to their places, and Adrien went to change his clothes again. He posed, his father looked proud, and the photographer loved it. Adrien allowed his mind to wander.

He knew his father. He was honest, and had taught Adrien to be the same way. There was no way either of them would steal Marinette’s designs. Not on purpose. Adrien thought back to Nino’s story. It had featured himself, Marinette, the bodyguard, and...no one else, really. Not even Natalie.

Adrien glanced at her, and changed his pose so it didn’t seem suspicious. She had been there, but either Marinette or Nino forgot about her. Adrien envied them. He wished he could forget about her.

The photographer called out pointers, and Adrien shifted to please the woman.

Adrien thought more of Marinette’s problem. He had promised himself he would look into it, and make her see he wasn’t nearly as bad of a person as she thought he was. His mind went back to Natalie. He was no investigator, but now he had a lead. Natalie. He would figure out who was stealing Marinette’s designs, and she would forgive him, and then they could be friends.

With a plan now in mind, Adrien couldn’t wait for the photo shoot to finish up.

Adrien shouldn’t have been surprised that his father had been called back to work before the photo shoot had finished, but he was. And, he was annoyed. Even though his father had left, he’d told Natalie to stay behind and supervise the photo shoot. Now, she was riding in the pedicab with him.

“Are you sure you’re not tired?” Adrien asked Gorilla. The man just grunted and kept pedaling. Usually, his bodyguard wore a professional suit and tie. Today, he had forgone the formality and wore simple athletic shorts and a tank top. Adrien understood why. He’d needed to bike forty miles round-trip, while pulling Adrien, and now Natalie. Adrien felt guilty just sitting while Gorilla, literally, pulled his weight.

“Let him be,” Natalie droned as she stared at the passing scenery. “It’s his job.”

“Don’t you have emails to be checking?” Adrien wished he could take the words back--that was the lamest insult ever. Suddenly, he wished Marinette was there. She always had something clever--and hurtful--to say.

“No internet,” Natalie mumbled, sounding almost like a petulant child. Adrien closed his eyes. His skin crawled just by being so near the woman. The wind blew in his face, and he shivered. It was getting colder as winter drew closer. As winter approached, so would Christmas, which was when his father would host a winter jacket design contest, like he did every year.

Adrien’s eyes snapped open. Design. Agreste. Marinette. Adrien cleared his throat and shifted so he was facing Natalie. She lifted an eyebrow and looked at him.

“I have a question for you,” he said seriously. She didn’t say anything, and he took that as an invitation to keep speaking. “I have no easy way of saying this, so I’ll just come out with it: my classmate Marinette thinks we’re stealing her designs. I want to know if that’s true.”

Natalie stared at him, and Adrien waited. She stayed silent for another two miles, and Adrien almost gave up on her. He was starting to think of new ways to get this type of information when she spoke.

“Gregoire Astruc,” She looked out at the scenery again. “Look into Gregoire Astruc.”

Chapter Text

“So you’re saying you come from a long line of royalty but no one can claim you because then the country would have an uprising just to claim you, and you don’t want that because you don’t know how to lead a country?” Chloe stood with her hands on her hips, looking down at the new girl, Lila.

“Exactly,” the brunette said, a fake smile on her face.

“Bullshit,” Chloe snapped before she looked at everyone else in the class. “How dumb would you have to be to believe this shit?”

“Why would she lie?” A short geek with huge glasses spoke up. “She gains absolutely nothing from sharing this with us.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Of course she has something to gain! Popularity!”

“Not everyone is like you, Chloe,” another new girl spoke up. This girl had darker skin, with red at the ends of her beautiful brown hair. “People don’t just go around lying to make themselves look better.”

Chloe grit her teeth. “You’re buying everything she says?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Lila Rossi questioned. “It’s all the truth.” Chloe wanted to smack that smug look off her face. Where was Marinette Dupain-Cheng when she could be useful?

“Oh, it’s all the truth, is it?” Chloe took a step closer to the girl’s desk, and Rossi didn’t even seem to care. “So your mother flies you to whichever country you want when you’re craving their food?”

“Only when I’m sick,” she ‘corrected.’ “Otherwise, that would get a little expensive.”

“And you had backstage tickets to the Jagged Stone concert?”

“Of course!” the girl grinned. “I’ve known him my whole life. Avril loves me, and treats me like the sister he never had.”

“Um, I thought Avril Butler had a sister?” Nino Lahiffe questioned. Chloe had always found him a little annoying, and slightly pathetic. Usually she couldn’t wait for him to shut up. In that moment, though, she could listen to him talk for hours.

“An older sister,” Rossi said after the briefest of pauses only Chloe seemed to pick up on. Dupain-Cheng would have noticed it, too, if she had been there. “I’m like his little sister he never had.”

Lahiffe nodded, like that bullshit made any sense at all, and she mentally smacked herself for expecting anything from the little nuisance. She turned back to Rossi.

“And you’ve won national competitions for lacrosse, soccer, and volleyball?” Chloe grinned down at her. “I’ve seen you at PE. You’re not very good. You’re not even on any teams.”

Lila looked down for a moment, sniffing away a fake tear. “I tore my ACL a year ago,” she said. “I can’t play sports again--at least not physical ones. I have a doctor’s note and everything. I can play video games, though.”

“Oh, come on!” Chloe stamped her foot, wanting to rip her hair out. “You’re such a liar!”

“Chloe, knock it off,” Mylene Haprele said shakily from her seat. She looked to Ivan Bruel and the giant nodded at her. “She’s new, and she’s cool. You’re just mad because she seems to have more experiences and friends than you.”

“That’s not true!” Chloe denied. “She’s just lying!”

“Since when do you care about liars?” Le Chien asked curiously from his desk in front of her. Chloe rolled her eyes.

“If you hear Dupain-Cheng’s speech about honesty and integrity enough times, it sticks with you. It’s annoying as hell that I’ve heard it so many times I’ve almost got it memorized, and this bitch hasn’t heard it even once.”

“Calm down, Chloe,” Adrien stood up, reaching towards her. “You’re really worked up. There’s no need to call her names.”

Chloe shook his hand off and stared at him. “You don’t believe me!” She was shocked. This was Adrien, her best friend, the person who knew her best in the world. He was supposed to be on her side no matter what, and here he was, trying to be a white knight in shining armor for the new girl who would probably go after him for his money and his father’s name. This was unbelievable!

“You said you play video games?” the geek addressed Rossi. She grinned at him.

“Oh yeah, all the time. I mainly play Ultimate Mecha Strike--I wouldn’t be surprised if you haven’t heard of it. It’s a pretty niche game. I like it, though. I’ve broken a ton of records and high scores!”

“Really?” The geek was excited, but Chloe was focused on the name of that video game. Where had she heard that before? “There’s a UMS tournament this weekend--would you like to be my partner?”

“Over my dead body!” called a voice from the front of the room. Chloe had never been more happy to see that short Asian girl in her entire life. “Max, you said I was going to be your partner!”

“But Lila’s broken multiple high scores, and set new records on the game!” Max said excitedly. Marinette snorted, and Chloe sat down, grinning at Rossi triumphantly. The cavalry was here--Rossi was going down.

“Which records?” Marinette asked. “And which high scores? The entire high score board is dominated by me, my dad, and my uncles. Even you haven’t broken one of our high scores. And you want me to give up my spot in the tournament to a known liar just because she said she had some new high scores and broke some records?”

“Lila, why don’t you tell Marinette which records you broke?” Max tried to play the peacekeeper. Chloe took her phone out and snapped a picture of Rossi’s shocked face.

“Chloe!” Alya scolded. Chloe made a face.

“Like you weren’t dying for a shot of that face.”

Alya looked away, and Chloe continued to watch the show.

“Nothing to say, Lila?” Marinette taunted. Oh, the little Asian girl was so perfect Chloe could just kiss her. She turned back to the liar, giddy with delight at how the whole situation was going. “Why don’t we meet in the library at lunch? We can have a quick match, and whoever wins can decide who joins Max’s team for the tournament.”

Lila wasn’t looking too good. Her face was pale, and she was biting her lip. “I’m not feeling too well,”

“You were craving American food, weren’t you?” Chloe called helpfully from her seat. “Why don’t you call your mom, and we can hear her offer to fly you to New York?”

“What?” Marinette glanced at Chloe. Chloe took great joy in explaining the ridiculousness of Rossi’s claim to seemingly the only other level head in the classroom.

“Rossi here was telling us earlier that she was craving American food, and told us that when she was sick, her mother flew her to the country of her choice to enjoy the food.”

“What kind of idiot would believe that?” Marinette questioned, and Chloe couldn’t agree more.

“Come on, Marinette,” Alix Kubdel called from across the room. “She’s new, and she’s making friends. Don’t get so jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Marinette frowned.

“Of course you are,” Adrien rolled his eyes. “You’re jealous because she’s making friends because she’s nice and cool, and doesn’t have to rely on childhood relationships because she grew up to be mean and grouchy.”

“Hey!” Marinette barked at him. “Stay out of this. I’m supposed to be nice to you.”

Chloe felt conflicted for a second. This was her best friend: Adri-cat. He had been there for her through her mother’s continual abandonment, her parent’s divorce, and every single birthday and hardship since. She was supposed to be on his side no matter what. She pursed her lips.

“Fat chance,” Adrien threw back. “Be nice to Lila and I’ll leave you alone.” He actually had the nerve to look at her for support. Chloe sniffed.

“Adri-cat, I think you’d better listen to Dupain-Cheng and sit down.”

His mouth dropped, and he couldn’t do anything but lower himself in his seat.

“Traitor,” he mouthed.

“Pot meet kettle,” she mouthed back.

“Don’t think we’ve forgotten about you,” Marinette turned back to Rossi. “Are you going to call your mom for a trip to New York, or are you going to meet me in the library at lunch?”

“Leave her alone, Marinette,” another new girl piped her. This one was short, blonde, and way too pink for Chloe’s eyes to handle.

“Don’t you think this has gone on long enough?” The teacher at the front of the room sounded like she was about to cry. “You kids have been at it for half an hour.” Marinette and Chloe both turned to her, and the teacher rushed out of the room, mumbling something about a bathroom. She really needed to get a new excuse.

“I’m not actually feeling sick,” Rossi tried to bring the situation back under control. “I just haven’t played U...MC for a while. I might not be at the top of my game.”

“Playing UMS is like muscle memory,” Marinette waved off Rossi’s concerns, heading for her seat. “You’ll do just as good as you would’ve done if you actually knew the game’s abbreviation.”

Damn the girl, but Dupain-Cheng knew how to end an argument.

The teacher timidly stepped back into the room and stumbled over her lecture about polynomial factoring.

Lila just had one of those personalities which rubbed Marinette the wrong way. Somehow, she had bothered her and Chloe enough that the two of them had almost teamed up that morning to bring the girl down. Marinette wasn’t sure what problem Chloe had with her, but this, the scene in front of her, was exactly why Marinette couldn’t stand the girl.

“I’m sorry I lied,” Lila cried, hugging Max and looking at everyone else who had showed up at the library to see the match between her and Marinette. “I just...saw how popular Marinette was and I wanted to be like her! I thought if I said I was good at video games, you guys would think I was cool and would want to be friends with me!”

Lila kept heaving and sobbing, and Marinette’s friends kept looking at her like she was some sort of bully. Marinette rolled her eyes. Lila was lying--the name was almost like a warning. She was sitting there, garnering everyone’s attention by manipulating them into feeling sorry for her, and turning someone else into a bad guy.

Alix came over and put her hand on Marinette’s shoulder.

“We’ve been friends for forever, and you know I’m always going to love you,” Alix started softly. Marinette’s stomach clenched, and she felt like she was going to throw up. “But that was really harsh, don’t you think? She just wanted--”

“Don’t,” Marinette said. “Somehow, it seems like the only one who sees the truth, other than me, is Chloe--you're not going to change my mind on that. I’m not going to apologize, so you should just leave it before we hurt each other's feelings.”

Alix stood there for a second before nodding and walking away. Marinette wandered to Chloe’s side. This was a day she’d never seen coming.

“This is so stupid,” Marinette mumbled, and Chloe nodded in agreement.

“It was funny when you killed her that first time,” Chloe grinned. “I took a picture of her face.” Marinette didn’t even need to ask, and Chloe showed it to her. “Oh, and this is a short video of the time you kept toying with her--when you let her heal just so you could beat her back to an inch of her life.”

Marinette wheezed. “Send this to me. Please!”

“Number?”

Marinette punched it into Chloe’s phone, and they kept talking, Chloe close to gushing over the moments of Marinette crushing Lila like a bug. They were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn’t notice a certain brown haired, green eyes girl eavesdropping on their conversation, or a small, white butterfly entering the library.

“Butterfly! Akuma butterfly!” Kim yelled. Everyone in the library started to evacuate. Marinette didn’t move. Neither did Chloe. Both of them saw the butterfly land on Lila’s jacket, and they both saw the change occur.

Hair sprouted from the girl’s arms, and wings burst from her back. Her face was covered by a red glow, and a fox-tail curled around her ankles.

“An Akuma?” Marinette said. Lila--the Akuma--turned towards her and screamed. Marinette screamed back. She turned, grabbed Chloe’s arm, and ran. The Akuma flew after them. It was screaming.

“Laugh at me, huh? I’ll show you humiliation!” The Akuma’s fox-tail flicked through the air, and Marinette pulled Chloe to the ground. Where they had been standing was now simply a charred piece of carpet.

“Maybe it works differently on people?” Marinette guessed as she continued to pull Chloe to safety.

“She was so embarrassed she got possessed by an evil butterfly?” Chloe gasped. “How much more pathetic can you get?”

“You’re still laughing at me!” The Akuma screeched. It flew forward, and tried to grab the girls. Marinette grabbed the closest thing to her--a hole punch--and smacked the Akuma’s hand. She heard the bones break, but didn’t stick around to see how the Akuma reacted.

“Hey, Chloe,” Marinette panted. “Let’s leave her alone until she’s not an Akuma anymore, alright?”

“Good idea,” Chloe gasped. The two girls ran through the library doors and into the sea of high schoolers trying to escape the premises.

“Chloe Bourgeois! Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

“I hate this one,” Chloe almost fell behind, but Marinette pulled her along. “I hate this one so much!”

“Well, it hates you, too!” Marinette rounded a corner and almost ran into a wall. No, not a wall. A person. A very tall person. A very tall, handsome person, who was looking like he was waiting for something.

“Cat Noir!” Chloe rested her hands on her knees. “Thank God. We’re saved.”

“No Ladybug, though,” he said. “Where’s the Akuma?”

“Uh, it’s, she’s--you see, we were,” Marinette cursed herself. Chloe looked at her like she was an idiot, and Cat Noir ran off without even bothering to listen to any more of her ramblings. “She’s down the hall,” Marinette finished lamely. Chloe cackled, and Marintte glared at her. “Come on, let's go.”

The two started moving again, and all seemed well, until the ceiling collapsed in front of them. Chloe screamed. Marinette saw Cat Noir wrestling with the Akuma. This was not good--the Akuma was going to grab him and do...whatever it could do to him. She ran forward, shoved Cat Noir out of the way, and roundhouse kicked the Akuma in the face. Lila screeched.

“Ladybug?” Cat Noir called out.

“Nope, just me!” She tried to smile at him. She had a feeling it looked more tense than she had intended it to be. The Akuma was already standing back up. Her mother’s training kicked back in. Always strike first. Always strike hard. Always strike to win. Marinette did just that. She knew she wasn’t as strong without the suit, but she had years of martial arts training behind her. She could still hold her own in a one-on-one fight, and Cat Noir had seemed like he was struggling.

She readied her stance and lunged forward, faking a punch to the face while actually spinning around to the Akuma’s back. She needed to get rid of the wings. She grabbed them and twisted them. Breaking them was her best bet since she wasn't sure she would be able to completely detach them. The Akuma screamed in pain and turned to face her. Cat Noir pulled her back.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Cat Noir was usually so patient and kind--that was something she really liked about him. Being on the receiving end of his sharp words hurt, but more than that, it irritated her to be treated like a child.

“Let me go!” She shrugged his hands off of her. “I’m helping when you’re obviously not doing so hot!” She pushed him out of her way and looked at the Akuma. The red glow around her face was brighter than before. Whoever had made the Akuma was trying to get it to do something.

“No!” the Akuma screeched. “I don’t care about the Makara--Chloe and Marinette need to be destroyed!”

“Get out of here!” Cat Noir yelled at both girls, shoving Chloe down the hall. He didn’t get to Marinette in time.

She jumped forward, taking advantage of the Akuma’s distraction, and kicked it in the head. The Akuma was knocked off balance, and Marinette kept advancing. All the training she’d received from her mother and uncles ran through her mind and body. Kick, punch, dodge, fake-out. She spun around and kicked the Akuma behind the knees; the Akuma fell to the ground. Cat Noir’s staff came out of nowhere, hit the Akuma on the head, and it was out cold.

Marinette didn’t risk looking at Cat Noir. It would have ruined her stream of competency. She needed to transform--her partner needed her. She spun on her heels and ran.

“Hey, wait!” Cat Noir called after her. “Ah, whatever--get to a bunker!” She scoffed. Going to a bunker? She wished.

“Spots on, Tikki,” Marinette said, and she swung as fast as she could to the scene of the Makara. The cops were there, trying a new technique to slow the Makara down. They stood in a line with fire extinguishers in their hands. They blasted the Makara’s legs with the compressed carbon dioxide. It barely seemed to affect the Makara, but even the slightest change was a blessing in a situation like this.

“Any progress?” she dropped down next to Officer Madeline. “Or anything strange about it?” Marinette looked up to observe the Makara. It was big, like a bear, but it had six legs. Each one was thin and spindly--they didn’t seem like they would have the strength required to hold the beast up. Its head connected directly to its torso and looked exactly like a salmon head. She couldn’t tell whether it had a tail from her vantage point.

“Nothing to report. Cat Noir brought the unconscious Akuma to us a few minutes prior. He’s up there by the Makara’s neck right now, and seems to need assistance.”

Marinette nodded and took a deep breath to prepare herself. She swung her yo-yo and tried to tangle the Makara’s legs. Like her Lucky Charm, her yo-yo swung where she visualized it, and soon the Makara’s spider legs were trapped in the string. She braced her feet on the concrete and pulled. She needed more power.

“I need more strength, Tikki!” She growled, pulling harder. The police around her hesitantly moved closer, their fire extinguishers almost out of gas. “Now, Tikki, I need to be stronger!”

“This won’t be fun, but ok,”

(The Ladyblog would blow up after getting exclusive footage of the following scene: Ladybug was standing, strong as always. Her bright red suit stood in stark contrast with the gray street and blue Makara. It was easy to see she was struggling, and she seemed to be yelling at someone--maybe herself? Her yo-yo’s string was tangled through the Makara’s legs, but the hero didn’t seem to be able to pull the Makara down. Then, Ladybug screamed. Her suit glowed--it started faint, like a traffic light on a sunny day. Seconds passed, and the light grew in intensity until it was impossible for cameras to pick up Ladybug’s figure inside the light. The Makara fell to the ground, and Ladybug’s figure was covered by the dust of the crumbling street. Beneath the picture was the caption: You Can Lean On Me)

Marinette didn’t know what just happened. All she knew was that her body was on fire, and her muscles felt like they would turn to liquid any second. She couldn’t let go of the Makara, though. She didn’t want to risk it standing up again.

“I told you,” Tikki quipped, sounding anything but concerned. "Not fun."

“You finally decided to show up?” Cat Noir grunted as he landed next to her. Behind him, the Makara took a shuddering breath.

Like you’re one to talk, where were you last time? Well, someone’s gotten snarky lately. Don’t start with me, Cat Noir.

“Like you were, someone’s--Cat Noir?” She would have been more embarrassed if she’d had the extra energy. Cat Noir actually had the nerve to laugh at her. “What do you need?” She bit out. He sobered, looking back at the Makara. He looked so tired. Marinette’s grip on the yo-yo tightened. He should have to look like that, and she should have to feel like this. She wasn’t sure about him, but she was seventeen for hell’s sake. She should not be regularly risking her life to save her city. What kind of selfish bastard would do this? Marinette wasn’t the kind of person to hate anyone, but in that instant, she hated the Makara maker.

“If you could make a spear, we could get it in the Makara’s eye and destroy it, and this time we wouldn’t have to use our legs.” Marinette gagged at the memory. “Right, sorry, I won’t mention it again.”

“A spear, huh?” Marinette imagined it in her mind. “Ok, hold this.” Cat Noir took over holding the yo-yo. He was jerked forward.

“Jesus!” He yelped, readjusting his stance. “How have you been holding onto this?” She ignored him and stood behind him. The police scrambled to get new fire extinguishers. One exclaimed happily that he had found some liquid nitrogen.

“Lucky Charm.” Her hands started glowing, and she felt the familiar warmth in her fingertips. She was so glad she’s been practicing lately--now she could show off to Cat Noir.

“Think you could do it before next week?” He grit through his teeth. His arms were trembling, and the Makara was starting to pull him forward.

She wanted to glare at him. Oh, she wanted to glare at him and yell at him and tell him to shut up. One look at him, though, had her tripping over a piece of concrete and landing right on her face. A few officers came to help her to her feet. She would have shoved them away from her if she wasn’t afraid she couldn’t hold herself up by herself. She allowed them to hold her up.

“Give me the yo-yo,” She forced herself to stand, almost falling to her knees.

“You’re exhausted!” Cat Noir argued. “No way you’ll be able to hold this thing back.”

“I will--I’ll have to. You’ll need to get it in the eye,” She grabbed the yo-yo with both hands, and an officer handed Cat Noir the spear she had created. “I can hold it, but hurry up, would you?”

Cat Noir nodded and ran off, jumping up the Makara’s body, leveling the spear at the creature’s eye, and then throwing it. She almost feared he would miss. Her earrings beeped, reminding her that she had eight minutes before she transformed back. The smell from the Makara stung at her nose and only served to intensify her dizziness.

“Jump!” An officer yelled at Cat Noir. “It’s starting to dissolve, you’ll break your leg if you stay up there!”

He leaped down with the agility of a cat and made his way towards Ladybug. Her arms were jelly, and her fingers trembled as she reeled in the yo-yo’s string.

“I have seven minutes left--go Cataclysm the Akuma.” He nodded, and Ladybug collapsed, staring at the spot the Makara had just been. It was a crater now, just an empty space which used to hold a monster. A monster which always appeared before an Akuma showed up. A lot of people speculated that Makara were like Akuma, but created from animals instead. There was something about that Marinette couldn’t agree with, though. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was that differentiated the Makara from the Akuma, but it was a big difference--more than simply being an animal instead of a human.

Her earring rang six chimes. Six minutes left. Her nose started to run--probably because it was so cold out. She sniffled.

“No!” The Akuma wailed. Apparently, it had woken up just before Cat Noir could Cataclysm her jacket. She was thrashing around, throwing police officers right and left. “I need to destroy them! Marinette and Chloe are dead! They’re dead!”

Marinette blinked. That was it. That’s what was different. Each Akuma had seemed so unique--so different from the rest. Akuma were almost like humans, with how vastly different their personalities were from each other. Not only that, they seemed to have different goals. Some sped to the Makara and tried to help destroy it. Others, like Lila, wanted revenge on specific people, and weren’t afraid to hurt innocents in their journey to the goal. The Makara had none of that. In gaming terms, they were like an npc. They weren’t programmed with desires or personalities. They had one goal in mind: walk through the city of Paris and destroy as much as possible. That was it. There were no other goals, no other motivations behind those large, fish-like, emotionless eyes.

“Let me go!” The Akuma continued to fight. “I won’t rest until they get a piece of their own medicine!”

Ladybug threw her yo-yo at the Akuma and trapped it in a sort of cocoon. Her muscles spasmed, and she just barely kept herself from falling to her knees.

“Six minutes!” She called to her partner as he touched the Akuma’s jacket. It was a shame--that had been such a cute piece. Ladybug purified the butterfly and turned to Officer Madeline. “Get a team to follow that butterfly. It might just lead us to one of the culprits behind this mess.”

“One of the culprits?” Cat Noir questioned, moving closer to her. He tilted his head as he looked at her and opened his mouth to say something. His mouth closed. He paused, then said, “You think there’s more than one person behind this?”

Five minutes left. She was running out of time to leave, but she didn’t want to keep this information to herself.

“The Akuma are so different from the Makara, they can’t possibly be made by the same person. Think about it: most of the Akuma try to fight the Makara, and sometimes they’re better at it than we are.”

“But sometimes they don’t,” Cat Noir pointed out. “Like the Akuma today. Which you wouldn’t know about, since you weren’t there.”

She rolled her eyes. If only he knew. Four minutes left.

“Sorry,” she said flatly. “Listen. I feel stupid just realizing it now, but the goals are different. The Akuma are like people--they have someone giving them orders, sure, but sometimes they rebell and do what they want. The Makara don’t seem to have that--they exist solely to destroy, and then be destroyed. Can't you see? They’re totally different, and I don’t think they were made by the same person. We’re looking for two magic-wielding criminals.”

Cat Noir shook his head. “I’m with you, I totally understand what you’re saying, but it's hard to pay attention when your nose is bleeding so badly.”

“My...what?”

Cat Noir gestured to his own nose. “I think it started when you fell over there,” he motioned towards the incriminating piece of cement which had tripped her. “Now the blood is dripping...oh, it’s in your teeth.”

“You saw that?” She was horrified, and covered her mouth with her hands. She squeezed her eyes shut. Her earrings chimed. Three minutes left--the perfect excuse to leave. “I, uh--see you--minutes--going home!”

The pain in her arms as she swung away on her yo-yo was a welcome relief from the sheer embarrassment of that entire exchange.

(That night, there was nothing of note on the official Parisian news channels. The Ladyblog, however, showed a series of photographs ordered by time-stamp. Each picture showed a different street. The police were in almost every shot, following a white butterfly. There were four pictures in the series before the butterfly couldn’t be found anymore. Alya Cesaire, the author and moderator of the Ladyblog, had reached out to the police as soon as she was allowed to exit the bunker. Officer Claude, with whom she had corresponded, said that his unit had been tasked with following the purified Akuma in an effort to find out where they were coming from. They failed their mission. After chasing the purified butterfly four streets, it dissolved in front of them. There was no clear video of this event occurring, and the public was left to take their word for it.)

Chapter Text

“Ok, class,” Mrs. Bustier tried to smile bravely at the front of the class. “It’s time to elect a class president!”

“Now?” Kim questioned. “School started forever ago--shouldn’t we have found a president the first week of school?”

“Ordinarily, yes,” Mrs. Bustier shuffled through the pile of papers on her desk. It didn't look like she had a specific paper she was looking for, and was just doing her best not to look at the class. “However, this year has been a little...odd, what with all the Makara and Akuma attacks. The school had decided to hold off on this for a while, and I suspect Principal Damocles eventually forgot about it all until Mrs. Mendeleiv brought it up at our last staff meeting. So, here we are,” Mrs. Bustier looked up from her desk. She was stress personified. Her voice squeaked when she spoke. “We are to have the election today. I trust you kids can settle it yourselves, yes? Good--I’ll be in the bathroom!” She ran out of the room, and no one moved for a second.

“It’s obvious who should be class president,” Chloe stood and sauntered to the front of the class, resting her hip on Mrs. Bustier’s desk.

“Me?” Marinette asked sarcastically from her seat. Chloe crossed her arms.

“No!” Their tentative truce had ended as soon as Lila stopped bringing attention to herself with her lies, and now the two girls were back to acting as they usually did. “Me!”

“Why would anyone want you as class president?” Marinette questioned. “What could you possibly offer to the class?”

“Money,” Chloe grinned. “Money wins elections, and I have plenty of it--I’ll be sure to win.”

“Your dad’s broke,” Kim pointed out. “He’s the mayor of Paris during one of the biggest crises the city has ever seen. Where on earth could you get money?”

“My mom,” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Aubrey Clarence. She’s a huge fashion designer. Right now she lives in New York, working on her collaboration with Michael Kors. She sends me whatever I need.”

“If it's money you want, I have money, too!” Lila piped up from the back. Marinette and Chloe exchanged glances. This would not do. “Plus, I actually have friends in class.”

“Chloe has friends,” Marinette defended at the same time Adrien said,

“I’m Chloe’s friend.”

He looked at her, surprised. She ignored him. Be nice, Marinette. He’s Nino’s friend.

“I have more friends,” Lila corrected. “So I should be class president!” Lila basically skipped to the front of the class, where Chloe was waiting, glaring at her. Lila turned and faced the class. “What do you guys say? I have money, and I’m your friend, so I have your best interest at heart! I’d be a great class president!”

“Oh, come on,” Marinette complained. “If your standards are low enough to consider electing her, you might as well make me class president. I might not have money, but I have friends in class, and I actually know what the job would entail.”

“Come on, then,” Alya said, grabbing Marinette’s arm and pulling her to her feet. Marinette’s legs protested as Alya pulled her to the front of the room. She collapsed in Mrs. Bustier’s chair, and Alya stood in front of the three girls gleefully before turning to the class.

“These three seem to be our final candidates, unless someone else wants to run?”

Everyone was silent.

“Ok!” Alya clapped her hands. “Let’s have each candidate give a speech. Lila, you’re the newest student, so you go first: why should we vote for you?”

“Easy. I’m personable, I’m smart, and I’ll do everything in my power to give us the best textbooks and field trips. Plus, my mom is a foreign diplomat. With me as president, we can have the power to change a bunch of class rules!”

The class seemed receptive to her speech. Alya chose Chloe to speak next.

“I’ve known you longer, so I could help more. I know we have problems with hearing the teacher, so I’d give our teachers microphones. Some of you can’t afford good food and have to degrade yourselves by eating the disgusting food they serve in the cafeteria--I would replace the staff here with better cooks. I’m sure I have more money than Lila--anything she could buy, I would buy two of. And I have good rapport with the principal, so if we ever get in trouble, I’d be there to get us out of trouble.”

Marinette face palmed. Did neither of them know what a class president actually did? She started speaking before Alya prompted her to.

“If I were a class president, I’d attend all the student council meetings and fill you guys in on what was discussed. I’d also make sure to be an advocate for anyone in class--I’d fight for anyone who felt unheard or discriminated against. And, since I’m not swimming in money, I’d get someone to organize a fundraiser for us, and I’d supervise.”

Alya gave the girls a round of applause.

“Any questions from the class for Lila, Chloe, or Marinette?”

“Marinette, why wouldn’t you organize the fundraiser yourself?” Rose asked.

“I don’t have the time,” Marinette rubbed her eyes. She hadn’t finished her coffee, and she was so tired. How many hours of sleep had she gotten last night? Four?

“If you don’t have the time for a fundraiser, how would you make the time to go to all the meetings?” Mylene questioned.

“I’d make the time somehow,” Marinette shrugged. “Just like how I make time for my shift at the bakery, and for my mom’s...family business.”

“You said you’d stand up for anyone,” Lila said from next to her, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Are we certain you can keep that promise? I certainly know I’ve been on the other side of your wrath before. Would you protect me from yourself?”

“Yes,” Marinette said. “If you came to me and said you felt like I’d attacked you or discriminated against you, I would publicly apologize and take corrective actions against myself.”

“And how are we supposed to trust that you’ll actually go through with that?” Lila asked innocently. “Are we just going to have to take your word for it, and then hope for the best?”

“I think we can trust her.” Marinette gaped at the boy who’d just spoken. She had been trying to be nice to Adrien, of course, but she never would have imagined that he, of all people, would stand up for her character. “You might not have noticed, Lila, but Marinette always stands up against people she thinks are wrong, even if that means defending someone she doesn’t like. I trust someone like that, and I’d vote for Marinette.”

Marinette was touched. She knew she hadn’t shown her best face to the blonde model, but somehow he had still noticed the part of her she was most proud of--her sense of justice, and the urge to fight for it. She pursed her lips, remembering what he'd done, and how he still hadn't owned up to it. It sounded like he appreciated her sense of honesty, and her compulsion to do the right thing no matter what. If only he had that same compulsion in him.

“Are you serious!” Chloe demanded, stomping her foot. Marinette found herself nodding in agreement. She couldn't help but question him:

“Why would you vote for me? You don’t even like me.”

“No, you don’t like me,” Adrien smiled at her. “But that doesn’t matter. I’ve seen how honest you are, how hard-working and responsible you can be. And, you were the only one who seemed to actually know what’s expected of a class president. I think you’d be the best person for the position.”

Marinette smiled slightly. Maybe he was right. Maybe she didn't like him. She sure did like how he viewed her, though. It was flattering. 

“You’re seriously picking some pretty girl over your best friend?” Chloe fumed. Adrien looked at her like she was insane.

“Yes,” he said deliberately. “Of course.”

“There has to be some rule you’re breaking!” She argued. “Some code in the best friend rule book, or something. This is unacceptable!”

“Is it ridiculous?” he asked.

“Yes! Utterly ridiculous!” Chloe stormed up to him and poked him in the chest as he laughed at her. “This is not funny!” She lowered her voice to imitate his: “‘Yes, of course’--you dumbass! You could at least try to lie about it!”

“Lying is bad,” Marinette piped up. Chloe spun around and glared at her.

“Don’t you say anything!”

“Come on, Chloe,” Sabrina called from the doorway. “Let’s go to the cafeteria. I’m hungry, and I think they still have snacks.”

Chloe stood still for a second, debating something in her mind, then nodded her head and followed Sabrina out the room.

“Time for an official vote!” Alya called. She had everyone close their eyes as she said each person’s name, and tallied the votes.

“Ok, so a lot of you abstained from voting, but it looks like Marinette got four votes, Chloe got one, and Lila got five. So, I guess Lila wins.”

Marinette volunteered to be the one who told Chloe. She and Chloe didn’t normally get along, but when the topic was Lila, they might as well have been best friends. She figured Chloe would want a like-minded person near her when she heard the news of Lila’s victory. Marinette walked through the halls. Sure, she was a little disappointed that she’d lost the election, but in the long-run, it was best. She was already so busy with her obligations, she’d run herself to an early grave if she’d also gotten the position. She’d mainly run for the position because of a sense of pride. She just wanted to show her classmates how incompetent Lila was when compared to someone like her. Obviously, that was not the outcome of the whole situation.

She heard Chloe and Sabrina talking up ahead and grimaced as she imagined Chloe’s reaction. This was not going to be fun. She took another step forward, then stopped. The air grew damp and heavy, and sirens started through the halls. Principal Damocles’s voice rang in the air, telling students to leave in an orderly fashion. Marinette ran out of there as fast as her legs could carry her, doing her best to ignore the still aching muscles.

Tikki had explained that the pain came as the price for the extra strength. Nothing came from nothing. The creations Marinette was able to make with Lucky Charm came from Tikki and Marinette’s combined magic. The more they practiced using the magic, the faster they could create. That’s why it had taken so long the first few times--lack of practice. In the last Makara fight, Marinette had demanded extreme strength, very quickly. Tikki had told Marinette that she didn’t want to be in pain for Marinette’s decision, so Marinette had suffered the consequences (and still was). She would have been angry, but Tikki’s face had been so cute and fuzzy as she explained, macaron crumbs lying around her, that Marinette just couldn’t find it in herself to yell at the little thing.

“Spots on,” Marinette whispered as she ran into an abandoned alley. A light flashed, and she was Ladybug. Her muscles still ached, but the magic of the suit seemed to dull it a little.

“Be careful, Marinette,” Tikki warned. “I can feel it again.”

“Feel what?” Marinette asked, swinging through the city, searching for the Makara. She would not be late to the fight again--not after leaving her partner alone last time.

“It’s stronger. The user is figuring out how to unlock a new power, but it’s unpredictable.”

“What are you talking about?” Marinette growled. “If you’re going to be this cryptic, you might as well shut up!”

“Well, excuse me for trying to help,” Tikki huffed. “Besides, I’m not trying to be vague--it’s just hard to explain. Oh well, you’ll see for yourself, I guess.”

The Makara was large, excessively so. Its head was almost at the same height as the buildings around it. Its back was dome-shaped, like a turtle shell, but it had what looked like eels for feet. Its head was completely covered in scales, and she couldn’t see its eyes. It seemed like the only weak spot the Makara had was the inside of its mouth. She couldn’t tell what color it was, because it seemed covered in a bright yellow haze.

A small sound filled Marinette’s ears as she stared at it, like a whistle. It wouldn’t be too tough, she thought, to beat this Makara. She could take it, easily. Marinette saw an Akuma start to fly towards the Makara, and she felt an irrational surge of anger. What did the Akuma think it was doing? She didn’t need any help--she could take down the Makara all on her own, damnit. She swung after it, unable to catch up until she saw the police beneath her. Cat Noir wasn’t present. Good. She didn’t need him.

“What are you doing here?” One of the officers snapped. “I don’t need you today--go home.”

“Like hell,” she retorted, then ignored the rest of the cops surrounding her. They thought she couldn’t do it--that they could take care of the Makara without her? She would just prove them wrong. She didn’t need an Akuma’s help, either. Her eyes narrowed as the Akuma threw a blue orb at the Makara’s open mouth. It grew in size as it flew through the air, and by the time it reached the Makara’s mouth, it was so large it kept the creature’s mouth open. Apparently, the orb was very tough, because the Makara couldn’t break it. Marinette growled. What did that Akuma think it was doing? She didn’t need its help.

“Marinette, this is what I was warning you about!”

“Quiet, Tikki!” Ladybug snapped. She didn’t need help from anyone--not even from Tikki.

She threw the yo-yo through the air, and it caught on the Akuma’s leg. It looked down at her, startled. She pulled it towards her, to the ground. A part of her wanted to tell the cops to get their tasers out, that the Akuma needed to be sedated until Cat Noir could destroy its weak point. A larger part of her told her that was stupid. She didn’t need the police’s help. She didn’t need anyone’s help; she could prove it--she would take down the Makara alone. No police, no kwami, no partner.

The pride was moving through her body like blood, sometimes changing, evolving into a sense of jealousy. Stupid Cat Noir with his unflappable kindness and pretty smile and beautiful hair and gorgeous teeth. She wanted to be like him--to be able to single-handedly defeat Akuma and Makara alike. She wanted to be able to inspire the sort of admiration she felt towards him. She wanted to not need him--to be completely independent.

Inside, a voice spoke up: wasn’t she already like that? What was there to be jealous of?

Marinette shook her head. Everything. She had everything to be jealous of. Until she could prove herself to the world, there would always be something, or someone, to be jealous of.

She stopped reeling in the Akuma. She had a better idea. She needed it unconscious so she could destroy its weak point. What easier way to do that than to slam it against a wall? Marinette spun in a circle, the Akuma at the end of her yo-yo. It went through the air, faster and faster, until she aimed the Akuma at a building. With a boom, it smashed into the wall, and she saw the Akuma fall, limp. That wasn’t much of a challenge. Or, maybe, she was just stronger than she’d thought she was.

“I’ll handcuff the Akuma!” an officer ran forward. Another officer pushed her to the ground, getting out his own pair.

“No, I will!”

“I’ll get the hand covers!” a third yelled, running to get something to cover the Akuma’s hands and nullify its magic with. Two other officers chased him, arguing that they could do it better. Ladybug didn’t care; she had defeated the Akuma, and now it was up to them to keep it contained. Marinette’s focus turned elsewhere, to the Makara. The Makara moved forward, the smell burning her nose. For a moment she shut her eyes, fighting the nausea. She stepped towards it on steady legs, forcing her eyes open. Then, she froze. She hadn’t seen him before, but there he was, underneath the stomach of the Makara: Cat Noir.

He was holding his staff like a pole and extending it. It looked like he was trying to use it to lift the Makara up. The Makara weighed too much, though, and the staff was just being jammed into the street.

“I have a better plan!” She did not have a better plan. She ran towards the Makara, getting her yo-yo ready. “Go back to the police!”

“No way in hell!” He snarled back at her. She stumbled in her surprise. Cat Noir retracted his staff and ran out from under the Makara. Marinette shook her head. She didn’t have time for her inconvenient emotions--she had to prove that she could defeat the Makara by herself. She threw her yo-yo and it wrapped around the Makara’s neck. As she pulled herself up the Makara’s body, the yellow haze around it grew stronger, and so did her confidence. Of course she could take on the monster by herself--how could she not?

She continued to pull herself up. Cat Noir appeared by her side, his staff growing to raise him up to her height. In front of them, the Makara screeched. Its skin looked like that of an elephant--tough and thick. One of its feet must have slipped, because it leaned to the right, straight into a building. Marinette was pulled along as the Makara fell. The building crumbled, and Cat Noir landed on top of the Makara’s legs. They were so fish-like it reminded Marinette of sushi.

“Lucky Charm!” she called out. Cat Noir turned and glowered at her.

“I don’t need your help!” He yelled, moving towards her. It was so hard to concentrate when she knew he was approaching. The image in her mind kept slipping away. Tikki tried to speak, to give her advice, but Marinette didn’t need it--why would she?

“Well I don’t need your help!” Ladybug snapped back. “Get out of my face, I’m trying to concentrate!”

“No, I can do this on my own!”

“You stupid kids, get down from there and let the real professionals take care of things!” A few police officers were slowly climbing up the Makara’s body.

“Stay out of this!” Ladybug and Cat Noir yelled at them. They ignored the superhero team and continued to make their way across the Makara’s body. This was an unwise decision. The Makara started to right itself. Cat Noir extended his staff and swept the officers off their feet, effectively pushing them down to the street. Their pained moans were distracting, and Marinette wished, if they weren’t going to leave, they would at least be quiet. Ladybug closed her eyes, imagining a giant sushi knife. Her hands warmed, and soon enough, the larger-than life knife was in her hands. Cat Noir slapped it out of her hands and onto the street.

“I’m telling you, I don’t need your help!”

The Makara stood up completely, and both heroes wobbled as they attempted to keep their balance.

“Now look what you’ve done!” Marinette scolded Cat Noir, ignoring her rapidly beating heart. He was just so pretty, and his voice was so nice to listen to--no, bad Marinette. He was in the wrong, and she couldn’t forget that just because she dreaded the idea of him being mad at her. “I could have incapacitated the Makara already if you hadn’t butted in!”

“You’re the one butting in where you’re not wanted!” he argued. “You’re always like this--it’s either your way or the highway. Guess what, Ladybug? This time, you’re wrong. Just listen to me and leave, I can do this on my own!”

She wrapped him in her yo-yo before he had a chance to run towards the Makara’s head. “I don’t think so.” With one fluid motion, she tossed him over the Makara’s side, and he fell on top of the police on the street. They cried out in pain again. Finally, he was gone. Now, she had the space to work alone. There was just one problem. She had no yo-yo. Ok, maybe there were two problems. The knife she had created with her Lucky Charm was somewhere on the street, and without her yo-yo, she had no way to get down there safely. Wait, there was another problem. Her earrings beeped nine times in her ear.

“Marinette!” Tikki cried, but Marinette shook her head.

“It’s fine, Tikki. I can handle this!”

Marinette couldn’t waste time going down to the ground, finding the knife, and then figuring out a way back up to the Makara. She would just have to improvise, and do something else to defeat it. She crawled up its back, towards its head. Her stomach tried to eject her lunch, but Marinette swallowed it down. She prayed she wouldn’t have to use herself as a weapon again. She’d showered for two hours the last time she’d done that, and she wasn’t sure if, mentally, she could take doing something like that again.

Bullets struck the Makara, and Marinette ducked her head. Her nose hit the Makara’s skin, and she couldn’t fight the urge anymore--she turned her head to the side and heaved. She wasn’t sure why her body insisted she vomit; she certainly didn’t feel any better.

Cat Noir landed on the Makara’s head a second before she started her climb. He looked down at her triumphantly, and extended his staff right into the Makara’s eye. It threw its head back in pain, and Marinette found herself flying through the sky. The last thing she saw was Cat Noir’s eyes. Beautiful eyes. The deepest green she’d ever seen. They looked horrified.

Her stomach tumbled around in her abdomen. Marinette instinctively reached for her yo-yo, but it wasn’t there. Oh yeah, she’d thrown it over the Makara when she’d tossed Cat Noir earlier. Now she was doomed, and it was all Cat Noir’s fault. She sailed through the air, towards the back of the Makara. Apparently, she had very bad luck today, because the Makara had a tail which she hadn’t seen before. It was long and snake-like, and it snapped towards her.

“Oomf!” She grunted as the tail hit her directly in the stomach. Her neck snapped to the left as she rapidly changed direction in midair. Her vision swam, and she couldn’t tell up from down. Her head throbbed, and the air was ripped out of her lungs as she was hurled through the air. It was hard to think of anything--she just felt like she was going to die.

“Ladybug!” He called out, sounding closer than she would have expected him. She tried to turn to him, to see where he was, but she didn’t have enough control over her body to do so. Marinette tried to call out to him, but all that came out of her throat was a scream. She felt him grab her arm, but he couldn’t hold on. She slipped from his grasp, and she hurtled towards the street. Cat Noir yelled after her. She couldn’t figure out why--it’s not like that would help her at all. A cop threw her yo-yo at her, but she couldn’t catch it. She fell to the ground, and smashed the road.

For a moment, everything was silent. Her head rang, and her mouth tasted like blood. She couldn’t see anything. She couldn’t feel anything. Then, slowly, her senses came back, one at a time. The first thing she was aware of was the pain. She had already been in pretty bad shape at the start of the battle, but now it hurt to even breathe. Her head throbbed, and her teeth ached. One of her arms felt like it was broken, and her feet were sore. She groaned. Then the sounds came into focus. There were a bunch of people rushing around her, yelling orders at each other and apologizing. She couldn’t hear Cat Noir.

The smell was what hit her last. Thankfully, the rotting fish scent was wiped from the air, and all that was left was the crisp scent of a sea breeze. The whistling which had been present in her ears since she set her sight on the Makara had disappeared, along with a pressure she hadn’t known she was feeling. It was suddenly like the world was no longer looking at her, judging her. Marinette couldn’t think of anything but the Makara which could have manipulated her into feeling so strangely. It was like the headless Makara with the endless liquid, only slightly different. How, though? What was going on?

“Don’t stand up,” an officer said gently. “You’re bleeding.”

She heard his words, but they didn’t make sense. She pushed her weight onto her arms and forced herself to her knees. Her vision blurred.

“The Makara?” She had a feeling it had been destroyed, but she wanted to be sure. “And the Akuma?”

“Sit down,” an officer said firmly. Her earrings beeped. Five minutes. She didn’t have time to sit down--she needed to leave. She struggled harder to stand. A hand landed on her upper back. It felt familiar, with five sharp claws at the tips of the fingers.

“Cat Noir.” she said, not wanting to look up at him. She was already so injured, and she got so nervous and flustered when she looked at him; she couldn’t afford to be clumsy right now.

He said something, but she didn’t pay attention. Her earrings beeped again. Marinette needed to leave. She looked around at the cops staring down at her.

“Can you meet me tonight, at the Eiffel Tower? Could you be there at ten?” She pushed herself to her feet, and Cat Noir stood with her, his arms tensed and ready to catch her if she fell. A warm feeling filled her chest. For a second, she wanted to fall, to allow him to catch her, just so he would hold her close and she would be able to say he’d hugged her. Then that moment passed and she realized how desperate that sounded.

“I’ll be there,” he nodded solemnly. “Do you have enough time to purify the Akuma?”

She still had four minutes. Another thirty seconds here wouldn’t kill her. She gestured for him to go ahead, and an officer handed her her yo-yo. By now, the purification should have been routine. Cat Noir performed Cataclysm on the Akuma’s weak point. It was destroyed, and a butterfly emerged from the object. When she went to swing her yo-yo, her head spun, and her legs fell out from under her. Officer Claude caught her under the arms just before she fell in a heap on the ground. She grit her teeth through the pain. She couldn’t fail everyone and let the Akuma loose. She swung her arm again, this time with Officer Claude holding her up, and purified the Akuma. Her earrings beeped. Three minutes, and no quick way of getting out of here without passing out.

“I need to leave.” She turned to Cat Noir. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tonight.” She started walking away, fighting through the pain. She turned through the maze of buildings, hoping that none of the officers would try to follow her. Her earrings beeped again.

“We’re really far from home,” Tikki noted. “The pain’s only going to get worse once the transformation wears off.”

“Thank you, Little Miss Sunshine,” Marinette groaned, leaning on a pile of rubble to steady herself. Something caught her eye. A pedicab. It wouldn't be comfortable, but it would be faster than stumbling around half the city on her way home. She heaved herself onto the bike portion of the pedicab and started pedaling home. She hoped to all things holy that there were no Ladyblog cameras on the route she chose.

(That night, the Ladyblog updated pictures of the fight. It didn’t escape anyone’s attention how oddly everyone on the scene was acting. Some people attributed it to stress. Others said it had something to do with the Makara itself--they pointed out the extreme size, strange yellow glow around it, and how slowly it moved. It seemed remarkably similar to the headless Makara from a month or so ago.

At the end of the day, no one could do anything but speculate. More than a dozen people sent their well-wishes to Ladybug, who’d seemed to leave the fight in horrible condition. Alya Cesaire did not post pictures of Ladybug struggling to ride a bicycle. Out of consideration for the superhero, she deleted those photographs, as well as any which might have given away her secret identity, without looking at them.)

Cat Noir waited impatiently at the base of the Eiffel Tower. It was one of Paris’s last standing monuments. Under normal circumstances, it was under heavy supervision. However, it was a common practice for police officers and security personnel of any kind to take the night off after a Makara attack. Everyone knew this, but there was nothing anyone could do about it. Usually there were still lingering effects from the Akuma in the streets, and teenagers were kept at home under the careful supervision of cautious parents. In other words, no one dared to be out the nights after a Makara attacked. He and Ladybug would be free to talk, without anyone to disturb them.

He checked the time again. 10:20 pm. Was she stuck at home? Did her parents not allow her out? Come to think of it, how old was Ladybug? For all he knew, he could be fighting crime with a twelve-year old. A layer of guilt built around his stomach. Not for the first time that day, he remembered the instant he stabbed the Makara in its eye. He felt victorious, like he could do anything, and he had finally proved it. It was the best feeling in the world, and he had wanted to gloat to Ladybug, to prove to her that he had done it all on his own.

Then, he had seen her flying through the air, and any sense of pride rushed out of him, replaced by terror. That was his partner--the one he’s promised a month ago that he would protect--and his actions had directly led to her being flung through the air like a ragdoll. He’d felt his heart stop when he’d heard the crack of the Makara’s tail hitting Ladybug’s body. When she landed facedown on the street, he thought she’d died. She probably hated him now. She hadn’t looked at him once after the Makara had been destroyed. She hadn’t even responded when he’d apologized. Now she wasn’t here, when she’d asked him to come.

Adrien paced, running his hands through his obnoxiously long black hair. He kept trying to think of something else--to remember anything but Ladybug’s shriek of fear as she’d sailed towards the ground, the near-panic he’d felt as she slipped right through his hands. His throat tightened, and his stomach twisted in knots. She had almost died today, and it was his fault.

“Sorry I’m late,” Ladybug puffed. His head snapped towards the sound of her voice, and his eyes scanned her up and down. She stood differently than she normally did. She wasn’t the straight-backed, proud girl he’d come to admire. Her hands were behind her back, and her eyes were nervous, looking anywhere but at him. Dread pooled in his stomach. He knew it; she hated him. “I got, uh, at home--I got held up at home. Then I started walking, but the cedipad--the pedicab! And it was a little hard to--I just started walking again, and uh, it took longer than I was expecting to, uh, get here.”

“Don’t apologize!” Adrien said, deciphering to Ladybug’s stumbling words. He bit his lip. “I should be apologizing. I said it earlier, but you didn’t hear me, I think. I’m sorry.”

“F-for the Makara thing?” Ladybug asked, then waved her hand, as if it were some trivial matter. “That wasn’t--no problem. Not your fault. Don’t worry about it.”

“It was my fault!” Adrien growled. How could she not see that? “I had this urge, this crazy need--I had to prove to the world that I was capable of defeating the Makara by myself. I convinced myself that I didn’t need the police, or you. I sabotaged you! If I hadn’t thrown away your Lucky Charm, if I had just paused to think for a second before I put my staff through the Makara’s eye, you wouldn’t have--”

“Hold it!” Ladybug held up a hand, cutting him off. The look in her eyes wasn’t like before. She didn’t seem nervous at all. She looked determined, like needed to be sure he heard what she was about to say. “This isn’t all on you. I felt exactly what you’re describing. It was this sense of incredible pride, right? Any time someone else stepped in, you felt personally offended, and you wanted to do anything you could to get them out of the way--to prove you could do it yourself?” Adrien nodded. That was it, exactly. “Well, newsflash--we all felt that. I was the one who threw you over the Makara, wrapped in my yo-yo. You could say it was my fault I was stuck flying in the air with nothing to help me. But you won’t. It wasn’t my fault, and it wasn’t yours.” Ladybug took a deep breath, like she was gathering herself. She looked in his eyes. He’d always known she was short, but he’d never noticed just how short.

“How tall are you?” He blurted. She blinked in surprise.

“U-um, five foot. Even. Why?” She shifted her weight, and he realized she was probably still in pain from earlier. Duh. He mentally scolded himself. He led the two of them to an outdoor seating arrangement.

“How old are you?” he asked, holding his breath for the answer.

“Seventeen,” she said slowly. “Why? How old are you?”

“I’m also seventeen,” he leaned forward, suddenly not as afraid as before. Something about realizing he hadn’t almost killed a ten-year-old lifted his spirits. “I was just...back to earlier--I just thought that I’d almost killed you, and then I failed to save you. I wanted to know if my partner was a child or not.”

“Oh, because of my--how tall my height?” She squeezed her eyes shut. He studied her face, worried.

“You’ve been stuttering a lot,” he noticed.

“Please, don’t mention it,” she almost begged. He couldn’t leave it alone, though.

“Did you get a concussion?”

She looked at him, a hopeful look in her eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe?” Adrien had never heard anyone sound so happy at the thought of having a concussion.

“You left pretty quickly earlier,” he rested his head on an open palm, his elbow resting on the table. “Maybe you should get checked out at a clinic or something?”

“Have you heard of the Ladyblog?” Ladybug asked. Adrien didn’t mind the sudden change of topic. Maybe she had something against doctors. He wasn’t going to force her to see someone--not yet, anyway.

“Yeah. I look at the pictures sometimes. It’s nice to know I look as good in the suit as I do out of it.”

“I’d love to see you out of it,” Ladybug mumbled, staring at the table in front of her. As soon as the words left her mouth, her face burned red. Before Adrien could comment, she rushed forward. “Did you see the posts from today, from right after the fight?”

“Uh, no. I was busy.” Busy pacing himself into a ditch, and worrying himself to an early grave. She didn’t need to know that. “Why?”

“Look at these pictures.” She opened her phone and showed him the screen. “That one, in the middle, is a regular Makara. The one on the right is the headless Makara from a while back. On the left is the Makara from today. Notice anything?”

“The one in the center is a lot smaller.”

“Right, and the ones on the sides influenced the people who battled it. Do you remember the feeling you got from the headless Makara?”

Adrien couldn’t help but to shiver. “I try not to.” Ladybug looked like she sympathized with him. How could she not? She’d killed the thing with her own body, and had gotten stuck waist-deep in its eye.

“Yeah, same here. That was disgusting. And the Makara today was disturbing. There’s something about them--the larger Makara. They’re harder to fight. Tikki, my kwami, was saying they’re more powerful, or something, but the wielder is still unstable.”

“She’s right. If you listened to me once in a while, you would’ve had the same information as your partner!”

“Yeah, my kwami agrees,” Adrien said. He was careful not to scratch Ladybug’s screen with his claws as he scrolled through the comments.

“So far, the only difference I can see is that the 'advanced' ones are physically larger. I reached out to Alya Cesaire, the girl who runs the Ladyblog, and asked her to try and focus on the Makara. I also requested she post pictures of the Makara before anyone enters the scene. Try to check the Ladyblog before you transform. It’ll be safer for everyone if we know what we’re fighting before it can try and deceive us.”

They sat in silence for a moment. He kept looking through the Ladyblog. He was proud of Alya--these pictures and the comment threads were great. He looked up at Ladybug. She was fidgeting in her seat, softly massaging her head. She’d gone through so much in the last week, and here she was, showing none of that pain. After being emotionally violated by a Makara, smashed into the street, and betrayed by her partner, she was still here. Not only that, but she hadn’t stopped working, it seemed, since the battle had ended. He set the phone down, suddenly feeling useless. He’d been there. He’d seen the exact same things she’d seen, and experienced it, too. He hadn’t been thrown through the air and rendered unconscious for almost a minute. He had been perfectly healthy. Yet, he hadn’t done half of what his partner could do.

“Don’t--why are you--stop feeling guilty.” Ladybug stuttered harshly. “I don’t blame you for anything. If I see that look on your face one more time, I’ll throw your ass into the Seine.”

He managed a smile. That was his partner--feisty and rude as ever. “Thanks, Ladybug.”

Chapter Text

Marinette was old enough to stop asking for five more minutes in the morning. She knew her mother would never allow it. Her hand slammed over her alarm clock and rolled out of bed.

“Good morning!” Tikki chirped from Marinette’s design table. “I almost thought you weren’t going to wake up after last yesterday!”

“Stop talking,” Marinette commanded, stumbling to her closet. She checked the weather. Chilly and windy. A warmer outfit with layers would be appropriate. She picked the articles of clothing for the day. The cream sweater would work wonderfully with the rich brown skirt and leggings. A purple scarf, perhaps? Oh, and she definitely had to pair it with her new black shoes.

“I think you should go with the olive green skirt,” Tikki said, munching on a cookie. Marinette looked at the outfit in her hands and grinned at the kwami.

“You’re right. I believe I’ve taught you well.” Marinette hung up the brown skirt again and pulled out the olive green corduroy skirt. Tikki zipped through the air.

“You didn’t teach me anything,” the kwami asserted. “I’ve always had the superior fashion sense out of the two of us.”

Marinette rubbed her kwami’s cheek and wandered to her bathroom, where she washed her face, brushed her teeth, and applied a light but effective coat of concealer beneath her eyes. Then she changed into her new outfit for the day before she made her way downstairs.

Her mom was waiting for her. Cereal was on the table with a glass of soy milk.

“Tom is making sourdough and baguettes this morning. Do you know how to help with those, or are you manning the front?”

“I’m a Dupain, Mom,” Marinette complained. “Of course I can help Dad with baguettes and sourdough.”

“Alright, alright,” Sabine said, tying an apron around herself, and throwing one at her daughter. “No need to bite my head off, I was just asking a question.”

“Sorry,” Marinette mumbled as she left the table and went to join her dad in the kitchen. She shivered. The sun wasn’t up yet, but all the bakers in town were. She stood by her dad’s side, saw what he was doing, and immediately started helping him knead the dough. Her arms were stiff with pain, but she didn’t want to worry him. She would be fine, and she didn’t want him to cry over a few bruises. The two of them worked in silence for a long while. One of the few traits Marinette had inherited from her dad was her silence in the mornings. Neither of them were morning people, and they liked their silence when they woke up.

“Marinette,” Her mom poked her head into the kitchen, holding a large thermos of coffee and a brown bag of food for lunch. “You need to get going now, or you’ll be late for school.”

She took off her apron, kissed her dad on the cheek, and went to her mom. Sabine smiled at the girl.

“Oh, cheer up. I don’t understand why you’re so tired. You’re a student! You’re living the best, most carefree days of your life! Enjoy them!”

Marinette snorted. Carefree her ass. Still, she mumbled something about trying to enjoy her day, kissed her mom on the cheek before she grabbed the coffee and food, and then she headed out the door.

The day to follow wasn’t out of the ordinary for Marinette. Honestly, it was a little too mundane. She sat through class, passing notes with Alya when the boredom became too much. The pop quiz in history was easy enough to pass with Tikki there to guide her towards less incorrect answers. Math was simple and straightforward, as always. Chloe and Lila both kept their mouths shut for the day, and Mrs. Bustier didn’t cry or go to the bathroom once. School was, in a word: boring. That was to be expected, so Marinette didn’t mind it much.

She walked back home with Alix and Kim. a couple of her childhood friends. They planned to go roller skating later that afternoon, but only after finishing any homework due the next day. The three of them strolled into Marinette’s bakery.

“Hi, Sabine,” Alix greeted as Kim stepped behind the counter. He used a plastic glove to pick out an apple tart and almond cookie--his and Alix’s favorites. Tom playfully shook his head at him, but Kim had known Tom too long to really be worried by the mock disapproving look on his face.

“How was school?” Marinette’s mom asked them. The three of them spoke at once for a few moments, recalling certain events, recalling stories of what Chloe had said a week ago, or what Mrs. Bustier had cried about last. Marinette’s mom shook her head.

“Marinette,” She scolded lightly, not sounding too upset. “Try not to torment the poor woman. I’ve met her. She’s very fragile.”

“I don’t do anything!” Marinette defended. Alix, Kim, and Sabine stared at her. Her mother even raised an eyebrow. “Fine,” She grumbled. “I’ll try and be nice.”

“Oh, yeah!” Alix piped up. “Marinette’s been nice to this guy in class,”

“A guy?” Sabine and Tom were both extremely interested in this new topic.

“What’s his name?” Sabine asked.

“Tell me everything about him, and how exactly has our little girl been nice?” Tom demanded. Alix and Kim gladly told them everything. Marinette rolled her eyes and pulled out her French literature homework. She could still hear them as she tried to concentrate on her work.

His name was Adrien Agreste. Yes, like Gabriel Agreste. He was Gabriel’s son. No, she wasn’t nice to him because of his connections. Actually, she had seemed to hate him until Nino asked her to be nice to him. The two of them got along, apparently, and Nino didn’t want Marinette to be mean to Adrien. How did he look? He was like an angel--blonde hair, green eyes, tall, stylish. He was so nice, kind to a fault, and he didn’t cry or look away when Marinette glared at him.

“It’s a miracle!” Tom cried. He turned to Marinette and grabbed her hands.

“Dad,” she frowned. “You ruined my homework.”

“Please, Marinette, this is serious,” he said. Sabine shook her head and sighed behind him. Alix and Kim grinned at her like the dorks they were. “Marry this boy.”

“What?!” Marinette exclaimed. “No!”

“Marinette!” Tom pleaded. “Do you know how long your mother and I have been waiting for a boy who can survive your temper and still stand being near you?” Marinette looked pointedly at Kim. Tom rolled his eyes. “A straight boy!”

“Dad, we have homework to finish. You know, so I can graduate high school?”

Tom let go of her hands and waved her off. “Fine. But please, think about it?”

She didn’t even bother looking back as she ran up the stairs to her bedroom. Tikki flew out of her purse and hid under her bed. Kim and Alix followed.

“Woah,” Alix ran forward, running her hands over a garment Marinette was working on. Marinette tried not to wince as Alix dislodged a few pins. She could fix that later. “This is gorgeous!”

“Thanks,” Marinette sat on her spinning chair. “I was going to submit it to a Clarence competition. They usually pay good money, and not many people enter them, so it’s pretty easy to win.”

“So, are you going to listen to what your dad said?” Kim giggled as he plopped down on her bed. “Are you going to marry Adrien Agreste?”

Marinette made a face at him. “There’s a higher chance of you actually passing math class without my help.”

“Hey,” Kim objected lightly, but he couldn’t say much. He knew it was true.

“Did you get the answer for number twelve?” Alix asked, pulling out her work. Kim covered his face in a pillow and screamed. Marinette walked over to Alix and walked her through the steps of the problem. Kim stayed on the bed for the next forty minutes, whining about homework and how useless it was. Eventually, it got to be too much for Marinette.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s useless,” Marinette snapped. “But everyone has to do it. Now, either quit whining and join us, or get the hell out of my house.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll stay,” he sighed dramatically. Then he turned to Alix and held out a hand. “I believe you owe me twenty euros.” Alix grumbled, but handed over the money. Marinette raised a questioning eyebrow. Alix went back to her math homework, but Kim was all too happy to explain: “Alix and I made a bet before coming over. She thought that if I complained non-stop and didn’t work, it would take you half an hour for you to lose your patience. I said half an hour was too short, and it would take at least forty minutes. Thank god you snapped at exactly the forty minute mark, or I wouldn’t have been able to afford the sweatshirt I’ve been wanting!”

“You guys are assholes,” Marinette laughed. She dragged Kim down next to her and they continued working on homework for the next hour. Eventually, Kim claimed his brain was about to explode, and he wanted to go home and take a nap. Alix’s dad called her, and she had to leave as well--some sort of family emergency. Marinette didn’t pry.

“Your friends are gone?” Sabine asked, packing a basket. Marinette nodded.

“Mom, what are you doing?”

“Yesterday’s Makara attack was a surprise for everyone. Usually they attack in the first or last week of the month, you know. Everyone’s just being extra cautious in case there’s another surprise attack. Yesterday we were stuck underground for quite some time. We missed dinner, and your father was quite upset about that.”

Marinette grabbed an apple and bit into it. She pulled out her phone and started checking any updates on the Ladyblog. They were silent for a few moments, and her mom continued to pack the basket. Marinette yawned, then winced as pain stabbed down her back. Sabine paused while setting some water bottles in the basket and studied her daughter.

“You look stiff,” she noted. Marinette tensed and looked at her mom.

“I’m fine,”

“You know what, I haven’t seen you practice your martial arts in a long time. Come on, we don’t want to be embarrassed in front of your uncles when you next see them.”

“No,” Marinette whined. She was so tired, and she didn’t want to spar with her. Sabine never let her win. “I don’t want to!”

“Marinette, stop complaining. Did you have anything better to do right now?” Sabine was using her ‘no nonsense mother’ voice. Marinette knew it was futile to argue. It didn’t stop her from trying.

“I’m tired,” she said. “I just want to be on my phone and do nothing.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to do nothing when you can’t move your body. And besides, exercise will wake you right up if you’re tired.”

There was just no arguing with the woman, she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Marinette tossed away her apple core and went to her room to change into exercise wear. By the time she was ready and walking down the stairs, Sabine was already waiting for her at the front door. The two of them walked to the park. Marinette listened dutifully as her mother complained about all the stupid decisions her Uncle Delun had been making lately.

“I left the gang in their care,” her mother reiterated for the fourth or fifth time. “And they’re running it to the ground!” They continued walking. Marinette studied the city around her. Since the Makara attacks, it hadn’t been as lively of a city as it once had been, neither was it as beautiful. People stopped tending to their gardens. Usually they saw no point in doing so since it could be destroyed at any time. Today, though, Paris was like a ghost town. Only a few people were out, and Sabine seemed to be the only carefree one. Marinette and her mom stepped over a pile of rubble, and Marinette stumbled over a loose stone. They continued walking, and Marinette continued pretending to listen to Sabine’s complaints. The park was vacant, not a soul in sight. The two of them stopped where Sabine thought they would have stable footing. “Alright, into your stance.”

Marinette bent her knees, brought her arms up, and shifted her weight so she would be able to more quickly. Sabine came at her as fast as a viper. That had been her nickname, back when she was still active in the gang. The Viper. Sabine Cheng had been known throughout the greater Paris area, and no one had dared cross her or her gang while she had been leader. Then, she met Tom Dupain, and fell in love. She’d left the gang to live a relatively normal life with him, leaving the gang in charge of her brothers. They did alright as leaders, but they weren’t as ruthless as Sabine had been, and the Cheng gang no longer inspired the same fear as it once did. Marinette knew her mom didn’t miss her old days in the gang, but she sure liked to complain about what an awful job her brothers were doing.

“We should do this more often,” Sabine frowned, landing another hit on Marinette’s leg. Marinette knew her mom was holding back and wasn’t hitting as hard as she could, but damn did it still hurt.

“Mom! That hurt!”

“You’ll be fine,” Sabine landed a combination of punches near her daughter’s face. None of them landed, but Marinette could feel the air from her mom’s fists. She managed to dodge one. “That was good,” her mom praised before swiping Marinette’s feet out from under her. “That was not good. Be more vigilant, Marinette. You’ll never know when you’ll be fighting someone for real.”

Oh, Marinette had a pretty good idea when she would be needing these skills in the future. She really didn’t want to be here, but she needed to keep her skills sharp. She jumped up, ignoring the blisters on the balls of her feet. She readied herself and attacked her mother first. Sabine easily dodged and counter-striked everything Marinette threw at her. She couldn’t land even one kick.

“You damn Viper,” Marinette panted, leaning on her knees. Sabine pulled her up.

“You need to stand up straight after working so hard. It’ll allow your lungs to expand and take in more air.” she advised, getting ready to head back home. “You did alright. We’ll have to work more on your stance and movements. You’re getting sloppy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Marinette stretched as the two of them walked through the destroyed streets of Paris. A young family rode by on a pedicab. They seemed to be heading to Bunker Q. It wasn’t abnormal for cautious families to camp out in bunkers. Sometimes, on the news, people predicted when there was going to be a Makara attack, and citizens tended to hide themselves away during the expected days. Other times, young families got nervous and decided to hide out in bunkers, just to be on the safe side. No one walked around after a Makara attack. The city’s buildings were usually still too unstable to trust their structural integrity, and it was too early to know about any side effects from the Akuma.

“This sucks,” Marinette grumbled, cutting off whatever her mom was talking about. “I can’t believe how stupid this is. Why the hell are the Makara targeting Paris? And when can we go back to normal? I hate this.”

It was nice to just complain to her mom without thinking about how this was her responsibility. Paris would be left alone as soon as she figured out where the Makara were coming from, and how to defeat whoever was making them.

“I’m sorry, Dear,” Sabine linked her arm with Marinette’s. “It’ll be ok. Things are moving, shifting towards the better, always. I promise, this won’t last forever.”

“I wish it would end now.”

They continued to walk, both silent. Then, they both paused. Sometimes, there was just a feeling of danger in the air. Not everyone could always feel it, but at that moment, Marinette felt it, and she would have bet all her money that her mom felt it, too. It was like a small snake, slithering up her back--a sort of warning for something bigger about to occur. The air grew humid, and Sabine pushed Marinette down the street. The alarms started.

“Marinette, run towards the bunker,” Sabine barked, running towards their bakery. “I’ll get your father.”

“No!” Marinette grabbed her mom’s arm. “What if you get hurt?”

“Marinette, now!” Sabine ran off, leaving Marinette on the sidewalk. This was wrong. Why was there another Makara so soon? When they had first appeared, it took at least a month before another showed up. Lately, they had been coming every dozen days or so, but never more than once a week. Two days in a row? It didn’t make sense. She swallowed down any fear and ran into the nearest building.

“Spots on!” She closed her eyes for the flash of light, and then ran out into the street. A mob of people were running towards the bunkers. She reached forward and grabbed someone at random. “Give me your phone!”

The man fumbled with his pockets, gave her his phone, told her the password, and ran out back into the crowd. She opened it and went to check the Ladyblog. No new post yet. She had no way to tell if the Makara was advanced or not. She looked around, searching for her parents. The alarm continued to ring throughout the streets, ringing in her ears. She couldn’t see them. It didn’t matter if it was advanced or not, she needed to go to the Makara, to keep it away from these people. She threw her yo-yo around a flagpole and swung herself through the city. Her muscles trembled as they struggled to keep her up.

“Tikki, can you tell if the Makara is strong, like before?”

“Yes.” Tikki said immediately. Marinette could feel the Makara’s footsteps. They made the ground rumble, and she could feel the vibrations through her yo-yo, like a spiderweb.

“Yes, you can tell, or yes it is?” Marinette did her best to keep from losing her temper with the little kwami. Honestly, she tried so hard. The kwami made it so difficult sometimes.

“Both!”

Great. Fantastic. Just what she needed. She looked ahead, where a mountain-like shape loomed. It was a bright day, not a cloud in the sky. Yet, there seemed to be a curtain of mist surrounding the Makara. All she could make out was a silhouette. She slowed as she got closer to the Makara. The light reflected off of something on the Makara’s back. It looked like liquid. Dread pooled in her stomach, and a feeling of emptiness flowed through her body. She knew what this Makara would do to her. To her right, an Akuma flew by, heading straight towards the Makara. Marinette didn’t try to stop it. For some reason, the Akuma weren’t affected by the advanced Makara.

Ladybug touched down next to the police. In their hands were canisters of liquid nitrogen. Not a single one of them looked as they usually did. The gray mist surrounded them, and puddles of silvery liquid dripped from the Makara onto the street. The Akuma fluttered over the top of the Makara, and soon it was out of sight. Marinette fought through the crippling sense of sadness and turned to the nearest officer.

“Have you found a mouth, or eyes?”

It took a second for the officer to register her question, but when he did, all the officer did was shake his head. He sighed and his head drooped. Marinette fought the urge to follow his lead and give up the fight without even trying. It wasn’t in her to allow defeat without trying to win. She clenched her fists and looked at the Makara. It was walking past her, and some of the liquid dripped from its back onto her head. The dreariness almost overwhelmed her, and she swayed on her feet.

“Here,” she handed the officer the phone she had borrowed. “Make sure this gets to its rightful owner after the attack.” The officer limply grabbed the phone and trotted off.

“Any eyes or a mouth?” Cat Noir dropped down next to her, sounding exhausted. She shook her head. His shoulder slumped. “I was afraid of that.”

Marinette gathered all her energy and followed the Makara, stumbling as it stepped. It was huge. Streams of silver liquid trailed after it, and she did her best not to step in those. She knew from experience: the less contact she made with the liquid, the better.

The Makara was odd. It didn’t seem like an animal. Instead, it seemed to be a moving mountain. Four turtle legs held up a flat disk, and on top of that was a mound of scales, shaped like a hill. Somewhere from on top there must have been a spout, because liquid continually flowed from the creature’s back. Marinette couldn’t see a head or a tail. It walked slowly, not seeming to have a purpose. It was so wide that with every step it ran into the buildings on either side of the street.

Marinette cast her yo-yo, wrapping it around the creature’s legs, tangling them with the rope. The Makara was big, but slow, and not very strong. It pulled lightly against the restraints, not understanding why it couldn’t move forward anymore. It let out a despaired wail which echoed through the streets. It reverberated in her chest, and she wanted to cry.

“Let it go!” Cat Noir ran to her, trying to snatch the yo-yo from her hands. He had tears in his eyes. “Can’t you hear it? Let it go!”

“Get away!” she twisted away from him. “It’s a trick! The Makara is advanced, and it’s forcing you to be sad!”

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t--” Cat Noir lunged for her yo-yo but she curled up, keeping him from getting it.

“Lucky Charm!” If Cat Noir hit her Lucky Charm out of her hands again, she’d be pissed. Her hands glowed, and she had to let go of her yo-yo to grab onto the item she created. The Makara made another noise, and Cat Noir backed up from her, pressing his hands over his ears. The Makara continued to wail, and it sent shivers up Marinette’s spine. No, she couldn’t succumb to it. She needed to protect her parents, and all the other people relying on her. She started running after the Makara, but something stopped her. She froze, and turned back. Cat Noir was standing frozen, like he’d seen the most horrific scene of his life.

“Cat Noir,” she called. He turned away from her, hunching his back. Marinette didn’t have time for this, but she knew what he was feeling; she couldn’t leave him alone like this. The Makara continued wandering through the streets, dragging her yo-yo behind it.

“Make sure you get that back,” Tikki said. “If it’s lost, it won’t appear the next time you transform.”

“Cat Noir!” She grabbed his shoulder and turned him to face her. “You have to snap out of it!”

He shook his head. “I can’t--it’s too much.”

“You’re my partner, damnit!” She growled. “You don’t have a choice. This isn’t about you, or me. It’s about the people underground right now, people we care about, who don’t even have the choice of defending themselves. We have to be strong for them.”

He looked at her, finally. His eyes were so desolate, Marinette knew it wasn’t just the Makara’s influence which was making him act like this. There was something more. She wanted him to tell her, to rely on her. She wanted to be there for him and fight anything that made him unhappy or sad. She couldn’t. She had a job to do, and so did he. She hefted up the object in her arms.

“Can you carry me and this sledgehammer?” She asked. He didn’t move for a second, and Marinette could literally hear the time ticking away. She only had so long to remain. And, they still needed to defeat the Akuma and purify it. Nine minutes left. This would be impossible. No. She mentally shook her head. Impossible was only a word for losers. She would not lose--she couldn’t afford to. “Cat Noir!” she snapped, and he seemed to shake free of whatever was haunting his mind. He nodded, grabbed her around the waist, and extended the staff.

They sailed through the streets of Paris, quickly catching up to the Makara. Marinette forced her eyes open and watched for the Akuma.

“Get us higher,” she said. “We need to see what the Akuma can do.” He did as she ordered, and the staff curved beneath them. That was neat. She wrapped her legs around the staff, stabilizing herself. Her fingers were starting to cramp from holding onto the sledgehammer for so long.

“There,” He pointed. His voice wasn’t as strong as it usually was, but at least he was speaking. “It looks like it’s...drinking?”

That was exactly what it looked like. Oddly enough, the Akuma seemed to be fashioned after a butterfly. With the moth-like qualities all Akuma tended to have anyway, it looked quite odd. The wings were larger than normal, and colorful. Its body was as hairy as all over the Akuma, but it had strange clothes on top, with layers upon layers of butterflies on the fabric. There was a signature red glow on the Akuma’s face, but the nose was more like a curled ribbon than a human nose.

Marinette watched as the long nose unfurled and sunk into the thick silvery liquid the Makara was secreting. Wherever the nose touched, the liquid disappeared, almost like it evaporated. The Akuma’s stomach seemed to inflate as it drank, until the Akuma was almost completely spherical. Then, the nose retreated, and the Akuma deflated, releasing a hissing sound. It was the strangest thing.

“Get us right over that dry spot,” Marinette said. Seven minutes left. “I’ll use the sledgehammer to crack the shell.”

“Do you think that’ll work?”

“I can’t think of anything else, and you seem fresh out of ideas.”

“Can’t argue with you there,” he looked down at the Makara. They were right next to the Akuma, which was looking at them, almost expectantly. Marinette swung the hammer down. The end got bigger as it got closer to her intended target, and it made a cracking sound as the metal met the scale mound. More liquid poured over that spot, and Marinette felt such extreme sadness that she was exhausted. It was like feeling this emotion was physically draining her energy, just like a long run. “I’m going to have to drop you on the shell,” Cat Noir said.

“No!” Marinette couldn’t keep the horror from her voice. She remembered what it was like to be wading in the liquid. It was like all her fight had left her, everything which made her her. The feelings had entered her conscious without her knowledge or permission, and they had lingered in her heart for days afterwards.

“The staff is straining too hard. I’ll get your yo-yo while I’m down on street level.” He knew the limitations of his staff more than she did, she really couldn't argue with him about this. The Akuma sucked more liquid into his nose, and Marinette swung the sledgehammer down with incredible force. Her body vibrated and her teeth clacked together. She didn't want to step in the silvery liquid again. She really didn't want to. “It's not about us, remember? We don’t have a choice,” Cat Noir said, silently but assuredly. Damn him, she couldn't very well argue against her own words. 

“Don’t leave me here for too long.” A part of her wondered if he would come back. She hadn't been very nice to him, and he already seemed very reluctant to battle the Makara at all. The idea of being stuck in the liquid, in a literal pool of misery, had her hair standing on edge. She braced herself. He was her partner, and she was just going to have to trust him.

He dropped her onto the Makara’s back, and her feet landed in the silvery liquid. 

When Marinette was young, her family had gone to the beach. She had been obsessed with the idea of making a sandcastle, and made dozens of them that day. The last one she’d made was right in front of the water. She’d had her back to it, determined to surprise the ocean with her beautiful sandcastle. A wave had come from nowhere and crashed over her head. It had scared her so badly that she wouldn’t stop crying until her father bought her an icecream cone. Stepping into the liquid was like being surprised by that wave again. The despair covered her so completely, she was convinced it was a physical drape on top of her. All the colors around her dulled, and her knees gave out underneath her. She hated this feeling. She couldn’t survive this feeling.

The Akuma hissed at her, and Marinette stared at it. Its nose dove into the Makara’s back once again, drinking from the Makara’s back. Marinette scooped out a handful of the liquid. It wasn’t as thin as water, and it shone like metal. It was almost like a slime. The Akuma hissed at her again, completely round. She stood up on shaky knees and lifted the hammer. Was it always this heavy? She trudged through the thick goop, raised the hammer above her head, and slammed it down on the shell with as much force as she could muster. It wasn’t a very strong hit. The Akuma didn’t change facial expressions, but she could feel it glaring at her. Just as well. She felt like glaring at herself. She was sad, tired, and cold to the bone. There didn’t seem to be an end to this fight, and her earrings had just beeped in her ears. Five minutes.

She raised the sledgehammer again. The shell didn’t break, but it cracked. A small flame of hope lit in her chest. She could do this. She raised the hammer and strained her back as she brought it down. It clanged, and the ringing momentarily blocked out the Makara’s never-ending wail. Again, the Akuma sucked up the liquid, and Marinette swung down the hammer. The end of the hammer grew so large, it was almost comical, but it worked. The shell cracked, and the Makara screamed. Liquid poured out of the shell, and the Makara seemed to shrink. Her earrings beeped. Four minutes.

“Ladybug, here!” Cat Noir called, holding out a hand to her. He was hope--a way to get out of this swamp of despair. She reached for him desperately, leaving the hammer behind. He handed her her yo-yo. “This was a lot harder to find than you might’ve thought.”

Her earrings beeped again. She couldn’t stay, though she wanted to. “I need to leave,” she told him. The liquid clung to her legs, and it felt like lead. How long had it been since her body didn’t ache? “Try and get the Akuma to suck up as much of this silver stuff as it can. When you Cataclysm its weak point, keep the butterfly in a jar, I’ll get to it later.”

Cat Noir nodded, and she swung away. She might not have wanted him when he first showed up, but having a partner really was convenient sometimes.

Adrien watched Ladybug swing away. He wished he could leave with her. Lately, she had been leaving all the time-consuming tasks to him. It felt like a senior employee pushing their paperwork onto an underpaid intern or something. He landed on the ground, watching as the Makara shriveled away. So far, they’d faced this kind of Makara twice, and both times, they wouldn’t have been able to defeat it without the help of an Akuma.

Adrien sighed in relief as the putrid smell of the Makara made way for a pleasant spray of water. Liquid pooled in the city, and the Akuma got to work drinking it all up. Adrien felt himself panting. He hadn’t even done very much, but his entire body felt drained. He followed the Akuma as it quickly made its way through the street, cleaning up all the liquid it could find. The Akuma seemed to love the stuff, but Adrien couldn’t stand it.

It was thick, like a milkshake, and it almost seemed to pull him into it. Every time he tried to lift his foot out of a puddle, he was slightly afraid he wouldn't be able to. Not to mention, it was so cold. Just looking at the liquid froze his bones and made his teeth chatter. The cold was usually accompanied by a numbness which completely enveloped him. It wrapped around his lungs until it was hard to breathe, and he felt almost compelled to curl up in a circle and sleep his life away.

The last time he had faced this type of Makara with Ladybug, he had been terrified out of his mind. Now, he was so sad he could cry himself to sleep. He made a note of that. The Makara’s powers seemed to evolve and change, depending on how the victim was feeling.

“Come on, kid, the Akuma’s about to lose it. Best Cataclysm it now,” Plagg advised. Adrien went through the motions of destroying the weak point of the Akuma. He told the officers to capture the butterfly and post where they planned to keep it on the Ladyblog. Ladybug would purify it when she had the chance. All the officers seemed as tired as he was, and they didn’t do more than wave at him as he left. If there was one thread of a silver lining to this type of Makara, it was that it kept the police from yelling at him.

Adrien went home, de-transforming before he got to his house. He entered the code to get in, waved to his frantic bodyguard, and trudged to his room. He flopped on his bed and listened. There was no noise. Everything was silent. No one was running around, beside themselves with worry. No one barged into his room to ask him where he had been. It seemed that no one, especially not his father, had noticed he had been missing for the entire Makara attack. It wasn’t like his father was in a bunker. For whatever reason, Gabriel Agreste was almost nonchalant about the Makara and Akuma attacks. It would have been disturbing, if Adrien wasn’t more busy focusing on the fact that Gabriel was even more nonchalant about his son’s safety.

That numbness came back over him, and he shivered. Adrien stood up. He needed a shower. That would cheer him up. He passed by Plagg as he gathered a pair of comfortable sweats.

“Would talking about it help?” Plagg’s tail twitched when Adrien didn’t respond. “I can easily add a bell and collar to the suit, you know.” It was a threat to get Adrien to respond. It worked.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, moving towards the bathroom. “I think it would.” Adrien left the door open and he got prepared for his shower. He picked out a citrus scented shampoo and conditioner set and stepped into the shower. It almost boiled his skin off, but that was what Adrien needed.

The warmth slowly seeped through him, and his teeth gradually stopped chattering. Plagg sat patiently on Adrien’s sinktop, liking his paw and rubbing that paw along his face. If he didn’t know any better, Adrien would have thought he was a real cat.

“I can’t believe he didn’t notice I was gone,” Adrien mumbled, running the shampoo through his hair. Steam clouded the glass doors of the shower. “I know mom’s gone. He’s not the only one missing her. She was my family, too. Don’t I matter? Why doesn’t he care about me as much as he cares about mom?”

Plagg said nothing. Adrien stood under the shower for a moment, silent. There were so many thoughts buzzing around his head, so many things to worry about, it didn’t seem fair. His mom hadn’t been very present in his life, but apparently, she had been the glue which kept their family together. He missed her, of course he did, but it seemed like his father was obsessed with her disappearance. Lately, he had seen less and less of his father as the anniversary of his mother’s disappearance approached. In a few weeks, it would be two years since anyone had seen her.

His mother’s disappearance was sudden and jarring. It had left him feeling paranoid and helpless, and completely vulnerable. His father’s disappearance had been more gradual. And, it was his own choice to leave Adrien. Maybe that was why it hurt so much. His father and him had been so close, once upon a time. Now, when Gabriel looked at him, it was like he was staring at a stranger. No matter how much Adrien tried to convince himself that it didn’t hurt anymore, that he was numb to the disappointment and pain of it all, it was a lie. It hurt every time he remembered how his father used to be, and how long it had been since he’d seen him enjoy life like he used to.

Ladybug’s words echoed in his head. He didn’t have a choice. He was a superhero, and he couldn’t afford to be weak.

“Don’t go internalizing again,” Plagg moaned dramatically. “I’m here, aren’t I? Speak!”

“I’m not strong enough to do this,” Adrien said. The water ran over his shoulders and back. It was so humid in the shower it was getting hard to breathe, but he didn’t want to make the water any colder. “Ladybug is so competent, she doesn’t need me. She kept telling me to leave. Maybe I should listen to her. I have enough going on in my life as it is. I can’t be like her; I can’t be strong enough to carry Paris. I need to give up the Miraculous, and let someone else take over.”

Adrien grabbed a loofah and started scrubbing his skin. Plagg stretched and arched his back.

“Maybe you’re right,” Plagg said. “Maybe you’re not as strong as Ladybug, and maybe you can’t carry Paris on your shoulders. Maybe you get overwhelmed sometimes, and maybe she would be better off without you. Does that really matter, though? She might be able to do better with another partner, but would you be able to live with yourself if you gave up being Cat Noir?”

“Wow, that is just about the worst pep-talk I’ve ever heard.”

“If you give up the Miraculous, you can never get it back.” Plagg said. “Is that really what you want?”

He conditioned his hair slowly, thinking. If he gave up the Miraculous, life would go back to normal. He’d pretend to be happy in front of Chloe and go to school. He’d go to his tutors and piano lessons and fencing classes. He’d listen obediently when Natalie told him when and where his next photo shoot would be. He’d dress exactly as the photographer or designer demanded, and then he’d come back home to an empty house and have dinner alone.

The Miraculous and the powers that came with it were a burden, and added extra responsibility to his life. Sometimes it felt like he’d taken too much onto his plate, and it was life was spiraling out of control. But he’d fallen in love with Cat Noir for the freedom it gave him. He was constantly told what to do, and how to do it. When he was Cat Noir, he didn’t have that pressure on him. Sure, Ladybug ordered him around, but it was out of a concern for Paris’s safety, not from a desire to dictate his every move.

He loved being a superhero, and being a part of the reason Paris was safe for another day. He craved the feeling of wind rushing through his hair and into his face, and the stress which came with the job. Giving up the Miraculous meant he would lose it for forever. Did he want that?

The water was getting too hot, and he wasn’t sure if it was water or sweat on his face. Adrien adjusted the temperature. The steam started to clear.

“I don’t want that,” Adrien admitted, shutting off the water. The bathroom was full of steam, and it felt refreshing, like stepping into a cleansing sauna after a day full of work. “Thanks, Plagg.”

“No problem. Now, in exchange, give me real food and quit stuffing those disgusting Twinkies in my mouth.”

“Impossible,” Adrien said, pulling on his sweatpants and walking back into his room. “I already bought 100 boxes--it’s always cheaper to buy in bulk. No one else can eat them but you.” He shrugged sympathetically at Plagg’s flabbergasted face. “Come on, we have some work to do.”

He sat down in front of his computer, and turned it on. His fingers were typing in a few keywords when someone knocked at his door. He sighed, and Plagg frowned. It had to be Natalie. No one else ever knocked at his door.

“You’re late,” she said sans preamble. Natalie started walking away, heels clicking on the hard tile floor.

“Late for what?” he asked. Natalie paused and turned to him, as expressionless as ever, yet exuding a sense of exasperation.

“Your piano lesson,” she said, checking the time. “It’s 6:07. Really, Adrien, you must keep track of the time. I checked your sleep cycle for the last week. You’ve barely been getting seven and a half hours of sleep. You’re a model, your face--”

“--Is my life,” Adrien pursed his lips. “Yeah, I know.”

“This is unacceptable,” Natalie continued, unbothered by his interruption. “If you ruin your sleep cycle, your skin will suffer. We can’t have that.”

Adrien nodded. She practically galloped down the hall, probably heading to his father’s room. Adrien made a face. He couldn’t believe she liked him. Even more unbelievably, his father didn’t notice.

“If you stop by the kitchen, I’m in the mood for broccoli.”

“How on earth is broccoli chaotic?” Adrien mumbled, pulling on a shirt.

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” Plagg huffed. Adrien nodded distractedly, rushing to leave the room and head to his piano lesson. He might not like playing, but he didn’t want to waste his tutor’s time. He closed the door softly behind him.

Plagg sighed as the kid left the room. He was gone so often, and there wasn’t much in his room for a kwami to do. He stretched and strutted around the room. One hundred steps to the right. Three hundred to the left. One hundred. Three hundred. Plagg couldn’t count how many times he’d walked the perimeter of the room. He sighed and curled up on his partner’s bed. It was so comfortable it actually took effort to stay awake on it. Plagg didn’t care to do anything like that. He closed his eyes and dozed off.

He wasn’t sure when, but eventually the kid came back. He seemed tired and not in the mood to talk. Plagg yawned and hopped out of the bed, following him around.

“Did you go to the kitchen?”

“Fresh out of broccoli,” Adrien apologized. He fumbled with something in his hands, and Plagg’s stomach turned with the familiar sound of crinkling plastic. “I figured you’d still be hungry, though, and brought your favorite snack.”

“That’s not funny!” Plagg hissed. “I act like your therapist for almost twenty minutes and this is how you repay me? I change my mind--give up the Miraculous, I don’t care.”

Adrien laughed and disappeared into the bathroom for his ‘nighttime routine.’ Plagg flopped onto the carpet. He closed his eyes and rested.

“Don’t you do anything but sleep?” Adrien asked, climbing into his own bed.

“I would if there were anything better to do. It's just so boring around here,” Plagg grumbled. He sat up and looked at his partner. “I’m going out. See you tomorrow!”

“Where could you possibly be going?” Adrien frowned.

“Unlike you, I have a social life.” Plagg jumped up a few bookshelves and exited through a window in the kid’s room. He didn’t look back and check, but he knew Adrien. The kid probably shrugged, put on his sleep mask, and went to bed.

Plagg wandered through the city. He knew where he was going, but his legs were so small, sometimes it took him an hour to get there. He sniffed the air. Ah, he loved the smell of decay in the air. He continued to strut through the rubble and over the half destroyed buildings. Sure, it was sad that the city was being attacked by the Makara, but it wasn’t that bad. Plagg was thousands of years old. He had seen true devastation. This? It was an inconvenience. The people would repopulate and get over it. In about fifteen years, they wouldn’t even remember the Makara attacks.

A pink blur flew over him.

“Plagg!”

“It’s so unfair that you can fly,” he complained, lifting his arms up so she would carry him. “I’m stuck on the ground.”

Tikki giggled. “You’re just as grumpy as ever,”

“You would be, too, if you had to live with my partner.”

“You don’t like him”

“Nah, he’s great. It’s just that his house is boring. There’s nothing to do, and he forces me to eat twinkies all day.”

“It’s a good choice,” Tikki mused. “They are the most chaotic of all foods.”

“Stop that,” Plagg snapped. “You sound just like him.”

Tikki giggled again, spinning in the air and giving Plagg motion sickness. “I’ve been having a great time,” she told him. “My girl is a fashion designer, and her family owns a bakery! I get all the leftover cookies and cakes they haven’t sold!”

“Do they have bread?” Plagg asked longingly. It was nowhere near the level of chaos cheese had, but bread was plenty chaotic in its own way.

“Of course,” Tikki sniffed haughtily. “Tom, my partner’s dad, likes to say that Dupains learn to bake before they learn to read.”

“Wow, he sounds lame.”

“No, he’s a sweetheart,” Tikki defended. “The lamest one in the whole family is my partner. All she does is work all day. Just watching her is exhausting. As I was leaving, she was working a shift at the bakery.”

“Wow. Sounds exhausting.” Plagg deadpanned. “Meanwhile my kid has his day full from morning till dusk; he’s got school and tutors and piano lessons and Chinese lessons and fencing lessons,”

“That sounds really boring. My girl is fun!” Tikki frowned, almost dropping Plagg. “Well, sometimes. When she’s not in a bad mood.” Plagg ignored her.

“And he has to get eight hours of sleep a day for his modeling job.” Tikki started steering them to the right, towards Master Fu’s apartment. “His mom went missing or something and his dad’s been ignoring him ever since.”

“Well my girl’s family runs a gang!” Tikki sang proudly. Plagg was pretty sure she got that wrong, so he didn’t bother commenting on it. He loved his counterpart, but he had to admit she was an airhead. They reached Master Fu’s apartment and phased through the door. Plagg took a deep breath and sighed in content. The smell of week-old beer and pathetic old men never got old.

“Tikki, Plagg!” Wayzz cried from in front of the television. “I haven’t had the chance to clean up yet!”

“Where’s Master Fu?” Tikki chirped, dropping Plagg. Like all cats, he landed on his feet.

“In the bathroom, I think. Or maybe he’s in bed? I don’t know; today’s been a bad day.”

“What more could you expect?” Plagg wandered through the apartment, unearthing all the bottles of alcohol he could. Oh, he loved the smell of that. “You tricked him into becoming the guardian of the Miraculous without telling him everything that came with the title. Of course he’d drown himself in alcohol. I’m just surprised it took this long.”

“I didn’t trick him into anything!” That was one of the weird things about Wayzz. He was always so adamant that he’d done nothing wrong and that Fu was just a terrible person. Who was he trying to fool? Plagg had been there when Fu had first become the guardian, and had watched his decline ever since. Even Tikki, who wasn’t the brightest bulb in the hardware store, knew the truth.

“Well, you sort of did,” Tikki landed in front of the television. “Oh, do you mind if I change the channel? I think Project Runway is on.”

“No, that show got cancelled years ago, remember?” Plagg reminded her. He only remembered because Tikki had cried for days after the announcement. “Just leave the game on, you might like it.” Tikki pouted but sat down and started watching the match. The doorbell rang. Fu stumbled through his bedroom door. His hands were filled with empty bottles. He shuffled forward and dropped them on the kitchen floor. Somehow, Wayzz didn’t seem surprised by this. He actually flew between the bottles and caught them all before they hit the ground and shattered. Then, classic Wayzz, he started to rinse them in the kitchen sink before dumping them in the recycle container.

“That’ll be twenty euros,” a tired adolescent voice said from the doorway.

“Justin!” Fu cried happily. “Where have you been! I haven’t seen you in years!”

“Twenty euros,” Justin sounded like he was pleading. “Please, I have more stops on my route tonight.”

“Justin, come in!” Fu started to weep. “I’ve missed you. The last time I saw you, you were still a young child.”

“I saw you last week, sir,” Justin sounded uncomfortable, and patted the old man’s shoulder.

“Come in, please. I’ll get your money, but stay for a while. Please?”

Justin sighed and entered. Tikki and Plagg watched from the sofa. Wayzz sat next to them.

“That’s the pizza guy,” he said. “He reminds Fu of his nephew, and he gets pretty emotional about it.”

“Oh, hey, Wayzz,” Justin greeted as he sat in front of the TV. He noticed Plagg and Tikki. “Are you guys kwamis, too?” The black cat and ladybug gaped at him. Wayzz sighed and answered.

“Yes. This is the black cat, Plagg, the kwami of Cat Noir. This is Tikki, the ladybug kwami.”

“Why does he know about us!” Plagg demanded. “This has to be against the rules or something!” Wayzz shrugged pathetically. 

“Hi, Justin,” Tikki greeted. She lifted her arms and showed off a small t-shirt Plagg hadn’t noticed before. “Do you like my shirt? My girl made it for me. I think it’s ugly but I didn’t tell her because I think she thought it was cute.”

“Yeah, it’s nice,” Justin nodded, then opened the pizza box in his lap. “Do either of you eat pizza?”

“Cheese and bread? Yes!”

“One day, Peizhi got really drunk,” Wayzz explained as Plagg grabbed a slice of pizza. “He ordered pizza, and Justin came by. For whatever reason, the master decided it was a good idea to tell Justin all of our secrets. Now, he knows almost as much as I do.”

“To be honest,” Justin admitted while craning his neck to search for Fu, “I didn’t believe the guy until I saw Wayzz for myself. Since then, he’s forced me to be the only one to come deliver pizza. Something about it being bad if more people found out or something.”

“Master Fu said that?” Tikki questioned. Justin shook his head.

“Nope, Wayzz did.” He turned and yelled into the dark apartment. “Fu! I’ve got more pizza to deliver! If I don’t leave now, I’ll be over forty minutes, and we’ll have to pay for their delivery cost!”

Fu sobbed as he entered the room with some crumpled bills in his hand. “My only nephew, and he can’t even bother to spend a few minutes with me.” He turned and glared at Wayzz. “This wouldn’t be happening if it weren’t for you!”

“I told you,” Wayzz said tiredly. “I didn’t force you to do anything.”

“You didn’t t-t-tell me the truth!” Fu was swaying on his feet and stumbling over his words

Justin crept up to Fu, took the money out of his hand, and exited the apartment. Plagg and Tikki remained silent and watched from the couch.

“I told you everything you needed to know,” Wayzz placated. “Why don’t you go to bed? You’re getting a little worked up.”

“You bastard,” Fu slurred. His body listened to Wayzz, though, and he started wobbling to his bedroom. “I lost my family, I lost my life. I’ve lost everything, and now I can’t even die!” He started crying again. His wrinkles were like rivers carved out by the paths of his tears. “I just live and continue to watch horror after horror. I just want peace. I just want peace.”

Fu kept wailing about his lost life and how Wayzz had killed him. Plagg looked at Tikki, relieved that she seemed just as willing to leave as he was.

“It’s been fun,” Tikki said, floating towards the door. Wayzz watched them leave. “But I think I need to leave now.”

“Yeah,” Plagg agreed. “My kid has a photo shoot tomorrow and I need to go home.”

Tikki lifted Plagg again and they headed towards the door. Wayzz stopped them with a question.

“You don’t blame me, do you?”

Plagg wished Tikki wouldn’t turn around. She did. They faced their friend, basically their brother. He lowered himself to the ground, head bowed. His arms were crossed in front of him, and Plagg couldn’t remember a time when he had seen the calm, composed, finicky kwami look so beaten down.

“I do.” Tikki said. Plagg wanted to strangle her for a second. Didn’t she see that Wayzz already felt bad enough? Plagg opened his mouth to say something, but his voice stopped. He couldn’t say he did--that would just be hurtful. Still, he couldn’t say he didn’t blame him. Kwamis weren’t able to lie.

“Sometimes, I wonder if I should blame myself.” Wayzz looked up and smiled at them sadly. “Good night. I hope you stop by again. Maybe next time you’ll stay for the whole game?”

“Sure,” Plagg promised, and Tikki agreed. Then, they headed out into the cool Parisian night.

Tikki hummed as she floated back to her partner’s home. It had been a long time since her Ladybug lived in such a comfortable situation. The bed was soft, the house was heated, and there were always snacks lying around for Tikki to much on!

“Hey, Marinette,” Tikki greeted, entering through the room’s skylight. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“What?” Marinette looked up from her sewing machine. “Where have you been?”

“I was spending time with the black cat’s kwami.” Tikki floated down and headed to a pile of fashion magazines. Marinette made a point to buy every fashion magazine she came across. Whenever she was done looking through it, Tikki was free to browse them. A lot of them had missing pages. Marinette had the habit of ripping out designs she liked and taping them on her walls. “Oh, and with the master. He wasn’t doing very well.”

Marinette faced her and rubbed her eyes, red from sleep deprivation.

“You know, if you go to sleep now, you’ll get two hours of sleep before you have to wake up tomorrow.”

Marinette mumbled something before stumbling to the bathroom in the hall. Tikki floated behind her. Unlike humans, kwamis didn’t need to sleep, so Tikki was just as energetic as she had been at noon. Her partner brushed her teeth, then swayed back to her bed. Tikki turned the lights off for her. Then, she grabbed as many magazines as her little arms could carry, and flew out to the balcony attached to Marinette’s room. She flipped through the pages, ooh-ing and ah-ing at the different designs.

Then, she got to an Agreste magazine. She flipped through the pages, largely unimpressed by the designs. Then, her breath caught. On page four, was a unique summer dress. The credited designer was some girl named Simone B. Tikki shook. She knew that dress. She’d seen Marinette sweat over it for weeks before finally thinking it finished and polished enough to submit for the Agreste Industries competition. Tikki had seen her partner agonize over submitting the dress; she knew how much Marinette loved it and wanted the credit for it. She’d watched as the emotions had flicked through Marinette’s face while she was making the decision to submit this summer dress. She’d dreaded it. Tikki knew her partner, and even though she’d get a few hundred euros from the competition, it wouldn’t satiate the ambitious designer inside of her. In face, it would probably only hurt her. Tikki looked back at the magazine. This was Marinette’s design. And no one knew it.

Chapter Text

The rotting smell in the air cleared, and Marinette breathed a sigh of relief. Whoever was creating the Makara seriously had too much time on their hands. Lately, the Makara had been attacking every week or so, which was seriously messing with Marinette’s body. She stretched her arms in front of her and groaned when her back cracked. Her partner’s ring beeped next to her.

“I have to go,” he said. Her heart wilted unhappily. She didn’t bother speaking and instead waved pathetically as he bounded away. Man, even with the new cat ears and bell, he looked good in that suit. And, he got to wear boots. Marinette tenderly walked across the street to the Akuma victim. Her suit was good, but it was basically a onesie. The fabric covering her feet had little structure, and felt a little like wearing thick socks. It was nice when she wanted to grip things with her toes, but otherwise, it was just uncomfortable.

“Hey,” Marinette sat down next to the Akuma victim. She was usually pretty good at this, but she felt a little unsure how to proceed with this boy in particular: Ivan Bruelle. She’d known him for years, and they used to be pretty good friends. Then, he’d found his crowd with Juleka and Nathaniel, and hadn’t spent much time with Marinette since. “Are you ok?”

Ivan shifted and nodded. He was a quiet guy, always had been. Marinette studied him. He’d grown taller since she’d last talked to him, and he’d dyed some of his hair. She wondered if he listened to Luka’s band. She mentally cringed as she thought of her ex-boyfriend.

“Any reason you were Akumatized? Anything I can help with? It might have sounded like I was being pretentious, but I meant it when I said anyone could lean on me. I’ll be there.”

Ivan was silent for a second, glancing around at the officers going around and checking the entire scene of the attack, and storing their liquid nitrogen containers. Marinette gave him time to think. She hadn’t ever been Akumatized, but she could imagine it was traumatizing. She wondered if he remembered anything from the last hour. She looked at him enviously. He certainly didn’t sport any injuries from the fight. Lucky.

“I was feeling insecure,” he confided, leaning closer to her and lowering his voice. “You see, there’s this girl in class I like. I want to tell her, but...I think she likes someone else. I guess the attack just came at a really bad time for me, and then the man asked if I wanted to help.”

“The man?” Ladybug asked. No Akuma victim had ever spoken about a man. “Who? What did he say? Did you see him?”

“No, no,” Ivan shook his head and furrowed his brows. “The man, he...he…” Ivan paused. “That’s so weird. I swear, I could remember it so vividly, but now, I can’t tell you anything. All I can remember is I was talking to a man before I was turned into an Akuma. I can’t even tell you if I saw him.”

Marinette nodded, trying not to show her frustration. She took a deep breath and changed her attitude. She shouldn’t be annoyed, she should be ecstatic! They now had a clue about the Akuma. She couldn’t wait to tell Cat Noir!

“That’s ok,” Marinette assured Ivan. “Don’t force yourself to remember. You might just make it worse.” Ivan nodded. “Why don’t you tell me more about the girl you like?”

“Her name’s Mylene.” Marinette was shocked, honestly. She never would have imagined it. Mylene was just about as different from Ivan as a person could get. While Ivan was tall and dark and foreboding, Mylene was short, cute, and bubbly. It was easy to get Mylene to open up about anything, and she cried and laughed with ease. Ivan had to be cajoled into sharing his last name. Still, it was cute, to see such an expressionless guy so flustered over a girl.

“You think she doesn’t like you?” That didn’t seem like the case to Marinette. It would be easy to tell if Mylene didn’t like someone. The girl practically wailed everytime she was forced to talk to Chloe.

“No, we’re friends.” Ivan said glumly. “She said I was her best friend, and she never wanted to lose me.” Marinette winced. Not the friend-zone.

“Ouch.”

“I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to tell her how I feel, but every time I do, I see her staring at this new kid in class.” Marinette’s stomach dropped, and she got a bad taste in her mouth. She had a feeling she knew who this new kid was.

“Do you know him, or if he likes her?”

Ivan shook his head. “I don’t talk to many people, especially not his kind. I don’t know. Maybe I should just give up. If she likes him, I want her to be happy.”

“Don’t give up!” Marinette couldn’t stand quitters. She stood up and helped Ivan stand, too. “You have to try before you quit; you can’t quit before you try. I think things will work out in your favor.”

Ivan smiled slightly at her as she led him home. “Thanks. I’ll try.” Well, she would make sure he would.

Adrien pulled out his computer and opened up his father’s records. It had been easy enough to get access. All he’d had to do was tell Natalie that he needed to check some things, and she’d given him all the usernames and passwords he’d needed. He’d been following through with his promise and was determined to find out who’d stolen Marinette’s work. It was surprisingly fun to dig through his father’s company. He felt like a detective in one of those TV shows he knew Gorilla liked watching.

He'd first followed through with the name Natalie provided, but that had only given him so much information. Gregoire Astruc had simply published the magazine, he didn't design anything, or take credit for any of the designs. He took the information given to him and printed it, and that was all. He'd given Adrien the names of all the designers he'd worked with on the last magazine publication, and that was when Adrien's investigation had really taken off.

He'd looked into all the designers who Gregoire had named, as well as some who were just a little suspicious in his eyes. From that list, he'd seen that some of them were about to be fired from a series of failed collections. Those designers he kept in a red list and moved onto his next stage of investigation. He'd gone back to the past ten competitions Agreste Industries held, looking for the winners. Nine of them had been Marinette. She’d never been mentioned in the Agreste magazine, as promised by the competition. Yet, as he dug through any complaints against Agreste Industries, he found that Marinette had never said anything about this. She'd taken the money, noticed her uncredited work in the magazine, and moved on. This shocked him.

For the few months he'd known Marinette, he'd seen her fight against every injustice and perceived slight sent her way. It was almost inconceivable that she would take this lying down. It just didn't make sense to him, why wouldn't she demand that Agreste Industries credit her for her designs?

He shook his head and closed the computer. He had no possible answer, he'd just have to ask her.

The next day, school day started like always. Slowly. Mrs. Bustier stuttered through her lesson before their first break, and then the class moved to the science room. Mrs. Mendeleiv was much harsher of a teacher, so she didn’t leave if Chloe and Marinette argued. Instead, she got involved as well, and was widely considered by the class as the worst teacher they had. Thankfully, her lesson passed quickly enough, and then the class got to enjoy their lunch break.

Adrien stood up, telling Chloe to go ahead without him. He had a few things to take care of. She nodded and sauntered off with Sabrina in tow. Nino followed after her like a love-sick puppy. Adrien looked at him sadly. The poor guy had no chance. The rest of the class fled the room, and Adrien scanned the crowd for a certain petite, short-tempered Asian girl.

“Hey.” Well, speak of the devil and she shall appear. Adrien looked down and looked at her. Her ice blue eyes were as neutral as she seemed able to get them, but they still glowed with a hint of heat, that subtle reminder that she thought he’d been one of the people stealing her designs. Her blue-black hair was loose around her shoulders, which looked really cool with her outfit. He wondered if she’d made the black turtleneck and brown pants herself, or if she’d bought them.

“Marinette,” he greeted, packing his things up. “I was actually looking for you.”

“Were you?” She didn’t sound like she believed him. She shook her head. “Wait, I can be nice.” She cleared her throat. “Were you?” Somehow she sounded more threatening the second time.

“Uh, yeah.” He looked at the door. “Can we walk to the cafeteria?” Marinette shook her head.

“No, I need to ask you something.”

Adrien cocked his head to the side. She clearly hated speaking to him. What could possibly get her to seek him out and attempt a civil conversation with him? Maybe she’d finally found proof that her designs had been stolen and was going to hand it to him and demand money, or she’d go public with the information. That seemed like the only logical reason she would put herself through the obvious torture of his company.

“I think I know what you’re going to say,” Adrien sighed. He’d been disliked before. Usually, it had to do with his modeling career, or his ‘glamorous’ lifestyle, or his family’s buckets of money. No one had ever disliked him because they thought he himself had done something to target them. It hurt, and it annoyed him, but in all honesty, he couldn’t blame her for arriving at the conclusion she did. She didn’t have all the facts. But he did, and he would tell her the truth. “I don’t have anything to do with it.”

“So, you don’t like Mylene?” Marinette narrowed her eyes at him. Adrien blinked. That came so out of left field he couldn’t compute what she was talking about.

“Wait, what?”

“You totally didn’t know what I was going to say,” Marinette rolled her eyes. “Why would you think you know what I’m thinking when you don’t even know me? That’s stupid, just like--” she cut herself off and took a calming breath. “Whatever, I’m getting off topic. Do you like Mylene?”

“Who’s Mylene?” Adrien asked, completely flabbergasted by this conversation.

“So, you don’t?”

“I don’t even know who she is.” Adrien wondered if this would be a good time to bring up his investigation into the theft of her designs. He was too curious, though. He would just tell her later. “Why do you want to know?”

“Ivan likes her, and he thinks she likes you.” Marinette started walking towards the exit. Adrien followed closely behind. He didn’t have to slow his pace at all for the short girl, which surprised him somewhat.

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Nothing. Now that I know you don’t like her, I can get to work setting them up together.”

“Can I help?” Adrien asked, excited. Marinette frowned at him.

“No.”

“Come on, you might need me!” Adrien urged. “Not all girls think like you. If you really want to give Ivan a chance with Mylene, don’t you think I could help?”

“How could you help?” Marinette snorted.

“I could figure out if she likes me or not!” He said excitedly, moving in front of her. “I’ll ask her out, and if she says no, you’ll know for sure she doesn’t like me.”

“Why would you do that?” Marinette questioned. “You apparently don’t even know who she is, and I doubt you know who Ivan is, either.”

“I…” Adrien swallowed. “I don’t want to be an outcast anymore. Chloe’s been my friend forever, and now I have Nino, but I’ve been in school for months, and I haven’t made a single friend unless it was an accident. I don’t want everyone to think I’m horrible, like you do.”

“I wouldn’t think you were so bad if you at least owned up to what you did and apologized.” Marinette glowered at him, and kept walking. Adrien wasn’t sure if he should follow anymore. She paused and looked back at him. “Well? You give me that whole speech and you give up a second later? What a loser.”

He sped to reach her. “So, you’re letting me help?”

“Don’t get me wrong,” she grimaced. “I’m not doing this to be nice, even though that should be the reason. I just don’t want other people to judge you from my experiences. Everyone deserves to see for themselves what kind of person you are.”

She had this amazing talent to make nice words sound like the vilest of all insults. They were silent as they rounded the corner to the cafeteria.

“Ok, there’s a slight problem,” Marinette admitted as they entered. “Ivan doesn’t know that we’re helping him.” Her eyes scanned the people sitting and eating. Adrien followed her line of sight when she found whoever she’d been looking for. There was a group of five or six people. There were two boys. One was skinny with red hair. The other was taller, beefier, with duo colored hair, and a skull on his shirt. The redhead was talking to Juleka and Rose. The stockier guy was staring at a short girl with rainbow highlights.

“What? Then how could you possibly know he likes her?”

“I have my ways,” Marinette defended. “Besides, look at them!” She pointed to the small rainbow-haired girl and her large shadow.

“I am,” Adrien confirmed. The guy wasn’t talking at all, and avoided eye contact at all costs. The girl didn’t seem to care and kept talking, pausing only to swallow mouthfuls of food. “Are you sure he likes her?”

“What do you expect him to do?” Marinette turned on him, exasperated. “Look into her eyes and confess his love for her every thirty seconds? Or maybe you think he should kneel in front of her and cry that he knows she likes someone else, but to please give him a chance?”

“Well it sounds stupid when you say it like that,” Adrien mumbled. “So, how are we going to get him to let us help him?”

“I was going to invite him to my family bakery after school today and talk to him.” Marinette looked at him pursed lips. It looked like someone was trying to pull all her teeth out. “You come, too. It’s the Dupain Bakery down the street. It’s hard to miss.”

Adrien nodded, excited. He knew Marinette didn’t like him, but that didn’t stop him from admiring him. He wished he was half as courageous and stubborn as she was. If he was, maybe he could have convinced his father to spend time with him, and maybe his life wouldn’t seem as out of control as it always felt. He looked at Marinette, who was now heading to her friends. She always seemed so competent, and in charge of her life. She was small, but so solid, like a tornado could come at her, but fail to knock her down. He knew he couldn’t change himself to be like her, but maybe, if she got to know him, she’d be willing to be his friend, and then her courage would rub off on him.

Adrien could practically feel Plagg salivating as he entered the Dupain Bakery. Or maybe that was just him. The bakery was small and simple. The floor was white, the walls were checkered with powder blue, and the doors were a light brown wood. There were a few tables and seats to the left in front of some large windows. It gave an excellent view of the pile of garbage Paris was slowly becoming. Most important of all, the bakery smelled devine. He wasn’t even hungry, but Adrien wanted to eat everything in the display case, and maybe more. The ambiance of the store was so warm, Adrien wished he could come here after a Makara attack instead of going to his own cold, empty home and taking a scalding shower.

“Hello,” a woman greeted from behind the cash register. She was about the same height as Marinette, but carried a little more weight on her, and her hair was shorter. Also, she smiled, and Marinette hadn’t smiled since he’d known her. “How can I help you?” she asked.

“Hi!” He greeted. “My name is Adrien.” The woman nodded politely. She had no idea who he was. “I’m here to meet up with Marinette and Ivan?”

“Oh!” The woman’s eyes widened, and she looked him over. She pursed her lips and gave him a sympathetic glance. “Don’t let anything she says get to you,” she patted his arm, leading him to the back of the store. “She just says the first thing on her mind, even if it’s not very kind.”

Adrien chuckled. “You don’t have to tell me that,”

“Oh, dear,” the woman said. “I thought she was trying to be nice to you?”

“I am being nice to him,” Marinette groused from her seat. Ivan sat next to her. When he saw Adrien walking towards him, his head snapped to Marinette. Now the poor guy was looking terribly confused, and Adrien would bet Marinette didn’t even begin to explain why they wanted to talk to him.

“She is,” Adrien assured. “Thanks for worrying about me.”

“He’s so nice,” the woman turned to her daughter and glared at her. Well. At least now Adrien knew where she got that fearsome expression from. “Be nice.”

“I am nice.”

“You’re...not?” Ivan ventured to say.

“Shut up,” Marinette snapped at him. “I’m plenty nice, you just don’t know it yet. Why do you think you’re here? And why do you think he’s here?” She gestured towards Adrien. He waved at Ivan and sat down between the two of them. Marinette’s mother looked at the three of them, opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it. She turned and went back to the cashier.

“I have absolutely no idea,” Ivan said when Marinette’s mom was out of eyesight.

“We noticed you like Mylene,” Adrien cut straight to the point. Marinette nodded. Ivan’s face went white, and his fingers clenched the table, knuckles white.

“And I think you think she likes Adrien,” Marinette added.

“How...how did you find out?”

“Well, Marinette told me,” Adrien admitted.

“Women’s intuition,” Marinette said. Adrien burst out laughing. She glared at him until he quieted down. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter how we found out--we’re going to help you, and you’re going to be happy about it. See? I’m nice.”

“Why?” Ivan looked like he wanted to say a lot more, but for whatever reason, he didn’t.

“We were friends,” Marinette said. “Remember? Friends help each other.”

“But, we haven’t talked in a long time. Why would you--”

“Does it matter?” Marinette snapped. “You were a good friend, and it’s not like I hate you now or anything. I just want you to be happy, and I can help, is that a crime?”

Adrien stared at her. If this was anyone else, he would have thought she had some ulterior motive to helping Ivan with his romance. But this was Marinette, who always lectured about the merits of the truth, and fought for justice, even when it made her a villain to the class. He believed her. She just wanted her old friend to be happy. She was rough with the explanation, but her heart was in the right place.

“I just want the class to like me,” Adrien offered, trying to give Ivan that selfish angle that would make more sense than Marinette’s altruistic explanation. “I thought if I helped you, the rest of the class wouldn’t avoid me anymore.”

Ivan nodded. “Alright. So...do you guys have any ideas?”

“Well,” Adrien said, suddenly self-conscious. “We kind of do. You might not like it, though.”

“We’re going to get Adrien to ask Mylene out.” Marinette was many things, but not one to mince words. “If she likes him, we’ll make the date go horribly, and after she gets over him, we can get her to see what a good guy you are. If she says no, we’ll help you like, woo her, or whatever.”

Ivan definitely did not like this idea. “This sounds dumb.”

“It’s better than doing nothing,” Marinette pointed out.

“I wasn’t doing nothing,” Ivan played with a piece of paper in his hands. “I had...I wrote a song for her.”

“Oh,” Marinette’s face froze. “That’s...uh…”

“Can we read it?” Adrien jumped in. He didn’t want to shoot Ivan’s idea down without first reading the words, at least. Ivan hesitantly handed the paper over to the two of them. He twiddled his fingers.

“I’ve been working on it for a while. Do you think it’s ok?”

Marinette unfolded the paper, and Adrien leaned over to read it with her. She read the words out loud in the most monotonous voice he’d heard in his life:

“Mylene, be serene.
Mylene, be serene.
Mylene, be serene.
Mylene, be mine.”

“Well, it’s a start,” Adrien smiled kindly at him.

“Why ‘serene?’” Marinette questioned, not taking her eyes off the paper. “And why so many times?” She mumbled to herself.

“She’s always so tense,” Ivan looked down at his hands. “I just wanted her to calm down, and let her know she could be like that with me.”

“Maybe we could add more words?” Adrien said. “I think she’ll get the idea after the first time you say ‘serene.’ Maybe there’s something which rhymes with that?”

“Clean?” Ivan offered. Adrien looked at Marinette. She pursed her lips.

“Maybe,” she said lightly, handing Ivan the paper back.

“Let’s talk about how you talk to her,” Adrien suggested, noting the tense and uncomfortable atmosphere which was developing. “Oh, I have an idea! What if you bow to her when you see her, and call her your lady?”

“What?” Ivan was confused.

“Allow me to demonstrate,” Adrien took Marinette’s hand. She snatched it away. He rolled his eyes. “Allow me to demonstrate,” he emphasized. She sighed and gave him her hand. He bowed over it and said, “Good morning, M'lady. How are you today?”

“That is so lame,” Marinette snorted while Ivan nodded in pitying agreement.

“Well, at least I’m throwing out ideas,” Adrien sat back in his seat and crossed his arms.

“Queen rhymes with ‘serene,’” Marinette said. “If you want to go the old-timey route, and if you’re sure you want to continue with the...song.”

“That could work.” Ivan nodded. “I’ll try and write more for my song tonight. Could I show you guys tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Marinette agreed.

“Or, you could just sing it to Mylene without us proofreading it,” Adrien suggested. “I’ll ask her out in the morning. I’m positive she’ll turn me down. Then, you swoop in and make your big gesture. Next thing you know, you’ll be dating the girl of your dreams.”

Ivan looked unsure, and Marinette was looking at him like an idiot. Marinette’s mom chose that moment to check on them, tray in hand. She left a few moments later leaving them with a pile of croissants and donuts. Adrien’s nutritionist would have a stroke if she saw him eating this. He dug in, grabbing the croissant on top. It was delicious--light and flakey and buttery and just so good.

Ivan and Marinette continued talking, now reminiscing about some old memories or something. Adrien couldn’t find it in him to pay much attention to their talk when there were so many delicious croissants to be eaten.

His phone rang, and Adrien froze in the middle of reaching for the last croissant.

“Go ahead,” Marinette said. That was impressive. He hadn’t known she’d even remembered he was still there. “You can eat as many as you like.”

“I wish,” he looked longingly at the baked treat. “My ride’s outside. I have to go home.”

Marinette and Ivan looked outside. It was still bright out.

“Do you have a curfew?” Ivan asked. “At 3 pm?”

“I wish,” Adrien sighed, standing up. “I have fencing practice, and I need to go home to get ready for that.”

Ivan said good-bye, and Marinette nodded. That was progress. She didn’t glare at him. In fact, she even handed him the last croissant.

“No one could eat it now,” she explained as he looked at her like she was a goddess. “You looked so sad when you thought you couldn’t eat it, everyone else would feel too guilty to even pick it up.”

In the end, Adrien gave the croissant to Gorilla, who requested they stop by the bakery more often. Adrien gladly agreed.

Marinette paused before she left the bakery the next day. It wasn’t uncommon to have early customers. In fact, a lot of people came by to get a baked breakfast before heading off to work or school. It was weird, though, to see Adrien Agreste chatting with her mom and buying a bag of pastries. He passed the bag to a tall man in a suit next to him. The muscular man dug through the bag and picked out an oatmeal cookie.

“Marinette,” Adrien looked at her nervously. He glanced at Sabine. “Do you want to ride to school with me?”

Her dad popped out of the kitchen, delighted. “Of course she would! Right, Marinette?”

Not even the devil could deny Tom Dupain when he looked so hopeful.

“Sure,” she mumbled, following the blonde out the door. She sat in the pedicab. She settled in the cushion on the seat. Adrien sat next to her, decidedly more stiff than her. She took a big swig of coffee and raised her eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure what to do,” he admitted. She wasn’t sure what he was talking about. “About Mylene,” he specified. “I’m asking her out today, remember?”

“Yeah, so?”

“I’ve never asked anyone out before,” he admitted, then tensed. It was like he was expecting her to punch him, or make fun of him. That just went to show how little he knew her, Marinette thought. She didn’t make fun of people, especially when it came to their experience or lack thereof in romantic relationships. That was totally their business, and she had no right to judge that.

“You don’t like her,” she reminded him. “And we’re hoping she rejects you. Why do you care about this?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “It’s just nerve-wracking. Like, what if she laughs at me after she turns me down? I want to make friends, not become the class joke.”

“You won’t,” she assured him. “I won’t let that happen.” She looked at the scenery, surprised to see they were almost at school already. “Oh, woah.”

“What?”

“I just wasn’t expecting us to have gotten this far already. I usually walk, so it takes like twenty minutes to get to school.”

“Why not take a pedicab? It’s getting colder in the mornings, and it would be more convenient.”

Be patient, be patient, she reminded herself. She took a sip of coffee. He was rich, he didn’t get it. It was up to her to make him see.

“My family isn’t rich like yours,” she said. “We have to save all the money we can, and we can’t splurge on a pedicab, or on a taxi every morning just because it would be more convenient. We have other things to prioritize.”

“Oh,” Adrien looked at her. He cautiously questioned: “Umm, is that why you didn’t file a complaint against Agreste Industries for not crediting your work?”

She felt her temper rising. “I’m trying to be nice,” she grit out. “Why are you trying to make me mad?”

“I’m not trying to,” he promised. “I’m just curious. You fight everything, and you’re never quiet about things which bother you. Why would you keep quiet about this, and why are you so mad about the design from the park?”

“Because it was mine!” She cried. How could he not understand? And why did he need to know? “That was my design, and I wanted to make it before anyone else could steal it. I’ve been entering Agreste competitions for years, and I know they steal the designs and don’t credit them, and yeah, it sucks, but I enter those designs knowing no one will know I made them. The design from the park was going to stay mine, and I wasn’t going to enter it in any competition. I liked it, and I wanted to keep it!”

“But why wouldn’t you fight for your designs?” Adrien pressed, leaning closer as they rolled up to the school. “You fight for everything else.”

“No,” Marinette said, voice hard. “I fight for what I believe in. When I enter those designs, I’m giving it up for the money I’ll earn for my family. I know what I’m getting into, so I can’t complain. The park? That was just an invasion of privacy. Someone looked over my shoulder--you looked over my shoulder--and stole my design. And we got no money for it.” Marinette turned her head to the side and laughed derisively. “Of course you wouldn’t have understood why I’m so upset. You’ve never had to worry about money, have you?”

She left the pedicab, not looking back. She knew the answer. There was no way Adrien Agreste, son of Gabriel Agreste, had ever had to worry about having enough money for the mortgage, or utilities that month. He’d never had to work for weeks on a design, making sure it was perfect, and then signing it away to a large corporation for no credit and a couple hundred euros. He’d never had to make choices like that, and it showed. He was so naive. Marinette knew it wasn’t his fault he was born into that life, and she shouldn’t blame him for not understanding. But it was his fault he stole her designs. It was his fault he didn’t acknowledge it. It was his fault he hadn’t apologized.

She stomped into the classroom and Mrs. Bustier fled. Marinette snorted and made her way to the desk she shared with Alya.

“Woah, girl,” Alya exchanged glances with Nino. “Take another sip of coffee. You look like you could bite my head off.”

“People need to stop saying that,” she spat. “It’s not funny.”

“Come on, Palm Face,” Nino grinned at her. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to tell you,” she said.

“It’s Adrien?” Alya guessed.

“I’m trying to be patient, I swear. He’s just so...aggravating!”

“You’re no walk in the park yourself, Marinette,” Nino frowned. “What could he possibly have done this morning to get you so worked up?”

“Well, he came by and bought some stuff from the bakery. Then we rode to school together on his pedicab and we talked about--ok that’s a long story and I’ll tell you guys later. Basically, he was asking why I was so pissed about the stolen design from the park, and not the ones from earlier. It just--”

“You know, I’m still not convinced he was the one who stole your designs,” Alya cut in. “Why would he have stolen your earlier designs? I thought he was just a model, not a part of the actual business?”

“So maybe he didn’t steal the designs I submitted for the contests. He was the only one there at the park. He was the only one who could have stolen that design!”

“Did you say thanks?” Nino asked as Adrien walked into the room. “Because you know, he let you ride his pedicab this morning?”

Marinette opened her mouth to speak, then closed it with an audible click. She stood up and marched to his desk. Chloe glared up at her, fists clenched and ready for a fight. Marinette ignored her. She couldn’t be like her--someone who only saw the bad in people and ignored all the good things they did. She couldn’t be one of those people who didn’t thank others for the good they did, even if they also did horrible things.

“Thank you,” she said haltingly. Adrien looked surprised. “For letting me ride in your pedicab this morning. I’m sorry I got mad at you. You were just curious," She sniffed and looked down her nose at him. "I hope you gather your courage soon and apologize to me, too.”

She turned on her heel and plopped down next to Alya again. She sipped more coffee. Ah, sweet coffee. Her only reliable friend. Coffee never bothered her, or questioned her, or made her do things she didn’t want to. She closed her eyes and took another sip. It was so good.

“Aww, I’m proud of you, Palm Face,”

“Shut up,” Marinette hissed. She glared across the room at Adrien. He blinked at her. She looked pointedly at Mylene, and he looked nervous. He looked at her and shook his head. She rolled her eyes. Good God. Fine, she’d talk to him during lunch.

Class went by relatively quickly. She fell asleep for most of it, which probably helped. She woke up in time for Mrs. Mendeleiv to talk about the scientific discoveries about the slime Mylene’s Akuma had created, and how the puddles were helping get rid of large amounts of landfill waste.

The lunch bell rang. Mrs. Mendeleiv was one of those teachers who insisted the bell didn’t dismiss them, and that the class should wait until she let them out. Marinette ignored her and left anyway. What could that bitchy old bat do to her, anyway? Detentions were banned due to the unpredictable nature of Makara and Akumas, and her parents were too busy to stand a parent-teacher conference. At most, Mrs. Mendeleiv could give her a bad grade, and it wasn’t like Marinette particularly cared about her science class.

She waited outside the cafeteria for Ivan and Adrien to show up.

“You shouldn’t have left,” Ivan said. “Mrs. Mendeleiv looked like she was going to explode.”

Marinette shrugged indifferently. “Where’s Adrien?”

“I, uh, pointed him in Mylene’s direction, and he’s, uh, asking her out, now.”

Marinette put a comforting hand on Ivan’s arm. “It’ll be ok. Why on earth would she say yes to him?”

“Guys,” Adrien rushed over to them, looking ruffled and confused. “We’ve got a bit of a problem. She said yes.”

“What?” Marinette cried. “This is impossible! She likes Ivan!”

“I knew it,” Ivan mumbled to himself. “Thanks for trying, I guess. Adrien, don’t hurt her. She doesn’t deserve that.”

“You’re going to give up?” Adrien asked, astonished.

“No, he’s not going to give up,” Marinette snapped. “Remember the original plan? If she said yes, you’ll just take her on a really obnoxious date. It won’t be hard, I bet.”

“It might,” Adrien’s face was an interesting shade of red. “I’ve never been on a date before. How am I supposed to know the difference between a good date and a bad one?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Fine. Here’s what we’ll do. After school, we’ll go on a fake date. Ivan, you come, too. We’ll plan out the worst date possible, and then we’ll figure out when and how Ivan can swoop in and, I don’t know…”

“Woo her?” Ivan provided helpfully. Marinette nodded.

“Yeah, that.”

“Hey, how’s your song coming?” Adrien asked. Marinette could not be here for this. Flashbacks of her time with Luka were seriously stressing her out, and she refused to hear about Ivan’s lyrics. She said she was hungry and left the two to talk about Ivan’s song.

“So, what exactly does Mylene hate?” Marinette asked Ivan. Adrien looked to him as well. He was the only one who knew Mylene very well, so whatever he said was going to determine his date with Mylene the next day.

“Um, horror movies?”

“Oh, awesome, I love horror movies,” Marinette smiled as she pulled her phone out. “Let’s check if there’s any new horror movies out in the theaters.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a bad date?” Adrien questioned as the three of them walked through the streets of Paris. Marinette had made them leave the bakery after her dad had started crying. The man had talked to him for about two minutes, then started blubbering about his daughter, and how she was a lot kinder than she seemed. Marinette’s face had turned an interesting shade of red, and she’d practically shoved him and Ivan out the doors of the bakery. She was surprisingly strong for such a small girl.

“For Mylene, yeah,” Marinette said. “But I’m carving out an afternoon for this. I refuse to be bored or annoyed the entire time.”

“I think The Watchers came out a few days ago,” Adrien said, now understanding the purpose of today. “Do you actually want to watch it?” He really hoped she said no.

“Yeah. That way, you’ll already have seen it when you go tomorrow. Try to be on your phone a lot, that would be annoying and rude. Oh, and leave to go to the bathroom a lot. Leave her alone as often as possible.”

“But she’ll be scared,” Ivan looked uneasy. “She gets scared easily.”

Oh, Adrien knew that. She’d screamed when he said her name in the hallway at school earlier, and cried when he asked her on the date. It was uncomfortable, and Adrien couldn’t wait for tomorrow to be over.

“Yeah, but we want her to have a bad time, remember?” Marinette reminded him. “Besides, it’s just a movie. She’ll be fine.” Ivan’s teeth clicked in his mouth, and Adrien wondered what was on the beefy boy’s mind. Why didn’t he ever say anything?

“Come on,” Adrien led them to the movie theater. “My treat.”

“Music to my ears,” Marinette sighed. “Buy snacks, too. I want nachos.”

“Sure. Ivan, popcorn?”

They all walked into the theater and Adrien watched his first movie in a theater with kids his age. It was amazing. The movie itself was horrible. He'd always hated horror movies. They tended to give him nightmares. This one wasn't very scary, thankfully, it was more of a thriller than anything. Honestly, it wasn't his kind of movie, and he was pretty bored throughout it, but the knowledge that he was sitting with kids from his class made it amazing. Adrien had never been a fan of horror films, but he found he appreciated them a lot more with Marinette snorting and laughing next to him. She didn’t seem to be scared by a single thing in the movie, and Adrien soon found himself laughing alongside her. The people below them turned in their seats to scowl at them and shush them. Ivan moved a few seats away to keep from being associated with the two of them.

After the movie, Marinette filled him in on her opinion, and why the director’s first movie was much better. Adrien hadn’t seen the first movie, and he wondered if, after he told her what he’d found out about her stolen designs, she’d want to watch it with him. If he was with her, he'd actually want to watch it, even if Marinette said it was scarier than the one they'd just seen.

“Is this the whole date?” Adrien asked.

“It would be a pretty awful date,” Marinette noted.

“Mylene’s thoughtful,” Ivan argued. “If it was cut short now, she’d just think you were having a bad day and want to go on another date with you.”

“Alright, let’s go rollerskating,” Marinette decided. Ivan looked at her like she was crazy. He opened his mouth to say something, but then something cleared in his expression, and he nodded along with the plan. Adrien didn’t bother questioning it. If Ivan agreed, it was probably a good idea. The three of them started walking to the roller skating rink, but Adrien got tired. He hailed a pedicab. He paid again, obviously.

“Oh, split the bill when you’re on the date!” Marinette piped up as they entered the rink. “On the real date. Not this one. It’s fine if you pay for us on this date.”

They got fitted in skates and shakily entered the smooth wooden rink. Ivan moved forward in small increments, barely moving a few centimeters at a time. Marinette tried to take a big stride and ended up on her back. Adrien tried to reach down and help her up, but the skates messed with his balance, and he accidentally fell on top of her.

“Sorry, sorry!” He pushed himself up, and Marinette shakily stood up on her own.

“No problem.” her arms stuck out like airplane wings and she tried moving forward with a big push again. Her arms started waving in the air, and Adrien could see her about to fall back. He rushed forward and pushed her back, keeping her upright.

“Oomf!” she said, surprised. She looked back, conflicted. “Thanks.”

Ivan finally caught up with them, and the three of them shakily made their way to the actual ring.

“This is not fun.” Ivan said. Another amateur skater ran into him, and he was knocked to the ground. Adrien and Marinette didn’t dare stop skating--they had a relatively smooth pace now, and they didn’t want to ruin it. “This is not fun!” Ivan said louder, making sure they could hear him.

Marinette and Adrien slowly made their way around the rink, hand in hand. It wasn’t romantic, or anything. They just found that it was easier to stay steady when they held onto each other. They eventually made their way back to Ivan, who had just barely managed to stand up. He put his arm around Adrien’s shoulder, and the three of them took the rink by storm. People had to get out of their way, or they would be bulldozed. The supervisors of the rink told them a few times to break it up, but between Marinette’s glare, Ivan’s intimidating presence, and Adrien’s polite smile, they soon gave up.

Ivan kept falling, and pulling Adrien down with him. He was starting to get sweaty, and people kept bumping into Marinette, sending her into a hurricane of curse words. It was the most fun Adrien had had in years. He didn’t even try to keep the smile off his face.

Ivan was, once again, knocked over. Adrien let go of his arm and moved away before Ivan could pull him down again. He fell with a loud thud. After an hour of patience, the gentle giant’s patience ran out. He swung on the man who had crashed into him and explained, in careful words, how many other paths he could’ve taken, which wouldn’t have ended up with Ivan on the floor.

A noise came out of Marinette at his side, and Adrien looked down at her. He blinked. She was smiling--no, not just smiling. She was laughing. The happiest he’d ever seen her was when she’d scoffed at the movie earlier. He thought she looked good when she wasn’t scowling. But when she was smiling? She was beautiful.

His heart thudded hard enough for him to notice. That was weird. He rubbed his chest.

“Are you ok?” Marinette looked up at him. Her eyes, for once, weren’t full of disdain and malice. She was worried. He swallowed.

“I don’t know.” He said honestly. “My chest hurts. Maybe I’m tired?”

“Let’s get Ivan and go,” she said. “We can’t go back, so we have to go around one more time.” Adrien nodded and skated along with her. For whatever reason, the idea of leaving and going home did not make him feel better. Ivan, on the other hand, was ecstatic that they would be leaving.

“Mylene is going to have an awful time tomorrow,” Ivan confirmed as they all climbed into Adrien’s pedicab. “I think I’ll ask her out at lunch the day after, so she’s not overwhelmed.”

“Good idea,” Marinette nodded. She hesitated. “Are you...still singing the song?”

The rest of the ride was spent strategizing how Ivan would confess to Mylene, and how he would ask her out. A good portion was dedicated to improving his song. Adrien hoped Mylene would go out with Ivan. He was a good guy, if quiet. And, he really liked her. Adrien would do everything in his power to get Mylene to stop liking him on their date tomorrow. Gorilla stopped in front of Ivan’s house first. It was the closest. Then the pedicab was silent. Adrien gathered his nerve. It was time to tell Marinette the truth about who had stolen her designs. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous--she would be happy, he was sure. He was just acting stupid.

“Marinette, I need to tell you something.” He looked at her, hoping she was paying attention. She shifted in her seat and looked at him expectantly. “I didn’t steal your design that day in the park.” He saw her opening her mouth, but he put his hand on her arm. “Wait, let me finish. Please?” For a second, he wasn’t sure she would listen to him. If she didn’t want to listen to him, he was sure she would jump out of the pedicab and walk home, no matter how far away they were.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll listen.”

“So, I’ve been doing a little digging into my father’s company,” Adrien rushed to say everything, in case she decided to change her mind and stopped listening to him. “You see, Nino told me about all your designs appearing in the Agreste magazine, but none of them being credited. So, I looked into that, first. Well, I wouldn’t say I looked into that first, but that was the first lead I had which gave me results.

“Anyway, after a few days of looking through everything, I found the girl who’s been stealing your designs. Her name is Simone Barchechat. She used to be a really promising designer, but her last two collections have been flops and she was going to be fired if she didn’t perform better. So, she stole your work. I’m still not sure how she did that without anyone finding out, but she’s been fired, and I’ve got some people looking into the company and weeding out anyone who might’ve been involved in this.

“I still don't know who stole your design at the park, but I’m working on it. I wasn’t the only one there at the photo shoot, and I’m sure anyone there could’ve had some sort of motive to steal your work.” Adrien took a deep breath and looked at Marinette’s face. She looked shocked, like she wasn’t sure how to respond. Adrien licked his lips and swallowed. Why was he so nervous to talk to her? He’d seen her when she was much more aggressive, and he hadn’t been half this nervous.

“I’m sorry my father’s company put you through so much,” he said. Then he dug through his pockets. “I, uh, I’m sure this isn’t enough to compensate you for the violation of privacy, but it's two hundred euros from the company.”

Marinette took the money, looking like she wasn’t sure what was happening. Gorilla slowed the pedicab, and a moment later, they were stopped in front of Marinette’s house. She looked at the bakery, then down at the money in her hands.

“Well, shit,” she said. Her lips pursed, and she looked into Adrien’s eyes. “I should be asking you for proof,” she said. “I shouldn’t believe what you just said.” Adrien’s heart was dropping. Oh, yeah. He hadn’t thought of bringing along proof. “But for some reason, I believe you. You really didn’t steal my design?”

“No.”

“You should’ve said so earlier, idiot,” she shook her head and got out of the pedicab. She walked to the door. Gorilla didn’t start pedaling. He wanted to see her inside before he left. She turned back to him. “Good luck on your date tomorrow.” Then, she entered the bakery.

Adrien released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Gorilla started pedaling. He was a bit disappointed. He felt underwhelmed, almost. What had he expected? Anything but the small, subdued reaction he’d gotten.

Marinette was outgoing, loud, not afraid to let people know exactly what she was thinking. That Marinette back there? The one who’d reacted, but not really said anything? Adrien wasn’t sure what to do with her. That wasn’t the girl he looked forward to listen to as she talked about whatever had captured her attention. That wasn’t the girl he loved to watch as she tore down the next perpetrator of evil in her path. That wasn’t the girl he’d come to admire so intensely. That wasn’t the girl he’d fallen for. Adrien's heart felt like it paused. Oh, shit.

“Gorilla,” Adrien said, rubbing his chest. “I like that girl.”

Gorilla looked back at him. “Do you want a response to that?”

“No,” Adrien sat back and rubbed his eyes. “I guess I just needed to tell someone. I just found out today, you know.”

“Well, alright. We’ll be back in fifteen minutes, so try to be finished processing by the time we get back.”

Marinette felt horrible the next morning. She didn't tend to sleep a lot regularly, but last night had been horrible. She'd tossed and turned, remembering every single thing she'd said to Adrien when she thought he was a horrible, lying bastard. In the end, Nino had been right the whole time. Adrien was a good guy. She’d been horrible to him, and he’d still gone through the trouble to dig through his dad’s company and fire the designer who’d stolen her designs. He’d, foolishly, endured all her harsh words, and hadn’t lashed out at her once. He’d continued his investigation and told her the truth, not mocking her or getting angry at her once. She wished he’d yelled. She deserved it.

She entered the classroom and paused at the doorway. Adrien was already at his seat. He was talking to Chloe, facing away from the class. No one else paid attention to him. No one even looked his way. She wondered if anyone even looked his way when he entered the room in the mornings, like how her friends sought her out when she got to school. She drew her shoulders back and walked to Adrien’s desk. Everyone’s conversations quieted, and they watched her. She knew that would happen. Usually, she only came to this desk because she had some bone to pick with Chloe. Not this time.

“I thought you were a selfish jerk, and I’ve made that very clear the entire time I’ve felt like that,” Marinette stared cooly at Adrien. “You didn’t say anything to defend yourself, and I don’t get that at all--it seems stupid and it makes me feel like an asshole now, because I need to apologize. You’re a good guy, and I’m sorry for everything I said.”

The class gasped quietly. Marinette wasn’t known to apologize. Chloe’s jaw dropped. Adrien was staring at her, his jaw propped on his fist. He was studying her with a slight smile on his lips.

“Well?” She demanded after an uncomfortable moment of silence. “Are you going to respond at all?” He was silent. Fists clenched at her sides, she snapped: “Did you even hear a word I said?”

“No,” he admitted. “But you sure are gorgeous.”

This must be it. This was his revenge for how terribly she’d treated him. “I deserve this. I deserve this, I can’t get mad,” she mumbled to herself, stomping back to her seat.

“If that’s all it takes to get her to leave, I should’ve said that years ago!” Chloe’s voice wasn’t usually this irritating, Marinette was sure. She somehow managed to sit angrily in her seat, and chugged her coffee. So sweet, so warm, so soothing. Nino covered her eyes with his hand.

“I’m proud of you, Palm Face.” He said.

“I didn’t do it for you,” she snapped. “I said it because he's a good guy, and he deserves a public apology.”

“Aww, Marinette," Alya poked Marinette's cheek. "That was surprisingly sweet of you!”  Marinette slapped her hand away, wanting to go home already.

The following afternoon, Adrien was trying his best to convince Ivan to just go for it. Mylene would say yes, he was sure of it. Throughout the date yesterday, all Mylene had talked about was Ivan. Ivan this, Ivan that, Ivan said this, Ivan did that. It was sweet for the first twenty minutes, and then it just got annoying. Still, Adrien had an image to uphold for Agreste Industries. He’d smiled for the entire date, no matter how much he wished the girl next to him was a little shorter, a little more fierce, and had blue eyes instead of brown.

“She agreed to go on a date with you,” Ivan pointed out, folding and unfolding the paper in his hands.

“It was a pity date, believe me,” Adrien internally winced. He’d now officially been on two dates: one of them had been a fake date with Marinette and Ivan, and the other had been a pity date with a girl he didn’t even like. Now that was just pathetic.

“Where are we going, Marinette?” Mylene’s voice was getting louder as Marinette led her around the corner, to the back of the school.

“I told you, it’s a surprise. You’ll like it. I guarantee it.”

Adrien gave Ivan one last reassuring pat on the back and he disappeared behind some bushes. Marinette told Mylene that Ivan had something to tell her, and soon she joined him in the bushes. His heart thudded for a second, but Adrien forced himself to ignore it. He had other things to focus on. He strained to listen to the conversation between Ivan and Mylene.

“Ivan?” Mylene questioned. “What the heck are we doing back here? If you had something to tell me, why not just tell me at lunch?”

“Uh, I, uh,” Ivan didn’t stop stuttering for another thirty seconds. Marinette threw a rock at his back. Adrien gaped at her, but it seemed to do the trick. Ivan cleared his throat. “I wrote a song for you. I didn’t want anyone else to hear. Do you mind listening to it?”

“You wrote it...for me, or just…?” Mylene sounded so confused. Adrien wished he could poke his head up and see the whole scene. This seemed like something which would happen in one of the teen rom-coms he loved watching. Ivan didn’t bother answering her and just started his song:

“Mylene, be serene!
Mylene, be supreme!
Mylene, you’re my queen!
Would you go on a date with me?”

Marinette's face grew pained as she listened to Ivan's song. Adrien made a mental note: no heartfelt serenades for her.

“Oh my gosh!” Adrien could recognize that wobbly tone of voice. He’d heard it multiple times yesterday. Mylene was crying. “You wrote a song for me! That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me!”

“They’re hugging,” Marinette whispered to him, peeking above the bushes. “She hasn’t answered his damn question!” He could feel the frustration in her voice. A burst of affection bloomed in his chest. She was so impatient, it was adorable.

“Don’t throw another rock,” Adrien cautioned. “You might frighten her away. Like a rabbit.”

“So, will you?” Ivan asked.

“He’s blushing,” Marinette reported. Adrien hated his blonde hair at the moment. If it had been darker, he could look without drawing attention to himself.

“Of course!” Mylene was fully crying now. Adrien could imagine her tear-soaked face so well, it was embarrassing. He would never tell anyone that his first real date had spent more time crying than talking. To be fair, that was mostly because of the horror movie, but it was also in part because of how frustrated she got while roller skating. Overall, it had been a horrible experience, for the both of them.

“They walked to the front of the school,” Marinette stood up. She looked at him and grinned. “I got a video of it. Give me your number and I’ll send it to you.”

She was perfect, an actual goddess. 

Chapter Text

The Makara started dissolving in front of them, and Ladybug threw the metal bat in her hands to the side. The police would get that later. They strode to the captured Akuma and purified him. He was out cold, so it was impossible to question him about anything.

Ladybug turned to him, and Adrien braced himself for the word vomit which would spew from her mouth. She was just as cool and competent as ever during the battles, but when everything was said and done and she was just talking to him? It was a completely different story. He couldn’t recall if she’d ever spoken to him normally.

“I, uh,” she started, “Can’t do this.”

Adrien blinked. Whatever he’d thought she’d say, that was absolutely not it.

“I have tests and I'm tired and this is hard--this is so hard. I just would need--would like--a break. Just three days. Until the end of the week. I doubt there’ll be much, but in case you need me, don’t need me. Please?” She looked at him, like she was ashamed for asking for time for herself.

“Don’t worry about it,” Adrien ruffled her hair. “I doubt there’s going to be an Akuma in the next few days, so rest. It’ll be fine.”

Ladybug looked like she was going to pass out, but she nodded her head gratefully.

“Are you ok? You look really tired.”

“I am, but I’ll be alright.” Ladybug smiled at him. It reminded Adrien of another girl. Another shortie, but the one he had in mind was confident as hell and filled to the brim with harsh words and a feisty attitude. “Thanks, you’re gorgeous.” Ladybug looked like she was going to combust. “Inside. You have beautiful insides. Great personality. You know. You’re great. I’m going to leave now. I’m tired.”

She swung away. Adrien shook his head and went his own way home. It was shocking how quickly she could change from being so calm, collected, and in charge, to turning into a stuttering mess.

He landed, de-transformed, and entered his house. It was empty as always. His bodyguard noted his arrival and narrowed his eyes at him. Adrien shrugged apologetically before continuing to his room. No one stopped him or tried to talk to him on his way to his room. Plagg strut around the room, his tail high in the air. Adrien sat at his desk and turned on his laptop. Plagg jumped onto his lap, and Adrien scratched him under the chin. The kwami purred loudly, and it made Adrien smile.

He pulled up the Ladyblog and checked the latest comment threads. It was pretty much the same as always. Oh, Ladybug was so cool. Cat Noir looked cute with the cat ears and bell. The Makara was scary. Not much useful information. Adrien kept scouring, looking. A few days ago, Ladybug told him that Ivan remembered hearing a man’s voice before he was Akumatized. Since then, Adrien had been trying to figure out ways to find out who the man was, or at least get a name.

Plagg settled further in his lap, but his eyes were open and on the computer screen, as well.

“Does this help at all?” he wondered. “It seems like a waste of time. It’s just a blog run by some high schooler”

“Well, what else can I do?” Adrien rubbed the kwami’s head, hoping to keep him quiet. Plagg kept trying to talk.

“I don’t know. You could do some actual detective work. You’re Cat Noir, you don’t have to wait for a Makara to transform, you know." It was hard to understand him through the uncontrollable purring. "Stop that! I can’t hear myself think.” Plagg jumped off Adrien’s legs. Adrien let him be and turned back to the computer. Alya just updated some new pictures of the after-attack damage. Maybe he could ask her for images related to the Akuma.

“The way I see it, you’re getting nowhere on your own.” Plagg started walking around the room. “And since you asked me for my advise, of course I'll tell you all the options you have."

"I didn't ask for your advise."

"You could either get help from the police, or from any random Parisian on the street.”

“Well I won’t ask for help from the police,” Adrien snorted. “I think Officer Ciel’s still holding a grudge because of that time I accidentally knocked him out.”

“So you’re going to grab some random citizen and get them to help you investigate for the next three days?” Plagg couldn’t sound more unimpressed if he tried. Adrien kept scrolling through the Ladyblog.

“Sure. I’ll be there to keep him safe.”

“You could choose a girl.” Plagg pointed out. Adrien paused, his mouse hovering over an old picture of Ladybug posing in front of the hospital. Plagg was right. He could choose a girl. And if he wasn’t going to the police, did it matter which civilian helped him?

“Plagg,” Adrien turned to the kwami, “You’re a genius.”

Marinette mumbled to herself when she studied. It was an old habit from her childhood she’d never grown out of. As she read her history book, her voice buzzed around her bedroom. Tikki sat next to the book, nibbling away at some of the day’s unsold cookies and slices of bread. Tikki loved her history class, though Marinette had no clue why.

“Flip the page!” Tikki demanded, tapping on the book. Marinette shot her an irritated look and wiped stray crumbs off the page.

“I’m not done yet.”

“We both know that doesn’t matter,” Tikki reached for another treat. “As long as I read it, you’ll be fine.”

“I should at least try to study,” Marinette mumbled, turning back to the page. “I want to know most of the information myself.”

“Oh, that’s interesting,” Tikki stopped chewing on the chocolate chip cookie in her hands.

“I’m not a cheater, Tikki. Well, I try not to be, anyway.”

“We’ve got company!” Tikki flew through the air, leaving a trail of crumbs behind her. Marinette couldn’t believe her. She’d just vacuumed a few days ago, and now the room was a mess again. “Cat Noir is here!”

“What are you talking about?” Tikki didn’t say anything more and dove under the bed.

A knock sounded from Marinette’s skylight. She froze. There was no way. It couldn’t be. This had to be a dream? The knock came again, and a familiar voice reverberated through her room.

“Marinette?”

“I’m here!” she yelped, rushing to open her skylight window. Her movements slowed as she remembered her appearance. Her hair was a ratty mess around her head, and her wire-rim glasses sat on the end of her nose. She wore no concealer, and she had mismatching fuzzy socks on her feet. She wanted to run and get ready, but she couldn’t just leave him on her roof. What if he left? She opened the window, and he was there, in front of her. “Cat Noir.” She sounded breathless. She stepped back and waved him in.

Marinette had been practicing martial arts since she was seven, and helped her dad in the kitchen her whole life. She was a monster-fighting magical superhero. She was always aware of her body and was confident with her movements. In that moment, however, her arms felt like limp noodles, and she wasn’t sure what to do with any part of her. She wanted to hide her entire body with a magic cloak which would make her presentable. She looked down at her feet. One sock was green and purple. The other was white, and was almost three inches longer than the other. She just wouldn’t mention her appearance and hope he wouldn’t look at her funny.

Was she supposed to speak? Had he figured out she was Ladybug? Was he alright? How did he even know she lived here?

“Um,” she started, and kicked herself in her imaginary face. Real smooth, Marinette. “Are you ok?” She settled with asking a relatively harmless question. It was short enough that even she wouldn’t stumble over it. She waited for his response, feeling stupid as she stood in the center of her room. Her feet and palms grew damp, and she clasped her hands in front of her. Should she move back to her desk, or to her bed? Should she offer him somewhere to sit?

“I’m fine,” he said. He didn’t look twice at her mismatched socks, or her ratty running shorts, or even her old shirt with holes in it. Of course he didn’t. He was just that kind of person. “I didn’t mean to worry you.” It was nice hearing his voice without any threat of danger around them. His black hair tumbled around his head, only tamed by the new cat ears. The suit, incredibly lame and badly designed, somehow managed to look good on him. The faux leather stretched against him in a way that made her want to drape herself over him and kiss him until he asked her to be his girlfriend, or to at least go on a date. He was so tall, and his eyes were so kind, and he made her want to be gentle for him. God, she was pathetic. Just looking at him made her swoon.

Cat Noir didn’t say anything else and instead studied her room. It was pretty large, and was her favorite part of the house. The skylight let in a lot of natural light during the daytime, and the balcony helped her destress at night. The room itself was alright. The previous owner of the building painted it totally pink, and Marinette never bothered to repaint it. Instead, she covered the walls with images of her favorite designs from her magazines, or sketches of her own designs. The floor-space was cluttered with garments she was working on.

“Do you...is there any reason you’re--what are you doing?” Marinette stood, cemented to her spot in the room, as Cat Noir stood in front of a wall full of Agreste designs.

“Do you like Adrien Agreste?” There was a smile in his voice. It was like he was making fun of her, or teasing her or something.

“No!” He turned to her, startled at her abrupt tone.

“You don’t like him?”

“We’re friends, I think. He’s in my class. I don’t know him very well. Those pictures are for the designs.” Marinette patted herself on the back for getting through so many sentences around Cat Noir without stuttering or stumbling over her words.

“Oh,” Cat Noir’s ears dropped.

“So cute,” She whispered. One ear twitched toward her, and he looked at her. His eyes were so unique. The entire eye was colored a toxic hue of green. It made him look dangerous, which Marinette thought funny, considering how sweet he actually was. Marinette pointed at the top of her own head. “The ears. They’re cute...I guess.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cat Noir pursed his lips. “My...source of magic got mad at me and changed the suit.”

“You can change the design of the suit?” Marinette’s eyes lit up. Finally, a topic of conversation which would come easily to her. “Does...your source of magic take requests? It would be a lot better, I think, if you got rid of the bell, and it might be more practical if you kept your staff at the side of your thigh instead of on your back. Also, from what I can tell, the fanny pack or pocket belt thing is totally useless--get rid of it. And add padding. You get thrown into walls a lot, and padding might help with that.”

“I...thanks, Marinette,” Cat Noir smiled at her. Oh, he had dimples. He was gorgeous. “But I didn’t come here for fashion advice.”

“Why...How...You know my name?”

“It’s part of the reason I’m here,” Cat Noir sounded proud of himself. “I need your help.”

Marinette stopped breathing for a second. This was no longer a dream but a nightmare. She’d asked Cat Noir as Ladybug to give her three days off, and that hadn’t been because she was tired. Her family had received an order for a wedding, and her parents needed her help to finish all the small, intricate pastries. The wedding order would require almost all her time for the next couple of days. That, coupled with her regular schoolwork and the history test coming up, had Marinette completely swamped. She’d recognized she wouldn’t have time to be Ladybug for the next couple of days and had told Cat Noir in advance, in case something happened. Now he was here. Asking for her help.

His eyes were so trusting, so sure that Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a girl he didn’t know as Ladybug, was able to help him. She wanted him to like her as much as she liked him. Maybe showing that he could rely on her could push him to ask her out?

“My help?” Marinette wheezed. “How?”

“I’ve heard from some sources that you’re the girl to ask if I need help on the streets.”

“Oh,” Marinette blinked, suddenly feeling a little defensive. Liking a guy was one thing, but giving away her family secret was another. “Who told you that?”

“My magic source,” He tapped his ring. Really? Marinette furrowed her brow. She couldn’t really argue with that, or say his kwami was wrong. And she really didn’t want to disappoint him. Surely it wouldn’t be too bad if she introduced him to the gang? He already knew about it anyway, so what harm was she really doing, anyway?

“I guess if you’ve already heard,” Marinette hesitated in the center of the room. “Do you mind waiting while I get ready?”

“Get ready?” For the first time, he looked down at what she was wearing. “Oh, right. It’s late. Did I wake you?”

“Nah, I’m always awake at this time.” Marinette tried to sound casual by laughing, but she felt like a deranged lunatic. She trotted to her closet to pick out her athletic gear and brass knuckles. She closed the closet door, trapping herself inside the small alcove, and changed as quickly as she could.

“You’re...changing in the closet?”

“I, uh, didn’t want to leave you alone in my room. And it felt weird to throw you out on the balcony.” She opened the doors and stepped out, grabbing a pair of shoes. “I’m ready. Do you know where we’re going, or am I leading?”

“Uh, you’re leading,” Cat Noir tilted his head to the side and stared at her, like he was piecing together a complex puzzle in his head. “Come out to the balcony. I’ll get us to the ground.” His voice was distracted, and Marinette was sure he was thinking about something else. She didn’t particularly care at that moment. He was going to get them to the ground, which meant he would hold her in his arms. She was unreasonably happy about this.

“Hop onto my back,” he said, crouching down so she would have an easier time with it. It was sweet of him, though totally unnecessary. “Hold on tight.”

Oh, she definitely would. She wasn’t sure when she was going to have another chance to touch Cat Noir, and she was going to take this opportunity and roll with it. She wrapped her arms in front of him, across his chest, and squeezed herself against his back. She was gripping him tighter than strictly necessary, but he didn’t complain, and Marinette felt no guilt. The air ruffled her hair as he gently lowered them to the ground. A weight of disappointment settled in her stomach when he crouched, signalling her to get off of him.

She hit the ground with weak knees and stumbled. He reached to catch her. She didn’t need his help. She didn’t let him know that. Marinette grabbed onto his hand and stabilized herself, but let go as she looked at the position of the moon. It was really late, and she still had an early morning. She started walking, and Cat Noir matched her pace on her right.

“I’m really surprised you know about the gang,” Marinette admitted. She only had so much time with Cat Noir like this, when she was a civilian. She couldn’t mess this up--she wouldn’t allow herself to. She’d embarassed herself enough while she was Ladybug. Marinette wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she acted like that outside of the suit, too. “We’ve kept it such a good secret for so long, I’m not sure how my family will react to you figuring it out.”

“When you say gang,” Cat Noir said carefully. “What exactly do you...mean?”

“You don’t know anything about it?” Marinette looked at him excitedly. This was good. If the entire conversation centered on the history of the gang, she would be less likely to humiliate herself. “My family came to France from China three generations ago. My great-grandparents weren’t having much luck with work--there was a lot of racism and prejudice back then, and it was near impossible for immigrants to find work with fair pay. Basically, they were starving. Some guy came to my great-grandpa, offered him a ton of money if he completed a job, and swore him to secrecy. My great-grandparents were desperate, so he took the job. The guy who offered the job was part of the gang, and that was how my family got introduced to the lifestyle.

“My great-grandma got pregnant with my grandma, and my great-grandpa started to really fear for their lives. His French wasn’t very great, so he worried the other members were plotting against him. He was very paranoid--I think it was from his drug addiction,”

“Wait, drugs?”

“But I don’t know for certain. All I do know is that he somehow killed the head of the gang, and suddenly, he was the new head honcho.”

“He killed the gang leader?”

“He and my great-grandma had one kid: my grandma. She took over when he died, and she led the gang into its golden age. No one will tell me how, but she somehow made the Cheng Family gang a household name. The police were constantly after the members. They were really into violent crimes back then--murder, drug dealing, you name it.”

“Oh my God.”

“Then, my grandpa--he was already married to my grandma by this point--went to a drug information seminar or something. He was so moved by all the information he learned that he begged Grandma to stop dealing with drugs. She agreed.”

“This cannot be for real.”

“Next thing the Jiang Family knows, they’re now fighting drugs in the streets. A bunch of their members left and started their own drug rings, but we didn’t care about that. As long as they stayed off our streets, they could do whatever they wanted. Grandma was so fierce, the drug rates in our streets went down to nearly zero.

“After Grandma retired, my mom, her oldest child, took over.”

“Your mom ran the gang!?”

“She was good at it, and she had a lot of fun with it, from what I hear. But, after she fell in love with my dad, she realized he’d never be able to live with her life. So, she left her younger brothers in charge of the gang, and went off to run a bakery with my dad, and then they had me.”

“You’re a part of the gang?”

“Yeah, but I’m not very active. I don’t have the time anymore.”

“Oh,” he mumbled to himself. “Of course. You don’t have the time anymore.”

“You seem very surprised by all of this,” Marinette narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“Plagg--the source of my magic--wasn’t very specific when he said how you could be helpful. He just said you probably knew some people who could help, and I trust him. I didn’t know all...this.”

“Are you,” Marinette paused, looking at Cat Noir’s disturbed face. “Scared of me now?”

“Not of you,” he said immediately, and Marinette wished she could hug him. “But I’m terrified of where we’re going.”

“Well, no need to fear. We’re already here.”

Cat Noir looked around the crumbled building and carefully followed Marinette through the wreckage. She pulled the brass knuckles over her leather gloves and knocked the special pattern at the door. It swung open immediately. She stepped through, and Cat Noir nervously followed behind her.

The hideout was largely unchanged from how it looked when it had first been renovated and deemed safe for people. Everything around them outside was crumbled or powdered rocks. The room itself was made of wood, and was sparsely decorated with a table and a few chairs. This was the front room, where everyone gathered to talk. No one did any business in here, so no one had bothered to make the space comfortable. There were always a few dozen people in the room, but no one had even tried to add decorations or style to the room. A few years ago, someone had placed a potted plant in the far left corner of the room. They’d promptly forgotten about it, and now the plant was dead and the pot was covered in dust.

“Who the hell is that?” Marinette’s cousin stalked across the room, shoving a chair out of her way. Unlike Marinette, this girl was model-tall, and her hair flowed to her waist. Her knuckles were stained with old blood, and Marinette wondered who they were questioning.

“Hey, it’s Mei!” It was their greeting. They had been saying the same thing since they were children and thought rhyming was cute. Marinette waited the customary ‘Look at thet, it’s Marinette!’ It never came.

“Shut up, Marinette, why did you bring a Cat Noir stan here? You know the rules!” Mei loomed over her and her hair curtained Marinette off from the rest of the room. She was trying to intimidate her, and it pissed Marinette off like nothing else in the world. When someone who didn’t know about Marinette’s background challenged her, she forgave them. They didn’t know what they were getting into. When her cousins acted all tough? They knew exactly what they were asking for. Marinette’s face tensed, and her voice lashed out like a whip.

“Yeah, I do. Where do you get off telling me to shut up, and come up in my personal space like that? Get out of my face.”

“Fine. I’m out of your face. Now explain the boyfriend.” Marinette glared at Mei, and her younger cousin stepped back and sat down in the chair she’d moved.

“He’s not just some guy, he’s the real Cat Noir. He came to me and already knew about us. I just showed him where one of the hideouts is.” To the left, Marinette heard one of her uncles walking towards her. She turned her head.

Uncle Delun. She had wonderful memories of him helping her with homework, or defending her against her angry mother when she was a child. He now wore a shirt spattered with blood. His face was blank--no expression whatsoever.

“D’ya tell him the punishment if he squeals?” Uncle Delun crossed his arms and jutted his chin towards Cat Noir. He tensed and moved imperceptibly closer to her. Everyone in the room took interest in this action and focused on him. This wasn’t good. The gang was like family to her, and she loved everyone in it to death. She also knew exactly how dangerous they could be, and that they were drawn to fear like sharks to blood.

“Think for a second, would you?” She stood in front of him. “He’s got a secret identity, and if he told anyone about us, we’d know it was him.” Her eyes shifted across the room, making eye contact with all the cousins there--the blood related ones, and the people who were her cousins just from the ideologies of the gang. Uncle Delun backed away, going back to wherever he’d come from.

“Yeah, and we’d track him down and kill him.” Mei called helpfully from her seat

“Where’s Uncle Jiang?” Marinette shook her head, “No, I don’t care.” She trapped Armel, one of her cousins, with her gaze. “Go find him and bring him here. Cat Noir has a favor to ask.”

“Actually,” Cat Noir piped up, “Maybe I should just--” Marinette elbowed him in the stomach.

“You can’t give up now,” she whispered to him. “They’ll eat you alive.”

“They’ll eat me alive anyway!” Cat Noir’s eyes were wide, and he kept inching towards the exit. She pulled him back to her side.

“You’re with me. They won’t hurt you.”

“Ooh,” Mei cooed and leaned forward. “Marinette’s got a boyfriend.”

“Shut up!” Marinette snapped, but she could feel the blood flood her cheeks. “He’s not my boyfriend! He, ah--he just knew I knew the--shut up!”

A man started screaming loudly from the back of the hideout, and Cat Noir jumped, practically landing on top of Marinette. Marinette and Mei turned to see what the ruckus was about. Uncle Delun was dragging a bloodied man into the front room. Armel strode into the room after them, Uncle Jiang in tow.

“You’re interrogating him in the front room?” Marinette wrinkled her nose.

“That’s not very hygienic,” Mei agreed.

Uncle Delun smashed a fist against the man’s cheek. His head snapped to the right with such speed Marinette and Mei both winced. The man spat blood at the ground, and Mei announced she wouldn’t be the one cleaning up after the interrogation.

“You’re worried about hygiene?” Cat Noir gaped.

“I imagine you’re worried about something else?” Uncle Jiang stepped forward and addressed Cat Noir. Cat Noir, though, still looked a little traumatized. Marinette squeezed his hand.

“Uncle Jiang!” She grinned. “I’ve missed you.”

Uncle Jiang smiled back at her, coming forward and ruffling her hair. She tsked. It wasn’t like her hair had been looking very nice, but she didn’t want Cat Noir to view her like a kid. The strange man moaned. It sounded like Uncle Delun jabbed him in the stomach.

“Cat Noir,” Marinette gentled her voice. “This is my uncle Jiang. If you need eyes or ears, he’s who you’ll want to talk to.”

“You want eyes on the streets?” Uncle Jiang raised an eyebrow. Cat Noir swallowed and nodded.

“Ladybug and I need to--” he flinched as Uncle Delun whacked the man again. The man started crying. “We need to start figuring out who are making the Makara and Akuma. We have no leads on the Makara, but one of the Akuma said they’d heard the voice of a man before they were possessed by the butterfly. I want to know who that man is. Paris can’t keep surviving these attacks. We need to work towards preventing them.”

Uncle Delun yelled at the man, demanding to know who he’d bought the drugs from.

“Delun!” Uncle Jian barked. “Get that man out of the damned front room. That’s vile!”

“I was making a point!” Uncle Delun argued. “I’m in charge of the gang as much as you are, so quit bossing me around!”

Uncle Jiang turned to him, standing taller, and showed off his full beard. “I can boss you around as much as I like, I’m older.”

“By ten minutes!” Uncle Delun protested. “That doesn’t mean anything!”

“I’ll call Sabine,” Uncle Jiang threatened. “You can’t argue with twenty minutes older!” Uncle Delun narrowed his eyes at Uncle Jiang, but dragged the man out of the front room, grumbling. A few of her cousins sighed and left to get the blood-cleaning kit. Uncle Jiang turned back to Cat Noir.

“You’re right. Paris can’t continue like this. We’ll cooperate. Meet up with Marinette every week or so. We’ll keep her up to date with anything we find, and she can let you know. Don’t come here again. Typically, outsiders aren’t welcome, you know.”

“I won't be back,” Cat Noir promised. “I’d like to leave now, actually, if that’s at all possible.”

Uncle Jiang nodded and gave Marinette a hard look.

“You,” he pointed at her. “Don’t pull this shit again.” Cat Noir tensed next to her and started stepping towards the man. Marinette pushed him back.

“And you,” she smacked his hand out of her face. “Don’t talk to me like that.” She turned on her heel and opened the door. She wasn’t an idiot. She hadn’t told him all their secrets, she hadn’t given him false promises about the gang, and she hadn’t even let him step four feet into the hideout. What a bunch of assholes. “See you next week!” The door slammed shut behind her.

The cool night air hit Marinette’s face and it helped her calm down.

“Sorry, about--all that.” She almost didn’t want to look at him anymore. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to stand it if he looked scared of her, or like he thought less of her now because of her family or something. She liked him, sure, but family came first. If he didn’t like her because of the gang, he wasn’t worth her time.

Just thinking that made her heart hurt.

“You’re--that was amazing.” He started walking away from the hideout, and she scampered after him. “I can’t believe you’re part of a gang. I can’t believe you’re part of that gang. Everyone was so aggressive and in-your-face, but you, you didn’t even flinch. You went at them with no hesitation, and with such confidence!” Cat Noir turned and studied her. The look in his eyes took her breath away. It almost made her think that he could like her as much as she liked him. “I wish I was half as brave as you.”

“I wasn’t--it’s not like--they’re my family. I’ve always dealt with them. Why would I be afraid?”

“Yeah,” Cat Noir looked up at the sky. “Why would you be afraid?”

Marinette yawned. It was almost three in the morning now, and she still had to wake up for the morning shift at the bakery. Cat Noir yawned, too. It reminded her of a yawning cat. He was adorable.

“I know the way to your house from here,” he said. “I can take us back by using my staff. It’ll be faster. Would you be ok with that?”

“Yes!” She cleared her throat, then tried to sound less enthusiastic. “Yeah, that’d be fine.”

She climbed on his back, and once again held on tighter than was strictly necessary. The air rushed by her, and she was suddenly aware of the fact that she hadn’t put on deodorant before they’d left. She froze in terror. What if she stank, and Cat Noir was just too nice to mention anything about it?

“Don’t be nervous,” he raised his voice above the wind. “I’ll keep you safe while we’re up here.”

She nodded, burying her face into his neck. He shivered, but didn’t say anything or ask her to move. His hair was as soft as cat’s fur. It got in her eye and itched, but she didn’t want to move. They reached her house all too soon. He crouched, and her feet touched the ground. Cat Noir held his hands out to steady her if need be.

They stood on the balcony in silence for a moment.

“I guess…” Marinette pursed her lips. “It’s late. I think I should--I’ll go inside? And go to sleep?”

Why was she asking him?

“Wait,” Cat Noir touched her arm, and she spun around to face him. She was tired of calling herself pathetic, or lame. She liked him, and there was no point in disparaging herself for having emotions. She was ready to embrace her feelings. “Can I come back tomorrow? I think I’ll need your help again.”

Marinette’s eyelids were closing on their own, and tomorrow would only be more busy. She would be woken up in a few hours and forced to work all day, with little to no break, and Cat Noir wanted to take away her precious hours of sleep? She looked at him. His face was so pretty and open. She knew he’d understand if she said no. He wouldn’t try to convince her to change her mind. She didn’t want him to leave. She wanted to spend more time with him.

“Ok.”

Marinette woke up a few hours later, more tired than usual. She slapped on concealer, put in her contacts, and stumbled down the stairs. Her mom waited at the bottom of the stairs, ready to yell at her for taking so long. Marinette only half-listened to her and allowed herself to be dragged into the kitchen. Her dad was already hard at work, mixing a new batch of macarons. Her mom went to check on whatever was in the kitchen. Tom tasked Marinette with making the daily batch of bread for the bakery. It took her longer than usual, and he lost his temper with her. It was hard to see her dad so stressed, so Marinette pushed aside her fatigue and attacked the dough with new vigor.

The family immersed themselves in their work so intensely that no one checked the time until it was almost time for the store to open. Marinette was shoved out the door with no coffee, and she had to run to make it to school on time.

Everyone saw her haggard appearance and the absence of her twenty ounce coffee container and left her alone. French literature was a nightmare. Marinette could barely link two words together, and Mrs. Bustier had the gall to ask the class to verbally analyze a page of text. Marinette stumbled through the exercise, and tried to sleep through the rest of class. It was impossible. Every time she closed her eyes, all the stress she was going to face later in the day came at her like hidden muggers. The reminders of all the work she still had to do crept up on her until the anxiety of it snapped her eyelids open.

Before science, Adrien handed her a cup of coffee. She wasn’t sure how he’d gotten it, but she told him it was the worst coffee she’d ever had. It was a weak brew, and there wasn’t enough sugar in it. He’d laughed and said sorry, but he hoped it helped her wake up. She thanked him tiredly. It wasn’t his fault the coffee was shit, and it was nice of him to think of her at all.

Time crawled on, and Marinette couldn’t concentrate on anything. She went to the nurse and asked to go home. The brief walk from school back to the bakery was a nice break. It was like a timeout from her hectic schedule, and gave her a chance to hype herself up. It was just a couple more days, then life would go back to normal. Everything would be fine. Two days of stress wouldn’t kill her.

At home, her mom didn’t even question her early dismissal from school and set her to work. Neither Tom nor Sabine were particularly good at decorating cakes, so they relied on Marinette and her artistic eye to finely ice seven tiers of the traditional wedding cake. After hours of work, Marinette’s hand cramped, her vision blurred, and her feet hurt from standing so long. Tom inspected her work and cried from the beauty of it all. She made him take a break. He looked positively haggard. She would bet 100 euros he hadn’t even eaten lunch.

While he went to take a power nap, Marinette worked with her mother to decorate hundreds of identical cookies. Only when her hand grew so exhausted that her work started to wobble was Marinette sent to her room. It was seven o’clock. She sat in her spinning chair and closed her eyes for a second, allowing her body to relax for a moment. If only she could sleep for a while. Tikki reminded her of the history test she needed to be studying for. The air burned Marinette’s sleep-deprived eyes.

An hour later, the names of important French figures twirled around her brain. Marinette’s body was stiff, and she needed to take a shower. Tikki said something, but Marinette waved her off without listening.

The shower was a boost of energy into her body. The hot water hit her back and head with force, and it was the closest Marinette had ever gotten to a massage. The flowery scent of her shampoo and body wash enveloped her. Marinette liked to use it as a sort of relaxing aromatherapy. She exited the shower just as her mirror started to fog over. She folded her favorite fluffy towel around her and started drying her hair with a smaller towel as she walked to her room.

Her face paled and she dropped the small towel on the floor. There, in the center of her bedroom, was Cat Noir.

Adrien wasn’t sure what to do. He was in the room of the girl he liked, and she wasn’t wearing anything but a towel. Her eyes pierced him, and both of them froze. Maybe he could close his eyes and act like he wasn’t there? Should he apologize and wait outside? None of the teen romantic comedies he’d seen had properly prepared him for this moment.

He stared at her. Her hair was sticking everywhere, still dripping wet. Beads of water dripped over her face, neck, and shoulders. She was so short the regular-sized towel covered her from the top of her chest to her knees. The parts of her body he could see were damp, and surprisingly muscular. Now that he knew a bit of her background, it didn’t seem so surprising. His eyes traveled back to her face. Her nose was scrunched, and she sputtered for a few seconds.

“Get--why are you--close your--out!” She pointed to the balcony. Right. This was Marinette. She always knew what to do. Why did he even bother freaking out when she could just tell him what to do?

“Right, uh, right! Sorry!” He tripped over himself on his way out. Plagg snorted, and Adrien’s cat ears twitched. Of course the little demon would find this funny.

“I told you not to go in,” Plagg chortled. Adrien paced the length of the balcony.

“The skylight window was open, I thought she was expecting me.”

“Well, on the bright side, she’s not asleep like you worried. You shocked her awake.” Adrien could just imagine Plagg rolling on the ground, holding his fuzzy little stomach, collapsed in peals of laughter.

“This is not funny,” Adrien growled. “It’s embarrassing.”

“I’m not sure why it’s embarrassing for you,” Marinette stepped onto the balcony. “But yeah, it is embarrassing.” He half expected her to avert her gaze from his eyes, but this was Marinette he was talking about. She stood, straight and proud, and stared directly into his eyes. Her glacial eyes were as captivating as always. Her hair hung around her shoulders, still heavily wet. She shrugged on a thick blue coat. It was the same shade her hair would have been if it wasn’t darkened by water.

“Oh, uh,” Adrien was at a loss for words. “It just...sorry. I saw the open window and just came in. I’ll knock next time.”

Marinette crouched down and laced up her brown boots. Even in the simplest outfit, she looked fit to grace the front page of a magazine.

“Do me a favor. Forget it. Please.” She straightened and locked eyes with him. Adrien couldn’t hold back his grin. Every time she said please or thanks, it sounded like someone wrenched it out of her. He nodded, promising to not mention it. He couldn’t promise to forget it--that was just impossible.

“Come on. We’ve got a lot of work to do, and I don’t want to keep you out as long as yesterday.”

“Thank you,” she breathed, climbing onto his back. He’d wondered yesterday why she clung to him so tightly. Now, he knew. She was so strong, she probably didn’t even realize how tightly she was holding onto him. He extended the staff, and they were soon sailing through the air. The fragrant scent of her shampoo swirled through the air. His heart soared. He was here, and so was she, and she was so much nicer to Cat Noir than she ever was to Adrien. This was his chance to talk to her and get her to like him.

“How many people know about your family gang?” He asked her. Cat Noir didn’t know as much about her as Adrien did, so he’d have to slowly ease into other topics.

“No one,” Marinette’s voice was close to his ear. “It’s not allowed because it’s supposed to be secret. You’re the only person I’ve ever told, and the only person I ever will.”

Adrien’s heart thumped. He was the only person who knew--not even her childhood friends she trusted so fully. “Got any more secrets?” He knew he was pushing his luck, but there was no harm in asking.

“Oh, you have no clue.”

Interesting. “What if I guess your secret?” Adrien asked. “Would you be honest and tell me if I got it?”

“I don’t lie,” Marinette said with conviction. “It’s against my moral code.”

“Alright, let’s test that,” Adrien saw the hospital and slightly slowed his pace. “Your favorite color is pink.”

Marinette laughed. “Because of the room?” She guessed. “No. My favorite color is--” she cut herself off and paused. “You’ll have to guess.”

Adrien went in order through the rainbow. He got through red, orange, and yellow before he guessed green and she finally said yes. He’d wasted so much time on this dumb question they were one vault away from the hospital.

“Alright, here’s my next theory about you. You know how to fight?”

“You’re right,” Marinette snorted. “Probably better than you.” They landed at the window of the hospital the staff kept open for him. He climbed in and helped her to the ground. “What are we doing here?”

“We’re investigating!” He said cheerily. Being a detective was so fun, especially when Marinette was with him. He showed her around the room. “There are a lot of unpurified Akuma from the past year and however many months. Ladybug and I can only purify so many Akuma at one time. My source of magic gets tired after one Cataclysm, and I have to detransform and feed him. So, I’ve stashed a lot of snacks here, and we’re going to interrogate the Akuma for information.”

Marinette nodded grimly. Adrien was a little uncertain about that look on her face. When he said interrogate, he meant asking what they remembered. He wondered if that was what Marinette thought.

“What am I doing here?” she asked him. Adrien held up a small glass jar. The hospital kept a large supply of them in the Akuma ward for these exact situations.

“You’ll be catching the Akuma while I detransform and feed my kwami--that’s the source of my magic.”

Marinette grabbed the little glass jar and nodded resolutely. They moved like a team to the first Akuma. He destroyed the Akuma’s weak point, and Marinette caught the butterfly. Adrien woke the woman, but she couldn’t remember anything. Marinette told her to go back to sleep, and go home in the morning. They didn’t have time to answer her questions.

Marinette turned around as Adrien de-transformed, fed Plagg a twinkie, and transformed again. They woke the next Akuma before he destroyed its weak point. That woman told them she remembered a man’s voice, but couldn’t recall anything else. The next four Akuma all yielded similar results. They either remembered nothing, or a vague sense of a man’s voice.

“This isn’t working,” Marinette said, almost an hour later. “Let me try.” She flexed her hand, and Adrien noticed something shiny on her knuckles. She went to the Akuma and took off the mask covering its nose and mouth--it was a gas mask which pumped the Akuma full of general anesthesia to keep it asleep.

“Hey, what exactly are you planning to--”

The Akuma slowly woke up. Marinette grabbed its face and turned it towards her. “I’m going to ask you once, and you’d better answer. Who are you working for?”

She looked frighteningly similar to her uncle from yesterday. The Akuma shook its head and growled at her. Marinette wound her fist back and punched it in the face. Adrien winced at the hit. The Akuma screeched. Adrien looked out into the hallway. There were a few nurses who were close enough to have heard the noise. One pointed to the door, and the others shook their heads.

“You’re going to regret not answering when I was asking nicely.” Her voice was ice cold. It actually sent a shiver up Adrien’s spine. Looking at her, he knew this was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She had the same blue-black hair, the same almond shaped eyes, the same button nose. However, this was a side of her she’d never shown anyone--he was the first to see it, aside from anyone in her gang. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this new side of her.

Marinette hit the Akuma again. There was no way the nurses didn’t hear the Akuma’s shriek, or the clamor of the Akuma pulling against its restraints. The first nurse pointed at the door again, but the others led her away. Adrien turned back to Marinette, and the now bloody Akuma.

“Marinette, you’re going to knock it out!” The savage nature of the interrogation was starting to fray his nerves. When he’d asked Marinette to come with him to the hospital, this wasn’t exactly what he had in mind.

“Don’t worry,” she looked at him grimly. “I’ve done this before. He’ll break soon.” She turned to the Akuma and socked him in the gut. Adrien flinched at the sound of the metal brass knuckles against flesh. His gut churned. He looked at Marinette’s face. Her mouth was hard, her nose scrunched, but her eyes held a certain weight of wariness. The Akuma grunted, and Marinette pulled back.

“Isn’t this against your moral code or something?” Adrien asked. Marinette shook her head. She didn’t look at him.

“It’s either this, or let Paris continuously be destroyed, right?” He couldn’t argue with that. Marinette turned to the Akuma again. Adrien observed her face shut down, not letting a single emotion through her features. She looked down at the Akuma and asked him, once again, who he worked for. Adrien saw the minute hesitation in her before she laid into the Akuma again. He closed his eyes and looked away. They both knew the person beneath the Akuma would come out of this unscathed. She still didn’t look like she enjoyed this.

“Hawkmoth,” the Akuma hissed. Marinette let her fist drop. “Hawkmoth!” he wailed. Adrien stepped forward and tried to Cataclysm the weak spot. Marinette stopped him.

“No.” Her voice was small, but traveled through the room. “We broke him. It’ll be easier to ask him more than to get through to another one.” The way she said it, with no inflection in her voice, made him feel strange. This was Marinette, the girl who fought for justice and against hurting others, yet here she was, beating a man (Akuma) until they told her exactly what she wanted to know. She was like a shade of herself. While she was normally full of fire and life, she was now tempered and cooled by a layer of emotionless ice.

Adrien stood at Marinette’s shoulder as she continued to question the Akuma. It was difficult to see her beat the Akuma when he wouldn’t answer her questions, but it got results. Well, all the results they could get from a single Akuma. The creator was Hawkmoth. He didn’t make the Makara. The Akuma didn’t know where Hawkmoth resided.

Marinette stood back and let Adrien destroy the Akuma’s weak point. She captured it, and turned away from him.

“Can I leave?”

He nodded and walked to the window. She didn’t follow him. He looked at her, gesturing for her to follow. She shook her head and said she’d walk.

“You can’t walk home alone,” Adrien said. It was dark out. No matter how strong she was, no matter how capable, he couldn’t let the girl he liked walk alone through Paris in the middle of the night. “I’ll come with you.”

She frowned at him. “You can’t. Just leave me alone.” He knew how she sounded when she was actually mad. She’d spit enough angry words at him to know the biting quality of her fury. She wasn’t angry right now, but she sure wanted him to think she was.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t act concerned about me,” she pursed her lips. “Just go home. I’ll be fine. Did you get enough information for Ladybug?”

“I’m not acting, I’m actually worried.” He studied her face. She still wasn’t showing her emotions. It was so unlike her, it made him want to shake her until she went back to normal. “What happened? One second you were fine, and now you’re acting...weird.”

She turned and marched out the room without a word. Now she was ignoring him, walking away from him without a word? This was so out of character, Adrien couldn’t figure out what was going on. He followed her. Doctors and nurses on the night shift looked at them with confusion, but no one stopped them. They stepped out into the night, but Marinette didn’t slow down, and his patience wore thin.

“Hey,” he snapped at her. “Knock it off!” Her back stiffened. Her gait slowed for an imperceptible moment, but then she kept moving. He grabbed her arm and spun her around. Her eyes were red around the rims, and she wrenched her arm out of his grip.

“What?” She asked. “Is there something else you need? Well, I don’t want to. I want to go home.”

“What’s your problem?” He stared at her, and her face flushed.

“My problem is that I’m tired!” She cried, throwing her hands up. “I want to go home. Don’t question me. Please.”

There was that please, tacked on at the end like someone yanked it out of her. He pursed his lips, and nodded. “Fine. I’m sorry I kept you out so late, but there’s no need to bite my head off when I didn’t know there was a problem.”

“People need to stop saying that,” Marinette frowned. She started walking again, but Adrien stopped her.

“I’ll take you back, it’s late.”

She really must have been tired, because she didn’t try arguing again. The journey back was quiet, and unbearably long. Adrien longed for the earlier easy conversation they’d had. He dropped her on her balcony and turned to leave.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. She was looking at the ground, but when he faced her, she lifted her head up proudly. “I lied. I am tired, but that’s not all. I don’t want to talk to you about it, though, so I lied.”

“Oh.” Adrien couldn’t think of anything else to say. It felt weird to hear someone directly say that they had lied to him. He wondered what was going through her head, but he also knew questioning her about it would be pointless--she wouldn’t tell him. “I’ll, uh, see you around, I guess.”

“Yeah,” she murmured miserably, hopping back into her room. “Sure.”

He turned and went home.

“Marinette, what’s wrong?” Tikki hovered by Marinette’s head as she brushed her teeth. Marinette spat in the sink and slowly went to her bed, sinking into the mattress. Tikki shut the light and zipped back to Marinette’s side.

“I’ve ruined everything,” Marinette sniffled. “He said interrogation, and my mind went immediately to what I was trained to do. I got the answers Cat Noir was looking for, but he looked at me like I was a monster or something. He hates me now, and I still like him so much it hurts.”

“Maybe he doesn’t hate you,” Tikki tried to reassure. “Did he say he did?” Marinette snorted.

“He isn’t just going to come out and say ‘wow, Marinette, you’re terrifying, and I hate you.”

“Are you sure that’s all?” Tikki asked. “It seems like there’s something else you’re upset about.” Marinette stayed silent, memories swirling through her head. Tikki settled on the pillow next to her head, and Marinette sighed.

“Tikki, am I a hypocrite?”

“Everyone is, at some point. Why wouldn’t you be, too?”

“Because I’m supposed to be better than this!” Marinette growled, throwing the duvet off of her. She remained flat on the bed. “I’m supposed to be honest, and keep others safe. I’ve always been that person--I’ve been protecting my classmates from bullies ever since I can remember.”

“So?”

“So, today I beat up an Akuma to get answers. It was vital information, and I knew the person wouldn’t be hurt after they got purified, but it felt wrong. I haven’t conducted an interrogation for the gang in years. I promised myself I wouldn’t anymore. I broke that promise today. I was...ashamed for Cat Noir to see that side of me. I felt like the biggest fraud in the world.

“Then I yelled at him when he was worried about me. I did just what Chloe’s been doing for years, and what I’ve villainized her for. I yelled at him, ignored him, and then I lied to him.” Marinette flopped on her stomach. “I feel like the worst person in the universe, and Cat Noir saw it all. He hates me, I just know it!”

“I think you’re overreacting,” Tikki said simply. “You’re a teenager, and you like the guy. Of course you want to show him your best side. Anyone in your situation would feel bad about showing the person they like the dirtier side of themselves.”

“I’m not supposed to have a dirty side!” Marinette growled into her pillow. “I can’t afford to have one.” She was Ladybug, damnit. More than that, she had morals she didn’t deviate from. If she suddenly allowed herself to become tainted, who would she be? She wouldn’t be any better than the people the gang went after.

“You’re putting too much pressure on yourself,” Tikki shrugged. “You’re human. You make mistakes, especially when they’re as sleep deprived as you are. You just happened to make this mistake in front of the guy you like.”

Marinette groaned into her pillow.

“At least you didn’t stutter around him,” Tikki patted her cheek. “And you still have a shot with him as Ladybug.”

The next night, Marinette laid in bed with her history book covering her face. Her back cracked, and she sighed in relief. Tikki complained that she couldn’t read it when the book was flat on her face like that. Then, she dove under the bed. Marinette didn’t think too much about it. She’d probably dropped her cookie or something.

Someone knocked on her skylight. Marinette sighed and snuggled further in bed. Her mom would get it or something. The knock came again.

“Marinette?”

She flung the book across the room and sat up, eyes snapping open. The book slammed against the opposite wall and she winced. Damn reflexes. More pressing, though, were the two glowing green eyes above her, and one cat superhero with the most endearing smile on his face she’d ever seen. She jumped off the bed, wishing she was wearing a bra. She gestured for him to come in and he dropped onto her carpet. She stood in front of him, not sure what to say.

His hair was shiny, as always, and his face was relaxed and gentle. Hope bloomed in her hope--maybe he forgave her for yesterday, for everything she’d said and did.

“Are you--do you…” she trailed off. What should she say? She wasn’t often in a situation where she didn’t know what to say, and she wouldn’t allow Cat Noir to render her speechless. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“I was really confused,” Cat Noir said. He wandered to her spinning chair and sat down, propelling himself across the room until he was in front of her. He was so tall and she was so short that they were almost equal in height. “You seemed to flip a switch so suddenly, and then you were so rude, I couldn’t figure out what happened.”

Marinette winced at the reminder of how she’d acted the day before. She opened her mouth to explain herself, but Cat Noir spoke first. “I think I’ve figured it out. You weren’t yourself. I see the way you are when we’re here, or when we’re just talking alone. I also saw how you acted when we were at your gang’s hideout. It changes you, and I’m not even sure if you yourself know how different you are when you’re in that mode. When we were at the hospital yesterday, when you were...interrogating that guy, you slipped into Gang Member Marinette mode. That was a part of you, but not a part you like showing people, and it bothered you that I was there. Then, I just made it worse by trying to talk to you.”

He looked at her. He was so understanding and forgiving. Somehow he understood. She fell for him a little more. He not only thought about her and tried to figure out why she’d acted like the biggest bitch in the world, but he figured it out. He was so smart, so thoughtful, so good--he was everything she wanted to be.

“I should’ve left you alone,” he said. “I’m sor--”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” she said quickly. “If you do, I’ll never be able to look at myself in the mirror again.”

“That won’t do,” Cat Noir grinned slightly. “You have such a pretty face. It’d be a shame if you never saw it again.”

“Uh,” Marinette’s face burned. Was he flirting with her? She hoped he was. Maybe she was just reading into it too much. “Do you have more investigative work you want to do?”

“No,” Cat Noir leaned back in his chair. “Is that ok? Is it alright if we just hang out? I like talking to you.”

If lighting struck her and she died at that instant, Marinette would have died happy.

She told him she’d recently seen The Watchers and was in the mood to watch the first movie the director had made. He agreed to watch it with her, and she brought snacks up for them as he tried to figure out how to get it started on her laptop. She invited him to her bed and they watched the movie. She interrupted quite frequently to tell him all the facts she knew about the movie, and the process of making the film. He didn’t mind at all, and asked questions as the movie progressed. About halfway through he asked if he could turn the lights on.

“Why?” She asked.

“No reason.” He paused, “The movie might scare you. I’m just being considerate.”

“Horror movies don’t scare me.” She assured him, and he closed his eyes.

“That’s right. They don’t scare you,” he murmured to himself. He braced himself and turned to her. “Confession time: I’m afraid of horror movies. I don’t watch horror or action or thriller. I strictly watch romantic comedies, or romantic dramas, or nature documentaries if I’m feeling particularly adventurous.”

Mariniette grinned at him. That was so cute. “No problem, we can turn the lights on.” She did so, but when she went back to the bed, she moved closer to him than before. Her heart pounded and she worried he would judge her for being so forward. “I’ll be here to protect you if you’re scared.” she explained. He draped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her closer.

The movie ended and she turned on another one. Neither of them ended up paying attention to it, and it just served as background noise. He talked to her about all the tutors his father had for him, including the Chinese ones. She made him speak to her.

“Why are you blushing?” She laughed. “You’re good, I swear!”

“I feel like I have an accent, and that you’re laughing at me.” He admitted.

“There’s a slight accent, sure, but I can understand what you’re saying. Don’t worry about it.”

“Can we just forget about this?” He asked, studying the pattern on her duvet. She leaned towards him, pushing through her nervousness, and flicked the tip of his nose. His eyes flickered to her, and when he saw she was still watching her, he turned to stare at the wall by his side.

“You’re so cute when you’re nervous.”

She expected him to tease her back, but he just flushed and asked her about the movie. She was happy to talk about it, and the second movie ended fairly quickly. They didn’t turn on another movie after that, just talking. She told him about how she got into fashion, and her dream of being the lead designer one day, and showing a collection at fashion week. Cat Noir didn’t have any professional dreams yet; he just wanted his dad to notice him again. He was pretty vague about it, but Marinette got the feeling Cat Noir’s family life wasn’t very happy.

Cat Noir started yawning uncontrollably around one in the morning, and she sent him home. She reminded him to come every week or so to get any news her gang would have found. He agreed before slowly vaulting himself home.

Marinette climbed back under her covers and put her computer away, leaving any leftover snacks out for Tikki. She wasn’t sure how long she laid in bed, just smiling to herself and going through all her conversations with him from the past few hours. She eventually fell asleep with a large smile on her face, feeling like she was floating.

Chapter Text

Marinette’s fingers trembled and her heart raced, staring at the Makara in front of her. Around her dozens of green plants sprouted. They seemed to come from the Makara--anything it touched became a patch of green, but the Makara moved incredibly slowly. The leaves from the plants grew non-stop. A few officers were stuck back half a block back, still attacking the shrubs with high powered weed-wackers and herbicides.

There was no Akuma in sight. Maybe Hawkmoth was still asleep. She didn’t blame him. She would be, too, if she could. She cautiously stepped forward and crushed a plant under her foot. She felt the slime stick to the bottom of her foot, like slug slime. It was cold, and it felt as uncomfortable as stepping in water with socks on. Her skin crawled--that was gross.

A sharp smell wafted into Marinette’s nostrils, and her heart sped once again. She’d never felt like this, and it scared her. She glanced behind her. She swore someone was following her. The anxiety of that possibility made her want to curl up in a ball and cry until her mom came and made everything alright. She jumped and swung her yo-yo at a noise on her right. It was just loose rock which tumbled down a building.

The Makara inched forward again, and another patch of green grew from under its feet. Marinette could only see to the top of its knees. It was huge, and she didn’t feel confident enough to throw her yo-yo up to find its face.

She shrieked when a blur of black touched down next to her. She could barely see him, but she knew he was there. Her eyes slid across the horizon. Something was there, worse than the Makara, she was sure of it.

“Calm down, Marinette,” Tikki sighed. “This isn’t like you.”

“Another advanced Makara?” Cat Noir covered his nose and looked at the plants around them. “Do we know what it does?”

Marinette wrung her hands. He was awfully late. She’d already been there for fifteen minutes. No one had made any progress in defeating the Makara.

“Uh, we’re not sure,” she glanced at the Makara, a cold sweat trailing down her back. “But we know it has to do with the plants.”

Cat Noir snorted and glared at the Makara. “I can tell you exactly what it does--it’s making everyone a nervous wreck. It’s fucking annoying.”

Marinette gaped at him. She’d never seen him so angry. “Are you alright?”

“No, I’m not fucking alright,” He turned and glared at her. She stepped back and swallowed. “Do you know how little sleep I’ve been getting lately? And apparently everyone in the whole house cares more about my sleep cycle than anything else about me! I can’t have my eight hours of sleep interrupted again, it’s starting to affect my complexion!”

A few officers crept up to them, using them as a shield. Marinette glanced at their guns. Was the safety on? What if they accidentally shot at her?

“I’m, uh, your complexion?”

“My face is my life,” Cat Noir narrowed his eyes at her. “These damned Makara ruin everything. First they destroy my family, and now they’re ruining my sleep schedule? A night attack, is this for real? No fucking way I was woken up at three thirty in the morning to fight a damned Makara, I’ll have bags under my eyes for days.”

“Uh, I’m sure your face--is still pretty?”

“It--is,” Cat Noir bit out. “And it’s my job to make sure it stays that way. These Makara are not helping.”

He glared up at the Makara, and Marinette nervously bit her lip. She hesitantly threw her yo-yo, attempting to tangle the Makara’s legs in the string. She was so nervous that the yo-yo missed. It hit a crumbling building, completely destroying it. Because of magical physics, the yo-yo bounced back and hit her in the face. She fell back into a patch of green. She gasped, unable to see anything but the tops of the plants.

Suddenly it became very hard to breathe. She gasped, and it still wasn’t enough. She laid there for minutes or hours, fingers numb and heart pounding through her chest. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t see--she was going to die. She gasped and hyperventilated, and the plants shook gently, as if mocking her. Their scent drifted down to her, and the impending sense of doom grew stronger. She wouldn’t be able to make it out of this, she just knew it.

“You’re fine,” Tikki assured her. “It’s just the Makara’s power. You need to get up, Marinette. Cat Noir needs you!”

Oh God. The idea of standing exhausted her. The thought of helping Cat Noir as he fought the Makara? Inconceivable. She couldn’t do it. Her heavy breathing rustled the leaves above her, and they waved the scent back to her. She was getting lightheaded, and felt like she was going to pass out.

Underneath all her panic was intense confusion. What was she supposed to do? She’d never felt this much fear, this much stress over nothing. She couldn’t fight nothing. All she could do was lay there and worry about it.

Cat Noir’s hand reached in and grabbed her. His other hand covered his nose to keep the fumes of the plants away from him. He was glaring at her. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her, hard. Her teeth clicked together. She was still so dizzy from hyperventilating, and being suddenly pulled up and shaken like a maraca was not helping. She grabbed his arm to steady her, but he pulled away.

“Snap out of it!” He ordered. “I refuse to let you act like this. Come on, I need your lucky charm. Make a sword--I want it to get bigger or smaller when I need it to change size. The closer it is to a fencing saber the better.”

“Lucky...charm.” Speaking louder than a whisper seemed like a bad idea. She squeezed her eyes shut and her fingers grew warm.

“Hurry up,” Cat Noir urged. “I need to go to sleep. I can practically feel the pimples emerging from my face.”

“You’re...not helping,” she said shakily. “I need quiet.”

“Well I need a fencing rapier!” he snapped. “Looks like we’re both out of luck, huh?”

“Here,” she held it out to him. He snatched it from her hands. Officer Claude moved next to her and helped keep her steady.

“Deep breaths,” he said. “You had a panic attack under the plants. Officer Madeline had the same problem a few minutes ago. You’re going to be very tired for the rest of the night.”

“He was so mad at me,” she whispered, watching as Cat Noir jerkily wielded the saber. “He’s right. I should be there, helping him.”

“You’ll faint, and then you’ll die.” Officer Claude held her back. “You’ve faced plenty of Makara on your own before. Let him return the favor.”

“I feel useless,” A strange feeling crept through her body, and it coated her throat and stomach. “And if I don’t do something soon, something really bad is going to happen.”

“That’s the plants talking,” Officer Claude said. “Take regular breaths, you’re still breathing too irregularly. Follow my lead.”

Marinette did her best to follow his overemphasized breathing pattern. Every once in a while, Cat Noir’s impulsive battle with the Makara caught her attention, but Officer Claude kept turning her back to him. She wondered why he wasn’t affected. She asked him to try and distract herself from Cat Noir’s battle.

“Oh, I feel it alright,” he chuckled humorlessly. “I used to be in the military. We felt this level of stress all the time, I’m used to it. You’ve never felt like this before, which is why you’re reacting so strongly to it. I’m betting Cat Noir’s had experience with this before, and getting angry and impatient is his way of coping with it.”

In the background, Marinette could hear the Makara begin to dissolve. It sounded like the air leaking out of a tire, and occurred just about as slowly. This Makara was so slow in general, it was strange.

Officer Claude continued to breathe with her, and Cat Noir stalked over to her. Officer Claude stood at her side, and Marinette felt vulnerable. It was such a disgusting feeling--like little pricks were running up and down her body, like someone was watching her, like someone was pouring ice over her head. She hated this feeling almost as much as she hated the way Cat Noir was looking at her.

“Where the hell were you?” He threw the rapier into the ground. “We’re partners, remember? First you take three days off, and now you sit in a ditch and cry while I go off and do all the hard stuff? Get it together, Ladybug. That’s pathetic!”

Tears welled in Marinette’s eyes, and she knew she was about to cry. Her throat thickened, and she opened her mouth to speak, but then the Makara finished dissolving. The stench in the air was completely replaced by a fresh, summery scent. An officer a couple hundred meters away reported that they were finally having luck chopping down the plants.

Marinette’s mind cleared, and the tears in her eyes dried. Cat Noir’s face paled. Officer Claude walked away whistling. Marinette kept her gaze on Cat Noir. She would never allow anyone to speak to her the way he’d spoken to her, not even him, no matter how much she liked him.

“What did you say to me?” She demanded, stepping up to him. Cat Noir’s eyes softened, and he reached towards her. 

“Ladybug, I’m so--”

“You called me pathetic.” She remembered the nights she’d spent with him when he thought she was Marinette. He was so kind, so helpful and understanding. Was that all an act? Was this what he was really like? Her disappointment at this revelation quickly turned into anger. She wanted so badly to just snap and start screaming at him, but she held herself back. She had a feeling their partnership would never be able to recover from that. Her voice trembled as she struggled to keep control over her volume. “Where do you get off acting so high and mighty--is that what you’ve been thinking this whole time? That’s disgusting. We’re partners, yes, and that means one of us takes over when the other’s having a hard time, or incapacitated--and obviously, I was having a hard time.” She felt like a rubber band stretched too tight.

“No, it’s not like that!” he snapped back. “Listen to me before you rush to make judgments, will you? Some day that might bite you in the ass.” Marinette pursed her lips, recalling her abhorrent treatment of Adrien. She’d been so sure she knew who he was and what he was thinking. She’d been completely wrong.

“The damned Makara’s plants induce stress. See?” He crushed a leaf under his foot, and the scent, though fainter than before, made her heart beat faster for a moment. “You felt it, too. You were flat on your back forever because of it, but that’s not you inside, is it? The Makara got to me, too. And I’m generally in a bad mood when I’m woken up in the middle of the night anyway. Give people a break, would you? We’re humans, not robots who can be programmed with good manners, or whatever you expect of us.”

His words shot straight through her. She did that a lot--she expected perfection from those around her and allowed herself to have bad days because she knew what she was going through. Why did she never give others the benefit of the doubt? She looked at Cat Noir, and a surge of aching affection rose in her. Even now, when he had every right to be furious with her, he was standing in front of her and telling her what was wrong with her, how she could fix it. He was so patient and understanding where she was quick-tempered and inconsiderate. Had she really thought he was hiding a horrible personality under a perfect facade? Why was she always so quick to jump to conclusions?

“You’re right,” she said. “I am judgmental, and I'm quick to call people out when they act like assholes. I should apologize--but I won't. Not until you say sorry first.”

He sighed, ran his hands through his hair, "Me? What do I have to say sorry for?"

"Your entire attitude tonight!" She threw her hands up in the air. "You were so mean, and then you came up to me screaming in my face--you'd better could yourself lucky I have a reputation to uphold, I don't let people get away with that shit when I'm a civilian."

"I already told you, it wasn't my fault!" Cat Noir pointed at his face.

"That's a shitty mindset," Marinette glared at him. This new side of Cat Noir was annoying as hell, but somehow it grounded him, and made him more human. It became easier to take him off the pedestal she'd placed him on, and made them equals. "If you're going to have the nerve to tell me to watch what I say, you'd better be willing to check yourself."

"Ladybug, I'm tired,"

"Well newsflash, Stud--everyone else was sleeping, too. You're not special, and I want an apology."

Cat Noir paced. Four chimes beeped in Marinette's ears. He was going to have to get over himself, and soon. He faced her and pursed his lips. His voice softened. "You're right. I'm being unfair, and I'm an asshole. I'm sorry."

Marinette sighed, and the anger seeped out of her. "It's alright. You were right when you said I expect too much out of people. You made a mistake, and it's not like I've never done that before. So, I'm sorry, too."

There was nothing left to say. Marinette swung home and crashed into bed. She almost didn’t wake up when her alarm clock rang an hour later.

Adrien trudged to school, arriving close to twenty minutes late. He didn’t care. He was exhausted. Stress and adrenaline from his fights with the Makara and Ladybug buzzed through his body for hours last night. He hadn’t slept a wink after he’d arrived home, and it clearly showed on his face. He’d applied a thin layer of concealer under his eyes that morning to keep Natalie from keeling over from shock.

He’d demanded a few weeks ago that she stop checking his sleep cycle, but he was sure if she saw the dark smudges under his eyes, she would never give up checking on his sleep again. In fact, he could almost imagine her getting up and physically checking on him in the middle of the night, just to make sure he was asleep.

He walked through the doors to his homeroom, and the class turned to stare at him. Chloe raised an eyebrow at his appearance, but he was focused on another girl. He strode to Marinette, who was using her arms like a pillow, and blocking out the light from the room.

“Can I have some coffee?” he nearly begged her. He’d seen her give it to others in the past, and he really needed an energizing boost this morning. His own household didn’t have anything with caffeine in it.

“It’ll dehydrate you,” she mumbled, not looking up. “It’ll dull your glowing complexion.”

“My glowing complexion,” he snorted, leaning down. “You’re just pretending to care about that because you don’t want to share.”

She looked up at him for the first time and gave him an impish grin. “Guilty.” Still, she unscrewed the lid to her thermos and let him have some. It was rich and sickly sweet. Caffeine and sugar, both mixed in one drink. Natalie would have a heart attack.

“Are you done with...that?” Mrs. Bustier questioned from the front of the classroom. “We do, uh, have a lesson?”

“Why are we even here?” Alix questioned. “There was a Makara attack last night. Doesn’t that mean we don’t have school today?”

“I don’t make the rules,” Mrs. Bustier sighed, then she brightened. “Let’s play a game!” Everyone groaned. “It’s called: ‘no more asking Mrs. Bustier any questions.’”

“Hey, that sounds a lot like the game Mrs. Mendeleiv likes to play,” Nathaniel called from the back of the room. “Did you guys learn it at the same summer camp?”

Mrs. Bustier looked like she was going to throw down her piece of chalk and cry. “The rules of the game are in the title. ‘No more asking Mrs. Bustier any questions.’”

“Are those all the rules?” Kim asked. Nino raised his hand and spoke before Mrs. Bustier could stop him.

“Is it true that if the teacher if out of the room for fifteen minutes, the students are dismissed from school?”

Suddenly the classroom was a flurry of sound, and questions were fired at Mrs. Bustier almost non-stop. She ran out of the room, not even giving her usual excuse of needing to use the restroom.

“I’ve started the timer!” Max called. Adrien took a last sip of coffee, handed the lid back to Marinette, and leaned against her table. Chloe wandered over to him.

“You’re looking nice today, Marinette,” Adrien complemented. She exchanged glances with Alya, then raised an eyebrow at him. He gestured to her outfit. “Where’d you get it?”

Like someone injected her veins with pure coffee, she perked up. She stood and showed the entire ensemble. “I don’t buy my clothes,” she said happily. “I make it all.”

“Very nice,” he said. “I especially like the pockets. Each side reminds me of a butterfly without hitting me over the head with it. Turn around?” She happily did so, explaining that the jacket was actually inspired by the butterfly which possessed the Akuma. “I like the embroidery on the back,” Adrien complemented. “It reminds me of wings without ramming it into me that I’m looking at a butterfly-inspired jacket.”

“Ten minutes left!” Max called. The class raised its volume, hoping to scare Mrs. Bustier away if she dared return.

Marinette beamed at him. “I’m so glad you noticed! No one ever notices!”

“Are you sure about the denim on denim, though?” Adrien questioned, eyes flickering from her denim jacket down to her skinny jeans. “The pants are tailored excellently, by the way.”

“Of course I’m sure!” She sounded offended. “Denim on denim is in, and if you wear it with enough confidence, it will always be in!”

“I’m not sure. I think it would work better if one denim was darker than the other denim, but since both your denims seem to be cut from the same cloth, they match in color. I’m just not sure how well it works.”

“You know,” Alya said from the side, completely surprising him. He’d forgotten she was even there. “That was terribly said. If that was written out, it would be awful to read. You repeated ‘denim’ so many times, it made my head spin. A good writer never repeats the same word too many times in one paragraph.”

“Well, its a good thing no one’s going to read what I say, then,” Adrien said, confused. Chloe poked her head into the conversation and added her two cents.

“That’s not always true,” she declared. Alya raised an eyebrow at her.

“Oh? And how much do you know about writing?”

“I know plenty,” Chloe sniffed. “I’m not an idiot. Think about body parts. How many ways can someone describe eyes before it gets dumb? ‘His brown eyes,’ ‘her blue orbs,’ ‘beautiful green spheres,’ ‘the windows to the soul.’ Sometimes if you try and change up the diction too much, it sounds stupid.”

“Yeah, for eyes, sure, but what about…”

Their conversation continued, but it interested Adrien about as much as watching a blank computer screen did. He turned back to Marinette.

“Turn around again?” he asked, and she did, trying to show off her design. “I really like the pockets.” She turned and looked at him with intense disappointment.

“The butt pockets?”

“Yup. And the butt itself.”

She rolled her eyes and flopped back into her seat.

“Two minutes left!” The class started packing up. Alya and Chloe were struggling to talk over each other, for some reason rapidly quoting Shakespeare at one another.

“What a nerd,” Adrien and Marinette said at the same time. They glanced at each other, surprised. He grinned at her, and Marinette reluctantly smiled back. It still took his breath away how her face changed when she allowed herself to look happy. The corners of her eyes lifted, her cheeks plumped up, and she looked so much more at ease than she normally did. It made his heart do somersaults to know that he had said something she found amusing enough to smile at.

“Fifteen minutes have elapsed!” Max’s voice rose over the class.

Kim whooped. “We can leave!”

Chloe and Alya were still talking or arguing or something. Adrien tried talking to Marinette, but she was on her phone. Nino came up behind him and clapped him on the back.

“I bet you’re not expected back home for a few hours,” he grinned. “Wanna hang out?”

“Uh,” he glanced at Marinette. She didn’t even acknowledge him. Nino gave him a knowing look and tapped Marinette on the head.

“You free to hang out today?”

“I have plans with Kagami,” she said. “If she can come along, sure.”

“This works out great,” Nino said, pulling Adrien up next to him. “You’ve got your plus one, and I’ve got mine.”

“We were planning on going to our favorite cafe. Is there anywhere else you guys had in mind, or are you fine joining us?”

“There are cafes opened the day after a Makara attack?” Adrien questioned. Marinette nodded.

“Some businesses can’t afford to close. They don’t usually get a lot of business, but for them, any customers are vital customers. Kagami and I like their milkshakes. The food is pretty good, too.” Marinette grabbed her stuff. “Walk with me to the bakery. I’ll drop my stuff off, then I’ll guide you guys to the cafe.”

“Awesome,” Nino grinned. “Dude, looks like you’re playing hookie for the first time, and I get to be here to witness it.”

“Technically, he’s not 'playing hookie,'” Max appeared out of nowhere, and Nino looked less than ecstatic to see him. “According to the school rules, he is legally allowed to leave, and since there is nothing binding him here, there is nothing for him to play hookie from.”

“Max, Dude, you seriously take the fun out of everything.”

Nino liked to consider himself friendly. He tried to make friends wherever he went. It was never hard for him to strike up a conversation, and learning about people fascinated him. He liked hearing their perspective on things, and tried to expand his mind with every new interaction he had. He found it helped keep him a balanced person, and influenced his music to keep it from going static. So, when Marinette mentioned meeting up with one of her childhood friends--a friend he’d never met before--he was over the moon happy. Since the Makara attacks had started, it wasn’t as easy to meet new people. Heck, it was hard enough to keep in touch with friends he’d already had, let alone make new friends.

With the police mainly focused on the giant monsters which were beginning to attack more and more frequently, other crimes were becoming more common. It made folks nervous to meet new people; no one knew if it was a kidnapper or murderer or something equally bad. It was hard not to blame the police for the spike in crime, but at the same time, Nino knew they were at the end of their rope. People liked to think of the police as an entity, and it was easy to forget about them as people. Nino liked to remind himself that, even if they signed up to be civil servants, they were still people, and they couldn’t do everything that was demanded of them.

The point was, he was stoked to have the opportunity to meet someone new. If they were friends with Marinette, they already had common ground, and he wouldn’t have to use something lame like the weather to start conversation.

“That’s Kagami,” Marinette pointed at a girl standing in front of a cafe. The girl looked up from her phone and waved at them. Kagami was another short Asian girl, but not as short as Marinette, and probably not Chinese. If Nino had to guess, he’d think she was Japanese. Her hair grazed her ears, and the bangs framed her brown eyes. For a guy like Nino, who wasn’t necessarily tall, it was nice to hang out with two petite girls, especially when he was also hanging out with the six foot tall blonde Adonis known as Adrien Agreste.

“Oh, right, introductions.” She looked at Nino. “Friend, meet other friend.” Then she looked at the blonde model next to him. “Adrien, meet Kagami.” Nino shook his head.

“That’s not funny anymore,” he mumbled. He’d only introduced Marinette to his classroom friend like that one time and he was like, seven, and for some reason she could not let it go. “I’m Nino.”

“You’re Nino?” Kagami looked surprised. Marinette led everyone inside. “I always imagined you...different, somehow.”

“Marinette talks about me?” Nino leaned closer and grinned. “What does she say about me?”

“She says you’re one of her closest friends.” Kagami said matter-of-factly. Nino blinked and looked at Marinette who was scowling at her.

“Do you always have to do that?” she complained. “You’re always going around spilling my secrets. Why?”

“That was so sweet of you, Marinette,” Nino held his hand to his chest, “I’m genuinely touched.”

“I can’t tell if he’s genuinely touched or not,” Adrien murmured to Kagami. She shrugged at him, either also unsure, or uncaring.

“Yeah, yeah,” Marinette mumbled, pulling out a chair for herself. Kagami took the seat next to her. “Like you wouldn’t say the same for me.”

“What would you say about me?” Adrien questioned, sitting across from her. Nino sat next to him and across from Kagami.

“I’d say you were annoying as hell, and that you’d probably like the Italian sub.”

Adrien’s face crumpled like a kicked puppy. Nino mentally shook his head in pity. The guy had it bad. Nino honestly wasn’t sure what he saw in Marinette, but Nino probably wasn’t the right person to have an opinion about this. He’d known Marinette for years, and she was more like a sister than an actual girl to him at this point. She might have been smoking hot and a total catch, but he just wouldn’t be able to see it past all his memories of her tattling on him and pushing him in mud puddles until he cried.

“You like her,” Kagami spoke to Adrien, clearly surprised. Nino laughed at the distressed look on his buddy’s face. Marinette rolled her eyes.

“He’s just a friend, Kagami, he doesn’t like me.”

Adrien cleared his throat, clearly mortified, and his neck turned red. Nino reached over and patted his back in a totally bro-friendly way.

“You’re wasting your time,” Kagami stated, reading through the menu. “She already likes someone, and he’s more than a bit cooler than you.”

A waiter came to take their orders, but Nino barely paid him any attention. His dude looked heartbroken, and Nino wouldn’t let him suffer alone to stutter over his choice on the menu.

“And you, sir?” The waiter asked. Nino pointed at a random spot on the menu.

“I want that. Oh, and orange juice.” The waiter moved onto Kagami, and Nino leaned closer to Adrien. “You ok, Dude?”

“I didn’t know she liked someone,” he sounded completely dejected. That type of expression should never be on such an angelic face. “Do you know who it is?”

“I’m not sure, but apparently he’s cooler than you.” Nino winced and quickly backtracked. “Sorry, sorry. We don’t know that for sure--Kagami could be wrong, you know?”

“I’m not wrong,”

Kagami must have had super hearing. Or maybe Nino wasn’t as good at whispering as he thought.

“Why does this always happen when I go out to lunch with you and new people?” Marinette demanded. “It wasn’t funny the first time, and it’s not funny now.” She turned to the guys. “Would you guys sit up. Your little testosterone huddle is weirding me out.”

“If you don’t want me to say, why don’t you tell them yourself?” Kagami invited.

“Why should I? I don’t want to say, and they’re not interested.”

“I’m interested,” Nino piped up. Marinette glared at him, but he shrugged happily back.

“Unless you’re ashamed of it?” Kagami challenged. “Or you don’t actually like him?” There was a pause, and Nino couldn’t think back to a time the atmosphere had ever been this tense when a girl asked another girl who she liked. Marinette clenched her teeth, but eventually looked to Nino.

“Cat Noir.” She raised her chin in the air and stared him down, daring him to laugh at her. He bit back a smile. All that heavy tension...for a celebrity crush?

“The superhero?” Adrien questioned from next to him. Marinette watched the waiter bring drinks to their table. She thanked him, and Nino knew she was genuine, but she somehow made it sound like she was mad at the poor guy. The waiter practically ran back to the kitchen.

“Yeah. I like him. So?”

“Nothing,” Adrien smiled wide. “What exactly do you like about him?” Well, he got over her fast. Or maybe he just really liked talking about superheroes.

“What is that?” Kagami looked at Nino’s drink with a disgusted look on her face.

“Um, orange juice,” Nino said. “Have you never heard of it before?”

“I like how nice he is, and how patient.” Marinette said stiffly. “What do you think about the mayor’s plan to start construction outside the city for the people who have lost their homes?”

“Is that it?” Adrien asked, totally ignoring Marinette’s question.

“No, it’s hundreds of grams of sugar, artificial flavoring, and possible carcinogens squeezed into a liquid,” Kagami looked nauseous as he took a sip. He smacked his lips, satisfied.

“Incorrect. It’s orange juice. My favorite drink.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Kagami took a sip of her own drink. “Water is supreme. It is the base of everything, and can adapt any flavor. It goes with every type of food but desert. You would die without water, but you could easily survive without orange juice.”

“Woah, that was really deep,” Nino praised.

“You like milkshakes,” Marinette pointed out. “You like milkshakes even more than water.”

“No, you like milkshakes more than water. And for some reason you keep thinking I do, too."

“Do you think he’s cute?” Adrien really would not let the Cat Noir thing go. Marinette turned to him, agitated

“Yeah, so? He is. It’s a fact.”

“Yeah,” Adrien sounded smug. “I’ve noticed there’s more pictures of him on the Ladyblog. You’re the one who asked Alya to include him more, right?”

“Water is fine, but orange juice is great. Yeah, you could survive without orange juice,” Nino took another long sip. “But could you live without it?” He offered her a sip from his glass, and she looked at it disdainfully. He shrugged. More for him.

“You log onto the Ladyblog?” Marinette asked, reigning in her temper. “Do you like the banner on top? I designed that.”

“It’s cool,” Adrien agreed. “I like how the right half symbolizes Ladybug and the left half symbolizes Cat Noir. Did you like him when you designed the banner?”

“Does that matter?” Marinette fumed. “Why the heck do you care so much about this anyway? Do you want me to ask about who you like? Well, fine--who do you like?”

“I could easily live without it. It’s not good for you,” Kagami said, clearly as used to Marinette’s explosive temper as Nino was. Adrien chuckled next to them. It looked like Adrien wasn’t intimidated by her fury either.

“Quit laughing! You’re the one who wanted me to ask!”

The waiter trudged to their table, handed everyone their food and fled.

“You were right,” Adrien said to Marinette. “I do like the Italian sub.”

“Who cares?” Nino asked. “It tastes great, and that’s why I order it. Most things you like aren’t great for you, or necessary, but you go for them anyway. If I only did what I needed to to survive, I would sit in a cardboard box and drink water and eat oatmeal every day.”

“You need exercise to survive and thrive,” Kagami corrected him. “You would waste away if you simply sat all day.”

“I’m not telling,” Adrien hummed. “But I’ll tell you if you guess right.”

“I’m not guessing,” Marinette growled, crossing her arms. “Because I don’t care.”

“Fine, I could stand every few hours,” Nino allowed. “But that would be no fun. There would be no friends, no concerts, no music.” He lifted his glass. “No orange juice.”

“Alright, alright,” Adrien sat back, not wanting to rile Marinette up too much. “I think the mayor’s idea is great. Even if Ladybug and Cat Noir defeat the Makara and Akuma, the city is destroyed and tainted with magic--it’ll be impossible to repopulate those areas, and expanding the city outwards seems like the only logical next step right now.”

“But what is the use of orange juice and music if it does nothing for you?” Kagami questioned archly. Nino gaped at her.

“What’s the point of music?”

“Uh-oh,” Marinette said from across the table. “Not the ‘point of music’ speech.”

“Kagami doesn't know the beast she awoke,” Adrien agreed. They both watched as Nino internally struggled .

Nino couldn’t put into words just how much music meant to him. The freedom of expression, the creativity and ability to show what he was feeling without having to commit and put to words what he was thinking--it had gotten him through years of his parents disapproval and dismissal. It had helped him find himself, and had been the first way he’d been able to connect with anyone. Hearing other artists put into their lyrics exactly how Nino was feeling kept him from feeling totally isolated from everyone and everything. In a sense, music was what kept him alive for a few years, and now, music was his life.

“Music is like, everything!” He exploded. “It’s the single thing which can connect everyone! It’s been passed down from ancient times to now, it’s been found in like, every single culture ever! There’s a reason all forms of humanity have discovered and perfected their own style of music. There’s culture in it, a way to learn about how someone was feeling. It’s been scientifically proven that music can physically affect the way you feel. Slow tempo, slow heartbeat; fast tempo, fast heartbeat. That’s just the basics of it. Music lasts in the memory a lot longer than anything else. Show an old person a song from when they were a kid, they’ll remember the song. Show them some dumb newspaper article, they probably won’t know what you’re talking about. Music is a way to document the present, to hope for the future, to show others exactly how you’re feeling, and get them to feel that same way, even if it’s just for a few minutes. And you’re trying to tell me it’s unnecessary?”

“I suppose I never thought of it like that,” Kagami mused.

“You can enjoy things and also have them be necessary for life,” Nino said. “A fulfilling life doesn’t need to be full of just work. There has to be enjoyment in it for it to be balanced.”

Kagami hummed as she stirred her pasta.

“This has been fun, I guess,” Marinette stood up. “But I need to leave. My parents need me to work a shift at the bakery.”

“I’ll go with you!” Adrien said. “I’ll get Gorilla to pick me up from your bakery. I need to go home and prepare for my fencing class anyway.”

“You fence?” Kagami asked. Adrien nodded and told her his fencing studio. Kagami blinked. “That’s where I fence,” she said. “How have I never seen you there before?”

“I used to go on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays,” Adrien said. “Now I’m going on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. It was a scheduling thing.”

“I will be seeing you on Tuesdays then, it seems.”

“So you kids are off and leaving us with the bill?” Nino asked Marinette. She slammed a few euros on the table. “Jeez, no need to be so rough,” Nino laughed. She smiled a little and gave him and Kagami good-bye hugs. Adrien waved and left, too, following after her like a love-struck puppy. Dude had it bad.

“You fence?” He asked Kagami. She nodded, placing her money on the table and standing. He joined her, strolling down the street with her.

“I have since I was young. My mother insisted I learn.”

“You any good?”

“I am better than everyone I have seen in the studio, and I assume I am better than Adrien as well.” Kagami said. If anyone else had said that, Nino would assume they were an arrogant prick. With Kagami, though, it just sounded like a fact. “Everyone in my family has been a master fencer, and my mother requires the same of me.”

“Woah, ‘requires?’” Nino asked. “Sounds harsh.”

Kagami nodded. “It is, but I understand. She expects the best, and being harsh is the fastest way to reach perfection.”

“I can kind of see how you and Marinette get along,” Nino said. “You guys are both so blunt, but you’re so formal and polite about it, it’s hard to tell if you actually mean what you say.”

Kagami smiled. “Marinette is interesting, to say the least, and she’s one of my best friends. Sometimes I wish I could be more like her--free to pursue my own passions. But that will not be tolerated in my family.”

“That seems kind of pointless,” Nino mused. “To be so good at something, but not even like doing it.”

“It might seem pointless to you,” Kagami’s voice hardened. “But it’s my life. You don’t need to understand.”

“Sorry,” Nino backtracked. “I didn’t mean to offend or anything.”

Kagami nodded once, and her anger seemed to disappear. They kept walking, but the silence grated on Nino. He wanted to talk more, to get to know her better.

“Want to hear my music?” He asked. She looked at him.

“Which artists do you listen to?” She asked. “I might have heard of them.”

Nino shook his head. “No, I mean…” He was suddenly nervous, holding his phone, full of his music, and his feelings from the past couple of years. “This is my music. I made it. Do you want to listen?”

Kagami nodded again, just once. Nino handed her a headphone, and he played his first song. He jammed to the beat, and he enjoyed the song, like always, but he was also nervous. He knew people listened to his songs, but he’d never seen anyone react to his work. Nino suddenly felt a new appreciation for Marinette. She, too, was a creator. She designed her clothes, made them, and then wore them. She saw reactions to her work all day, every day. He wondered how she did it. He watched Kagami’s face closely.

“It’s very good,” she said. “Do you have more?”

They listened to his music the entire way to her fencing studio.

Chapter Text

Kagami’s mother drilled her continuously on fencing techniques. It didn’t matter if Kagami had a cold, or if she had just come back from school, or a fencing lesson. Sometimes it didn’t even matter that her father was there to pick her up for his days with her. Every day, for hours, Kagami’s mother forced her daughter to hold the saber and hone her skills. She’d make Kagami work on basics, like stance, and walking back and forth, or lunging, parrying, and reposting. Sometimes she’d force Kagami to have endless matches with other fencing students. If Kagami hesitated or allowed a single instance of doubt as to who the winner would be, she would be punished with dozens of more drills. This had been going on for years.

Kagami had quickly grown to hate fencing. She had also quickly understood that her opinion didn’t matter.

Her mother’s obsession with perfection had been the end of her relationship with her daughter, and the destruction of her marriage. Her mother didn’t seem to care, though. All that mattered in her mind was that Kagami live up to the legacy of her family. The Tsurugis demanded perfection, and would accept nothing less. If Kagami didn’t prove herself to be on par with her grandfather, neither she nor her mother would get the Tsurugi inheritance. To her mother, money was everything. Passions, desires, wishes all came second.

Kagami briefly thought back to Nino. He was so unlike anyone she’d met before. His smile had easily stretched across his face from the moment she’d met him, showing him his slightly crooked front teeth. His brown eyes held nothing back, and he seemed to say exactly what was in his heart. He’d said he admired her for her bluntness, but she herself admired his ability to show all his emotions, to embrace them and rejoice in them. Nino was a boy who lived every day for the pleasure of living, and it showed. Kagami used to dream of a life like that. Now, she knew that kind of life was never to be hers.

“This is pathetic,” Kagami’s mother said. “Go inside. I can’t bear to look at you right now.” Typical. That was usually how her mother ended their training sessions. Kagami gladly packed up her fencing equipment and walked to her room. Like everything else in her life, Kagami’s room was organized and cleaned by her mother on a daily basis. She opened the closet doors, pulled out a mother-approved casual outfit and changed out of her fencing gear. Then, she left the house. She hopped onto her bicycle and wandered through the streets. She had forty euros in her pockets, and an afternoon free. What could she do with herself?

A familiar building appeared in front of her. It was slightly tilted now, since the Makara continuously shook the Parisian streets, but it was still standing. And it was glorious. The arcade. Kagami locked her bike to a bicycle rack outside the building and entered, looking forward to a few hours of mindless fun.

Machines of all sort lined the perimeter of the building, and rows of games lined the inside. Some were new, some were old, and some were out of order. Most of them flashed with bright yellow or red lights. All the sound effects from the different games clashed in the air, creating a blanket of comforting white noise in the air. The carpet was dirty, and some of the lights on the ceiling flickered. It smelled of sweaty feet and musty plastic, but Kagami couldn’t get enough of the scent. She practically skipped to the front counter, money in hand.

After exchanging her money for tickets, she wandered the arcade, searching for her favorite game: Donkey Kong. It was old, sure, but it was a classic, and it was in every arcade she’d ever been to. Donkey Kong was the first game she and her dad had played when he’d taken her to her first arcade. It had a special place in her heart, and she never grew tired of it.

She walked through the rows of arcade machines, looking for that iconic gorilla, when she heard a familiar voice. Two familiar voices, actually. She looked around, and there they were: Marinette and Nino. They were competing against each other at Dance Dance Revolution. Marinette was winning. Typical.

The round only lasted a few more seconds, and Nino started demanding a rematch, convinced Marinette had cheated, when he caught sight of her.

“Hey, isn’t that Kagami?” he asked Marinette. He didn’t wait for her response and answered his own question: “Yeah, that’s her!” He waved her over, and Kagami saw no reason to ignore him. His viewpoint on freedom and passion and not doing something if it made you unhappy hurt her deeply, but that was her own problem. He was nice, and he was Marinette’s friend. She couldn’t justify being rude to him.

“Hello,” she greeted. Marinette grinned at her.

“Guess who just won the fifth match of DDR in a row?” she boasted. “That’s right. Not Nino.”

“I swear, you cheated that last time,” Nino argued. “You started before I was ready.” Kagami shook his head.

“The poor soul is still in denial,” she said, and Marinette snorted in amusement. Kagami turned to Nino. “You can’t beat Marinette at any of the games in here. I guarantee it.”

“Oh yeah?” Nino’s eyes lit with that spark of a challenge. “Wanna bet?”

“Definitely,” Kagami nodded.

“I’m in, too. I’m always in the need for more money.”

“She’s already beat you at DDR five times,” Kagami noted. “Let’s move on to another game.”

“She cheated that last time!”

“Shut up, I don’t cheat, and you know that!”

“Fine. She beat you four times. Let’s move on to another game.”

They circled the arcade. Nino insisted on playing each game twice. Correction, he insisted on losing each game twice. He said it was no fun only going up against Marinette, and had convinced Kagami to play against him, too, even on games she didn’t like. It was surprising that she was able to beat him. She’d only ever been to an arcade with her father or Marinette, both of whom were amazing video game players. She’d never been able to win before. With Nino, however, she was finding it impossible to lose.

“You suck!” Marinette laughed, playfully shoving Nino to the side. He almost fell to the ground. “I can’t believe I get to beat you, and then get money for it.”

“Jeez, no need to be such a sore winner,” Nino grumbled, rubbing his now sore arm. “Don’t you have a shift at the bakery or something?”

The victorious smile fell off Marinette’s face. “Oh, shit. What time is it?”

“Don’t swear, Marinette. There are children present.”

“Time for your shift at the bakery. Now run along, little baker girl. I’ve got a cooler, nicer girl to hang out with.”

“You’re an asshole,” Marinette frowned at him, but Nino and Kagami both knew she didn’t mean it. Marinette left, and Nino pointed to the next game. They continued to move through the arcade. Nino managed to snag a couple of wins, but for the most part, Kagami was the victor in their competitions. Finally, they came across her holy grail game: Donkey Kong. Oh, if Nino thought she’d been unbeatable before, he was sorely mistaken. As soon as they entered the tokens into the slot, he would see what a true unsurpassable being looked like. They moved towards the game, but Kagami’s phone vibrated.

Her heart sank past her stomach, past her feet, ten feet under the ground. She’d been gone for hours. Couldn’t her mother have waited a few minutes longer before caring about where she’d gone? Kagami picked up the phone.

“Hello, Mother.”

“Where do you think you are?” her mother’s stiff voice crackled through the phone. “You’re just like your father, always slacking off. Do you think I went through nine months of discomfort, and twenty hours of labor to have a lazy daughter?”

“No, Mother.”

“No, I didn’t! I expect you to be here, ready to train, and instead, you’re off doing who-knows what for God-knows-why. Let me ask you a question, Kagami: is what you’re doing helping your future? Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, does it help either you or I in any way?”

“No, Mother.”

“How is it possible that I’ve raised such an ungrateful, selfish child? Apologize immediately and return home at once!”

“I apologize, Mother. I will return home momentarily.”

“I take it, that was your mom?” Nino asked. Kagami wished he had harsher eyes, or a more grating voice. She wished he wore crisply ironed clothes and spoke more formally. But no. He was a boy of medium height who had slightly longer than acceptable curly brown hair. All his clothes were slightly too baggy and worn so often that the color was fading. His jawline was soft, and his brown eyes were even softer. When he spoke, she felt like she could tell him anything, and he wouldn’t judge her at all for it, the complete opposite of her mother. It would be so much easier to brush him off and ignore him if he wasn’t so...genuine.

“She is upset that I am not at home, training.”

“You turned into a bit of a robot, there,” Nino tried smiling at her, but it felt like all her happiness for the week had been sucked away with that one phone call. How was it that her mother had such power? One moment Kagami had been laughing and smiling widely, largely influenced by the boy next to her. The next moment, all traces of those emotions and reactions were gone. Instead, she felt an intense tension and anger. Silence and exercise usually helped ease these emotions for her, but Nino wouldn’t let her leave. He kept speaking, and she couldn’t understand how he didn’t see she needed to leave--right now.

“I am needed at home. My mother wishes to drill me in fencing techniques again. She is quite upset she has to wait for me to return home.”

“That’s stupid,” Nino mumbled, moving out of the way for a couple of tweens to get to the game he was blocking. “Why don’t you just tell her you don’t want to fence anymore? You obviously hate it.”

“Why do you insist on speaking on matters which don’t concern you?” Kagami stared at him. It was suddenly becoming clear why Marinette was in a perpetually bad mood. With friends as aggravating as this, no wonder. “I simply need to be the best. There is no requirement for enjoyment. Look at you, for example. I’ve been listening to your music and reading the comments people have left on the songs. You clearly are passionate about music, and you create songs you love. Yet, no one has a nice word to say other than your friend Adrien. I was born to be a winner. I can’t follow a passion and fail at it, like you.”

Something in Kagami broke as the words left her mouth. Her brain was spewing the words out, one after another. She kept telling herself to believe them, to think like her mother, to leave and cut off all ties with Nino, and possibly Marinette. Being around such passionate people constantly reminded her of what she wanted, and what she couldn’t have.

“Hey,” Nino stepped back. Her heart broke at the unguarded betrayed expression on his face. She knew what she’d said, and she’d known as she was saying it exactly how it would affect him. She no longer had a right to feel guilty, or remorseful. Nino swallowed. “Why the heck would you say that? You know music is a sensitive topic for me--I told you everything. Why would you bring it up like that?” His eyes were cast down, and a few tween boys laughed at him for having tears in his eyes. Kagami felt a heat in her ears and behind her eyes. Those stupid boys didn’t know anything. Nino was a good guy, and she had hurt him, deeply. Showing emotion wasn’t a weakness, it was a strength. Those who hid behind harsh words and a blank face, like her, were weak. Frustration mounted inside of her, and she longed to just let it all out. How could she? That was not who she was raised to be.

“I’m speaking where my opinion isn’t wanted.” Kagami said. It was too late to apologize. She needed to burn the bridge completely. “Like you do every time you see me. I don’t like it, and now you know how it feels.”

“I’m sorry,” Nino’s voice cracked. “I didn’t mean to hurt you or anything, but it sure seemed like you were trying to hurt me. And congratulations--you succeeded.”

The ground shook, and Kagami looked at Nino, shocked. A siren rang through the Parisian streets. This was getting ridiculous. The last Makara attack had been ten days ago. Kagami knew she had to get to a bunker, and she should probably call her mother to see if she was safe, too.

“Come on!” Nino pulled her out into the street. People were already spewing out of buildings, running to Bunker 12, the closest bunker to them. Nino kept his hand tight around hers, and she helped him push through the crowd. Her phone rang again, and Kagami hastily answered and held it to her ear.

“Where are you?” her mother’s voice gnashed through the phone.

“Mother, there has been a Makara attack!” Kagami grunted as a man ran into her. Nino pulled her to the side and kept her moving through the street. There, just a few hundred yards away. The bunker. “Did you hear the sirens? You must get to safety.”

“Did I ask about the Makara attack? No! Where are you? You still need to train!”

“You are being completely unreasonable, Mother!”

“It doesn’t matter!” her mother yelled through the phone. “If you’re not the best, nothing matters!”

People started screaming around her, and Nino snatched his hand away from her, like she had suddenly burst into flames. There were shouts about a butterfly, and an Akuma, but Kagami couldn’t focus on anything but the boiling anger and frustration surging through her.

“Would you help me protect Paris?” a silky smooth voice purred in her ear. Kagami tilted her head to the side. The man’s voice was so pleasant, like satin. She could just imagine the type of person who sounded like that. He would be kind, and protective, and he would let her have all the freedom she could want.

“Will you help me be free?” Kagami asked hopefully.

“I’ll help you with whatever you want,” the voice wrapped around her like a ribbon. It was cool on her skin, but it itched. Her face warmed.

“How?” she questioned him. “Do you know what I want?”

“I am Hawkmoth,” the man replied, and the ribbons tightened around her ever so much. “I know all.”

“Do you promise?”

“I will do everything in my power to help you free yourself, but you must fulfill your end of the bargain first. Protect Paris, and I will help you fight for your freedom.”

“It’s a deal.”

Nino had heard about Akumas, and the victims. He’d even seen a couple of rad and high-quality videos of Ladybug purifying some Akumas at the hospital. He’s never thought about the process of being Akumatized. He hadn’t seen many people online think about it either. Everyone knew the Akuma were people underneath all their fur, the wings, and the red glow around their eyes. It hit differently when you actually saw a person--a person you knew--slowly morph into one of them.

Nino had been just inches from Kagami when the butterfly landed on her jacket and transformed her. He’d seen the fur, or hair, or whatever, sprout out of every visible part of Kagami’s skin. He’d seen and heard the wings sprout from her back. He’d seen the red haze appear around her eyes, and heard her half of the conversation.

He trembled all over now, stuck in a jam-packed bunker with hundreds of other people he didn’t know. The bunkers all had names. Originally, the city decided to name them after letters because they weren’t planning on making too many. This was back in the early days of the Makara and Akuma. Around six months after the attacks started, the citizens realized twenty-six bunkers wouldn’t be sufficient for a city of more than a million inhabitants, especially since each bunker couldn’t even hold a thousand people. So, after a certain point, the city started naming the bunkers numbers rather than letters. After all, letters were finite, but numbers had no definite end. That was why there were only letters up to L bunkers, but around eighty-seven bunkers scattered throughout the city.

The letter bunkers weren’t much different from the number bunkers. They were built for use, not comfort. Around the perimeter of each bunker were chairs or old couches, reserved for the elderly, handicapped, or children. After a particularly long Makara attack and more than one uncomfortable accident, a few changing stations and honey buckets were installed in each bunker. A couple million teenagers, young adults, and parents of young children petitioned to the city, and soon each bunker was equipped with free wi-fi. Other than that, they were completely barren. A few of them had scented candles or air fresheners, but the majority of the bunkers smelled horrible. None of them had lighting, so people relied on their electronic devices for light for the Makara attacks. In all, they were sparse and dreary environments for horrifying events.

A woman bumped into him and he almost dropped his phone on the ground. That would have been a disaster. Hundreds of people had lost their phones during Makara attacks, and only one man had recovered his phone. He hadn’t even lost it in a bunker--apparently Ladybug had taken his phone, for whatever reason, and she’d ensured the police gave it back to him. No one else had been so lucky.

Nino’s fingers trembled as he was shoved back in the bunker, dozens of new people desperate to make it to safety. He opened up the Ladyblog and typed up everything he’d seen, everything he’d heard. He kept Kagami’s name out of it, though. He was angry at her, sure, but he wouldn’t post her name on a public website without her ok. He posted his comment on the Ladyblog forum, and shut his phone off. He knew from experience that it was easier to meditate and wait than stay on his phone for the duration of the attack and curse the hundreds of Parisians around him for the impossibly slow signal. It was easier to be content than purposefully put himself in situations which would make him angry. So, Nino stood, and he waited for the attack to end.

Kagami flew through the air, not totally sure what was going on around her. The colors of the world warped from what they usually were, and she didn’t feel like she had complete control over her body. A slippery smooth ribbon wrapped around each of her limbs. They hadn’t done anything to hinder her movements yet, but she had a feeling that if Hawkmoth wanted to, he could stop her from doing something, or make her do what he wanted.

She trusted he wouldn’t. He’d promised her freedom. His voice had been so calm, so reassuring, there was no way he’d lie to her. She would protect Paris by defeating the Makara, and then he would set her free.

From her hands erupted organic fencing sabers. For once, she was incredibly glad to have a decade of fencing experience under her belt. She battled the Makara, stabbing it, slashing at it, slowing it down. Fencing had always been a symbol of pressure and suppression. Now, it would be an indication of her independence.

Ladybug flew past her, using her yo-yo like a swing, and Cat Noir followed behind. Cat Noir moved towards the Makara’s head while Ladybug stayed low to the ground, using the string of her yo-yo to trip the Makara and send it to the ground. Cat Noir extended his staff into the Makara’s eye.

For whatever reason, Kagami couldn’t see the Makara. She knew, vaguely, that it was present, but something was stopping her from actually seeing what it looked like, or where exactly it ended or began. Now, though, that didn’t matter. It was destroyed, and Hawkmoth would give her freedom.

The ribbons tightened around her limbs. Ladybug threw her yo-yo at her. Kagami narrowed her eyes. Oh, no--never again. She swatted the magical toy aside with her saber. She would never allow herself to be confined again. Hawkmoth would help her--she would be free.

The reassuring voice was silent in her mind. Ladybug ran up to her and sweeped a leg under Kagami’s feet. If Kagami didn’t have basic training in martial arts, she might have fallen on her back. As it was, she jumped over Ladybug’s attack and lunged at her. Cat Noir’s baton came out of nowhere, parrying her thrust. Kagami narrowed her eyes. A fellow fencer? Too bad for him, she was better.

Her muscles moved, and she lunged. Cat Noir parried and shot back at her--repost. She twirled away and kicked at him. Screw the rules, she now had the freedom to do whatever she wanted. Ladybug grabbed her leg and flipped her on the ground. Kagami growled. It was so annoying--they had two people, and one of them seemed to know Northern Shaolin kung fu, while the other knew fencing. How was this possible?

She engaged with Cat Noir again, but the ribbons pulled, and for a moment she couldn’t move. A moment was all Ladybug needed. The yo-yo wrapped around her, and Kagami was, once again, trapped. She struggled and screamed and tried to free herself. She wailed for Hawkmoth to help her. He’d promised.

He'd lied.

She kept trying to remind him of his promise, of what he’d said to her. She called for him.

Please, please don’t leave. Help me. He didn’t reply. He was gone.

Cat Noir destroyed her jacket, and Ladybug purified the butterfly. Kagami curled up in a ball on the ground, rapidly forgetting about the man’s voice. All she felt was a gaping sense of loss, of betrayal. She thought back to the moments before the Makara attack. Nino had been there. They’d been arguing. He’s looked at her with such hurt on his face. The feelings expressed through his eyes perfectly matched what she felt right then. It didn’t matter if she was allowed his forgiveness or not. She had to apologize.

Ladybug walked over to her and covered her with a blanket. Kagami held it tightly to her. She hadn’t realized she was shivering until Ladybug wrapped her arms around Kagami’s shoulder and rubbed her arms to try and warm her. Cat Noir sat on her other side. The chill was rapidly leaving her, and now she was just tired. She wanted to sleep.

“Do you remember a man speaking to you before you were transformed?”

“A man?” Kagami had no idea what Cat Noir was talking about. The only people she remembered before her transformation were Marinette and Nino. Neither of them really qualified as men, though Marinette came close. She was pretty sure that’s not what Cat Noir wanted to hear. Kagami looked at Ladybug, hoping to get some sort of clue, or figure out what they wanted from her.

“You don’t remember,” Ladybug sighed in disappointment. “That’s alright. Are you ok? While you were an Akuma, you kept screaming. Are you in pain?”

“Are you sure you don’t remember anything about the man?” Cat Noir tried again. “He’s known as Hawkmoth. Does that ring any bells?”

Freedom… The promise had been fleeting, and now it was gone forever. Kagami should have known better than to trust such sweet, tempting promises. Freedom didn’t exist for her. It never would. She curled in Ladybug’s arms and cried.

Nino had invited Kagami over to his house. She knew she should have refused him, but she simply didn’t want to. Something in her wanted to see his face again. Others might not think he was handsome, what with his soft jawline, round nose, and slightly uneven eyebrows, but Kagami loved looking at him. When she saw his face, she knew he would be honest with her. More than that, when she saw his face, she knew she was with someone who cared for her, who would be kind to her. After a lifetime of indifference, his warmth and carefree humor was addicting. She couldn’t get enough. He reminded her of a big teddy bear, and she never wanted to let go of him.

So, she found herself standing in front of his house, and rang his doorbell. Nino himself didn’t answer the door. It was a pretty young girl, probably around thirteen or fourteen years old.

“Hello,” Kagami greeted. “Nino invited me. Would you tell him Kagami’s here?”

“Wow, listening to you is like hearing someone talk like an old timey journal or something,” the girl said. “I feel sophisticated just listening to you.”

“Thank you,” Kagami nodded. “Would you tell Nino Kagami’s here to see him?”

“My name is Helene,” the girl had very selective hearing, as it turned out. “Nino’s my brother. He’s so lame, I can’t believe he knows someone as cool and collected as you.”

“He’s not very lame,” Kagami defended. “He invited me over. Would you tell him I’m here to see him? My name is Kagami.”

“You didn’t say it was very nice to meet me,” Helene seemed disappointed. Kagami was not raised to disappoint.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Helene.”

“Helene!” Nino’s voice rounded a corner of the house. “Why’d you answer the door, you brat? I told you my friend was coming and I’d get the door.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to listen to you,” Helene said like that was a perfectly justifiable reason to not listen to her older brother.

“Understandable,” Nino nodded. Apparently that was a totally justifiable reason not to listen to her older brother. If this was the environment Nino lived in, no wonder he kept pushing her to just say she didn’t like fencing and move on from it. He had no idea what kind of life she lived. Kagami briefly imagined what it would be like to speak to her mother the way Nino and Helene spoke to each other. Her head would likely explode, firstly. Then she’d come back as a ghost and never let Kagami hear the end of how inappropriate her attitude was.

Nino turned to her, smiling, and invited her in. He shooed Helene away. The girl must have found that suggestion agreeable, because she did just as he asked. Nino led Kagami through his house. Well, it was more of an apartment. It was small, and crumpled and full of walls. Somehow it felt cozy without being suffocating.

The kitchen was small. It really only consisted of a stove, a microwave, and a small refrigerator. Most of the space was taken up by a counter top which the family seemed to use as a dining table. She sat on one side of it and watched as Nino pulled a couple of glasses out of a small cupboard near the ceiling. He wasn’t very tall, but he could reach it with minimal effort. Kagami would not have been able to get any of the glasses in this house.

“I’m really happy you actually came by,” Nino said. “I wasn’t sure you would.” He closed the cupboard and faced her, two empty glasses in his hands.

“I had to,” Kagami said. “I have something to say to you.”

“My music is off limits,” Nino said, averting his gaze and studying the glasses in his hands. Kagami smiled at him sadly.

“I need to apologize,” she said. “I shouldn’t have said any of the things I said. I didn’t even believe half of the words coming out of my mouth. I can’t explain why I said what I said, or why I was so harsh, but I need to apologize, and I understand if you can’t forgive me.”

Nino was silent for a moment. “Why would you think I wouldn’t forgive you?” He turned and opened the fridge. “Do you want some orange--” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “Sorry, I forgot. No orange juice, no milkshakes, just water for you.”

“Actually,” Kagami cleared her throat. “I would like to try your orange juice. If that is alright.”

Nino grinned widely at her. Just seeing the jubilant expression on his face made it worth swallowing her pride to ask for the devil juice. Nino filled up the glasses, set one in front of her, and took the seat opposite her.

“And as to why I would think you wouldn't forgive me--give me one reason why you should forgive me.”

“You're not exactly your best advocate, are you?” Nino took a sip of his juice. “I'd forgive you because you were honest about it, and you felt bad. So, I forgive you.”

“That’s it?” Kagami questioned. Nino shrugged.

“Yeah. It’s not a spell, Kagami, the world isn’t going to start spinning the opposite direction or something if I forgive you.”

“I know that,” She didn’t snap at him. Kagami had more control than to snap at a boy who was currently forgiving her for her earlier cruel words. “I’m just surprised you would believe me so quickly.”

“I have a feeling you wouldn’t lie.” Nino gestured for her to try the orange juice. She braced herself and took a sip. It was cool and sweet, but there was a tangy aftertaste. Orange juice was surprisingly delicious. She didn’t like it very much in the cold weather, but she imagined it would be absolutely delicious in the hot summer months.

“It’s good.”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” Nino laughed slightly. “It’s my favorite after all. I have good taste.”

Kagami hummed again and studied the doors of the refrigerator behind Nino’s head. She could think of a few areas where his taste could be improved. Friends, for one. She was an awful friend, yet he had invited her over. Girlfriends, for another. She wasn’t sure if he had one, but she knew he hadn’t asked her. She would be a great girlfriend. If he truly had good taste, he should ask her to go out with him.

“What?” Nino demanded. “I do!”

“I didn’t say anything,” Kagami said. Nino made a face at her, but didn’t deign to respond. They sat in silence for a moment, sipping their own glasses of orange juice.

“I’ve been thinking about the other day a lot,” Nino said. “I kept trying to think about what triggered you into getting possessed by the butterfly. I couldn’t figure it out until I remembered what happened before we were in the streets. We were at the arcade, and your mom called. Then I stuck my head in like an idiot and made the whole situation worse.”

“That’s not true,” Kagami said. “You saw that I was unhappy. You were just trying to get me to stick up for myself. The only idiot was me.”

“Let me finish, would you?” Kagami nodded and Nino continued. “I think you were overwhelmed. And if you already knew that and have your own coping mechanism, I’m sorry. I just figured I’d be a bad friend if I didn’t at least try to help you out a little.”

There he went again with that awful word. Friend. Disgusting. 

“I don’t know anything,” Kagami asserted. “Tell me what you had in mind.”

“You were getting frustrated by all the constraints and pressure your mom places on you. Next time you feel that tension rising up in you, try to chill. Talk to a friend. You’ve got Marinette, and you’ve definitely got me, or you could text your other friends. You could listen to music. Remember what I said earlier? Slow beats slow your heart rate. If you listen to slower music, it would help you physically calm down. Heck, if you don’t want to do either of those, you could just sit down and think. Have a glass of water, or drink some orange juice, I don’t know. Just, take a moment to breathe.”

He offered her a vulnerable smile, and she returned it. Maybe she wouldn't push the relationship she wanted onto him right away. She had a feeling that before either of them needed a boyfriend or girlfriend, they could really use just a simple friend.

Chapter Text

After multiple trips to the Dupain Bakery, Adrien had finally figured out what Gorilla’s favorite desserts were: madeleines. He made sure to buy a few during his lunch break and kept them in his backpack for this exact moment.

“I’ll give you a dozen madeleines if you let me walk back home.”

“From the Dupain Bakery?”

“Of course.”

“Deal.”

Adrien shoved the bag at Gorilla, jumped out of the pedicab, and ran across the street. Alya had invited him to hang out with her and Marinette after school, and there was no way he was going to say no to that.

“There he is,” Alya nudged Marinette. “I told you he wouldn’t bail.”

“Hey!” Adrien couldn’t keep the excitement from his voice. He tried to talk to Marinette every day in class, but it was different when they were outside of school.

“We’re meeting Nino at a music shop before going to the museum,” Marinette told him as they started to walk. This was progress; she was initiating the conversation. This was good.

“Have you heard his new song?” he asked. Marinette looked at him like he was crazy.

“Of course. It was great.” She scoffed and shook her head. “I can’t believe so many people listen to his stuff just to hate on it, it’s so stupid.”

“Nino makes music?” Alya asked. The trio talked about Nino’s music until they walked into the music store. Along an entire side was a wall of hanging guitars, and there were rows of music filling the floor space. On the opposite side there was a grand piano, surrounded by keyboards and music books. Shoved in a dark corner, like an afterthought, was a counter with a bored employee. Adrien could have stayed there for hours. He didn’t like learning Chinese, and fencing was fine, but he’d always loved playing music. It was the one tutoring lesson he fully immersed himself in. This store perfectly captured the feeling he had when he played the piano. They stepped further in, and Adrien started scanning the store, looking for Nino.

Marinette froze. Adrien looked at her, confused. Alya, meanwhile, gasped and pointed to a boy who was browsing the guitars. Adrien didn’t swing that way, but he could see why Alya would have that kind of reaction. The guy was appealing, in that scruffy musician kind of way. He had long hair, dyed blue at the ends, and a hint of a tattoo peeking out from his collar. His clothes were stylishly careless, and his face was attractive. It kind of bothered him that Marinette had frozen at the sight of him, but he had no right to be jealous or anything.

“Look at that!” Alya whispered to Marinette.

“I’m looking, alright,” Marinette sounded less than pleased, and that relieved Adrien. He winced. He needed to chill; he couldn’t be jealous when Marinette so much as looked at a guy, especially when he wasn’t even dating her. That was just creepy.

“It’s magnificent.”

“He’s a guy, you know,” Adrien put in. “Not really an object.”

“He is to me,” Alya said. “Just like candy. Eye candy.”

“I’d stay away,” Marinette sounded weary. “His looks are the only appealing thing about him.”

“Do you know him?” Adrien asked. Marinette was going to answer, but Nino must have spotted them from somewhere in the store.

“Marinette!” he called out. The attractive musician whipped his head around and stared at Marinette. Nino started walking towards them. “And Alya and Adrien, of course,” Nino greeted. The musician was also making a bee-line towards them.

“Yeah, let’s greet each other outside,” Marinette pulled Alya by the arm towards the door. “We could move faster, you know!”

“Looks like some things never change,” a smooth, deep voice came from Adrien’s right. It was the musician. “Just as bossy as ever, Mari.”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “You know I hate it.”

“Calm down, Mari,” the guy chuckled. “Don’t I get a hello before you snap my head off?”

“No,” Marinette said. “We’re leaving. Come on, guys.”

“I’m Luka,” the guy introduced himself. Adrien couldn’t be rude.

“I’m Adrien.”

“Adrien,” Marinette looked at him. “Shut up. We’re not talking to him. We’re leaving.”

“Let the guy be polite.” Luka frowned. “Not everyone can be a grouch like you.”

“I’m not a grouch,” Marinette said. “I just hate talking to you.”

Luka put a hand over his heart. “That’s hurtful, and I assure you, the feeling is mutual.”

“Then why’d you come over here?” Alya asked.

“Hey, you said your name is Luka?” Nino asked. Luka nodded, and Nino turned to Marinette. She nodded.

“Yup, that’s him.”

“Ohh,” Nino looked like everything suddenly made sense. “Yeah, why don’t we leave?”

“Running away, Mari?”

“I don’t run away,” Marinette shot, planting her feet in the ground. Alya looked between Marinette and Luka, interested. Adrien felt the same way she looked--there was a story here, and he wanted to know it. He looked at Nino, but Nino wasn’t paying attention to him. “I just don’t want to see your face.” Marinette folded her arms in front of her. Luka copied her movement.

“Come on, don’t you want to catch up? We haven’t seen each other in so long.”

“I was kind of hoping it would be longer. You know, like forever.”

“Paul quit the band,” Luka said, not reacting to Marinette. “The band won’t make it without a keyboardist.”

“Then break up the band and quit talking to me.” Marinette frowned. Luka poked the wrinkles between her eyebrows, and her expression eased.

“Man, breaking up is your solution to everything, isn’t it?” Luka grinned down at her, and Marinette clenched her fists. Adrien knew that stance, and he really didn’t want her in a bad mood for the rest of the afternoon.

“I’m a piano player,” Adrien cut in. “I could sub in until you find a permanent replacement.”

“Would you even have the time for that?” Nino looked at him, surprised. Alya watched from Nino’s side. Adrien shrugged. He now had Gorilla’s weakness, he had all the freedom in the world.

“I’d make time.”

“That sounds great, actually. We have rehearsals every Wednesday and Saturday. Give me your number and I’ll text you details.”

Marinette glanced uneasily at Adrien. He was a good person, but too naive. There was no way he could know how uncomfortable and cringey Luka was. She didn’t want to just tell him what to do, but she really didn’t want him hanging out with Luka.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said as Adrien handed Luka his phone. Luka raised an eyebrow at her.

“Still holding grudges, Marinette?”

“I couldn’t care less about you,” Marinette said. She was surprised to find it was true. She’d been with Luka for seven months, and they’d broken up six months ago, a few weeks before she’d first transformed into Ladybug. It was weird to think, but a few months ago, seeing his face would have made her sad, and more than a bit uncomfortable. Seeing him now, though, after she’d found someone new--someone better--she couldn’t imagine what she’d ever seen in him. “But Adrien is my friend, and I don’t want him hanging around a snake like you.”

“Harsh,” Luka mumbled, typing his number into Adrien’s phone and handing it back to him. “Don’t let her get to you. She tends to judge people a lot, and she never lets it go. I’m a little cooler than she might give me credit.”

Marinette snorted. “You’re cool, sure. But you’re also irresponsible, and inconsiderate, and rude. The list goes on. Should I continue?”

Luka shook his head. “Man, I forgot about how upfront you are about how you feel. It’s a little refreshing.”

“We’ve got to go,” Alya hooked her arms through Marinette and Nino’s. “Bye, Luka. It was nice seeing you.”

“You mean, meeting him?” Adrien questioned as they started towards the doors. Alya shook her head.

“No. I didn’t like that part as much as I liked seeing him.” Marinette grinned at her.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

They exited the store and started walking towards Marinette’s house. Adrien asked,

“What was your deal with him? You seemed to really hate him.”

“I don’t hate him,”

“Anymore,” Nino mumbled.

“It kind of seemed like he was an ex,” Alya coaxed. “Am I right? What’s the story? Don’t leave me hanging, I’m so curious!”

“Yeah, we dated for a while, but I broke up with him six months ago, after I found out he was cheating on me. He still likes to act like he’s the victim. It’s stupid and he’s a jerk, but I don’t care anymore. Just be careful, Adrien. Don’t let him pressure you into being someone you don’t want to be.”

Adrien promised to be careful and the four of them continued walking to her house. She introduced Alya to UMS and Nino was finally able to beat someone under the Dupain’s roof. Her dad cried for him out of happiness and her mom brought out a celebratory cupcake. Nino had taken the cupcake but joked that it made his victory feel a bit pathetic. Alya kept showing her and Adrien new features on the Ladyblog, and Nino went to try and help Sabine bake a cake. It turned out lopsided, but it was delicious which was all that mattered. Adrien ate a small piece, sheepishly saying that he wasn't allowed to have processed sugars. Tom had wept for him and Sabine told him to ignore that rule while at the bakery.

Alya left first, being called last minute to babysit her younger siblings. Nino and Adrien went to her room where Marinette made both of them model her men’s clothes so she could adjust them. Adrien was, obviously, very good at it. Nino left soon after, saying he hated being treated like a doll. Adrien stayed for a good hour after Nino left, and majority of the time they played multiple video games and just got to know each other a bit better. He was a really fun, nice person, and it sickened Marinette that she’d painted him as a villain because of her quick (and false) judgement. She was disappointed when Gorilla entered the bakery and told Adrien that he had to leave.

“Marinette, your aunt is on the phone!”

“Coming, Mom!”

Marinette turned back to the fabric in front of her. She was still draping it over the dress form, figuring out the perfect silhouette for...whatever she was going to make. Most of the time, Marinette planned everything. She drew out her designs, bought the fabric according to the colored she’d sketched in, and measured everything twice before cutting. Then, there were times where instincts took over. She’d seen this cloth--a beautiful emerald green velvet--at a fabric store and knew that she just had to have it. She didn’t have a specific design in mind, or even a vague shape. She’d brought it home and immediately started draping it over her single dress form. She hadn’t found the shape yet, and she wasn’t even certain she wanted it to be a dress. It could anything, as long as she thought of it. That was the fun of it. The length of fabric had endless possibilities, as long as Marinette kept her mind open. The creativity and boundlessness of design was one of the things which kept it interesting for her.

“Marinette!” Her mom did not sound happy. Marinette sighed and pulled herself away from the fabric.

“Alright, alright, I said I was coming!”

She ran down the stairs and said hello into the phone. Her aunt chuckled,

“You don’t sound too happy to talk to me. Busy with a design?”

“Sort of.” Marinette explained her problem to her aunt. It was one of the things she loved most about Aunt Marie. Her parents were always encouraging and impressed by her work, but they didn’t understand the problems she sometimes faced. Aunt Marie did.

“Well, Cara, I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” Aunt Marie said. “You always do. That’s what makes you one of the most talented designers I know. Right behind me, of course.”

“Don’t be too sure about that,” Marinette grabbed the phone from her mom and headed back to her room, an idea forming in her mind. “I’ve gotten a lot better since you’ve last visited. I can’t wait to show you--when are you coming again?”

“I wish I could say, Cara,” Aunt Marie sighed. “I’m...in a bit of a tight spot right now. I likely won’t be able to see you for a long time.”

“If it’s a financial thing, I’ve got some money,” Marinette put the phone on speaker and pulled out her sketchbook, flipping to a blank page. Her pencil scratched on the paper, and her vision began to take physical shape in front of her.

“Don’t waste that, Dear, you earned it, I’m sure. Continue to design, cultivate your craft so that when I’m able to see your beautiful face, your clothes will be as fabulous as mine are.”

Marinette rolled her eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes, Marinette, it’s very unladylike.”

“Yeah, alright.”

They continued talking, Marinette’s responses getting shorter and shorter until Aunt Marie laughed and said she’d leave her alone to work on her design. Marinette’s dad was a little upset that she hadn’t brought the phone down so he could speak to his sister, but he got over it as soon as someone entered the bakery.

“Alix!” he greeted. “Are you going to be paying today, or leaving us to cover the bill?”

“Jeez, guilt trip a girl, why don’t you?” she grumbled, grabbing her cookie.

“Don’t act upset,” Marinette’s mom playfully scolded. “You know you’re family. That includes the teasing.”

“Come on,” Marinette led Alix up to her room. “I’ve got something for you.” Alix stepped into Marinette’s bedroom and immediately started cleaning. It was just a habit, and Marinette didn’t even bother telling her to knock it off anymore. She headed to her closet and pulled out a dark purple shirt.

It was a tank top with small stars and planets all over it. Since it was a Marinette design, the stars were accurately placed, and so were the planets. It had taken weeks of research to get just the placements right, not to mention all the hand-embroidering. The result was worth it, though. Each star was unique, and all the planets were beautiful combinations of color. Alix had been admiring it the last time she’d come over, and Marientte adjusted a few things to make it fit her. Now, it was a gift.

“Woah,” Alix said as Marinette handed it to her. “Are you sure?” Marinette scowled at her. What kind of idiotic question was that. She opened her mouth to speak, but Alix cut her off: “Wait, don’t say anything--thank you so much!” Alix ripped her shirt off and wore her gift. Marinette was more than pleased with the result. The color complemented Alix’s hair, and it fit remarkably well given that Marinette didn’t have Alix’s measurements. She started telling Alix all the washing instructions, but she was pretty sure Alix wasn’t listening. Marinette allowed her to tackle her in a hug. “This is awesome! I love it!”

“Of course you do,” Marinette shoved Alix off of her. “I made it.”

Alix got up and continued cleaning Marinette’s room with renewed vigor. For whatever reason, she seemed to think Marinette’s room was a pigsty. Marinette didn’t understand. The only mess she had were from all the clothes, but it wasn't like she could do much about that. She only had so much closet space, and it was all in use.

Marinette pulled out her laptop and opened up the Ladyblog. “Want to see what Alya’s got up?” she asked. Alix gave up folding a pile of turtlenecks and leaped onto Marinette’s bed. She leaned over Marinette’s shoulder, and the two of them scrolled through all the new posts.

“Woah, she’s got almost a million views,” Alix whistled. “And this video has over ten thousand likes.”

“It’s really blown up,” Marinette agreed. “I’m not surprised. She’s got exclusive photos and stuff.”

“She was telling me she was going to do some interviews and stuff,” Alix said. “Like, she was going to walk through Paris one day and ask people what they thought about Ladybug and Cat Noir, and all that jazz.”

“That sounds really cool,” Marinette knew she’d watch the video. She wasn’t a superhero because of the fame, or the praise people might give her, but hearing it would surely be a nice treat. “I’d watch the shit out of that.”

“She’s put a lot of effort into this, and it’s paying off. I’m happy for her.” Alix started cackling, “Max is so mad! She’s destroyed so many of his cameras!”

“I bet Nino loved that!” Marinette laughed.

“I never got why Nino doesn’t like Max.” Alix confided. “At first I thought he was mad because maybe he liked Kim and was jealous of Max or something, but then he started liking Chloe. So now I’m just so confused.”

“Something about his vibe being whack,” Marinette shrugged. “It’s no big deal. He can like or not like whoever he wants.”

“I know that,” Alix complained. “I just want to know why. Like, is there some story I don’t know about? I wanna know, and no one’s telling me.”

“Hey, Alya just uploaded something.” Marinette said. “It’s some history thing. I can’t believe she does this much research about it.”

“Forget that, I want to know about Nino and Max!”

“Ask him yourself,” Marinette mumbled. “I want to read this.”

“Don’t act like you’re not interested!” Alix protested.

“I’m not acting.” Marinette said. “Now quit interrupting, this is interesting.”

“I wish Kim was here.” Alix bemoaned, munching on her cookie. “He’d understand.”

Marinette didn’t respond and kept reading Alya’s post. She was talking about going to the new ancient Chinese exhibit with her family, and the’d come across a tapestry which had showed--believe it or not--Ancient Ladybug and Ancient Cat Noir! But they were different that the superheroes in Paris. Ladybug had wings, and Cat Noir had a bow and arrow. Marinette clicked to enlarge the picture. There it was: a beautiful classic image of an old Ladybug and Cat Noir. They clothes were different, and they had different hairstyles, but it was unmistakable. There had been a Ladybug and a Cat Noir in ancient China.

Alix grabbed one of Marinette’s pillows and tried to throw it at Marinette’s head. She missed. Marinette carefully closed her computer and placed it on the ground. She grabbed the pillow behind her, keeping eye contact with Alix. Alix scrambled to the end of the bed, but Marinette pulled her back and wound her arms back. Alix squirmed, but Marinette kept her in place.

“No!” Alix yelled. “This isn’t fair! My pillow didn’t even land!”

“It’s the principle of it!” Marinette growled, slamming the pillow onto her friend’s head. Alix crossed her arms in front of her face. “You come into my house, in my room, and throw a pillow at me?” Marinette kept hitting Alix, and Alix managed to escape. She scuttled to the head of the bed and grabbed another pillow--longer and smaller, but harder than the one Marinette was using. She held it like a club.

“Back off, or I won’t go easy on you!” Alix threatened. Marinette jumped up on her bed, and Alix followed suit. They whacked each other with the pillows until one of them threw their pillow onto the ground and started jumping on the bed, the other following suit.

“My mom won’t be happy about this!” Marinette laughed, shoving Alix away when she tried to tackle Marinette. She could have thrown Alix to the mattress for that, but she didn’t.

“Who cares, it's fun!”

It was. That was one of her favorite things about Alix. Marinette was so serious all the time, it was hard to remember she was still seventeen. When Alix came over, though, Marinette found herself doing dumb shit she’d scoff at until Alix convinced her to just throw her reservations and give it a go. It was fun, forgetting all her worries for a few moments and jumping on her bed with one of her best friends.

Alix left a few hours later, and Marinette was now all caught up with the dating life of Andre Courbis, Alix’s favorite French actor. Sabine made Marinette do the dishes after dinner, and then she was free for the night. She wanted to work on the green velvet, but she had bigger questions in mind. Tikki flew to the plate of leftovers Marinette had automatically carried up the stairs.

“Can I fly?” Marinette asked.

“I didn’t know humans could fly,” Tikki nibbled on a crest of bread. “But it would be very cool if you could. We’d be like twins!”

“Tikki. I meant when I was Ladybug.”

“I don't like talking to you when you're mad at me--could you ask tomorrow?”

“You are so annoying, and I can’t tell if you do it on purpose or not,” Marinette scowled at the little red kwami.

“If you don’t want to talk to me, how about I take you to Master Fu?” Tikki suggested. “Then I wouldn’t bother you, and you’d get your answers.”

“Who’s Master Fu?”

“He can tell you himself. Do you want to go?” Tikki saw the look on Marinette’s face and squealed. “This will be so much fun, like a field trip!”

“Tikki, spots on.”

Marinette jumped onto her balcony. She still remembered when Cat Noir waited for her on this balcony. She wanted to talk to him. That euphoric feeling she got when she talked to him, and the fluttering in her heart when he looked at her were addicting. She wanted to know more about him. He liked romantic movies, his favorite artist was actually a friend of his, and he was afraid his dad was going to abandon him like his mom, Every new thing she learned about him made her even more curious about him. What was his favorite flavor of ice cream? Did he like playing video games? How would he react if they went roller skating together?

“Let’s go!” Tikki said. “I can’t wait for you to meet Wayzz!”

Tikki guided Marinette through the streets of Paris. A few people pointed up at her and took pictures. She didn’t care, she wasn’t doing anything wrong. She just wanted to know if she could fly. Tikki led her to a crumbling apartment building. Marinette recognized this street. It had been attacked by an out of control Akuma almost five months ago. None of the buildings had been damaged enough to be deemed uninhabitable, but Marinette hadn’t thought of people still living here. She bet the rent had been decreased substantially.

She landed in front of a particularly destroyed front door and knocked. Her nose scrunched. Even from outside the door, the apartment reeked of alcohol.

The door opened, and a young man stood in front of her. He was wearing a hat with a pizza shop’s logo on it. His shirt was solid red, and his jeans were unfashionably faded. He looked unusually sober for someone living in an alcohol soaked apartment.

“That’s Justin,” Tikki squealed excitedly. “He’s the pizza delivery boy! He liked the shirt you made me.”

“It's Ladybug,” he called back in the apartment. Someone groaned, and Justin invited her in. She entered. If Alix didn’t like her bedroom, she would hate this place. There were old pizza boxes stacked on top of each other to make tables, and the only piece of real furniture she could see was a dirty brown couch in front of a jarringly old TV. The floor was covered with a layer of stained and sticky paper towels, and she could feel everything through the thin soles of the suit.

“Are you...Master Fu?”

“No, that’s Justin,” Tikki said. "Pay attention, Marinette."

“No, but Wayzz can get him, if you want.” Justin moved in front of the couch and opened the top pizza box. She’d been wrong. The couch was green, but it was so dark in the room it looked brown. Justin took out a piece and offered it to her. She turned it down. She stared at him like he was an alien. Shouldn’t he be a little more shocked that Ladybug had just entered his apartment? His calm demeanor weirded her out. She felt like she’d stepped into an alternate dimension.

“Wayzz?” Marinette watched a few bugs crawl around the wall behind the TV. All the lights were off, so the only source of light was from the game on the TV.

“His kwami.” Justin bit into the pizza in his hands and made a face. “Ugh. He never orders mushrooms. He must be having a good day.” If he really was just a pizza delivery boy, why did he know what kwamis were?

Justin called for Wayzz to get Fu, and a little turtle kwami appeared from a side room, That must’ve been Wayzz. The turtle zipped down an ominous looking doorway. There was an exasperated conversation, then there was a silence which lasted a good five minutes. Marinette was too confused to feel impatient. Finally, a haggard old man fell across the floor. Marinette rushed forward and caught him before his head hit the ground.

The man was startlingly familiar. His brown eyes were bloodshot, his white hair was sparse, and he smelled like he’d been bathing in vodka for a week. He burped, and somehow the stench of stale alcohol grew even stronger around him. Oh, yeah, Marinette remembered him.

“You’re that old man that gave me the earrings,” she said, helping him stand. “You’re Fu?”

“That’s me. You’re…” he squinted at her. “Who the hell are you?”

“Oh, no,” she snapped. “I’ll be the one asking the questions here.” She guided him to his disgusting couch. She hesitated to make him sit on it. It looked like a physical embodiment of every health code violation in the world. Fu didn’t seem to care as much as she did and slouched on a flattened couch cushion. “Who are you, and why do you have a kwami?”

“I’m too sober for this,” he muttered, checking around him and under the seat cushions. “Wayzz!” he called. “Beer!”

Wayzz flew towards him with a brown Budweiser in hand. Marinette snatched it out of the air. Fu reached towards it, but she held it out of his reach.

“Do you know how to spell my name?” he asked. “F. U.”

“Cute,” she narrowed her eyes at him. “You didn’t answer my question. Who are you, and why do you have a kwami?”

“I want my beer.”

“You’ll get it when I’m gone, and I’m only leaving after I get answers.”

“Well I’ve got a question for you: how did you get into my house?”

“Justin let me in.” Marinette gestured to the young man who stood by the door, watching them like a child would watch his arguing parents. He moved towards the door.

“I’ll, uh, cover the cost of your pizza. Pay double tomorrow,” Then Justin left, leaving Marinette in a house with an ancient, incredibly alcohol dependent man, and two kwamis.

“Promise you’ll leave when you get your answers?”

“Yes. Now, who are you, why does Tikki say you can tell me how to fly, and how do you have a kwami?”

“I forgot most of that, but my name is Fu Peizhi, I’m the guardian of the Miraculous, and I need you to speak quieter. Your yelling is giving me a headache.”

“I’m not yelling,” she growled. “You’re just hungover. That’s pathetic, you’re like a hundred years old and you’re drinking so early in the day that you’re hungover at eleven pm?”

“I’m four hundred, actually.” Oh, he was such a smart ass. Marinette couldn’t stand him. “Did you just come here to nag me? What the hell do you want?”

“What is the guardian of the Miraculous?”

“I guard the Miraculous, duh.” Marinette glared at Fu, and he sighed dramatically. “There’s more than just the Ladybug and the Black Cat, you know. Like the Butterfly, the Tiger, the...uh, what’s another animal? Pig, there’s definitely a Pig Miraculous. Anyway, it’s my job to guard them. I give them to those worthy of the power, and they usually don’t break into my house.” He looked at her pointedly.

“Hold on, there’s a butterfly Miraculous? Is that who’s been making all the Akuma?”

“Akuma--is that what the kids are calling them these days? Yeah, I guess, if they’re moth-butterfly-things with powers.”

“You know who that is?” Marinette demanded. “Why haven’t you gone to the police with this information? The Akuma have been terrorizing Paris for almost two years, and you’ve known who it was this whole time?”

“Oh, the Butterfly isn’t who’s been terrorizing Paris,” Wayzz piped up. “That would be one of the powers of the Fish Miraculous.”

“So there’s two Miraculous destroying Paris, and you knew exactly who they’ve been this entire time?” Marinette fumed. “What the hell is the matter with you? Who are they?!”

“I have no clue,” Fu drawled. “A couple years back I lost a few of the Miraculous, so I don’t know who has them. Hell, I don’t even remember who you are, and I actually gave the Miraculous to you...I think?"

“What?” Marinette hissed. “You lost them? How does that even happen? How drunk are you? You!” She turned to Wayzz. “Why is he always drunk, and why are you enabling him?”

“I can’t say no to him,” Wayzz said timidly. “He is the Master. We must obey him.”

“So he can just tell the other kwamis to come tell him who their partners are?”

“Ah...no. He can’t talk to them and order them if he doesn't know where they are.”

Marinette wanted to strangle the turtle, or maybe Fu. They were the direct source of all her problems. The weird old man who’d given her the Miraculous earrings was the same idiot who’d given destructive power to complete strangers through pure negligence, and his kwami had sat and twiddled its thumbs the whole time? This was so stupid, and being around such carelessness felt like physical on her skin.

“You--how could you--this is completely!” She shook with a fury she hadn’t felt in her entire life. Words escaped her. Her face heated with rage, and it exploded out of her. “You had one job! You, yourself said you’re the guardian of the Miraculous--the guardian. What kind of person gets themselves so drunk they lose not just one, but multiple super powerful items because they were piss drunk? That’s right, only an idiot! How could you be so incompetent? This is ridiculous!”

“Quit yelling, you she-demon,” Fu looked nauseous. “Besides, I said I was a guardian; I never said I was a good guardian.”

“There's no such thing as a bad guardian! You either protect what you're supposed to, and you're a guardian, or you don't, and you call yourself an asshole. There is no in between! There’s more people than just yourself depending on how badly you screw this shit up, and it pisses me off that you don't even seem to care!”

“I suggest you be quiet,” Fu said. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I don’t need to know anything about you, and I don’t want to! I know that you’re the guardian of the Miraculous, and you either really suck at it, or you’ve given up trying. Neither of those are excuses! Peoples’ lives are on the line and you just sit around getting drunk all day and tormenting Wayzz when you don’t get enough beer!”

Fu narrowed his eyes at her and pursed his lips in anger, but stayed silent. Marinette was ready to explode, and his silence enraged her. The coward wouldn’t even defend himself? She was itching for a fight, but it was impossible and stupid to fight against a silent opponent. If Tikki was in front of her, she would have ripped into her. This careless old cretin was supposed to have helped her? She turned and glared at Wayzz. Wayzz fled to the side room.

“Don’t look at him, it’s not his fault. Justin warned us he wasn’t in a good mood.”  Tikki said.

“Not now, Tikki,” Marinette snapped. “This is all your fault. If you had just told me from the beginning whether or not the suit could fly, we wouldn’t be here right now, and I wouldn't be ready to rip someone’s head off. Goddamnit, now I’m saying it, too!”

“Master?” Wayzz peeked through the doorway. “Since the Ladybug is here, it might be a good idea to tell her of her duties?”

“No, you tell her. I’m not talking to the she-demon anymore.”

“Yes, Master. Ladybug, would you like to come to the kitchen?”

Marinette crossed her arms. “We’ll talk here.” Hopefully it would bother Fu. Anything which irritated the old man would give Marinette the utmost pleasure. Wayzz nodded and slowly made his way to her. He sat on the back of the couch.

“Firstly, I should tell you that Master wasn’t supposed to give you the Ladybug Miraculous.”

Marinette worked to calm down. If she frowned too much, she’d give herself early wrinkles, like her mom. “Yeah, I got that. He doesn’t even remember who I am.”

“No, it’s not just you which was the problem. The Ladybug cannot be in circulation without the Black Cat. Any time the Ladybug is released, there must be a Black Cat or the balance will be broken, and the Ladybug will come to harm. Typically, we only release the Black Cat in times of great distress, for fear of it being stolen, or lost.”

“With a guardian like Fu, it’d be safer in a Miraculous holder’s hands,” Marinette mumbled.

“You’re forgetting the most important part,” Fu growled at his kwami. “We don’t release the Black Cat because it’s dangerous. The Ladybug is there to protect the Black Cat; that’s your top priority.”

“If that’s my top priority, why’d you wait until I came here to tell me? What if I never bothered coming, then my ‘top priority’ would’ve never been told to me. You’re such an idiot. If you’re going to make shit up, at least think it through, first.”

Fu frowned. “I’m not making it up, wench. If the Ladybug Miraculous is taken, it would be a bit of a problem, but if the Black Cat was lost, it would be a catastrophe.” Fu paused and chuckled. “Hehe, catastrophe. Where’s Wayzz? Wayzz!”

“Yes, Master?” Wayzz sounded tired.

“What would happen if the Black Cat Miraculous was taken? It would be a--”

“A catastrophe,” Wayzz chuckled weakly. “Yes, Master. It is a very funny joke, and I laugh every time I hear it. Would you like to continue to tell Ladybug her duties?”

“I’ll tell you what I want,” Fu said. Marinette had an idea she knew what he was going to say and threw the beer at him before he could say it. He was useless anyway. With surprisingly quick reflexes, he caught the bottle and popped it open. He took a large sip and slumped on the couch. She shook her head. This was the kind of person which disgusted her the most.

“Your powers are also perfectly suited to your duty,” Wayzz faced her. “While the Black Cat was made for attack, the Ladybug’s specialty is defense. The more you transform, the more your soul’s wavelength and Tikki’s magical wavelength will sync up, which will create more powerful resonances of power. Eventually you will be able to power up, but all these extra powers will likely be defense-based.”

This was the first piece of useful information Marinette had been given since she’d stepped into Fu’s disgusting apartment. It had only taken thirty minutes for Marinette to get the answer to her original, simple question. “So, I can fly?”

“Eventually, perhaps. The powers aren’t set, and largely depend on the user and their imaginations.”

That was lucky for her. She was a designer. She used her imagination and creativity on a daily basis. She could barely begin to think of all the possibilities she and Tikki could work towards.

“I fear you’re missing the main point,” Wayzz said. “You need to ensure the Black Cat’s safety, as well as your own.”

“Why is it only on me?” Marinette rested a hand on her hip and stared at Wayzz. “Cat Noir is also a person, and he’s not an idiot. He’s the ‘attack,’ like you keep saying. Why isn’t it on him?”

“I don’t know,” Wayzz shrugged. “It's simply the way it is. The Ladybug must protect the Black Cat. This is your duty.”

It might have been the wording, or the look in the kwami’s eyes, but something clicked within Marinette. There was no more need to question it. Just like how it was second nature to wield the yo-yo, it was now instinctive to save her partner, and keep him safe before herself, even. It was the strangest thing. Tikki whispered in her mind that it had to do with the magic of the Miraculous. Everyone’s Miraculous influenced them. Those that used the Tiger developed a temper, those who were partnered with the Black Cat were reckless, and the Ladybugs became protective. It was just the way of things, and it would be better if she didn’t fight it. Those that fought it typically didn’t last too long.

“So I need to protect Cat Noir from the Makara and the Akuma? That’s easy. I do that anyway.”

“It goes beyond that,” Wayzz shook his head. Fu’s head started to dip. “You must help protect his identity. It’s the best way to keep others from trying to take his Miraculous. We’ve already lost so many, we can’t afford to lose track of another--especially not the Black Cat.”

“He’s done a pretty good job of keeping it secret so far. What do you want me to do?”

“Why do you ask so many questions?” Fu grumbled. “Leave already.” Marinette and Wayzz ignored him, but Tikki started urging Marinette to go home. Marinette wanted to ignore the old man, just to spite him, but she couldn’t. This was his house, and he’d officially told her to leave. If she stayed, she would be trespassing. And, Tikki wanted to go home. Wayzz tried to get her to stay, to convince her of more duties she had. Marinette wanted no part of that.

“We’re leaving,” she announced. Fu raised his bottle and cheered. She slammed the door behind her.

(In the following days, Marinette transformed every night and tried everything she could think of to sprout wings and fly. She tried meditating, swinging faster on her yo-yo, and even asking multiple times with increasing desperation. Nothing worked. She was, however, able to add an extra five minutes to the time she had on her transformation after using Lucky Charm.)

Chapter Text

Adrien exited the school building and turned the corner to the courtyard. He had finally pumped himself up and gathered the courage to sit with Marinette and her friend group during lunch. He was going to just walk up to them, ask if he could sit, and take a seat next to her. He was quiet for a minute, but then Marinette would say something and he would find it charming and cute. He’d loosen up and he’d draw her into conversation--maybe they’d talk about Nino’s music again, or maybe he’d talk about her clothes, or ask what she thought of Agreste’s latest magazine. She’d get excited and talk to him and he’d have an hour of her undivided attention. He had a feeling today was going to be a very good day.

His feeling was quickly proven wrong.

He walked through the courtyard, past dozens of friend groups from other classes and grades until he found his best friend, Chloe, glaring at the girl of his dreams. Sabrina stood by Chloe’s side, hands on hips and ready to fight. Luka, for whatever reason, was there, too, and he was shaking his head. Juleka was walking away from the scene, lightly patting Nino on the back. His buddy’s face was burning red, and it almost looked like he had tears in his eyes. No one moved, and Adrien fought the urge to back away and go back to the classroom.

“I bet you’re pretty confused,” Alya whispered in his ear, appearing out of nowhere. Adrien rubbed his ear--he hated when people whispered directly in his ears; they were ticklish.

“Uh, yeah,” Adrien whispered back. Luka glanced in their direction, and Nino shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Marinette and Chloe were having a battle of the wills and refused to back away from each other.

“You see, Nino went over to Chloe to tell her he liked her shoes. He was like, ‘Are those new shoes? Can you show me where you bought them, maybe on Saturday? Like a date?’ and Chloe got super mad. She was like ‘No, I’m not going to go out with you, don’t you get it? Quit bugging me and leave me along. You’re pathetic and your music sucks and your parents don’t even want you’ blah blah blah. Nino cried, and then Marinette stepped in--that’s when all the drama really started. Oh, I should mention that Luka showed up about ten minutes ago. Everyone was super confused and Juleka tried to get him to leave, but he wasn’t really listening to anyone. Anyway, Marinette got all protective and huffy and was all like ‘he was just being nice and asking you out, you could be nicer about turning him down, and you can stick that nasty attitutude right up your butt,’ but obviously she swore a lot more and was generally more aggressive. Classic Marinette, right?

“So that’s when Sabrina came in. She was all like ‘Chloe doesn’t have to say yes, and what else is she supposed to do if he can’t take no for an answer?’ and Marinette was like ‘It’s not ok to make people cry.’ Then Luka was like ‘you don’t need to butt in all the time, like, Nino’s fine.’ But that was total bs because Nino was obviously not doing fine, and Marinette said that. Luka was condescending about her temper, and Sabrina laughed and said Marinette should stay out of things which were none of her business. Chloe told Sabrina that she didn’t need her help. Marinette asked Sabrina if having a friend like Chloe worth being treated like crap. Chloe got mad at Marinette and told her she didn’t have anything to do with her and Sabrina’s friendship, and to lay off Sabrina because she wasn’t a part of this. Then they sort of started this staring contest, and no one’s won yet.”

“I wasn’t crying,” Nino shifted over to them.

“Yes you were,” Alya said. “Don’t deny it. No one’s judging.” Nino pursed his lips and looked like he didn’t agree. Luka ambled up to them. Marinette and Chloe didn’t budge; Sabrina continued to provide moral support, or something.

“Hey, Man,” Luka grinned at Adrien and led him through a complicated handshake. “We’re still on for rehearsal tomorrow?”

“Yeah, of course.” Adrien glanced at Marinette. “Did you hear Alya’s rundown of what happened?”

“Yeah. I’m pretty impressed, she got everything right.”

“Of course I did,” Alya said, “I’m a reporter. I observe, and then I report.”

“What are you doing here?” Adrien asked. “You don’t even go to this high school.”

“Yeah, I just,” Luka glanced at Marinette and lowered his voice. “I’m trying to get a feel for Mari,”

“What?” Nino sounded like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Adrien was in the same boat.

“I miss her,” Luka admitted. “And I think she still likes me. I’m egging her on a bit, and I bet in a week she’ll be eating out of my hand again.”

“Dude, you’re messed up.”

Adrien silently agreed with Nino. Alya voiced her opinion, and she wasn’t as kind as Nino.

“That’s such a disgusting way to think,” Her nose wrinkled. “Has it ever occurred to you that she’s moved on and when she’s snapping at you, it’s because she’s sick of you?”

Luka laughed. “Obviously, you don’t know Mari very well.”

“Maybe you should call her Marinette,” Adrien suggested. “She doesn’t seem to like that nickname.”

“That’s what she says, but deep down, she likes it.”

“My hair!” All the boys turned to Alya, startled by her outburst. Adrien winced as he saw her hair; she was right to sound so distressed about it. Little hairs were starting to curl everywhere, and in general the hair was puffing up. It was a subtle change, and Adrien was impressed Alya could apparently feel the difference without looking in a mirror.

A siren blared through the street, and all the students froze. Then they moved as one frenzied mob. Marinette grabbed Chloe and Sabrina by the arms and dragged them throught he crowd. Adrien tried to beeline to the bathroom, but Marinette barked at him to follow her to safety. Mr. Damocles’s voice echoed through the school, pleading with everyone to move in an ordered fashion. No one listened to him.

Marinette dragged Sabrina and Chloe to Bunker 12, and Adrien was forced to follow. As long as he was with them, he did his best to keep them from being separated. It was no easy feat; people got rowdy and desperate when their lives were at stake, and Adrien soon found himself separated from his classmates. He took it as a sign and pushed himself to the nearest alleyway. He wanted to keep his identity a secret, but there was no danger of anyone looking this way when they were so focused on survival and getting to the nearest bunker as quick as possible.

He transformed and extended his baton, looking around the city for the Makara. The sirens still blared in the street. He couldn’t see the Makara anywhere. He dropped down to the street and stopped a woman, demanded her phone, and logged onto the Ladyblog. The official police account posted the location of the Makara. It was in the suburbs of the city, almost seven miles away. He shot off into the sky, keeping his eyes open for the Makara, or an Akuma.

“Watch out,” Plagg warned. “This one’s strong. One of those Advanced Makara.”

“Do you know what it’ll do to us?”

“No clue. Sorry, Kid.”

Adrien saw the Makara rising in the horizon. Like all the other Advanced Makara, it was huge. Its body hunched over, like a gorilla, but it had flippers like a seal, which it used to knock over the nearby buildings. Its head was covered entirely by a red mist. A buzz sounded in the back of Adrien’s head, and he was suddenly aware of a tension in his chest. It felt almost like a rope inside his ribcage. Plagg warned him to be careful; his words tightened the tension in the rope and the buzzing got just the slightest bit louder.

Adrien vaulted over the police and adjusted his grip on the staff, holding it almost like a spear as he flew through the air. The baton bounced off the Makara’s hide. Damn the staff, it was useless; if only he could sharpen the end.

A small red blur zoomed through the air, and Ladybug landed on the Makara’s back. She landed and looked a little unsteady. She ran up the creature’s spine, towards its smoky head. A few policemen yelled at them from the street, and the noise tightened the rope even further. Adrien rubbed at his chest. It felt like he was confined in his skin, and he needed to do something to get rid of the tension.

He jumped up the Makara, landing on the Makara’s head. Underneath all the mist, there was an actual head. It was just impossible to see. It must have been made of something very hard, though, because it felt like stone underneath Adrien’s boots. The red mist swirled thickly around him, and it fogged his head. The tension in the rope got unbearably tight, and he needed to do something to get the feeling out of him.

He extended his staff so that it was the size of a baseball bat. He steadied himself and smacked it against the Makara’s head with all his strength. A puff of mist emerged from where the baton had struck. Hitting the Makara eased the tension in his chest a little, but it wasn’t enough. He wound back and slammed it down again. There was a subtle cracking sound. Another blast of mist erupted from the head. The sirens still rang through the streets, and it rattled Adrien’s brain. Again and again he beat the staff against the Makara’s head. Thick red smoke rose around him, and it bit at his eyes.

A yo-yo wrapped around him and he was almost pulled to the ground. Ladybug showed up next to him.

“Get this off of me,” he growled at her, the tension in his chest rapidly tightening again. He pushed his arms to loosen the ties confining him. He didn’t want to be touched--he just wanted to destroy. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Don’t snap at me,” She withdrew her yo-yo and threw it at the Makara’s head. It cracked under the force of her throw. The smoke blew in her face, and she glared down at the Makara.

“Get out of here!” Adrien whacked the Makara’s head again. Red mist swirled around them, and Ladybug almost disappeared in it. “You’re just getting in the way and frustrating the hell out of me! Go mess with the Akuma or something.”

Ladybug’s yo-yo wrapped around his staff and she pulled it towards herself. She rammed it into the Makara’s head. It stuck out of the creature like the sword in the stone.

“Get over yourself,” she snapped at him. “We’re partners, remember? Quit giving me such an attitude and don’t yell at me again!”

“Don’t parent me!” Adrien yelled, stalking over to her. “You’re not my mom, so stop telling me how to act, and leave me alone!” His muscles trembled, and he could just throttle her. Instead he reached for his staff. It was stuck in the Makara. He pulled at it, and something broke underneath it. Ladybug mumbled something to herself, and a light enveloped her. She’d created the machine firefighters used to get people out of crumbled cars--the jaws of life. She jammed it in the crack Adrien had created and started it.

The Makara screeched under them and threw its head back. Adrien lost his footing, but Ladybug reached out and pulled him upright. He shook her hands off. She scowled at him and he glared right back. Yeah, she wasn’t the only one who could be nasty. He was tired of her uppity attitude, and how she was always telling him what to do, and how to act. He’d thought she was different from everyone else in his life, but he had been wrong--she was just like them, just a nosy, bossy, bitch.

The Makara screeched again, and the red mist pooled around them, thicker than before. Adrien didn’t care. It wasn’t dead yet. It moved; Adrien and Ladybug were flung off the creature. Rocks rained around them, and a large chunk hit him in the back. The air was knocked out of him, and the tension in his chest disappeared, replaced by fear. He had no staff, and he was falling to the crumbled street from five stories in the air. If he didn’t die, he was going to be pretty messed up for a long time.

A thin restraint wrapped around his waist and jerked him up. Ladybug was on a roof, a perfect picture of a reliable superhero. Anger rose in Adrien’s chest again. He didn’t need her to treat him like a little kid, and he didn’t need her to look down at him. He struggled with the rope, trying to free himself.

“Stop struggling,” Ladybug grunted, pulling him up next to her. “You’re acting like an idiot!”

“And you’re acting like a control freak! Let me down!”

The Makara screeched behind them, and an Akuma finally appeared. Adrien didn’t get a chance to study it, because he was suddenly being flung through the air. Ladybug swung him through the air like a lasso. Her eyes were hard, and she finally released him. The air whistled in his ears and his hair covered his eyes. He landed on the Makara’s head and groaned. The red mist clung to him.

He crawled to his staff for balance and glared at Ladybug. She was already engaging with the Akuma and didn’t spare him so much as a glance. She’d left him to take care of the Makara, just as he’d asked her. For whatever reason, this infuriated him.

He pulled his staff to the side, using it as a source of leverage to crack the Makara’s stone surface. The Makara kept tilting from side to side as it smashed through building after building. It was near impossible to get it to slow down, even with Ladybug directing the Akuma’s attacks towards it. Adrien kept pulling at the baton.

“Just use Cataclysm, you idiot!”

“Don’t call me an idiot,” Adrien grit. “Cataclysm!” He slammed his hand onto the Makara’s head. It started to dissolve. The Akuma fell into a destroyed restaurant and Ladybug followed it. Cat Noir’s ring beeped as he guided himself to the ground. The string of tension was still tight in his chest.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” An officer marched up to him. “You can’t defeat the entire Makara by yourself. What do you think will happen to us? The people won’t take the police seriously anymore--the media will say we’re leaving the safety of Paris to a couple of teenagers!”

“Well, what’s so wrong about that?” Adrien stood taller and stood toe to toe with the officer. “Isn’t that what you’re doing anyway?”

“The city will cut our budget!” the officer growled.

“That’s not my problem,” Adrien answered hotly. “The way I see it, you haven’t been doing so well with keeping the streets of Paris safe, lately. And it’s not like you’re much help with the Makara or Akuma, either. Just what the hell does the city pay you for, anyway?”

“Cut it out!” Ladybug dragged a half unconscious Akuma behind her. It was larger than an average person, almost ten feet tall. Its wings were tilted at an uncomfortable angle, and it had extra arms sprouted from its waist. There were knives on each of its forearms. Its head rolled down, so Adrien wasn’t sure if he knew who it was. The look on Ladybug’s face was fierce, and decidedly unhappy. She didn’t look too different from normal, actually.

Adrien readied himself for a fight with Ladybug, but she turned to the officer: “Back off.” Adrien was surprised she didn’t say more; evidently, she didn’t need to. The officer didn’t move for a second, but the venom in Ladybug’s glare got to him. She threw the Akuma at him. “Can you Cataclysm the Akuma’s weak spot?”

Adrien’s ring beeped, reminding him that he’d already used his Cataclysm. Stupid limited superpowers. He looked over the Akuma’s form.

“Can you or not?” Ladybug snapped. “If you can’t, just let me know so we can sedate the Akuma until next time; quit wasting my time!”

“I don’t need Cataclysm to destroy its weak spot,” Adrien glared at her. He reached down and turned the Akuma so that he could see its body. He had a pretty good idea what the weak point could be. He grabbed its belt and tore into it with his claws. Nothing. He tore the man’s jacket. Still nothing.

“If you don’t know what you’re doing, leave the guy alone,” Ladybug pulled the Akuma away from him, but he held on.

“I’m not an idiot,” he growled.

“Then stop acting like one! You’re destroying all his stuff, and you’re riling yourself up. Go home and calm down!”

“I’m perfectly calm!” Adrien grabbed the man’s necklace and ripped it apart. A butterfly emerged from the broken jewelry. Ladybug purified it and turned back to him.

“Listen, you’re obviously in a bad mood, and I bet it has to do with the Makara. I just want--”

“I can’t listen to this anymore,” Cat Noir interrupted her. “Unless you have something useful to say, I’m leaving.” Her lips pursed until they were white.

“Fine, be that way. I’m going home.”

Cat Noir left, too.

(That afternoon, Adrien was shuttled from lesson to lesson. No one noticed his brittle smiles or short responses. His anger built up within him until he excused himself halfway through his Chinese lesson, a tension headache throbbing in his head. He took some medicine and retired to bed early. Plagg rubbed ointment on the large purple bruise on his back. Natalie entered his room and told him his schedule for tomorrow had been revised. His father didn’t check on him.)

(Marinette went home in a bad mood. Her mother, not known for her tolerance of disrespectful attitudes, took Marinette to the park for a few hours. They practiced their martial arts together, and by the time they went back to the bakery, Marinette was too tired to be angry. She worked in the kitchen with her father until her eyes couldn’t stay open. She collapsed in bed with the lights on. Tikki tucked her human into bed and shut the lights off.)

(The police officers of Paris were in a notably bad mood for the next couple of days, and there was a marked increase in traffic infraction tickets they gave to the pedicab drivers. A number of them left angry remarks about Ladybug and Cat Noir on the Ladyblog. The comments were left up, but people did not take too kindly to the words, especially if they had been given a ticket. For the next couple of weeks, the courts were full of irate Parisians ready to fight to the death to appeal their tickets.)

Chloe strut into the classroom, walking in like she owned the room. There was no other way for her to be. Gabriel Agreste had found her crying in a corner of his house almost a decade ago, when her mother had left for New York for the first time.

They’d had a long chat. She’d confided in him all of her insecurities, and how she felt inadequate in almost every single way. She looked too much like her father for her mother to care for her, she wasn’t creative enough for her mother to want her, she wasn’t confident enough for her mother to love her. And now her mother was gone. Gabriel had gathered her in his arms and carried her to the kitchen, where he ordered the chef to make her a bowl of macaroni and cheese. Then, he’d sat down and told her the best piece of advice anyone had given her in her life: if she acted confident, eventually the real feeling would follow. And when she was confident enough, she wouldn’t need others. Her mother’s actions were only able to hurt her because Chloe allowed them to. Once she grew up a bit and gained some confidence, it wouldn’t hurt anymore.

Chloe had lived every day since then with that advice in mind. She hadn’t yet reached the point where her mother couldn’t hurt her, but she was getting close. She was getting closer to being so confident that she didn’t need anyone to hold her, or protect her, or be nice to her. She was on her way to being so self-sufficient that it wouldn’t matter what other people said about her or to her. There was really only one person who had been in her way: Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Dupain-Cheng had never left Chloe alone. She continuously stepped in when Chloe was doing anything, telling her what she could do better, and what not to do. She was harsh and blunt and sometimes downright mean, and she never softened her words. Every sound that came out of her mouth sounded like a personal attack, and try as she might, Chloe couldn’t keep herself from trying to change herself so that Dupain-Cheng would leave her alone. She never did.

Until a few hours ago, Chloe had been convinced the pushy girl had hated her. Why else would someone continuously yell at someone and talk down to them? Then, in the middle of a heated argument, she’d pulled her to the bunker and made sure both she and Sabrina were safe. It wasn’t even like she was going to the bunker with them; she’d dropped Chloe and Sabrina off at the bunker then ran off, spouting out something about making sure her parents were safe. It was the weirdest thing, and Chloe couldn’t figure out why she’d done such a thing.

Chloe had been stuck in a crowded, sweaty bunker for almost forty minutes. At first she’d tried to play games on her phone, but the internet was so slow it infuriated Chloe more than it had distracted her. She’d put her phone away and listened as Sabrina complained about their classmate. Chloe had hummed along, but she couldn’t agree with everything Sabrina had said.

Yes, Dupain-Cheng stuck her head in where it didn’t belong, and she was incredibly rude about it. Yes, she was constantly frowning at people and was almost never in a good mood. Yes, she swore more than a sailor. But was she biased in all her decisions? Was she unable to get over her initial judgements of people? Did she bully people and isolate them when she didn’t like them? No. From what Chloe had seen, Dupain-Cheng bothered with other people when they bothered her, but she didn’t actively seek them out to antagonize them. She simply didn’t care enough to go through all that effort.

Dupain-Cheng walked without the strut Chloe had mastered over the years. She spoke without thinking, and never let others thoughts influence her own opinions. She was annoying and rude, but she was the embodiment of what Chloe aspired to be.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was unapologetically herself. She walked around like the world didn’t owe her anything, and she wasn’t upset about it. She didn’t care if people were mean to her, or what they said about her, and did whatever she thought was right. Chloe wished she had even a sliver of that genuine self confidence.

Chloe sat at her seat. Adrien wasn’t there yet. Not many people were. It was pretty much just her and the girl with gorgeous curly hair and an immense knowledge of Shakespeare. Chloe sighed and rested her hand on her fist. Alya glanced at her.

“You got hurt by the Makara yesterday?”

“I thought I covered it up with concealer,” Chloe’s hand hovered over her own forehead, subconsciously trying to hide the blue bruise.

“It’s not too noticeable,” Alya assured. “I’m just observant.”

“Oh, yeah,” Chloe lowered her hand. “You’re little miss reporter.”

“And proud of it.” There wasn’t much more to say in response, so Chloe didn’t say anything. “I run the Ladyblog,” Alya said, and Chloe glanced at her. “I’m doing a bit where I interview people about their thoughts about Ladybug and Cat Noir. Would you mind if I interviewed you and put your name on the blog?”

“Do what you want,” Chloe sat up straight and Alya walked over, pulling her phone out and started recording.

“Who do you prefer, Ladybug or Cat Noir?” Alya’s voice was even and professional, with no hint of preference. It was easy for Chloe to answer without feeling like she would be judged.

“Ladybug.”

“Any reason why?”

“She’s been there longer, and she just seems so cool. I love her catchphrase: Lean On Me. It’s so snappy and to the point, and I think it perfectly represents what a hero should be. A hero should be available for the people, and not think about themselves.”

Alya looked a little surprised that Chloe would answer with such detail and sincerity, and Chloe sniffed. That just went to show how much little miss observant knew about her. Alya continued with the interview:

“Do you dislike Cat Noir?”

“No, he just reminds me a lot of my childhood friend, so I can’t take him seriously.”

“He reminds you of Adrien Agreste?” Alya lost her professional tone of voice and sounded actually curious. “How?”

“He’s got this whole ‘golden boy’ persona that his mom forced him into, but he’s actually a bit of a cheeky bastard if you get to really know him. Cat Noir just reminds me of him. Leave this out of your dumb blog, by the way.”

“It’s not dumb,” Alya said, then moved onto her next question: “Have you had any personal contact with Ladybug or Cat Noir?”

“No, but I was behind the guy who got his phone taken by Ladybug that one time. I was so jealous she hadn’t waited like, four seconds and taken my phone instead.”

“She took his phone to check the Ladyblog,” Alya said proudly. “You should check it out. You might like it and stop calling it dumb.”

“I’ve been on it,” Chloe rolled her eyes. “And it is good. I just find it dumb that your blog is more up to date and accurate than the news is.”

“Oh,” Alya blinked. She cleared her throat and opened her mouth to say something else, but Dupain-Cheng and Adri-cat entered the room together. Chloe focused on the Chinese girl. She was pretty, in a tough, menacing sort of way, but her personality was just so odd. Chloe couldn’t figure her out. One second she was glaring at Chloe, then she’d gone all Mother Teresa and saved her and Sabrina. She wanted to know why. It drove her nuts--Dupain-Cheng wasn’t a nice person. She constantly yelled and snapped and scowled at people. She lectured Chloe any chance she got, and never cut anyone the slightest bit of slack. So, why had she seen fit to grab Chloe and Sabrina when they’d frozen?

“Where is everyone?” Adri-cat asked, glancing around the empty classroom. Alya stopped the recording on her phone, opened up a search engine, and typed into it rapidly.

“School was canceled today,” she announced, “Somehow we were the only ones who didn’t get the memo, I guess.”

Dupain-Cheng spun on her heel and left, taking a big swig of her coffee. Chloe stood up and beelined after her. She pushed past a love-sick Adri-cat and grabbed Dupain-Cheng’s arm. While she would have loved to tease him about how obvious he was any other day, today she was on a mission. Chloe caught up to her and grabbed her arm.

“I need to talk to you,” she said. Dupain-Cheng turned back to face her and Chloe dropped her arm. “Well, it’s more like I need to ask you something.”

“Do you need something?”

“Yes. I need answers. Why did you bother with Sabrina and I yesterday? We would’ve gotten to safety eventually, and we aren’t even friends. You don’t even like me. So why did you waste time on us when you wanted to go check on your parents, or whatever?”

“That’s your question?” Dupain-Cheng snorted. “It’s easy. You looked like you needed help, and I was there. As long as I can help someone, even if they haven’t asked for it, even if it makes things harder on me, I’ll be there. That’s what any decent person would do.”

No, that wasn’t true. Chloe had met dozens, hundreds of decent people. Not a single one of them would willingly waste their own time or put themselves in danger because of someone they didn’t even like. This was unique, and one of those qualities Chloe secretly admired about the girl. It was strange to think about, but the person she fought with the most was the person she most looked up to, who she used as a sort of role model.

Chloe thought back to what she’d told Alya, about what a hero was: someone who was there for others. What Marinette Dupain-Cheng was striving for, who she was trying to become, was a hero.

It felt a little pathetic to aspire to be like a grumpy Chinese girl who couldn’ function without twenty ounces of coffee every day when said girl was pushing herself to become a hero, but Chloe pushed down the urge to compare herself to Dupain-Cheng. The baker’s daughter would never compare herself to others, and neither would Chloe.

She’d work hard and become as confident and self-assured as Dupain-Cheng, and then who knew? Maybe one day she could become a hero herself.

Chapter Text

The cool wind mussed Marinette’s hair and she reached up to readjust her blue knitted hat. There were barely any leaves left to be strewn about, so the air howled through the mostly empty street. She shivered. Adrien, sitting next to her in the pedicab, moved fractionally closer. She took a sip of coffee and closed her eyes, savoring the warmth. Adrien cleared his throat and she looked at him.

“You know how I knew you were French?” he asked, completely out of nowhere. Marinette furrowed her brow, but he wouldn’t let her answer: “Because Eiffel for you.”

“What?” It was too early for his nonsense.  

“You know, like the Eiffel tower? ‘I fell for you’ or Eiffel for you?” He bit his lip and looked at her. It was hard to tell whether he was trying to go for a joke or a pickup line. Either way, it failed. It wasn’t funny, and it definitely wasn’t charming or cute.

Adrien shifted nervously in his seat, no longer looking at her. Marinette brought her coffee closer to her face to warm up her numbing nose. “Can you be quiet until we get to school?”

Adrien slumped in his seat. “Oh, uh, yeah. Sure.”

Marinette leaned back and closed her eyes, happy for a few minutes of rest before a surely exhausting handful of hours at school. Her seat dipped as they hit a pothole, and the driver grunted something which might have been an apology.

“Can I have some coffee?”

“You don’t drink coffee,” Marinette grumbled. She was tired, couldn’t he see that? She didn’t want to talk to him, and she definitely didn’t want to share her precious caffeine with him. She glanced at his face. He looked so hopeful, almost like a child. Coffee was a gift to the world, and meant to be shared with everyone. He did look tired, and just because she hadn't seen him drink coffee unless he was around her didn't mean that he didn't drink it at home. Besides, he looked awfully anticipative. Wouldn’t it be cruel to deny him? She sighed. He was taking her to school; she did owe him. She handed him the thermos, but snatched it back after it was clear he wasn’t going to stop until she made him. “Don’t drink it all.” She wrapped her arms around the thermos protectively. Adrien laughed.

“I don’t think anyone but you would even be able to.”

They were silent for the rest of the trip to school.

...

Luka led Adrien to the garage. Their band, Toxic Jungle, practiced every other day in their drummer's house. There were four members: Luka Couffaine, the lead singer and guitarist; Godfrey Canard, the bassist; Lucas Coffin, the drummer; and now Adrien Agreste, the keyboardist. The band mainly performed original punk-rock songs, but they also covered quite a few Jagged Stone singles. When Adrien had confessed to Luka that he hadn't practiced very much since he'd given him the sheet music, Luka had just laughed. Typically no one practiced until they all met up. Apparently, that had been one of the previous keyboardist's pet-peeves, and one reason he'd ultimately quit the band. 

"Guys, I found us a new keyboardist," Luka entered the room, swinging the guitar off his back and flopped on a chair. He lazily strummed the strings while Adrien met the other members of the band.

Godfrey was shorter than the rest of the bandmates. He had shoulder-length blonde hair with about an inch of brown regrowth near the roots. His eyes were rimmed with piercing black eyeliner, and he wore finger-less leather gloves with fake spikes at the knuckles. A few months ago, the confident set of Godfrey's jaw and edgy clothes might have made Adrien think that the boy was dangerous. Then, he'd seen true danger in the form of one Marinette Dupain-Cheng and her family, and Godfrey's little show almost seemed childish. He glared at Adrien and cracked his knuckles, obviously trying to assert his seniority. Adrien had to stamp down his urge to flick the boy's nose and laugh. 

Lucas seemed more laid back. He wore a simple blue shirt and dark jeans. His short black hair had neon blue tips, but it was blended well into the rest of his hair. His eyes weren't as dark as Godfrey's, though he also wore a little eyeliner, and in general seemed much more friendly and open. 

"How'd you guys meet?" Lucas asked. 

"Oh, I was hanging out with some friends and we went to a music shop. Luka recognized my friend Marinette and they, uh, kind of started talking...I guess." Adrien wouldn't really call their exchange 'talking,' but Luka was right there, so what else was he supposed to say without potentially offending the guy? 

Lucas looked a little surprised. "Marinette the ex?" Adrien nodded. 

"You're friends with that Marinette?" Godfrey looked decidedly less neutral and more irritated by the mention of her. His expression made it clear that he didn't understand why Adrien would choose to be around her. "How? She's a total bitch." 

"She's fun to be around," Adrien said, trying to defend her without arguing with Godfrey less than three minutes after they'd met. He wasn't afraid of him, but Adrien didn't want to cause any more turbulence to a band which had just lost a member. 

"You guys should have seen her," Luka called from his corner. He strummed a strong chord on his guitar. "She was totally still into me. It would almost be embarrassing if I wasn't willing to take her back."

"So you're friends with Marinette, are you in her class?" Lucas asked casually. "Do you know a girl named Juleka?" Luka glanced up from his guitar and sent a look at Lucas. Adrien didn't know what that was about and he certainly didn't want to get into it. 

"Oh, yeah. I sit right behind her, actually. How do you know her?"

A loud minor chord rang from Luka's chair. "She's my little sister." Adrien shouldn't have been as surprised as he was; they had the same last name, and now that he looked closer, they had similar styles. Still, it was hard to imagine the outgoing, creative Luka being Juleka's big brother. She'd always seemed so quiet and reserved. Granted, Adrien didn't know her that well, but he just couldn't imagine her jamming out and sharing her heartfelt songs with everyone like Luka did. 

"And I'm a little into her." Lucas confessed. Luka looked a little uncomfortable with the idea of that, but didn't say anything. Lucas turned a hopeful look at Adrien: "Do a brother a favor and spread some good news about me?"

"Alright," Adrien agreed easily. He wasn't sure exactly what he'd say, or how much it would help, but he'd try.

"We should get started. My mom needs me back in a few hours to help with some chores or something." Luka stood and made his way to the sole microphone set up in the garage. He adjusted the height and looked at the rest of them: "Alright, let's start with a cover. Adrien, do you have the sheet music for A Little Lie?"

The band started and stopped every few minute. By the end of the two hour practice session, Adrien was sure he was playing worse than before.

...

Gabriel sighed as he went through more reports. More and more employees--talented employees--were leaving Agreste Industries for competing fashion houses. He understood, of course. They had better hours, better pay, and a more promising future (if the last year and seven months were any indication). He didn't begrudge them for leaving a company to which they really held no loyalty. He just wished they would stay. He needed the talent, he needed the visionaries, he needed...help. 

Ever since his wife had disappeared, he'd been less and less inspired to create himself, which left the fate of Agreste Industries in the hands of his employees. And now his employees were leaving after more than four quarters of bleak finances. He shuffled through the papers again. He had forms to fill out and resignations to accept. It was heartbreaking work. 

His phone dinged with an alarm. It was time for Adrien to have dinner. Gabriel stood and walked to the door, only to nearly run into Natalie. She simply stepped back and apologized, as unfazed by anything as ever. He smiled at her gently. At least he had her. Natalie had been his friend for years, since before he'd even met Emelie, and she'd been almost as close with Emelie as Gabriel had been. She'd been the maid of honor at his wedding, for Christ's sake. Sometimes it was nice to know that he had someone who missed Emelie as much as he did. 

"Sir...Gabriel, where are you going?" Natalie asked. Gabriel looked at his watch. 

"It's just past six-thirty. I haven't had dinner with my son in so long, I was going to join him." Gabriel moved around her and walked into the hallway. 

"We've got news from one of our partners," Natalie said quietly. "It might be best if you responded to them now and had dinner with Adrien tomorrow."

Gabriel looked down the hallway. How long had it been since he'd even seen his son? He knew Adrien was safe--Natalie made sure of that, he knew. But knowing Adrien was safe was different than talking to him, seeing it for himself. He remembered the days when Adrien was still young, back when things were so easy and simple. Didn't he deserve a little of that now? Hadn't he had enough suffering? Couldn't he have thirty minutes with his son--the same son who was nearly an adult?

"Gabriel, they're threatening to stop funding Project Indigo."

Gabriel hesitated for a moment more. Then he turned and went right back to his desk. Natalie brought him dinner a few minutes later. He didn't go to bed until well-past midnight.

...

Adrien paused his piano practice and looked towards his bed. Plagg padded over and jumped on the mattress.

“Yup, you’ve got a text. The unimpressed one has summoned you to dinner.”

Adrien pushed away from his piano and sighed. “Alright, I’ll go. I think I’ve got the song down for the most part, anyway. The concert’s a few days away, anyway, so I think I’ll be fine.”

Plagg snorted. “Compared to all the other pieces you’ve got in your repertoire, I’m pretty sure a few punk-pop songs will be easy.”

Adrien ruffled Plagg's head, and he hissed up at his partner. Adrien laughed before slowly making his way to the dining room. Though she’d 'summoned' him, as Plagg put it, Natalie wasn’t sitting at the table. Neither was his father. Shocking. He glanced out the window in the dining room. It wasn't snowing. It hadn't snowed since the Makara had showed up. But it was so cold the trees were freezing from the inside out, and frost lined the ground. 

He sat down in front of the only plate at the table and slowly started eating. He should have brought his phone. He should have known no one would be there. He should have been too used to it to still feel hurt by the loneliness.

Gorilla stepped into the room with a glass of water. He placed it in front of Adrien. “They forgot to give this to you.” Then he turned to leave.

“Wait,” Adrien just barely held himself back from grabbing onto Gorilla’s sleeve. “Can you sit with me?”

Never one to complain, Gorilla sat next to Adrien. He didn’t say anything, and neither did Adrien, but it was enough. Just the company was enough.

...

Cat Noir waited patiently on her balcony as Marinette scrambled around her bedroom, throwing clothes under her bed or into the drawers of her closet. She threw off her dumb fuzzy socks and slipped on an over-sized hoodie. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten Cat Noir would be coming! This was a disaster!

Cat Noir knocked at the slightly opaque glass door which led to her balcony. He only looked like a vague black smudge through the door.

“You know, you could just come outside?” he offered. “I don’t want to intrude in your room if you don’t want me there.”

He was so sweet, and so thoughtful. She used to gag at the idea of girls being attracted to guys who were like their dads, but it seemed to be true. The only person Marinette knew who was more wholesome than Cat Noir had proved himself to be was her own father, Tom Dupain. He was just as sweet as her dad, just as gentle, and just as nice. He respected her and her opinion, and he understood her jokes, he could figure out her moods, and he didn’t get frustrated if she forgot he was coming to talk to her.

Before he’d proven to be such a douchebag, Luka had seemed the same way. It was almost funny, that Marinette had a type that was so her opposite.

Marinette threw the balcony door open and invited him in. She promised herself she would never go through this embarrassment again. She’d put their meetings on a calendar or something. She’d mark the date, and invite Alix over to clean her room or something. This would not happen again.

“So, any news?” Cat Noir asked. He followed her movements as she fidgeted in front of him, awkwardly moving to her couch and kicking away some clothes she hadn’t noticed earlier.

“Nothing,” she sighed. “Sorry. But they’re still looking. My family is diligent, and they don’t forget.”

“If you trust them, I trust them,” he nodded. Then he glanced around the room and walked to one of her picture-coated walls. “Why do you circle these?” He was staring at a cluster of Agreste designs.

“I don’t understand them,” Marinette flopped onto her lounge chair and huffed, staring once more at the circled designs. “Agreste Industries is a wildly successful fashion house, and they make millions of dollars every year. I used to really look forward to their magazines and all their collections coming out. But lately, they’ve been releasing more and more designs which I just...don’t like.”

Cat Noir shot her a confused look and she flopped back, genuinely frustrated, and it came out in her voice. “The colors are basic, the pieces are lackluster, I’d say the silhouettes are classic if I wanted to be nice. It’s just...there’s no imagination. It looks like pretty pictures of someone showing off their clothes after they’ve just learned to construct--uh, that means made--some garments. It’s basic and boring, and I just don’t understand how designs like this are making millions of dollars. So, I put them on my wall to try and see if I can tap into that energy.”

Cat Noir stared at her for a second, and Marinette took a deep, calming breath. She was so tired, and getting worked up about a few boring, gray designs, wasn’t going to help her with anything. A ripping sound snapped her eyes open. She watched as Cat Noir tore down the circled designs from her wall, mouth hanging open.

“What the heck are you doing” She hissed. She wouldn’t lose her temper with him, especially not when her mom might overhear. “Put them back!”

“No,” Cat Noir headed towards the balcony. She followed him, but he was too tall for her to grab the images back from him. She forced herself to be gentle with him--she didn’t want to hurt him. But she also didn’t want to repurchase those magazines and hunt the designs down again.

“This is not funny,” she growled. “You’re a hero, you can’t go around stealing others’ property, especially mine!” He crumpled them in his hands and she glared at him. “Are you serious? How am I supposed to be able to properly study the designs if you’ve ruined the image?”

He frowned at the papers in his hands. “There’s nothing to understand here,” he mumbled. “Look into Agreste’s finances. You’re not the only one who doesn’t understand the designs. You’re really talented, Marinette. Don’t let some famous, rich, untalented people influence you. It’d be a real shame.”

He swung away, magazine pages in hand. Marinette knew she should probably be angry at him for something--the principle of stealing or something. She couldn’t bring herself to feel anything but extreme flattery. If Mei saw her now, she’d be laughing her ass off. The ever-irritable Marinette Dupain-Cheng, calmed by a few stolen papers and some nice words. If it wasn’t so sweet, it would be pathetic.

...

"This is exclusive footage of the latest Makara attack! Once again, a huge thanks to everyone who takes the chance to snap pictures or take videos and send them to me. I really do appreciate it, and you made my job so much easier when I have all the pictures available to me. Tonight's footage is from a police officer fan who allowed me to post footage from their body cam. It's really cool to see how much Ladybug and Cat Noir have grown as partners. It's easy to see how much Cat Noir trusts Ladybug when he doesn't even freak out as the Akuma smacks his staff away when he's falling down the Makara's back. The easy chemistry between them, and how easily Ladybug swoops in to catch him? I swoon. 

"As always, if you're reading this Ladybug or Cat Noir, thank you for your service, and good luck in your next battle!"

-Alya Cesaire

Author and Creator of the Ladyblog

“Is there something interesting out there, Mr. Kurtzberg?” Mrs. Mendeleiv narrowed her eyes at the only redhead in the room. “Something more interesting than my lecture?”

“Yeah, actually,” Nathaniel answered. The whole class turned to look at him. There were only so many people brave enough to talk back to the science teacher, and he was easily the funniest of them. “Almost everything out there. There's some grass in front. I've been watching it grow. Interesting stuff.”

Kim coughed out a laugh, but one glance at the unamused Max sitting next to him had Kim straight-faced again. Marinette gave Kim a sympathetic look, but he didn’t even glance her way. She turned back to the worksheet in front of her. She hadn’t been paying enough attention to fill it out herself, so she used Alya’s as a reference.

“That’s such a funny joke!” Mrs. Mendeleiv laughed. The class groaned; they all knew that tone of voice. Nathaniel was about to get in trouble again. “Why don’t you tell that same joke to Mr. Damocles?” She stopped her fake laughter and glared at her student. “Principal’s office. Now.”

“I would,” Nathaniel shrugged. “But I don’t know where that is.”

“You’ve been going every two weeks since school started,” Mrs. Mendeleiv tapped her foot on the ground impatiently. “And you’re telling me you forgot? Again?”

“Yeah,” Nathaniel grinned at her, a perfect mask of innocence. “What can you do, am I right?”

Mrs. Mendeleiv sighed and walked to the door. “Follow me.” Nathaniel got up, slowly packed his things, and sauntered to the door. He turned and winked at the class. Whatever anyone had to say about him, he was always willing to take some hits for the class.

The door closed and the class burst into loud conversation.

“Poor Nathaniel,” Alya frowned. “He keeps getting in trouble.”

Marinette scoffed and exchanged a glance with Nino. He shook his head and chuckled.

“Don’t feel too bad for him,” Nino said to Alya. “Mrs. Mendeleiv used to teach his dad and every time he pisses her off, he gets twenty bucks.”

“Really?” Alya asked, shocked. She lowered her voice . “How old is she?”

“She keeps dying her hair and getting injections of botox, so we can’t tell,” Nino said, disappointed. “I’ve always wondered, though.”

“Well, do you at least know what she did to his dad?” Alya now had that interested reporter look in her eyes.

“We’re not totally sure,” Marinette said. “But she definitely singled him out during her lectures and made him feel stupid, or something.”

“Speak for yourself,” A new voice popped up next to Marinette, and she rolled her eyes. “With enough money, you can figure anything out. Of course, a peasant like you wouldn't know that.”

“Chloe,” Alya greeted. “Do you know what Mrs. Mendeleiv did to Nathaniel’s dad?” Two blondes stood in front of the desk: Chloe and Adrien. Chloe leaned her hip on the desk and faced Alya completely. From across the room, Sabrina sent the table a hurt look and tried to talk to Mylene. Marinette did her best to ignore Chloe and turned to Adrien instead. She didn’t care about what happened to Mr. Kurtzberg, and she didn’t want to overhear Chloe saying something which would piss her off. Besides, Adrien wasn’t so bad.

“Adrien,” she greeted. He turned to her with hopeful puppy eyes. Alix mumbled something to Nino behind her, and Nino snickered. Kim pulled them into conversation from behind them, and they started talking about Kim’s upcoming swimming race against his cousin Ondine.

Adrien stepped away from Chloe, and towards Marinette. “Does this happen a lot?”

“Does what happen a lot?” Marinette asked, taking a sip of her almost empty thermos. She made a face. She was getting closer to the dregs, which was disappointing. Adrien gestured to the room around them. Juleka and Rose were hunched over a piece of paper together, speaking to each other quietly. Ivan timidly attempted to invite himself into Mylene and Sabrina’s conversation. Lila was sitting in her desk, where Max had wandered and was now talking to her. Kim glanced at Max every once in a while, but did his best to stay focused on his conversation with Alix and Nino.

“Teachers leaving the class alone because they’re afraid or annoyed?”

“Oh yeah,” Marinette nodded. “All the time. They didn’t used to, back when we were split up, but once they combined our classes together, we got to be too much for them so their patience and willpower runs out a lot faster than before.”

“Do you think they’ll get better about it?” Adrien looked worried. “By spring or something? It feels weird to be in school and not...learn.” Marinette’s lips quirked up of their own volition. He was such a goody-goody, it was adorable.

“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Marinette said. “Max is too much of a smart-alec, Nathaniel’s too much of a smart-ass, and Chloe’s too much of a bitch for the teachers to stay sane for too long.”

“Watch it, Dupain-Cheng,” Chloe said without any heat behind her words.

“Right,” Marinette nodded. “I meant Lila.”

Chloe agreed and turned back to Alya.

“Anyway, are you free later?” Marinette looked at Adrien. “You’ve been letting me come to school with you lately, and I figure I might take you out to lunch or something to pay you back.”

Adrien looked at her with bright eyes, expression open and shocked. He opened his mouth, a smile on his lips, but then something crossed over his eyes, and his face fell.

“I wish I could,” he mumbled. “But I can’t. I have a photo shoot later. I can’t miss it. My dad might be--” he cut himself off and shook his head a little. “I just can’t miss it.” He looked up at her, eyes pleading. “Maybe another day? On Saturday or something?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Marinette frowned. She would normally be fine with waiting a few days to see one of her friends, but there was something about Adrien’s expression which seemed too...off for her to leave him in good conscience. “I’ll just wait until your photo shoot is over, and we can do something after. Maybe I’ll see some dumbass from Agreste Industries and see if they knew anything about my stolen designs.”

“Yeah, you might find someone there,” Adrien said kindly, but Marinette could tell he didn’t think she would find anyone. She was about to snap at him not to patronize her when he poked her between her eyebrows.

“If you keep frowning like that, you’ll get premature wrinkles.”

She swatted his hand away, but took care not to frown again. “You sound like my mom.”

“You know," he suggested, "You could wear one of your designs and get the photographer to take a professional picture. You could use it for your portfolio.”

“That’s actually a really good idea!” she said, surprised. Who knew, Agreste had a brain in that pretty blonde head of his.  

“If you’re going to the photo shoot, you’ll see me posing in front of a photographer. Now, I’m no photographer, but I can see us together.” Marinette stared at him. Nino winced and shrugged sympathetically. Adrien blinked a few times, obviously flustered now. “Wait, let me try that again! I’m no photographer, but I can picture us together!”

Marinette shook her head a little. He tried so hard and failed so miserably, it was almost a little endearing. She pulled him down next to her. She took out her phone and snapped a picture of both of them together. It was cute, but Adrien was obviously not ready for it. He was looking down at her, mouth open like he was about to say something, and he was a little blurry since he was catching his balance from being tugged down so suddenly. He was so tall that the top of Marinette’s head only came up to his armpit. It was nice to be the good looking one in a picture with a professional model. She saved it to a new contact and handed him her phone.

“That can be your picture,” she said, “Now give me your number.”

“Wait, really?” A grin slowly overtook his face as he eagerly punched his number in her phone. He turned to Nino: “I told you it would work!”

“Pickup lines don’t work,” Marinette laughed, “But I need your number to find you later, in case I don’t find you right away.”

“Oh,” Adrien looked conflicted, like he wasn’t sure whether to be happy or disappointed. He evidently decided on happy. His mouth curved into an impish smile, and his eyes sparkled with patient delight. “Well, send me that picture and I’ll save it as your contact image. I’m excited--this is the first time I’ll have a picture of such a pretty girl on my phone.”

...

Luka held the door open for the rest of his band. They all walked into the small restaurant, instantly surrounded by a reprieve from the increasingly cold Parisian air. There was a charming chatter throughout the establishment, and a team of waiters were bringing out trays of soups, sandwiches, and pasta out of the kitchen. It smelled delicious, and Adrien couldn't wait to eat. He didn't understand the look Lucas and Godfrey shared as they all sat down in the booth the waitress led them to. She took their drink orders and left them to decide what they wanted from the menu.

Luka swung his guitar around his shoulder and started strumming. 

"Could you not?" Godfrey demanded. "Just once, could you leave it alone?"

"I wish I could," Luka hummed experimentally as his fingers danced across the neck of the guitar. "But when the spirit of music calls to you, you can't just ignore it."

"Tell it to leave a message," Lucas looked at the approaching waitress. "Tell it you're busy." 

Luka was about to respond when the waitress stood in front of them, asking if they had chosen what they wanted. The table was silent, so Adrien cleared his throat and pointed to a pasta dish on the menu. Lucas and Godfrey followed his lead and ordered, but they kept glancing at Luka. Adrien quickly found out why.

Luka ran through a simple chord progression and closed his eyes. The waitress looked at him, confused. Lucas hid behind his menu and Godfrey glared across the table. 

"Cold and dark,

is it in my heart,

or just the air outside?

A warmth inside,

maybe something liquid,

underground round,

liquid ground gold..."

Luka trailed off and opened his eyes. The waitress looked at him uncertainly. 

"So, you want the potato soup?"

Luka strummed his guitar again and sang in agreement. The waitress shook her head and walked away from the table. The four of them sat at the table, talking about the upcoming concert with varying levels of excitement. Adrien told Lucas that he'd been trying to hype him up to Juleka, but it wasn't working as well as Lucas had thought it would. Lucas didn't mind. He said he'd wait forever if Juleka would just give him a chance--he'd always liked her. He liked how well she listened, and how creative and sweet she was. Lucas had been ready to continue on, but Godfrey looked bored and Luka kept strumming his guitar and humming along uncomfortably, so Lucas left it alone. Adrien and Godfrey people-watched while Lucas and Luka talked about the logistics of their concert. 

Fifteen minutes passed, twenty minutes, thirty minutes. Luka looked around and waved over a waiter. 

"Can I help you?"

Luka strummed angrily at his guitar and patrons turned to see where the noise was coming from. 

"My stomach sounds like this," Luka said irritably as he picked an aggressive tune on the guitar, "But it feels like this!" There was silence. The waiter glanced at the three other boys at the table. Not one of them would meet his eyes. "It's empty." Luka explained. Adrien jumped in:

"We ordered about half an hour ago, so we were just wondering where our food was at?"

"Oh!" the waiter exclaimed. "Let me go check on that for you!" He was leaving before he'd finished speaking. Luka continued glumly plucking at his guitar until the food arrived. It was delicious, but Adrien was too embarrassed to actually savor his pasta. After splitting the bill and paying, the band mates left the restaurant. 

Everything was bathed in an ombre of warm colors as the sun set. The days were getting shorter now, and so much colder. Since the Makara had started attacking, Paris hadn't seen any snow, but in the winters the streets were lined with a permanent frost. Adrien tugged his jacket closer to him and pulled his scarf up higher, so that it almost covered his nose. Luka walked ahead of them, but Adrien hung back with Lucas and Godfrey. The scenes at the cafe ran through his head like a broken tape. It was becoming more and more obvious why Marinette had broken up with Luka.

"Why..." Adrien paused. "Just why?"

"Don't ask, brother," Lucas shook his head. "Understanding isn't possible."

"Does he--"

"Every time," Godrey growled. "Every goddamn time."

...

Adrien walked to the kitchen. He stepped in, and all the chefs turned to look at him. A few scolded him and told him to leave, but he had a request.

“Could you make another plate of food?”

There was a second of complete stillness, like the kitchen couldn’t comprehend the question. Adrien was about to repeat his request, but that proved unnecessary.

“A second plate?” someone called across the kitchen. “Do we have enough?”

“Don’t look at me,” A chef in front of Adrien crossed his arms and glared at the chef next to her. “I didn’t know he’d ask for more!”

“Well, who was in charge of meat? We need another one on the fire, now!”

With a task now laid in front of them, the kitchen was buzzing with noise, and a flurry of movement. Adrien glanced behind him and grinned at the uncomfortable bodyguard standing in his shadow.

“See, I told you it was no trouble.”

“You idiot!” the head chef yelled at a new line cook, face red. “We cook medium rare, never medium well! We do not kill the meat twice! Who hired you? Get out of my kitchen!” The line chef scampered out of the kitchen, with a few more experienced chefs telling him to be back the next morning, and that the head chef hadn’t meant it.

“I’d not call this ‘no trouble,’” Gorilla admitted. “But I’m looking forward to the beef wellington too much to complain now.”

Adrien and Gorilla walked back to the table. Adrien chattered about his day, and how well his concert with Luka’s band had gone. Gorilla had nodded in praise and approval. He’d even asked a few clarifying questions, which was clear progress. Adrien had kept the conversation up until Gorilla brought up Marinette, and noted that it was a bit difficult to see what Adrien liked about her. Adrien wasn’t ashamed of how he felt about her, but it was a little awkward spilling his heart out to his usually taciturn bodyguard.

Adrien clammed up at that point, and Gorilla had made it a point of recalling every interaction between them he’d seen. It was at times like this that Adrien missed when Gorilla didn’t speak at all.

...

"These are some pictures from the fight today! I love these types of pictures, where Ladybug or Cat Noir stays with the Akuma victims and talks to them, the most. It's hard to believe, but I was an Akuma victim once. After I was purified, Ladybug stayed and talked to me. She was the first high-profile person who deigned to take the time and answer all my questions. That talk with her inspired me to start the Ladyblog, actually! She's seriously kick-ass, as we all know, but it's nice to be reminded of her soft side, and that we can totally lean on her, like both the Akuma victim and Cat Noir are doing in this picture!

"As always, if you're reading this Ladybug or Cat Noir, thank you for your service, and good luck in your next battle!"

-Alya Cesaire

Author and Director of the Ladyblog

Marinette handed Adrien’s driver a muffin. He grunted in thanks. She noticed he didn’t talk much. At any other time of day, she would have thought him rude. This early in the morning, she appreciated his silence. She glanced at the gray skies above. Clouds had been hovering for a few days, and she was getting irritated waiting for the rain to come. She tugged her thick green jacket tighter around her. She climbed into the pedicab and sat next to Adrien, who was already munching on the croissant he’d bought. The driver started pedaling carefully; this was around the time people started to seriously slip and fall on the ice, and it was harder to see where the thick patches were on the road since the sun was starting to rise after school started.

She sat next to Adrien and unfolded the blanket her mom had packed for them, throwing it over their legs.

“Coffee?” she offered. He took a few sips wordlessly.

“I hate the taste of coffee,” he confided. She snatched it away from him, as close to offended as she'd ever been in her life. 

“Then why do you drink it?” she took a long sip, internally apologizing for all the ounces that had been wasted on Adrien’s untalented, ungrateful, uncultured palate.

“This is going to sound dumb,” Adrien warned. Marinette huffed, unwrapping her breakfast. “I like having a choice.” Marinette didn’t comment, so he continued. “I’ve had too much of my life decided for me already, it’s nice to be able to choose something for myself, especially when it’s something everyone else absolutely does not agree with.”

“Well, if it's for a little teenage rebellion, I guess I’m fine with you drinking some of my coffee.” Marinette took a bite of her muffin and immediately spat it out of the side of the pedicab. She pulled back inside of the covered pedicab.

“Woah,” Adrien raised an eyebrow. “Was it poisoned?”

“Worse,” Marinette glared at the muffin. “Raisins.”

“Oh?” Adrien had that tone of voice which usually led to a lame pickup line. “You don’t like raisins? Well what do you think of--”

“Of course I don’t like raisins!” Marinette shoved the muffin back in the brown paper bag her mom had packed for her. “They’re small and dry and they stick to your teeth, and they’re not even their own fruit! They’re just old, useless grapes which still need to be sold! How useless is that!”

“--dates,” Adrien finished lamely. Marinette wasn’t finished. He had brought the topic up, and she was going to let him know exactly what she thought.

“They might be fine when they’re in cereal, but that’s because they’re rehydrated with milk. How stupid is that? You dehydrate a fruit, and the only time it’s edible again is when you re-hydrate it!”

“Why are you so passionate about this?” Adrien sounded resigned. His driver chuckled a little in front of them both. She told him every single instance a raisin was acceptable, and when they weren’t. That somehow got her to the topic of fruit jerky, and freeze-dried berries. By the time they reached the front of the school, Adrien’s driver was shaking with laughter, and Adrien promised he’d never ask her about fruit ever again.

...

Gorilla sat at the dining table, waiting for him. Sometimes, that was all Adrien wanted. Sometimes, all he needed was the assurance that someone would be there for him for him to talk to.

...

Marinette smoothed her hair down and sat on a chair on her balcony. Goosebumps raised up and down her arms, and she pulled out a plush poncho to warm herself. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through the Ladyblog, trying to see anything new. Any minute now, Cat Noir would come for her bi-weekly report. And this time, she might just have something to report.

A black figure jumped from rooftop to rooftop in the distance. Her heart beat harder in her chest, and her face warmed a little. She tried to stop watching him as he came closer to her, but it was impossible to read whatever was on her phone.

Something heavy landed on her balcony, and Marinette jumped out of her chair.

“Hey there,” Cat Noir grinned down at her. Looking at him now, after she’d shown him a part of her she’d never planned on showing anyone, after she’d seen the asshole in him, she felt even closer to him than she had ever before. It felt less like infatuation, and more like she had a right to like him as much as she did. Before, he had been so kind and patient, it felt like he could have anyone, and it would have been fine. Now, she knew what he was like when he was furious, and deep in her heart, she knew she was the only one who could deal with him when he was like that.

(Even deeper down she knew this wasn’t true, but she usually chose not to think that much about it.)

“Cat Noir!” She smiled up at him. He looked oddly pleased about this, but Marinette didn’t want to question it. She had news. “My family found something.” That snapped him into business.

“They did?”

“A few of them went to the scene of the Makara attack a few days ago. The Makara left behind a few puddles of silvery substance, and the police didn’t pick up the vacuum cleaner Ladybug had created. They couldn’t get it to work, but they still tried to put it on top of the liquid, to see if maybe that could get it started or something. Nothing happened. The liquid didn’t even stick to the vacuum. It was like it wasn’t there. My cousins even touched the end of the vacuum--totally dry.”

“So…?” Cat Noir looked at her like she had all the answers in the world. She would forever deny it, but she’d purposefully left her statement blank so he would ask her to explain, so he’d think she was intelligent.

“So, no one but the Miraculous holder can use the magic. And, the Miraculous will nullify the effects of the Makara’s magic.”

“If Ladybug could somehow create a giant tarp, we might be able to save the streets of Paris from now on,” Cat Noir brainstormed. “Or at least some of it. And maybe she could make a mask, or goggles, and the advanced ones won’t affect us anymore!”

“Maybe.” Marinette didn’t even want to think about making a tarp big enough to cover a couple of blocks of Parisian streets.

She’d quickly learned that the bigger the object she created, the harder it was on her body. If she made something which could transform, it felt like caterpillars crawled inside of her skull. If she created large objects, her fingertips felt like they were burning off. The largest thing she’d made so far was a net to catch an Akuma, and that had been like holding her fingers above a fireplace. She didn’t see how it would be possible to create something as large as Cat Noir was imagining without burning off her fingers.

“I think this also means that you could use Cataclysm on anything the Makara leave on the city, and it might destroy it. You could get rid of Stress Street, and the silver puddles.”

“You said nothing happened when Ladybug’s Lucky Charm touched the puddles,” Cat Noir pointed out. “What makes you think Cataclysm would do anything?”

Wayzz’s words ran through her head. The Ladybug was designed for defense. Of course the Makara’s attacks wouldn’t affect her creations. The Black Cat was meant for attack; it would only make sense if his power could do damage to the Makara’s products. But he didn’t know what she knew. 

“I don’t know for sure,” she said carefully, “But I think it would make sense. Ladybug couldn’t find or destroy the Akuma’s weak points, but you can. Why wouldn’t you be able to get rid of the Makara’s special abilities?”

“I guess I can try it,” Cat Noir pursed his lips and looked out at the Parisian night. “Maybe tomorrow.”

Marinette went and stood by him, leaning on the railing next to him. She would normally be cautious of the rusting old barrier, but she felt completely at ease with her partner next to her. She knew that if she fell, he’d be there for her. He wouldn’t let her fall. She glanced at him. Too bad she’d already fallen.

“Since we’ve stopped using cars, the sky has looked beautiful,” Marinette noted. She took a deep breath and shivered. The newspaper insisted that it was now spring, but the weather hadn’t yet gotten the memo. She wrapped her arms around herself and studied the mottled colors in the sky.

She had once gone camping with her dad when her mom went to visit friends in Italy. They’d stayed up late and stargazed for hours. The sheer number of stars had astounded Marinette, as had the patchwork of colors in the sky. It hadn’t been a simple indigo sky, but rather a tie-dye of pinks, purples, and blues. The varying brightness of the stars had illuminated the beauty of the sky even more, and it had all taken Marinette’s breath away.

Paris’s sky was nowhere near as magical as the sky in country, but after almost two years without cars, trucks, or busses, the air felt much cleaner, and there were more stars to see in the sky.

“Yeah,” Cat Noir mumbled next to her. “You know, my mom once took me to the countryside. She had a business meeting there, and she took me along. She let me play all day while she worked. After night fell, I convinced her to stargaze with me. She actually lay next to me and told me a bunch of stories from when she was younger. It was one of the best memories I have with her.”

They stayed out for a while longer, not talking about anything of real importance. Around ten, Cat Noir left, and Marinette went inside. Tikki tried to get her to sleep, but inspiration had struck. She worked for a few hours, until her back ached. Only then did she let Tikki guide her to her bed.

...

"Today's video is thanks to some cameras my friend Max Kante. He let me have some cameras and I've placed them all around the city so that we could have unique and totally exclusive images of the fights, the Makara, the Akuma, and, of course, our Parisian heroes! Sometimes the cameras allow us to get one of a kind pictures like the one in this collection of Ladybug posing like a real-life action figure as she jumps off the Makara. Other times, it gives us the hardship behind the fight, which we see in the image of Cat Noir getting slammed into the Makara's side by a particularly vicious Akuma. It should give us more appreciation of all the heroes do for us. 

"In other news, Cat Noir seems to have figured out how to get rid of the remaining effects of the Makara. He's slowly been Cataclysming the fragrant weeds left behind by the Makara. He's slowly getting rid of Stress Street. Ladybug has also been making progress. A few of you noted that the heroes seem to flee the scene as soon as they use their power, but Ladybug seems to have powered through this and can now use Lucky Charm twice before leaving. She's been making incredibly large yoga-mats to cover both the silver puddles left behind by the Makara, as well as the acidic puddles left by the slimy, pink Akuma from a few months ago. I'm so proud of our heroes!

"As always, if you're reading this Ladybug or Cat Noir, thank you for your service, and good luck in your next battle!"

-Alya Cesaire

Author and Director of the Ladyblog

"I just saw the video! If Cat Noir ever wants to retire as a super hero, at least we know he has a career as a gardener guaranteed!"

-Guest

The winter chill permeated the air, and the frozen grass crunched beneath the class's feet. Breath puffed out of the studen'ts mouths, completely visible in the air. Everyone grumbled as they completed yet another circuit around the school. They passed a winter-struck garden. It was a beautiful mixture of barren branches and ice crystals. It was usually a source of inspiration for Marinette. Nature was the one muse which kept on giving. If she observed, she could always find new patterns, textures, or color-combinations she hadn’t yet thought of. However, being forced to walk around her school when it was literally freezing outside tended to suck the enjoyment and beauty out of the scenery. Adrien trudged next to her. Max was complaining to Kim about Nathaniel’s 'out of control behavior.'

“He’s normally just a nuisance in class,” Max huffed. “If he wants to waste his own academic life and leave class every day, that’s his prerogative, but when his attitude affects all of his classmates, that is where I draw the line!”

Max continued to criticize him. Kim listened, but didn’t say anything, whether in agreement or disagreement, about the matter. Marinette certainly didn't agree with him. If she wasn't trying to be extra nice to Max for Kim, she would have told him exactly what she thought--that it wasn't Nathaniel's fault that the witch had them walking around the school until they made a ditch. It wasn't Nathaniel's fault that she was punishing everyone for his actions. And it definitely wasn't Nathaniel's fault that Max had forgone wearing a hat, gloves, or a scarf that morning. 

Marinette sped up, and Adrien followed, staying firmly by her side. They passed by Juleka, Nathaniel, and Alya. 

"So, you started your ASMR channel as a dare?" Alya investigated. 

"Well, yeah," Juleka mumbled. Nathaniel draped his arm over her shoulders. 

"I'm glad she did," he said. "I love listening to her videos. So does Mylene. The keyboard one is my favorite--I listen to it while I draw."

"You know who else likes your ASMR channel?" Adrien piped up. Juleka jumped before turning to face him. "Lucas." 

"Lucas Coffin?" Juleka questioned. Adrien nodded. She didn't say anything after that. Alya had turned her attention to the ever-talkative Nathaniel and was grilling him about his art: How had he started? What did he draw? Did he post his work online? Where?

Nathaniel answered eagerly, only too happy to have the attention his work deserved. 

Adrien reached down and grabbed Marinette’s thermos and took a few sips of coffee. He handed it back to her, and they continued circling the school.

“Hey, Marinette,” she looked up at him. He was grinning down at her and she prepared her eyes to roll. “Do you know what my shirt’s made out of?”

“Cotton,” she said immediately. Adrien’s face crumpled.

“...boyfriend material.”

“Stop that. Drink more coffee.” She handed him the thermos and he walked sullenly next to her as she trudged through the unbearably cold winter morning for another ten minutes. Every once in a while Adrien would tell Juleka something else about Lucas, but for the most part, the class walked in silence. It was too cold for more energy to be expected. 

Eventually, Mr. Damocles flew out of the building--literally. A few days ago there had been an Akuma which was able to turn people into animal hybrids. Before she and Cat Noir had been able to purify the Akuma, it had transformed a few unfortunate people, including her principal. Now the man was permanently half owl. He'd never made the slightest indication that he was unhappy about his condition--in fact, he seemed to like it. Mr. Damocles swooped in front of the class and landed on a barren tree. He hooted at Mrs. Mendeleiv to bring the students back inside until she finally acquiesced.

...

Marinette had never been a curious person. She usually let people mind their own business and stayed out of it (or at least, she thought so). She tried not to ask too many questions about peoples' pasts, or families, or why they were having a bad day. She knew the importance of secrecy, and she didn't want to put someone in a position they had to lie. Sometimes, though, it was impossible to stay out of it. There were people in her life which she knew wouldn't fight for themselves, so when they were hurt, she stepped in, or asked if they needed her for something.

Nino was one such person; he was so easy-going and kind that he never wanted to stand up for himself in case it caused friction. Marinette was never one to fear a fight, so whenever she saw her childhood friend suffering at the hands of anyone, she stepped in and helped him out. 

Kagami was another such person. For all that the girl was totally kick-ass, she was entirely too polite to put others in their place, especially her mother. So, Marinette took it upon herself to help her friend, and try to get Mrs. Tsurugi to see reason. (She'd been working on that for years, and she still hadn't gotten any results, but Marinette Dupain-Cheng was no quitter.)

She didn't have many other people to fight on the behalf of. Sometimes her friends talked to her about their problems, but that wasn't very common; they usually went to someone more level-headed and fair, like Alix or Nino. She never forced others to tell her their problems, she always let them come to her; it was a personal rule. 

Climbing into Adrien's pedicab, seeing his down-turned face and absent minded finger-twiddling, she found herself breaking that rule. 

"Are you ok?" she asked. She'd known him for a while, and she could comfortably call them friends, now, even if he kept trying out new pickup lines on her for whatever reason. He took her to school every morning and she gave him coffee and they talked in school and stuff and they had a surprising amount in common. She'd found herself opening up to him faster than she would have expected. He was nice and endearing and a little awkward at times, but he was a good person. And now it looked like he needed her to beat someone up for him. "If someone's giving you a problem, tell me. I'll take care of it for you."

Her mom would be proud. Three sentences and not a single glare. 

"No, I'm fine," Adrien finally glanced away from the window of the covered pedicab to look at her. "It's just...the band broke up. Toxic Jungle, I mean."

Marinette paused. This didn't seem like bad news. It seemed like a great thing, actually. Why was he so sad, then? "And that's...bad?"

"Well," Adrien looked up, considering his words. "It was an interesting time. I finally got to play music I liked, and I could say I was in a band. Also, Luka kept talking about you. I heard a lot."

"Don't listen to anything that jack-ass said," Marinette snapped. "He's an asshole and didn't know me at all. If I never saw him again in my entire life, it'd be too soon."

"I spent a lot of time with him, Lucas, and Godfrey," Adrien said. "I totally understand now why you broke up with him. We went to a restaurant--"

"Oh no," Marinette groaned. "Did he sing out his order?"

"No, he seems to have evolved since you guys went out. He composed a verse for the dish he wanted and the waitress had to guess what he meant. And when it took too long for the food to arrive, he sang at the waiters." Adrien paused and leaned closer to her. "I don't think you understand, Marinette. I've had the craziest six weeks of my life. He sang at the waiters about being hungry. Not to them--at them. And he kept making me listen to how he thought I felt inside."

"So Godfrey got tired of it all and quit?" Marinette guessed. "I'm not surprised. He's been putting up with this bullshit for a year now. I'm actually shocked he lasted this long."

Adrien shook his head. "No, Lucas finally asked Juleka on a date and she said yes, so he quit, which made Godfrey quit, and I wasn't going to be left alone with Luka, so I quit, too." Adrien pulled the thermos from Marinette's hands and took a sad sip. "Still, it was interesting. I haven't had much chance to actually meet a lot of people, you know. My parents have always been really protective, and the only reason I was able to go to public high school now was because I enrolled myself before my dad could tell me 'no.' He constantly tells me what to do, and he doesn't even say it himself, he gets his personal assistant to do it. It was nice to have an activity I'd chosen for myself."

"Well, then come over to my house. You can be my personal model, and if you want to do something musical, play some atmospheric music at the bakery."

Adrien finally smiled at her. That was odd. She only just noticed that she really hadn't seen him that morose before. She liked it better when he had a smile stuck on his face. It made him light up, like he was literally glowing from the inside out. Without the smile, he looked dim and defeated and tired. It was really not his look. 

She would tell him that her parents would be able to pay him, and what she wanted from a male model later in the day. Right then, she was content to sit back in comfortable silence.

...

Gabriel barely mustered up the energy to get up from his stiff office chair. He crossed the room and dropped onto the futon. It had replaced the sleek leather couch a few weeks ago. He pulled off his dress shoes, glasses, and suit jacket. He lay down. The second his head hit the cheap pillow, he was asleep. 

Natalie walked into the room just as Gabriel's phone dinged to remind him to have dinner with Adrien. She turned it off, pulled a blanket over Gabriel, then shut the lights as she left. 

...

“I found a website the other day,” Gorilla said. It was becoming less shocking when Gorilla started conversations on his own. “It’s called the Ladyblog. You should look it up, it’s quite informative and easy to navigate. My niece showed it to me. I think you’d like it.”

“Actually, my friend Alya is the one who runs the Ladyblog,” Adrien said. “I didn’t know you had a niece.”

“Her name is Genevieve,” Gorilla said.  “I’ll have to tell her that you know Alya Cesaire. She’ll probably follow you around until you introduce her to your friend, then.”

“I’m sure Alya would be more than happy to talk to one of her fans,” Adrien encouraged. “And I wouldn’t mind having her around. How old is she?”

“Almost nine,” Gorilla shook his head in amusement. “She’s obsessed with Ladybug. She says she wants to grow up to be just like her.”

“Ladybug’s alright,” Adrien said noncommittally.

“Can you think of a better role model for a young girl?” Gorilla challenged. Then he rolled his eyes. “Other than your little girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend yet,” Adrien argued. “And besides, how is Ladybug a good role model? She’s a little…” Adrien trailed off. What exactly did he not like about his partner? She was always there for him, and she tried her best. She was rude and harsh, but she was usually just pumped full of adrenaline, and it wasn’t like he was always a perfect gentleman when he was suited up. Sometimes she got in his way, and she stumbled or stuttered every once in a while, but she was human. He’d surely gotten in her way multiple times before, too. Why exactly did having her as a role model make him uncomfortable?

“A little?” Gorilla prompted. Adrien pursed his lips. She was too good at making him feel unnecessary.

“She’s an unrealistic goal,” Adrien finally said. “She’s too powerful, and too reliable, and too good at what she does. Is that really such a good role model?”

“There’s no better type,” Gorilla said. “She’s human, and she makes mistakes, I’m sure, but it sure is hard to point out when she’s putting her life on the line for the good of Paris. She’s a nice figure to look up to, especially when you’re a young girl. Same with Cat Noir, of course, but Ladybug has been here longer.”

“Right.” Adrien continued to eat, and Gorilla let the subject go.

...

“This is for you,” Marinette held out a bracelet to Cat Noir as soon as he landed. It was an almost complete circle, made completely out of sterling silver. It had taken forever to make. Marinette usually didn’t work with jewelry, but when the inspiration struck, she had the materials to create what her imagination guided her to. “The constellation is Leo,” she told him. “You’re a cat, you know, so I thought it was fitting. Also, I’m a Leo. So, if you wear it, you can think of me.”

She refused to be embarrassed. She absolutely refused.

Cat Noir took the bracelet from her, looking completely awed. “For me?” He looked up at her. “You’re sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Marinette led him inside. She didn’t have any news for him, but she was hoping he’d have enough time to watch a movie with her, or at least let one run in the background as they talked. “I kept thinking about what you said last time, and I really wanted to make something for you which had to do with stars. So take it and say thank you.”

“Thank you,” Cat Noir said automatically. “Wait, you made this?”

“Of course,” Marinette frowned at him. “I don’t buy things anymore. It’s never exactly what I want, and it’s a waste of money. I make whatever I want to wear, and I make any presents I need for my friends, too.”

“You’re amazing,” he said, slipping the bracelet on his wrist.

“It fits,” Marinette grabbed his hand and studied the fit of it, pleased. She hopped up onto her bed and patted the empty space next to her. Cat Noir obliged and sat next to her. He asked if they could watch an action movie he’d recently heard about. When she questioned him about it, he admitted that he wasn’t very interested in the idea, but he knew she probably would be, so he wanted to watch with her.

She rented the movie and they watched it in companionable silence. Every once in a while, Marinette would laugh at some ridiculous action sequence, or Cat Noir would grouse about the lack of emotional buildup in the plot.

The two hours were over too quickly, and he had to leave. He promised to be back in two weeks and he was off. Marinette noted the upcoming date in her new desk planner.

...

"I think these pictures speak for themselves, but can I just say? Ladybug is my idol.

"As always, if you're reading this Ladybug or Cat Noir, thank you for your service, and good luck in your next battle!"

-Alya Cesaire

Author and Director of the Ladyblog

….

Chapter Text

Marinette frowned at Kim. They were in the park, right next to a small grove of evergreen trees. He was wearing a pair of flannel-lined jeans, a light orange shirt, and a custom-made jacket. He looked great, but he wasn’t working it like she wanted him to. She held her camera up to her eyes and looked at the composition of the picture again.

“No,” She shook her head and took her eye away from the camera. She pursed her lips, examining him. “Turn towards me a little more. I want the design of the shirt in the picture.”

Kim shivered and frowned at her, well on his way to becoming irritated. He ran his hands through his hair, but at least he didn’t mess with his clothes. “You told me to look to the right, so I’m looking to the right. Now you want me to look at you? In case you didn’t notice--you’re on the left. Make up your mind, woman, you’re infuriating!”

Marinette rolled her eyes and raised the camera up again. “Shut up, just keep your feet pointed in that direction and twist your torso this way. It’s not that hard.” Honestly, he was so incompetent. Maybe she had been spoiled since she’d been working with a professional model for a few days, but she couldn’t remember Kim’s photo shoots being nearly this frustrating before.

Kim sighed and glanced around the park. He blinked and pointed behind her, noticeably happier than a moment before. “Look, there’s Adrien! He’s a professional model--just get him to do this for you.”

Normally, that would be great. She would have jumped on that idea, if it weren’t for one small problem. “That won’t work, I tailored these clothes for you, and I’m not going to upload pictures of badly fitted clothes on my website.”

“The fact that he’s with Sabrina and Chloe wouldn’t bother you, right?” Kim asked. Marinette frowned. A lot of things bothered her, but a couple of spoiled girls were little more than a slight inconvenience.

Lately, Chloe had kept her mouth shut around her and had just spoken with Alya, if she’d come near Marinette. She’d been leaving Sabrina behind, so Marinette didn’t have to deal with her. Even if they were together, even if there was no Alya to buffer the nastier of Chloe’s comments, the thought of them didn’t intimidate Marinette at all. Kim should know that.

“Of course not, why would it?”

Kim grinned at her and waved enthusiastically, calling loudly: “Hey, Adrien!”

Marinette turned and saw the tall blonde and two shorter girls spot them and eagerly walk towards them. Sabrina almost slipped on some ice, but Chloe caught her.

Marinette narrowed her eyes. She was fine with all of them, and Adrien was now her friend. But she had a feeling that Kim was calling them over so Adrien could take his spot modeling the clothes she’d made. He wouldn’t get out of this so easily. “Kim, shut up!”

Kim shot her a look. “Hey, Adrien, come here. I need some advice!”

The three of them approached and Adrien settled at her side, hands on his hips. She looked over his clothes. Basic jeans, basic shirt, quality jacket, classy shoes. The outfit was acceptable, but boring. She snapped a picture of him anyway. He looked good, and she could put the photo in her scrapbook she was making. He grinned down at her, but turned to Kim:

“What’s up?”

Kim sighed dramatically, but he didn’t move from his spot. Good. He could complain all he wanted, but she would be pissed if he messed with the pose which had taken him fifteen minutes to figure out. “Marinette forced me to do a photo shoot of all the clothes she’s made for her. I thought it’d be fun, but she’s a slave driver and nothing I do is right. She keeps changing her mind about what she wants,”

“Classic photographer,” Adrien sympathized, looking at Kim.

“I’m not changing my mind!” Marinette said hotly. She scoffed and turned to Adrien: “I know exactly what I want, he’s just doing it wrong.”

Kim rolled his eyes and strode to her side, wrapping her in a hug and lifting her up. “You just can’t accept that it might be you who is the problem, here?”

“You asshole!” She glared down at him. “It took you forever to just stand there like that, now we’re going to have to start all over. Why the hell are you so annoying--do you find pleasure from making my life harder than it already is?”

“Careful,” Kim dropped her. “Your inner Sabine is showing.” She scowled at him, but when Adrien poked between her eyebrows, her expression eased up.

“Look at them,” Chloe used her hands to frame Kim and Marinette together. She turned to look at Sabrina. “I’ve been telling them they’d be the perfect couple for years. Aren’t they just adorable together, Sabrina?”

Marinette and Kim exchanged amused glances. Chloe had gotten the idea in her head from a young age that all the Asian kids should be paired off. It was one of the reasons she, Alix, and Kim were so close now. For a while Chloe had tried to get Alix and Kim to kiss, but she’d quickly given up when Marinette drew a wedding dress. She’d made Kim and Marinette play wedding for two weeks before the two of them simply started to run away any time they saw her approaching.

Adrien looked at the two of them, confused.

“Yeah,” Sabrina nodded. “I’d kill to have a boyfriend like Kim.” Kim smiled uncomfortably, and Marinette frowned at him, concerned. She glanced at Chloe and Sabrina. Her lips pursed.

“Oh, I thought…” Adrien trailed off and looked at Kim. Marinette raised an eyebrow at him. It was meant to be an encouragement, to get him to keep speaking, and he took it for what she’d intended it to be. “I might be totally wrong, and I’m sorry if I am, but I thought you...liked guys?”

“Nah, you’re right,” Kim said. “I just haven’t...officially come out yet, you know? But it’s not like I’m ashamed of it or anything.”

“You’re gay?” Chloe’s jaw dropped. Marinette looked at her with narrowed eyes. She glanced at Kim, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. If he gave her the slightest indication, she’d jump in in a second.

Sabrina shook her head and sighed. “At least we still have our imagination. You can be mine in my dreams, Kim.” She looked Kim up and down. Marinette had to physically bite her tongue to keep silent, and shoved her camera in Adrien’s hands, just in case. “What a waste.”

“Are you serious?” Marinette growled. “What does that even mean--‘what a waste’--he is who he is, and it’s not like he owes you anything. You haven’t spoken to him in years and this is the first thing you have to say? You don’t know him, how dare you judge him just from the people he likes?”

Sabrina leaned towards Chloe: “Look at that. He can’t tell anyone that he’s gay, and now he can’t even speak up for himself. What a loser.” Chloe laughed a little and glanced to the side. Marinette glared at her, but she wasn’t looking, so she turned back to Sabrina.

“He’s just too shocked by your utter bitchiness to say anything,” Marinette shot out, stepping in front of Kim, and towards Sabrina. “I, on the other hand, expected nothing more from you. What the hell right do you have to say about him. If he doesn’t tell anyone, that’s none of your business--leave him alone, and get out of my face!”

“It’s not like I’m even talking to you,” Sabrina retorted, looking down her nose at Marinette. “You’re always so nosy, and such a hypocrite--take your own advice, why don’t you? Mind your own business!”

“What, it’s normal for you to chain yourself to your friends--oh, sorry, friend--but I can’t speak up when you’re bullying my friend?” Marinette demanded, taking a step closer to them. “Yeah, newsflash, I stand by my friends. It’s called being a decent human being.”

Chloe grabbed Sabrina’s arm and pointed:

“Look! There’s the ice cream guy I was telling you about. He’s like, magic or something, and he can tell you your soulmate.” She paused and glanced at Kim. “He’d have a tough time with Kim, though. If he’s not willing to own up to who he likes, how could he possibly find someone to like him?”

“What’s it to you who he tells and who he doesn’t? You’re not even his friend. Just walk away!”

“Pathetic.” Sabrina clicked her tongue. She and Chloe sauntered away. Marinette shook with restraint. She was trying her best to temper her fury, but she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. Where did Sabrina go off judging Kim like that. She didn’t even know him! She hadn’t spared him more than two looks in four years, and now she was suddenly the expert on him--calling him pathetic and a loser? She had no right. Chloe hadn’t said much, but she had laughed a bit, and in a way, she’d started it all. Most egregious, though, was the one who’d said nothing.

“Sorry about Chloe,” Adrien sighed. “She doesn’t mean to come off so...I don’t know. She’s just going through a lot right now.”

She turned and glared at Adrien. He stepped back, shocked. Kim reached for Marinette’s arm.

“Marinette, don’t--”

She pulled away from Kim. “Shut up, Kim,” she said lowly. She stayed silent for a moment, the words bubbling up in her mind and resting at the tip of her tongue. Then, she took a deep breath. Adrien was her friend. She couldn’t just yell at him; that wouldn’t help him. She licked her chapped lips: “Adrien, it’s nice that you’re loyal to your friend.” Her voice shook with contained anger. “But Chloe isn’t the only person in the universe; she’s not the only going through anything. Talking to her, telling her to get off her high horse won’t make you a terrible friend, it’ll just make you better.”

She worked to relax her face, but she had a feeling she was still scowling. She turned away from Adrien and grabbed Kim’s arm. She said a stiff good-bye to Adrien and pulled Kim towards her house. They walked carefully over the ruined and frozen streets. Kim looked at her.

“Do you think they’re right?” he asked.

“No!” Marinette said vehemently. “They don’t know you, they don’t know how hard it was for you to come to terms with who you are, or how many nights you’ve had to spend the night at my place when your parents kicked you out of your own house. You can go at your own pace, and do things like you want, and it has nothing to do with them at all!”

“I just...can’t help but agree with them when they called me a loser,” Kim stopped in the center of the street. Marinette stood in front of him. “I’ve liked Max for years now, and he doesn’t even know I’m gay. I keep telling myself I’m not ashamed of who I am anymore, but if I can’t confess who I am to the person I like, if I can’t tell him I like him, aren’t they right? Isn’t that pathetic?”

“It’s not pathetic, you idiot,” Marinette punched Kim on the hip. “Don’t let their words get to you. But if you want to tell him--if you want to tell him--I’ll be by your side.”

“Yeah,” Kim smiled down at her, rubbing his hip. “Yeah, I know. Thanks.”

Marinette and Alix stood with their backs to the wall, right by a corner in the hallway. Around the bend, Kim was stuttering to Max. He’d decided he was going to tell him, and Marinette had told him she’d be there for him if he wanted moral support. He’s also told Alix his plans, and now the two girls were eavesdropping on one of the biggest confessions of Kim’s life so far.

“So, I guess I’m just trying to tell you that I’m gay,” Kim finally ended his ramblings and got to the point. Marinette could imagine him, red-faced and looking at the one hair in Max’s eyebrow which stuck out. She could imagine him holding unnaturally still to hide how nervous he was. She could only imagine how apprehensive he was.

“Oh,” Max said. “Are you...out, to anyone else? Am I the first person you’ve told?”

“No, I, uh. Marinette and Alix know. So do their families. Nino might know, I don’t know.”

“And, we must not underestimate the investigative abilities of one certain Alya Cesaire,” Max pointed out, a smile in his voice. This was good--it was definitely going better than Kim had thought it would.

“Yeah,” Kim let out a relieved, breathy laugh. “That, uh...that’s not all.” Kim took a deep breath. Alix and Marinette exchanged glances; this was it. “I like someone. Uhh...you. I like...you.”

There was a silence. Marinette tried to peek around the corner, but Alix pulled her back. Nathaniel and Mylene walked down the hallway. They were about to turn the corner, but Marinette blocked the way and held a finger to her lips. They both stayed silent and hid with Alix and Marinette.

“That...is very flattering,” Max said finally. Alix winced, and Marinette clenched her fists. He was rejecting Kim. Kim would be heartbroken. “I apologize, but I do not like members of the same gender,” Max sounded flustered, almost a little apologetic. Then, he added hesitantly: “Could we still be friends?”

Chloe’s voice came from around the corner, and Alix couldn’t keep Marinette from looking around the corner this time. Chloe looked a little surprised, but then pouted at Kim, trailing a finger down from her eye over her cheek.

“You got rejected?” She sounded like she was almost laughing. Alix and Nathaniel strained to keep Marinette back, but they were still sliding along the tile floors. Chloe continued: “Are you surprised? Why would Kante like a loser like you? You didn’t even have the courage to tell him who you were until Sabrina talked to you in the park and Dupain-Cheng came to your defense like a white knight. Now that you’ve--”

An alarm rang through the city, through the halls of the highschool. Mr. Damocles’ altered voice sounded through the sound system, requesting the students walk out in an ordered fashion. As had been happening more and more lately, the students actually listened. It was like a fire alarm. The first couple of months the students heard it, they freaked out. The more the Makara attacks happened, the less they sensed they were actually in danger. This was stupid, of course. Marinette knew first hand exactly how dangerous both Makara and Akuma could be, especially since there was no way to reverse the effects of the Akuma yet.

Chloe ran past them, which spurred Nathaniel and Mylene into action. Marinette ran around the corner and grabbed Kim and Max. “Come on, we have to go!”

“Were you there the whole time?” Max questioned, stumbling to keep up with the two most athletic students in class. Marinette threw him at Alix and turned to Kim, about to tell him something, to give him a quick word of comfort before they continued to the bunker. Her voice died in her throat. A white butterfly was landing on his jacket (no, damnit, she’d just made him that one!) and he changed right in front of her.

She saw the long hairs grow from his skin, and the red glow appeared around his eyes. Wings sprouted from his back, and an extra pair of hands burst from his chest. He doubled over, in obvious pain from the ongoing transformation.

“Akuma!” she screamed. “Get out, get out! Akuma!”

With the frenzy of middle aged women shoving their way to the first rack of clothes on Black Friday, the students of Francois-Dupont High school booked it to the exits. Mr. Damocles’s voice continued to hoot instructions to the student body. Marinette spotted Mrs. Bustier trying to hide in the crowd of students.

Kim screamed, his voice unrecognizable. Sabrina ran by him, coming out of nowhere. Marinette ran towards her, curses shoving each other as they escaped her mouth in an endless string. She grabbed Sabrina’s hand, but it was too late. Kim got to her. He shoved Sabrina to the side, and Marinette watched in horror as Sabrina began to disappear.

Kim’s wings spread and he shot into the sky. As he tore through the roof, the alarms in the school joined the alarms of the street. The sound was deafening, but somehow diluted. Marinette watched as Sabrina phased completely away from her eyesight.

“Sabrina?” Marinette called. Students ran past her, but Marinette shoved them away from her. She heard a distinctly ‘Sabrina’ squeak in front of her. “Where are you?” Marinette asked.

“Right in front of you, where the hell do you think I--ahhhh!”

Evidently, she’d just realized she was invisible. Marinette didn’t have time for this. She had to go to the Makara and purify Kim. She reached towards Sabrina. It took a few seconds of blind grabbing, but she found the girl curled on the floor. Marinette pulled her to her feet.

“Get over yourself!” Marinette snapped. “Cry later, safety now!” She pushed Sabrina in front of her and started running to the nearest bathroom. She kept looking over her shoulder. Sabrina was invisible. She could be anywhere, even following her; she could see her transform. This was so utterly irritating, Marinette scowled.

People kept trying to push her, but she fought through them, making it to the bathroom.

“Spots on!” In a flash, she was Ladybug. She swung out of the school. “Tikki, is the Makara advanced?”

“Nope! Isn’t that nice? They’ve all been so advanced lately, it’s been a real pain.”

Marinette didn’t say anything and swung around the city. The Makara was in the process of destroying the football field when she arrived. It had a snake head attached to a badger-like body. Instead of feet, there were slippers like a seal. The body was covered with thick scales, and it had a flat beaver tail. Any time the tail slapped the ground, the ground shook, and the buildings nearby swayed precariously.

She threw her yo-yo at a particularly tall building and launched herself in the air, aiming herself so she would land on the Makara. Her feet led the way, and wind whistled through the air. She shot like an arrow at the creature. Cat Noir propelled himself towards the Makara from another angle, but it didn’t do anything to distract the creature. The Makara saw her and swung its head at her. It smacked her like a bat and she found herself flung in the opposite direction.

She flailed in the air, throwing her yo-yo to the side, willing it to catch onto something, anything. It caught and Marinette’s arm practically popped out of the socket at the sudden stop. She swung around, trying to make her way back to the Makara.

The alarms continued blaring through the city. She pulled herself through the city faster. Her dad would be devastated if the Makara completely destroyed the field.

A body came out of nowhere and knocked into her. Her hands grabbed at whatever it was, and the two of them crashed into a building. Marinette’s back hit a wrought iron balcony, and she hissed in pain. She blinked away the stars swimming in front of her eyes, hands still clenched in what was surely the Akuma. It was screaming in her ears.

The Makara’s tail hit the ground, and she heard a building fall. Wind flowed through the streets, bringing with it the dust of the collapsed structure. Marinette let go with one hand and pulled herself onto the actual balcony. The Akuma twisted to fly away. She grabbed his wings, hooked her legs on the balcony, and pulled him back.

He wasn’t like the previous Akumas, though. He was significantly more fit than the rest had been in human form, and that carried over to the Akuma body. His wings continued to flutter, even as Marinette held onto them. He strained, and Marinette found herself in the air, legs tangled in a broken balcony. She twisted and kicked the iron bars off of her. She pulled herself up and kicked straight up, into his solar plexus. His extra set of arms caught her and attempted to throw her off. She let go, allowing herself to fall for a moment.

She pulled out her yo-yo, throwing it and wrapping it around his legs. Her shoulder screamed in protest, but she had to fight through it, or she would die. He continued flying, but he was clearly irritated by the constraint. He pulled at it, and she threw her weight to the side, trying to steer him. It didn’t work, but it did get her on top of an apartment building. She planted her feet and called on the extra strength Tikki’s magic could give her. She felt the warmth slowly trickle through her arms, down her legs to her feet. She stood, she pulled, and the Akuma was finally under her control.

She swung him around, throwing him into the wall beneath her. He stayed conscious, continued fighting. She pulled him up. The Makara smacked its tail on the ground again, shaking her building. She almost lost her footing, but the magic kept her stable. She continued to pull at the Akuma. Her toes were starting to go numb from the ice on the ground.

“Lucky Charm,” she grit out. Her fingers glowed with heat. She needed to time it so it would be complete right as the Akuma landed on the roof beside her. She slowed the flow of magic in her hands. She could feel Tikki panting. That was one of the side-effects of getting better at her powers--she was constantly aware of Tikki’s presence and how she was feeling. It was odd, but it made Marinette feel stronger than she had before.

The Akuma flopped onto the roof. It used its four hands to try and raise itself, but it was too late. The creation was complete. It was like a snow globe, but large enough to house a person--or an Akuma. She kicked him into the case and shut it over him. The Akuma screeched, throwing its weight around the case, clawing at it and punching it. She knew it wouldn’t do anything. Whatever he did, her magic would nullify it.

Once again calling on her strength, she grabbed the handhold she’d imagined on top of the case and swung back to the soccer field. Just outside of the field, the police had set up a headquarters. She dropped the container there without explanation and swung away, ready to help her partner.

The smell stung her nose; her eyes watered. She couldn’t breathe through her mouth, though. It could easily toss her to the side, and biting her tongue off would be less fun than smelling the rotten fish smell for a short while.

The Makara’s tail started to rise again. Not good. She threw her yo-yo around the Makara’s neck and pulled herself up on its back. Underneath her, the Makara’s scales rose. If her magic didn’t nullify its powers, it would have sliced right through her suit, and right through her leg. Instead, the scales pushed against her with bruising force. Its tail continued to rise, but wouldn’t let it fall. She threw the yo-yo. It went around the Makara’s neck and wrapped around its tail. She braced her feet against one of the raised scales, and she pulled.

Cat Noir came out of nowhere, looking exhausted. He tried to land on the Makara’s head, but it kept hitting him away. She had an idea.

“Lucky Charm!” She called out, hoping Cat Noir heard her. Of course he did. He changed trajectory and landed next to her. She tossed him a spear, hoping he’d understand. Her earrings chimed. She’d need to leave soon. Normally she’d stay and talk to the Akuma victim. In this case, though, she would rather talk to Kim as Marinette than as Ladybug.

Cat Noir caught the spear and rushed off. She strained, sweat dripping down her neck. The tail fought her, struggling to slap the ground. She called for more magic, and Tikki let it flow. Marinette’s legs straightened, and the strain lessened on her back.

From dozens of meters above her, the Makara screamed. Cat Noir held onto his baton, making his way to the ground. Marinette couldn’t let go; she couldn’t risk letting the tail fall; she couldn’t risk any more damage.

Cat Noir came out of nowhere. “What are you doing?” he demanded. The air around them was sparkling and slowly starting to smell fresher. The horrid stench dissipated from the surrounding area.

“I can’t let the tail fall,” she explained. “It’s still fighting me. We can’t let it destroy more!”

Cat Noir cursed under his breath. “The Makara is disappearing, get off before you fall and break your back!”

“The tail!” she shot back.

“The tail is mostly mist! It’s time to get off!”

She pulled her yo-yo back. He was her partner. It would do no one any good if she didn’t trust him. She jumped onto his back and he got them to the ground just as the Makara completely disappeared. Her earrings chimed again. The chimes had upgraded, too. Instead of chiming a certain number of times, Tikki’s voice just told her how many more minutes she had left. Eleven.

“Come on, we have to purify the Akuma,” Her legs felt like jelly beneath her and her shoulder ached, but Marinette pushed through it, like she always did. She stood by Cat Noir, yo-yo ready as he opened the glass container.

The Akuma shot out of the giant snow globe, but Marinette was faster than him. Her yo-yo shot out and wrapped around him. She pulled him to the ground, and an officer standing by shot him with a taser.

“Was that really necessary?” Cat Noir turned to the officer.

“It was a danger to us,” the officer defended.

“You must be new,” Cat Noir decided. Officer Claude nodded behind the taser cop.

“Now we can’t get any information from the Akuma,” Marinette frowned. Then she sighed. It wasn’t like they usually got information from the Akuma anyway. It was probably fine. “I think the butterfly is… in the Akuma’s jacket.” Oh, it would hurt to see that destroyed.

“Mind if I try something?” Cat Noir crouched by the Akuma. Marinette didn’t unwrap the yo-yo from around the Akuma. It might have been tased, but there was still a chance it could be dangerous.

Cat Noir mumbled something, and one single sharp finger darkened. It was like it pulled all the light from around it. Marinette shivered just looking at it. Cat Noir touched the Akuma’s jacket and then pulled back. As if he’d caught it on a string, the butterfly emerged from the jacket. Marinette could have cried in relief. She’d spend weeks on that jacket; she really hadn’t wanted to see it destroyed.

“You’re not the only one learning new tricks,” Cat Noir smiled up at her good-naturedly. He held the butterfly in his palm before he released it from whatever magic web he’d caught it in. Marinette caught it in her yo-yo and purified it.

Kim lay on the icy ground, and she picked him up, carrying him over to the official police pedicab. They had their own procedure for how to deal with Akuma victims. She’d go back home and call him in a few hours. She turned, looked one more time at Cat Noir, and swung away,

It took longer to walk to school than ride there in a pedicab. Marinette had prepared a croissant, and even a disposable cup of coffee and left them with her mom, giving her instructions to give them to Adrien and tell him she’d gone to school with Kim.

She shivered through her four socks, boots, sweatshirt, and down jacket. Her fingertips were numb, even as she held Kim’s hand and held them in her deep pocket. The ice underneath them was too smooth for comfort, so for the first block out of the bakery, they’d walked in cautious silence.

“Thanks for letting me spend the night,” Kim eventually said. Marinette snorted.

“That’s dumb. Shut up, Kim.”

Kim laughed a little at that. “At least some things don’t change.” He looked down and swallowed. He looked at her. “Do you think he’ll still be my friend?”

“Of course he will,” Marinette said. “You were his first friend when he transferred. He’d be a selfish asshole to forget everything about your friendship just because you like him. And no matter what I think about Max, he’s not ever intentionally an asshole.”

“High praise, from you.” Kim laughed. He didn’t seem to want to talk any more, and Marinette was fine with that. They slowly made their way to school. Even in the dark, it was easy to see exactly where the roof of the building had caved in. Marinette sighed.

“Well, shit.”

Kim winced. “Sorry, I guess. I wasn’t really thinking.”

“Yeah, it’s not your fault,” Marinette continued trudging to the school. “It’s just going to suck when we’re in class and there’s no roof there.”

They entered their classroom. Normally, if someone got Akumatized, people would be crawling all over the victim, asking about their experience or how it felt to fly. Today, even Alya kept her distance. News had traveled fast about Kim’s rejection. In such a small class, it was really no surprise. Even people who didn’t know or like Kim looked at him with sympathy. Kim sighed.

Marinette pulled Kim to the back of the classroom. She told Ivan to give Kim his seat next to Nathaniel. Marinette didn’t leave him, even after he’d settled in and unpacked his things. Mrs. Bustier hadn’t entered yet, and she wasn’t going to leave him until class officially started.

“I hate this,” Kim mumbled to himself. “I know what you’re going to say, but I just can’t help it. Chloe...everything she said yesterday...I can’t get it out of my head. I feel so pathetic, and so...unlovable. I know, I know. It’s just one guy, just a crush, we weren’t even going out. Why am I letting this affect me so much, and why am I letting Chloe bother me so much? Well, I can’t help it. I don’t know. Her words won’t stop running through my head.”

“Kim,” Marinette said firmly. “You can feel sad. It’s not a small deal, getting rejected by the guy you like. You’re entitled to feel sad, and hurt, and rejected. But just know that you’re not unlovable. I love you, Alix loves you. Hell, my parents love you. And about Chloe--” Marinette cut herself off. Going off on a long rant about Chloe’s heartlessness wouldn’t help anyone. She opened her mouth, but Nathaniel beat her to it:

“Ignore Chloe,” Nathaniel said firmly. It was a little weird to hear him so serious. He was usually always joking around or smiling. “I hope you don’t mind; Mylene and I heard what she said. Believe it or not, she’s gotten softer about it. I wasn’t in your class last year, but I came out near the start of school. She was awful. I don’t know what her deal is, but she’s not doing it from a good place. I’d just ignore her and focus on yourself rather than her.”

Adrien hadn’t gotten a chance to speak to Marinette yet. Her mother had informed him that she had already left with Kim that morning. He thought he’d possibly be able to talk to her at school, but that hadn’t worked out. She’d sat with Kim and Nathaniel the entire day, even ignoring Mrs. Mendeleiv when she yelled at her to go back to her seat.

Now it was lunchtime. Sabrina and Chloe left before him. Chloe had briefly looked back at Nathaniel and Kim; it had almost looked like she was going to say something, but then she shook her head and walked out with Sabrina.

Adrien stood at his table, conflicted. Should he go to Chloe, to tell her what he actually thought about how she’d spoken to Kim? He hadn’t been there, but word spread fast; he knew what she’d said to Kim after Max had rejected him. It wasn’t like she hadn’t heard what people were saying. She definitely knew the rumor spreading around, and she hadn’t defended herself. Either she didn’t care about what the class said, or she’d actually said what they thought she had.

Adrien picked through his bag for the lunch his chefs had packed for him. He glanced around the room. Mylene was making her way to Ivan. He already had his hand out, ready to hold hers and walk with her to the cafeteria. Nino was on his way out with Alix. They both looked behind him, where Kim, Nathaniel, and Marinette still were. He steeled his nerves and looked up at them.

Kim drooped, and Marinette was standing at his side, encouraging him. Nathaniel sat next to him, a hand on his shoulder. Marinette looked down at Adrien. He looked away, unable to meet her gaze. He still remembered the glare she’d sent his way; she probably hated him now. She hadn’t been angry with him in so long that he’d forgotten how harsh she could look.

He swallowed. He didn’t mean to stay silent, but it was always so much safer to keep his thoughts to himself. If he didn’t speak up, there was no chance of others disagreeing with him, and there was no chance of them leaving him. At least, that’s what he’d thought. Now he knew better. He’d stayed silent and let Sabrina and Chloe laugh at Kim, and now Marinette wouldn’t talk to him.

He swayed on his feet, indecisive, and made his way over to the three of them. Nino and Alix had already left. Now the four of them were the only ones left in the classroom.

“Kim,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“What Chloe said wasn’t your fault,” he assured. Adrien shook his head.

“No, not about that. I’m sorry I didn’t step in and talk to her before she said that stuff after you and Max...you know.” He glanced at Marinette. She was looking at him, frowning

“It’s not your fault,” she said firmly. “She’s old enough to make her own choices, and know what she’s saying. It’s not up to you to censor her. I’m...I still think you talking to her would make her a better person, but don’t you dare apologize. At the end of the day, you didn’t do anything wrong. Right, Kim?”

“Yeah,” Kim assured, smiling thinly at Adrien. “Besides, no matter what Chloe said, we’re cool. You’re not responsible for her.”

Adrien felt so light, like a giant weight had been removed from his shoulders. He knew, logically, that he hadn’t done anything wrong, but it felt like Kim and Marinette would blame him. The fact that neither of them did--that Marinette was still talking to him, and Kim said they were still friends--it was a strangely light, overwhelming, filling feeling.

Marinette made a strangled noise. “What...why do you look like that?”

“I thought you were angry at me,” Adrien said. Nathaniel looked between him and Marinette. He looked at Kim, and the two of them silently excused themselves. Adrien watched them exit the room.

“I’ve been mad at you before,” Marinette said, moving to stand in front of him. “And then I turned out to be totally wrong. I’ve been...trying to reign in my temper since then. I try not to jump to conclusions anymore.”

“I thought you wouldn’t want to talk to me anymore,” Adrien’s throat tightened. “I thought you..I’ve got abandonment issues, I guess.” Adrien tried to laugh, but it didn’t entirely sound like one.

“You don’t have to worry about that with me,” Marinette said, pulling him in for a hug. “We’re friends. I don’t abandon my friends.”

Adrien held her close. He would’ve been happier about her saying she wouldn’t leave him if he wasn’t so busy trying to regain his composure. Marinette pulled away and looked at him. She cursed.

“Quit looking so sad. People are going to think I bullied you.” She grabbed Adrien’s arm and pulled him towards the cafeteria.

Chloe opened the door to her house, surprised to see Adrien standing in front of her. He wouldn’t look her in the eyes, and his hands were both behind his back. She’d bet everything she owned that he was wringing his hands back there. Something was bothering him.

“Adri-cat, what’s happened?” She ushered him inside. “If it was your dad again, I swear, I’m really not letting you go back this time! This is unacceptable! And no--don’t you give excuses for him--it’s just not right!”

“Right,” Adrien muttered as Chloe pulled him towards her room. “No more giving excuses for others.”

Chloe called for a couple mugs of hot chocolate as she passed the kitchen. Adrien stayed silent until they made it into her bedroom. She sat on her bed and Adrien stood in the center of her room. His hair was ruffled, like he’d been running his hands through it, and he kept shifting around. He’d never been so uncomfortable in her room before. They’d been friends since they were kids. He’d been coming to her house for playdates since his mom had let him out of the house. He’d never felt out of place or uncomfortable in her house before. They were closer than friends, they were siblings; they shared absolutely everything with each other.

Well, almost everything. She looked at him, unconsciously biting her thumb nail.

“Quit that,” Adrien said automatically, gingerly sitting down on a chair in her room. “It’s bad for you.”

“Adri-cat, what’s wrong? You’ve never been like this. What happened?”

Adrien opened his mouth, eyes conflicted. “I’m...here to talk to you.”

“Obviously,” Chloe would have rolled her eyes if she wasn’t so worried. This couldn’t be the same Adrien she knew. Her Adri-cat was easy-going, confident, smiling. He didn’t sit and cringe away from her like she was about to bite his head off.

“Chloe. Why did you say that stuff to Kim?” Adrien said. Chloe felt the blood drain from her face. He was this worked up...over that random kid in class? He continued: “It wasn’t right. You’re not that person, I know you’re not. And why do you keep hanging around Sabrina? She’s awful, and whenever you’re with her...I don’t want to tell you this, but she brings out the worst in you.”

He’d said a lot, but one thing stuck out to Chloe. She narrowed her eyes at him and placed her fists on her hips. “You came here to tell me to stay away from Sabrina?”

“No, I--” She wouldn’t let him finish. He didn’t understand how hard it was for her to open up or make friends--it had taken forever to just get Sabrina as a friend. She couldn’t give her up, and she wouldn’t.

“Well, you can forget it.” Chloe stood up, the backs of her knees against her mattress. “She’s my friend--the only friend I have. Sabrina has always been there for me, and I won’t abandon her.”

Adrien shook his head, holding his hands out, pleading with her. “It’s not about abandoning her. It’s about seeing what she’s doing to you. I know you, Chlo. You’re not the person you are at school. You’re not that mean or condescending, and the Chloe I know wouldn’t hang around a homophobe.” He stayed where he was, eyebrows tilting in concern. Well, he could take that concern and shove it up his ass for all she cared.

Chloe took a step towards him, pointing a finger straight at his chest. It used to be so easy to argue with him when he was still shorter than her. Now she had to tilt her head up to look him in the eyes. “Don’t tell me who I can be friends with, and who I should stay away from. You’re not my dad, Adrien!”

“I’m not telling you who you can be friends with, but--”

“Do you honestly think, if I kicked Sabrina to the curb, that Dupain-Cheng would let me have friends in class? No! You like her, so I kept quiet, but she’s a toxic bully, Adrien!” She took another step towards him, but so did Adrien. He looked down at her, vehemently defending the girl he’d only known for a few months.

“You don’t know her, you don’t even talk to her!”

Someone opened the door and set down a couple of steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Neither of them paid attention to that.

“I’ve been in her class longer than you have! I know that she never gets tired of telling others how to be, who to be, how to be better in her eyes. I know she’s got the holier-than-thou look down pat. I know I have to hold onto Sabrina with everything I have or I’ll be alone!”

“You don’t know that! Marinette used to hate me, remember? But she--” Adrien cut himself off, shaking his head in frustration. “No, that’s not the point! Do you know why I’m even bringing this up, Chlo? Marinette. She talked to me. She might not know how to show it, but she’s only so harsh because she cares--you can be better, Chloe, I know you, I know you can be better than snarking at people and kicking them when they’re down!”

Blood rushed through Chloe’s head, roaring through her ears and behind her eyes. Her face heated, and she felt so full of pressure she could imagine her face bloating. He didn’t know anything. He’d always been the baby in their relationship. Yes, she’d told him about her mother and her abandonment, but that had been all. He was younger than her, and she’d always felt so protective of him. She had made choices through the years--choices which kept him in the dark to her suffering. He didn’t know what she’d been through, he didn’t know what she was currently going through.

Everything had been so perfect, so easy, before Dupain-Cheng had gotten her venomous claws into him. Now he was just like her--judging her, telling her she could be better. It wasn’t true! She wasn’t worth all this effort, all this faith. Her mother had been the first to let her know, and now she knew it, too--she wasn’t worth this, she was unlovable.

It was time Adrien figured it out, too.

She glared at him, stomping up to him and physically poking him, forcing him back towards the door. “Yeah, well maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do!”

He glared right back at her and planted his feet in the carpet on the ground. He pushed her hand away and leaned down. He spoke slowly and clearly. His tone was almost chilling for all its surface civility. “That’s utter bullshit. You’re my best friend, and I’m willing to bet I know you better than you know yourself!”

It was too much. All the words running through her head pushed through, and she screamed it in his face: “Well did you know I’m gay!” Suddenly, her mind was silent. Everything moved slower than a few moments ago. Adrien didn’t say anything, and she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

“You’re gay?” There was a pause. “Do you remember your dad sent you to summer camp? When you came back you kept talking about this girl. Were you guys--”

Chloe’s head snapped up. Her cheeks heated, suddenly recalling everything she’d said to that girl. Oh, she was so embarrassing--a walking disaster, really. She’d been able to forget about that for years, and now Adrien just had to bring it back to mind? “No! She was just a friend. Adrien, take this seriously--I’m gay.”

“I am taking you seriously,” Adrien insisted. “There’s just not much to say. You told me, and now I’m curious. What about Yvonne? You said you just liked her hair, but were you--”

“Stop, stop!” Chloe covered his mouth with her hand. “This is not how this is supposed to go!”

He licked her palm and she pulled away, screeching in disgust. He just grinned at her: “What do you mean? What am I supposed to say?” Then, he adopted a mock-serious expression. “Oh, is there like, a ritual or something? A predetermined reaction I should have?” Chloe narrowed his eyes at him.

“You are the single most irritating person I’ve ever met!” she fumed. She pushed his chest, throwing her weight against him and trying to get him out the door. “Get out, I hate you!”

“Alright, alright, calm down,” Adrien laughed. “You want me to be serious? Then, tell me why you said all that stuff to Kim.”

She pulled back, taking a few steps away from him. “I don’t know.”

That was a lie. She totally knew. She just didn’t want to say it out loud. Adrien had always been the baby, the one who’d needed to be looked after. She used to hold his hand and kiss his boo-boos better, and she’d taken it upon herself to never worry him with her problems.

“That’s not an answer, Chlo,” he pressed. “If you can say the words, you can figure out why you said them in the first place.”

“Because…” He was right. She could do this. She took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. “Because I’m scared. People already didn’t like me before, and that was when I was the picturesque rich, blonde beauty. If I deviate, even the slightest bit, I’m opening myself up to criticism by others. You weren’t there, Adrien. It took me months to make friends with Sabrina. I can’t...I don’t want to be alone again. And if I tell everyone about myself, Sabrina will leave me.”

“You don’t have to come out if you don’t want to,” Adrien assured. “But that’s not what I’m asking. Why did you act that way towards Kim? I’m positive you could all too easily imagine what he was going through. So, why?”

“Adrien,” Chloe warned. Tears welled in her eyes and her voice thickened. “It’s not a pretty answer. You’re going to think I’m a monster, just like everyone else in class.”

“No,” He held her hands. “I won't. Because I know the real you. Now would you tell me? Please?”

“It makes me feel...like I’m in control. I can take out all the insecurities and turmoil inside of myself onto others, people who don’t matter to me, and it makes me feel...powerful. I take it out on them--on people like Le Chien--uh, Kim--and Kurtzberg, and I feel so much less afraid than I am all the time.”

Adrien made her sit down and went to get their perfectly cooled hot chocolate. He held his mug in his hand but didn’t drink any. Instead, he sat next to her on the bed.

“Chloe, you know you’ll always have me, right? We were diaper buddies. The only reason I’d leave you is if you wanted me to leave. But Chloe, you’ve got to promise to be kinder. That fear you feel? It’s not just you, Chlo. Everyone else is living their life, and they might be just as afraid as you are.”

Kim stood in front of her, downcast and obviously wanting to leave. Chloe couldn’t help but wonder why he gave her a chance, why he agreed to speak with her. She looked at the wall behind him, where she knew Adri-cat would be waiting for her, giving her all the moral support she could need and more.

She took a deep breath. She wasn’t a coward, and she wasn’t going to chicken out of this. She was brave, and she was worth love. She wouldn’t hide behind cruel words any longer. This would be the beginning to a brand new Chloe Bourgeouis.

“I’m sorry.” she said. Kim stared at her. “For everything. I know an apology won’t fix things, and I’m sure we won’t ever become friends or anything, but I just want you to know that I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did, and I shouldn’t have laughed alone when Sabrina was saying those things to you in the park. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I hope you believe that I’m being genuine.”

“Did Adrien force you to do this?” Kim asked. “Tell him he totally didn’t need to.” He turned to leave, but Chloe reached out and grabbed his arm.

“No!” She pulled back, clenching her jaw. Why was this so hard? “Adri-cat would have been happy if I just promised to be a better person and to never do anything like that again. This was all me. I decided to apologize. Because I’m really, truly sorry.” She looked into his eyes, hoping he could see that she was trying to be genuine. “I know what it’s like to be afraid and hurt. I made you feel that way. I’m sorry.”

Kim looked at her silently for a second. Then, he sighed and smiled at her tiredly. “Yeah, it’s fine. I forgive you--as long as I get to start calling our golden boy ‘Adri-cat.’”

Chapter Text

Marinette ran her hands down her pants, wiping the sweat off her palms. She once again questioned her choice to match her green velvet shirt with a light pink jacket. She thought the colors and pieces worked together--she’d designed them to work together, afterall--but everyone else was wearing such dark, basic colors. Though she usually relished in standing out in her own designs, today she wondered if she should have styled herself after an Agreste design instead. Tikki had assured her that her outfit was beautiful, especially with the black leather pants, but Marinette was too nervous to agree with her.

She’d been contacted a few days ago that her entry in the Clarence fashion contest had won first place, and Aubrey Clarence had been so impressed by the design that she’d come to Paris to meet her and spend time with her. Now, she was waiting at a fabric store for Aubrey Clarence, and she was not ashamed to admit that she was freaking out a little.

The door chimed. A tall blonde woman stepped in. She wore a long sleeve ice blue shirt with enormous sleeves, large enough to be called avant garde. The shirt was lined with white puffy cotton inside, and a few snowflakes cut across the front of the shirt, from shoulder to shoulder. She wore a matching blue mini skirt with thick white leggings underneath. Her white boots extended to her knee, accentuating her height. It was bold, and on anyone else, it might have looked tacky, but this woman exuded class.

She took off her sunglasses and glanced around the room. When her cool brown eyes landed on Marinette, she strode over, the heels of her boots clicking on the floor. Scampering behind her, Chloe Bourgeois straightened her clothes and fixed her hair.

“You must be Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” The tall woman’s voice was deeper than she’d expected, but warm and inviting, like Sabine when she spoke to customers.

“Yes,” Marinette forced down her anxiety and extended a hand. She knew her smile was a little too wide, too excited, but there was no way she could tamp that down. This was Aubrey Clarence, one of the top fashion designers in Paris, who had connections all throughout the world, who showed at New York Fashion Week every year. She was one of Marinette’s idols, and it was impossible for her not to be a little starstruck. “It’s so nice to meet you! I almost couldn’t believe it when I got the email from your fashion house!”

“What’s not to believe?” The woman smiled as she gracefully shook Marinette’s hand. “You’re certainly talented enough. I might be the first, but I won’t be the last to want to meet you. Why, just look at you!” Aubrey examined Marinette’s jacket, “This is divine!” She looked at Marinette for permission, then physically inspected the pink jacket, feeling along the edges, flipping it to look at the inside, and pulling the pockets inside out.

Marinette felt lightheaded, like she was going to pass out. Aubrey Clarence was looking at her jacket, and she seemed to like it! She could just die and she’d be happy.

“Look at the stitching lining the pockets, Mom,” Chloe piped up, pointing at the embroidery running along the inside of Marinette’s jacket pockets.

Aubrey sighed. “Yes, Cleo, I have eyes as well.” Her voice was much sharper when speaking to Chloe than it had been while conversing with Marinette. She looked at Marinette apologetically, gesturing to Chloe. “My daughter. She will be joining us today.” She didn’t sound exactly happy about that.

Marinette glanced between the two of them. This was Chloe’s mom? There was something weird about that. It wasn’t that they had different last names--neither of her parents had changed their last name after getting married--but it was about the feeling between them. It was almost like they were strangers. Given that Aubrey Clarence had been living in New York for the last twelve years, that wouldn’t be shocking. It also could have been the fact that Aubrey apparently didn't remember her own daughter's name.

Marinette didn’t want to say anything, though. This was Aubrey Clarence. If she got on her good side, opportunities would open for her in the blink of an eye. She would easily be able to get an internship, or even a job, as soon as high school ended, and she’d be able to help her parents pay their bills. She couldn’t afford to question their relationship, and she figured Chloe wouldn’t want her to, either.

“I always embroider something near the pockets, or at the edge of my shirts,” Marinette showed the two of them the inside hem of her velvet shirt. “Usually it’s the inspiration for the design, but sometimes it’s just my name. It’s like my signature.”

“I love it,” Aubrey gushed. “Oh, I was thrilled when I saw your design. Out of all the submissions we received, yours was the most...how do I say? Inspired. It was so inspired, with so many layers, and so much work and passion was put into the design--I haven’t felt so refreshed after seeing a design in many years, let me tell you. When I saw that you lived in Paris, I wasted no time in purchasing a plane ticket and coming here to visit.”

“I thought you didn’t want to come to Paris in case a Makara attack kept you from work?” Chloe questioned from her mom’s side. Aubrey ignored her. Marinette tried not to look at the red cheeks or downcast look on Chloe’s face. She forced herself to focus on Aubrey Clarence.

“Talent like yours should be cultivated,” Aubrey leaned down and grabbed Marinette’s hands. “That’s why I asked you to meet me here. This is the most well-stocked fabric store in Paris, and I’d like you to have free reign here.”

Marinette’s jaw dropped. She knew what she’d heard, but she wasn’t sure Aubrey knew what she’d just said. “Do you mean--”

“That’s right,” Aubrey smiled. “Anything you want, as much as you want. Don’t be shy. You are a true designer, and the world deserves to see what you have to offer.” She suddenly seemed to remember Chloe’s presence. “Cleo will go with you, to help you carry anything you like. Right, Cleo?”

“Yes,” Chloe answered immediately. “Of course. Come on, Marinette.”

Marinette allowed Chloe to drag her away, suddenly feeling like she was in an alternate universe. Here she was, in a high-end fabric store, with Aubrey Clarence (who liked her design enough to fly to another continent to meet her) and Chloe was calling her ‘Marinette’ again for the first time since elementary school. All of it was so surreal, she wasn’t sure which was more unbelievable.

Marinette and Chloe went to the second level of the store, and Marinette immediately forgot about everything else. Here she was, surrounded by silks and cottons and brocades she’d previously only dreamed about touching. Now, she was going to be allowed to buy it, to own it, to create with it!

Each fabric got its own section, and was color coded with light colors on the right and dark on the left. Marinette made a bee-line for the fake fur, but the brocades distracted her. An employee of the store came by when she was particularly interested in a black and gold brocade and helped her cut ten yards of the fabric. A small part of Marinette felt bad about spending someone else’s money as freely as she was, but it was easy to ignore when she remembered how much work she’d done to get recognized by Aubrey Clarence.

“Oh, this is interesting,” Aubrey felt the sunset orange fleece fabric Marinette was admiring. “Any plans for the fabric, or are you the type to get what speaks to you and design later?”

“I’ve had an idea for a while of a sporty shirt/dress for a while, and I thought the color would be bold enough for my style!” Marinette was practically giddy. She’d only ever had her aunt to talk with about fashion. Speaking to someone--a successful businesswoman, no less--about clothing was like a dream come true.

“You should go with white or beige,” Chloe said. “It would be more neutral, easier to sell. Right, Mom?”

“Cleo, the fashion world is a bit more complicated than that,” Aubrey shot her daughter an irritated look. “Go look at the lace, or the rhinestones or something. I can help Marinette.”
Chloe shot them a hurt look before turning and wandering away. Marinette glanced at Aubrey who seemed totally unaware of her daughter and continued to inspect the orange fleece.

“Three yards of this,” she turned to tell a nearby employee. They cut it and stored the fabric with the rest that Marinette had picked out.

As the hours passed, Marinette was almost overwhelmed by all the options. The cotton patterns were beautiful, the colored silks were more vivid than any she’d been able to get her hands on, and the sheen of the satins added an extra dimension to the possibilities she could create with them. Fabric after fabric, Marinette’s pile grew larger, and she should have been happy. She should have been ecstatic with what Aubrey Clarence was willing to buy for her, and the face that she believed so strongly in her that she gave her no budget. But it was impossible.

Every dozen minutes or so, Chloe would cautiously wander back to talk to her mother, and every time without fail, Aubrey would rebuff her and send her away again. After a certain point, Chloe found her best bet was to hang around Marinette and talk to her about the fabrics until Aubrey found something she said agreeable. It was horribly awkward, and so incredibly sad.

“Look at this,” Aubrey held out a nearly sheer navy blue chiffon. “With layers and a proper design, this could be so elegant, don’t you think?” Marinette glanced to the side, where Chloe was staring at her longingly. It left a sour taste in Marinette’s mouth. Aubrey Clarence would always be one of her favorite designers, and a business role model, but Marinette couldn’t allow herself to accept this kind of attention from her while Chloe was so desperate for even a few moments of her mom’s time.

She put down the silver fabric in her hand and took a deep breath, chest aching. She knew what her conscience was telling her to do. She knew it would be best for her in the long run. She should tell Aubrey Clarence that she was thankful, but that she couldn’t accept any of this. A wave of nausea rolled over her as she looked at the pile of expensive, high quality fabrics that the store had cut and set aside for her. It was literally thousands of dollars worth of materials, and she couldn’t accept any of it.

“Aubrey,” Marinette clenched her hands. Was she sure she had to do this? With Aubrey Clarence’s approval and friendship, she could go so far in her career, so much quicker than if she tried to on her own. Was this worth it? She glanced once again at Chloe. She was usually so arrogant, so full of pride, so confident. Now, she slumped in the shadows, eyes round and lost like an abandoned child. Marinette knew then that she could never create with the fabrics Aubrey was offering to buy her. She loved fashion, she wanted it to be her career, but she would never compromise her morals for a job. “I can’t accept this.”

Aubrey blinked at her, and Chloe looked confused. That sick feeling whirled through Marinette’s stomach again.

“What do you mean?” Aubrey asked. She still had a chance. She could play it off as though she was just embarrassed by all the attention, or she was uncomfortable about all the money spent on her from a stranger. But no. Marinette was a lot of things, but she was not a liar.

“I can’t accept gifts from a woman who treats her daughter--my classmate--so coldly. I would look at the fabrics and feel too disgusted to touch them anymore. I’m so sorry for wasting your time, and thank you for coming out to see me because of my design, but I can’t work with you. I won’t let myself work with someone who throws away family for success.”

“Be reasonable,” Aubrey laughed. “You and I are in fashion. You need to know the harsh reality of the business--you either give everything you’ve got, or you get nothing.”

“That might be true,” Marinette said. “But I can live with myself if I don’t make much money. I can’t live with myself if I accept these fabrics from you.”

Marinette turned to leave, grabbing Chloe on her way. Aubrey didn’t say a single word to convince her to stay. Marinette pushed her way out into the frozen streets of Paris and shivered. She continued to hold onto Chloe’s arm as they trudged through Paris. The sun was high in the sky, but it provided no warmth, only light. The sunshine reflected off the ice, making the Parisian avenue bitingly cold but blindingly bright.

She spotted a cafe and entered with Chloe, quickly getting seated at a booth in the back.

“Order anything you want,” Marinette handed Chloe a menu. “After what you just went through, you deserve it.”

Chloe didn’t say anything and read through the menu. A waiter came by and took their orders. The two girls were silent. The bell at the front of the cafe chimed and Marinette rolled her eyes. Chloe turned to see what she’d seen. It was Mrs. Bustier, walking in with another woman. The other woman was taller than Mrs. Bustier, and she had a darker complexion. She wore a red turtleneck sweater with dark jeans and brown boots. She was beautifully put together, and Marinette felt a ball of almost regret in her throat. She’d picked out a cotton fabric that same shade of red. She’d never get to work with it now.

“Mrs. Bustier?” Chloe looked at the other woman. “Who’s that?”

“Her wife,” Marinette said. Chloe gave her a look. “I know for a fact it’s her wife,” Marinette defended. “She orders things from my website every once in a while. I’d rather not say what exactly she orders. But one time she gave me a picture of the two of them and asked me to make two shirts with the picture on it for their anniversary. They’re diabetes-level sweet.”

“You don’t like Mrs. Bustier,” Chloe said casually as the waiter brought them their drinks. She took a sip while Marinette rolled her eyes.

“Who would? She’s a coward who runs away crying more than she actually teaches. The only reason she hadn’t been hit by an Akuma like all the other teachers is because she sneaks away with the students. I’ve seen her.”

“I believe you,” Chloe murmured. “I never thought, though…”

“She’s got a victim-complex,” Marinette continued, “And cries to fix things, or runs away. It’s pathetic, and I have no respect for her at all.”

“Well, don’t sugar-coat it,” Chloe huffed with the hint of a smile on her lips. “I would have thought that you wouldn’t like her...for other reasons?”

“I don’t need other reasons when she’s given me plenty already,” Marinette said. She pursed her lips and took a sip of her hot chocolate. She made a face. It was water-based. Gross. Her dad made it better at home. She pushed the mug aside.

“You want to know about my mom?” Chloe sighed. Marinette shook her head.

“No. I want to know about you. Are you ok?” Chloe stared at her. Marinette scowled. “What? Are you not ok?”

“No, I’m fine,” Chloe said. “I’m used to Mom. I’m just not used to you I guess.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Marinette frowned as the waiter came with their food. He scampered away, and Marinette picked at the food on her plate. She sighed. “If I hurt your feelings, or something, I’m sorry. I don’t even realize if I’m being rude half the time.”

“No, it’s not that,” Chloe shook her head. “I just thought you hated me. Why would you--you’re not rich, Dupain-Cheng. You’ll never be able to buy that amount of fabric from that store. Ever. Why would you give it all up?”

“Why the hell would you think I hate you?” Marinette narrowed her eyes. “I talk to you, don’t I? Yeah, sometimes you can be a bitch, but you’re not a complete loss, you know? And besides, who cares about some dumb fabric? Seeing how your mom treated you made me feel sick. I’d never be able to separate the clothes from the experience, and if I tried to use them, I’d feel...dirty. So I had to turn her down.”

They were silent for a while, just eating their food. Chloe looked up at her. “No one’s done that for me in a long time,” she finally whispered. “I can’t even remember the last person who chose me over my mom. Thanks, Du--thanks Marinette.”

“It’s the right thing to do.” She glanced at the still full mug in front of her and pushed it in front of Chloe. “If you want to thank me, have this hot chocolate.”

Chloe sniffed it and wrinkled her nose. “No way. That’s water-based, and all the marshmallows look stale.”

“Damn,” Marinette mumbled, pulling the mug back towards herself. “My plan has been foiled.”

Chloe laughed, taking a bite of her macaroni and cheese.

Marinette opened the door to her home, Chloe following close behind. The unbearable heat of the kitchen translated to a comfortable warmth in the front of the bakery, and the smell of fresh bread wafted through the air. Marientte went behind the counter and kissed the woman there on the cheek. She asked about the meeting with Aubrey Clarence, and Marinette scowled in response.

Chloe studied the woman, surely Marinette’s mom. She was the same height as Marinette, but the slightest bit stockier. Her hair was the same color as Marinette’s, but trimmed short, and straighter. She had crow’s feet at the corner of her warm brown eyes and the smoothest skin Chloe had ever seen on a real person. She wore a black apron, almost entirely covered in flour, and a faded pink t-shirt. Mrs. Dupain-Cheng looked over at Chloe and gave her a welcoming smile.

“Hello,” Chloe greeted, a little uncomfortable with this still. She appreciated what Marinette had done for her, but it was still weird to hang around her when she’d been convinced a few hours ago that the girl hated her. Her mom waved at her from behind the counter,

“Hello, are you a new friend of Marinette’s?” she asked. Chloe and Marinette exchanged glances. It wasn’t a simple yes or no answer, and both of them knew that. They’d been in the same class since elementary school, and they’d never gotten along. It had gotten a bit more volatile and obvious as high school started, but they also had a bit of respect for each other. After today, Chloe had more than a little respect--for the first time, she understood why Adri-cat kept insisting that Marinette Dupain-Cheng wasn't all that bad.

“This is Chloe Bourgeois,” Marinette introduced. “Her mom is awful, so I brought her here to meet you. I’ll man the front; can you like, spend time with her or something? Show here what a real mom does?”

“Are you sure you want to run the cash register?” her mom asked. “Your friend Adrien came by. He’s in the living room with Tom.”

“Adri-cat is here?”

“Do we have any croissants left?”

“He came by, upset about his father. Tom, my husband, took him back to the living room and they’ve been playing video games for the past hour.” Marinette opened her mouth, but her mom shot her a look. “Don’t you dare interrupt me, young lady. I’ve already given Adrien all the croissants we have in stock. Honestly, who do you think I am?”

“Are you sure this is your mom?” Chloe looked at Marinette skeptically. “She seems way too nice to be related to you.”

Mrs. Dupain-Cheng laughed and Marinette rolled her eyes. “Shut up, you don’t know anything about her. She’s a slave-driver, a demon, a monster, a--”

“Don’t talk about your mother that way!”

“Sorry, Mom.” Marinette did not look sorry. “Anyway, go hang out with Dad, Adrien, and Chloe. I’m sure you’ve been working for a while, you deserve a break.”

Mrs. Dupain-Cheng handed the filthy apron to her daughter and fluffed her hair, giving Chloe a refreshed smile. “That’s better. It’s so nice when my daughter gets off her ass and decides to help us once in a while.” Ok so maybe it wasn’t that far-fetched to think the two were related.

“Mom,” Marinette complained. “Why do you keep wearing that disgusting t-shirt? I told you, it’s embarrassing.”

“Ignore her,” Mrs. Dupain-Cheng led her through the bakery.

"Do not ignore me!"

They ignored her. Chloe walked through the bakery with Sabine. On the left was the kitchen and counter, with all the confections and breads displayed for customers. The left side of the bakery was filled with sitting space. The floor was checkered with black and white tiles, the chairs were red, and there were a few family pictures on the wall. It was just a bakery, but it made Chloe feel more welcome and at home than her actual home did.

As they wandered through the bakery, they made it to a door with an ‘employee only’ sign on it. Past the door was a stairway which Mrs. Dupain-Cheng led her up, and Chloe was greeted with a...house. It seemed that the Dupain-Cheng's bakery was literally their home.

“This is the closet,” Mrs. Dupain-Cheng opened a door to the immediate left of the entrance to the house. “This is the bathroom. Through there is the living room, and on the left is the dining room. Feel free to move about as you please, but take your shoes off at the door.”

Mrs. Dupain-Cheng was so much more polite and calm, but she was so much more firm than her daughter. Chloe had been in countless arguments with Marinette and she’d seen the full extent of her anger multiple times, but she knew she’d never last in an argument with her mom.

“Tom, we’ve got company!”

Mr. Dupain-Cheng made a distracted noise. “That’s nice, Dear.”

“We’ll be in the kitchen.”

“Be clean!”

“Don’t worry, Tom,” Adri-cat laughed. “I’ll clean up after her.”

“Adrien, you are a child after my own heart. If only you were my daughter instead of Marinette. I’m sure I would have so much brown hair left on my head!”

“Take that, Tom!” Adrien cheered. “Don’t get distracted, Old Man--now I’ve finally won!”

Mrs. Dupain-Cheng shook her head and looked at Chloe, a long-suffering look on her face. “Tom always wanted a son. Now he’s adopted one, it seems. Let’s go to the kitchen, they’ll join us after we’re finished.”

“Finished with what?” Chloe said quietly, trying not to draw attention to herself. The house was cluttered, in that lived-in way. It was easy to get comfortable here, almost too easy. She heard Adri-cat laughing and Mr. Dupain-Cheng calling for a re-match in the other room.

“Well, our brownies, of course.” Mrs. Dupain-Cheng led her into the kitchen and started pulling ingredients out of multiple cabinets, drawers, and the fridge. “When she was young, we would usually practice martial arts or go on family trips together. Sometimes I’d dress her up as my little doll--oh, that was back when she was still agreeable and adorable, you know. I had a feeling you were just a little too old for that, and I’m not sure you’d be able to handle the training I had in mind. So, let’s do what this family does best: bake.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Dupain-Cheng,” Chloe got up and started whisking together the dry ingredients as she had instructed.

“Mrs. Cheng,” Marinette’s mom corrected. “I didn’t change my name after I got married.”

“Do you...You didn’t change your name, but you still live with your husband?” Chloe questioned. “Why?”

“I love my husband,” Mrs. Cheng assured. “But because of familial traditions, I couldn’t bring myself to change my last name. Same with Tom, actually. We have different last names, but we’ve been happily married for twenty years now. We don’t need to change our last name to prove devotion now, do we?”

“I guess now,” Chloe murmured. “My mom used to have Bourgeois as her last name. Then, she changed it back to her maiden name when I was seven and moved across the world.”

“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Cheng said. “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but she sounds like a selfish bitch.”

Ah, there was that Marinette charm. Chloe let out a startled laugh.

“She’s not so bad,” Chloe defended. “She makes a lot of money and sends it back to me and Dad.”

“Money can be gained or lost with hard work and time,” Sabine greased up a baking pan. “It’s a lifelong pursuit, but it won’t always be there. People who care for you can be gained in an instant, or lost just as quickly. Sometimes no amount of hard work will guarantee a person will come and stay with you in your old age. Chloe, you should remember that. Money is nice, but it’s not an excuse to leave your family.”

Mrs. Cheng then stood to the side and explained all the steps and measurements to Chloe. It took a painfully long time, and her arm hurt from mixing so much by the end of it, but that made it all the more satisfying when she finally put it in the oven.

“So, Chloe,” Mrs. Cheng sat in a chair across from her, “I might be wrong, but I was under the impression you didn’t like Marinette. What changed?”

“Who told you that?” Chloe asked. Mrs. Cheng raised an eyebrow at her. Right, Marinette was her daughter. Of course she’d know about their arguments. “Oh, yeah. I mean we argue a lot. She’s a little stubborn and is a bit nosy--”

“You don’t have to hold back,” Mrs. Cheng laughed. “She’s my daughter, I know exactly how irrational and stubborn she can get. Lay it on me straight.”

“Right,” Chloe cleared her throat. “I guess we argued so much and she kept telling me to be better, it seemed like she thought she was better than me. But today, she turned down thousands of dollars of design stuff for me. I guess I just saw the nice side of her that Adri-cat keeps telling me about.”

“Interesting,” Mrs. Cheng hummed. “And she brought you here?”

“She said you would be good for me,” Chloe mumbled, embarrassed.

“She left something out, of course.” Mrs. Cheng said. “Tom would be good for you as well. I have a feeling your father isn’t very present, either?”

“He tries,” Chloe defended. “He’s just so busy all the time that he tries to spoil me. It was nice when I was like, twelve, but I’m almost an adult now. It just feels lazy, like he’d rather throw money at me than spend time with me.” Tears stung Chloe’s eyes. She hadn’t realized that was how she’d felt until she said it outloud, and now it hurt when her words echoed in her mind. Mrs. Cheng grabbed Chloe’s hand and held it between her own, grounding her.

“Tom is a good man,” Mrs. Cheng assured. “The doors to this bakery will always be open to you. Please take my words to heart, like Adrien has.”

Chloe turned to try and glance at the living room. Mrs. Cheng smiled and stood, taking Chloe to Adrien and Tom.

The living room was small, but functional. The room was lined with a few small bookshelves stuffed with cooking books and photo albums. The walls had a few family photos in them, but there were also a few frames hung up with the stock photos still inside of them. There was a circular blue rug on the ground, right behind a couch which was situated in front of the TV. On the side furthest from Chloe sat Adrien. Next to him was, apparently, Tom.

He was massive. It was shocking to think that he was Mrs. Cheng’s husband and Marinette’s dad. His arms were thicker around than Chloe at the hip. His head towered at least half a foot over Adrien--and Adrien’s height wasn’t anything to laugh about. His hair was brown with a few streaks of gray at the temple, and he had a bushy mustache beneath his nose.

Looking at him, there was nothing to resemble Marinette. Chloe tensed. Maybe she’d inherited her matchstick temper from her father. She really didn’t want to see this Goliath man angry. She moved behind Mrs. Cheng.

“Tom,” she said. Her husband hummed, still focused on his game. She clicked her tongue in irritation. “Tom!”

“Yes, Dear?” His voice was deep, but surprisingly soft. Chloe felt instantly relaxed when he spoke, still focused on the video game in front of him. Well, Marinette certainly got that from him.

He hadn’t looked over. Mrs. Cheng’s eyes narrowed. Chloe shivered. She’d had that look sent at her before, but when Marinette did it, it was much less threatening.

“We have a guest,” Mrs. Cheng did not sound happy. Neither of the boys paid her any attention.

“It’s no trouble, Mrs. Cheng,” Chloe tried to assure.

Adrien snorted, leaning his body to the left as he tilted his controller. “You don’t have to be so formal with her--just call her Sabine.”

“Do not,” Sabine warned, but she was looking at Adrien rather than at her. Chloe still felt that she should assure her:

“I won’t, Mrs. Cheng.”

“She’s joking,” Adrien said. “I promise, she likes it more when you call her Sabine.” Adrien clicked rapidly on his controller, and Tom’s brow furrowed. After a few seconds, Tom brightened, throwing his hands in the air and cheering. On his left, Adrien wilted, pouting at the TV screen.

“Who is this?” Tom finally noticed Chloe standing there. “Another of Marinette’s friends?”

“Hello, Mr. Dupain,” Chloe greeted politely. “I’m Marinette’s classmate, Chloe.”

“Bourgeois?” Tom clarified. She nodded.

“She and I made brownies,” Mrs. Cheng announced. They’ll be ready in just under twenty minutes. Now, I’m going to go downstairs before Marinette loses her temper with a customer.”

Sabine left the room. Adrien shifted on the couch so Chloe could sit between him and Tom. Tom primly set his controller on the table in front of him.

“Get ready,” he warned the two of them. “Marinette was just running the front of the house. When she gets up here, she won’t--”

“Dad,” Marinette’s voice whipped through the air. Chloe turned and saw her stomping through the house. “Quit it with that joke, it’s not funny. I’m not in a bad mood or anything, I’m just dirty!”

“Right, of course,” Tom agreed. “Why don’t you take a shower, then? We’ll be here when you get out.”

“Oh, and don’t forget about the brownies,” Adrien spoke up.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be right back. Don’t burn the brownies.”

“Marinette,” Mr. Dupain sounded wounded. “I’m a baker. I don’t burn things.”

She stomped to her room. Tom and Adrien exchanged amused glances.

“Not in a bad mood?” Adrien scoffed. Tom nodded, chuckling a little. Chloe looked at the trapdoor ladder she climbed up.

“Where is she going?”

“Her room is the attic. It’s the only room on the level above us. It gives her enough space to design, and keeps her out of our hair when she’s in a mood.”

“I’m not in a mood!” Marinette yelled down from her room. “I just want to take a shower!”

“Eavesdropping is a bad habit,” Adrien threw back. “Hurry up, the sooner you get out, the sooner I get brownies!”

Chloe sighed, hearing Marinette walk above her. Adrien turned to her.

“So, Chlo, why are you here? I thought you hated Marinette.”

“Why do people keep saying that? I don't hate her." Adrien sent her a look. Chloe looked at Tom and gently amended: "I never hated her, I just didn't like her very much. But that was before." She shifted in her seat slightly, facing Adrien more than before. "My mom saw one of Marinette’s designs and came to Paris for a few hours,” Chloe studied the frozen screen on the TV in front of her. It looked like a ladybug on the right and a black cat on the right. The black cat was victorious, and the ladybug was squished. This must have been the game they’d been playing when she walked in.

“Are you ok?” Adrien asked, now serious. Tom, sensing a shift in mood, turned to face her more fully. The look on his face was open, curious, but not prying. She knew he’d leave if she asked him to, but she didn’t want him to leave--not just yet.

“I’m actually better than I’ve ever been when Mom comes over,” Chloe confessed. She lowered her voice and looked at the trapdoor. “Marinette called her out about the way she acted towards me. Then we went and had food and we even went ice skating. It was actually really fun.”

Adrien winced. “I’m sorry. I’ve never done that for you.”

“It’s alright,” Chloe said. “It’s not like you to confront anyone. At first, she didn’t say anything either, you know. It took almost two hours for her to break.”

“Surprising,” Tom said. “She usually has such a short temper.” He paused, looking at Adrien. “Though, lately, she’s had a much better time calming down before she speaks.”

“You’re sure you’re alright?”

“I’ve had a lot of fun with Mrs. Cheng,” Chloe confessed. “Like, the most fun I’ve had in a long time. Which, when I think about it--isn’t that just pathetic? Sabrina is like, my best friend, but I had more fun with Marinette’s mom than with her.”

“Well, not really your best friend,” Adrien mused. “I guess I know what you mean, though.”

A timer beeped in the kitchen. Chloe made to stand up, but Tom placed a hand on her shoulder, pushing her back down on the couch. The width of his hand was double that of her shoulder. He was unreal.

“Don’t worry,” He smiled down at her kindly. “I’ll get that.” He went to the kitchen, and soon the sound of banging pots and pans reached Chloe and Adrien. They exchanged glances, but neither of them had the time to go look after him. Marinette came down the stairs, a medium pink towel running through her hair. She sniffed the air, looked at the couch, then huffed and stomped towards the kitchen.

“Dad!” she growled. “Go back to the living room!”

“Don’t worry, Marinette, it’s just some brownies.”

“No! You bake all day, leave it alone, I’ll do it. Now get out, Adrien and Chloe are waiting for you. Tell them about that giant shark you caught that one time, they’ll like that.”

“Do you really think they want to hear about that?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Now go away!"

“I told you she was a good person,” Adrien whispered, grinning at her. Chloe couldn’t disagree anymore.

“Yeah, she is.”

Chapter Text

“I would never organize my house the way you’ve set it up,” Sabine’s mother-in-law nagged over the phone. “It’s just begging for a bug infestation. I remember last time I visited how many spiders I had to fight off--dreadful! Sabine, you really ought to work harder at keeping your house up to the standards of a baker!”

“Yes, Nonna,” Sabine rolled her eyes, struggling to keep the irritation out of her voice. “I do try my best.” Tom puttered about in the living room, straightening up and being absolutely no help where it really counted.

“Well, that’s all I can hope for, I suppose,” Nonna sniffed. Sabine’s eye twitched. Nonna was a sweet woman, but unbearably conservative. It had taken almost a year for her to even accept that her precious son would be marrying a Chinese woman, or that that woman wasn’t much of a traditional house wife. Deep down, Sabine wondered if Nonna was so hard on her because she still hadn’t accepted her. At least she loved Marinette whole-heartedly.

Nonna moved on to the subject of cooking. Sabine listened dutifully. Yes, Nonna, she would start making pasta from scratch. Yes, Nonna, she would cook less Chinese food and more Italian food. Yes, Nonna, Marinette still planned to be a fashion designer when she grew up.

Impatience churned through Sabine with every word her mother-in-law spoke. Nonna had made it clear that she never thought Sabine was good enough, and that Sabine should listen to every thing that came out of her mouth and act on it accordingly. Sabine had never been raised to follow orders. She’d been groomed from a young age to take control of dozens hardened gang members, sometimes decades older than herself. She’d been taught to assert herself above everyone--especially those who thought they knew better than her.

Politely listening along and agreeing with Nonna felt like a betrayal to her mother’s memory, and like a lie to herself. She’d have given Marinette an hour-long lecture if she’d caught her doing what she was doing right now. Self-disgust rolled through her stomach as she continued to semi-pleasantly hum along with Nonna’s admonishments and complaints.

Tom, that wonderful man, eventually took the phone from Sabine and dragged his mother into conversation about his dad. Had she heard from him? No. Did she know where he was? No. Was she coming to Paris again soon? Thank every merciful being in all the heavens: no.

Sabine walked out of the room, frustration still buzzing under her skin. If Nonna hadn’t been Tom’s family, she wasn’t sure what she’d have done or said to the woman by now. She made her way through her house, down to the kitchen. It was her night to clean the dishes, and she attacked them with all the pent up frustration she’d gathered from her conversation with Nonna.

The front door opened, and Sabine whipped her head towards the noise. The clock read ten thirty pm. That had better be a thief and not a moody teenager that had just opened that door.

No such thing. Her daughter walked into the kitchen, casually making her way to the fridge. Sabine tensed in anger.

“Where exactly have you been?” Sabine snapped. “We’ve been worried sick about you.” Well, not exactly, but what would have been mild irritation before Nonna’s call was now a volcano of untapped fury. Sabine turned and crossed her arms, staring at her daughter.

“With the gang,” Marinette raised an eyebrow at her, gesturing to the brass knuckles on her hands and the steel-toe boots she wore. “Uncle Jiang and Uncle Delun found out about a rival gang trying to sell drugs near the south end of the city so we all went out to teach them a lesson.” She pulled out some leftovers from the previous night and turned the stove on.

“You went to a gang fight?” Sabine clenched her teeth. Marinette paused in her preparation of her dinner and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Yeah. So?”

“It’s Wednesday!” Sabine exclaimed. “You have school tomorrow!”

“I’m almost an adult, you can’t give me an eight o’clock curfew anymore! I know how much sleep I can function on, and you can’t keep bossing me around!”

“How else are we supposed to make sure you’re at school on time?” Sabine snapped. “You almost failed because of how many absences you had last year!”

“Well, this year my teacher’s later than I am almost every day!” Marinette shot back, putting the amount of food she wanted in a saucepan. “Now could you leave me alone--I did a good thing today; why are you yelling?”

“I’m not yelling!”

“What’s going on here?” Tom stepped into the kitchen to put the home phone back on its charger. His conversation with Nonna was apparently over. Just the presence of that cursed phone but Sabine back on edge. Tom glanced at Marinette’s dirty clothes, wincing at the bloodstains he saw. He glanced towards the door to the living room. “Is this a...Cheng family thing?”

“No,” Sabine answered before Marinette had the chance. “We’re talking about the fact that your daughter decided to join Delun and Jiang in a gang fight without telling us.”

“I like not being told,” Tom said, giving Marinette a thankful look. Sabine glared at him.

“You do like being told! We’re her parents, Tom. We set the boundaries--Jiang and Delun know not to have raids on week nights--Marinette has school, she needs her sleep!”

“I know what I’m doing,” Marinette snapped, removing the food from the stove and pouring it onto a plate. “I’m not a child, I don’t need naps or set sleep times. You can’t keep bossing me around and telling me what I can and can’t do!”

“I’m your mother--I’ll always boss you around and tell you what you can and can’t do.” Marinette scowled at her. Sabine turned to Tom, irritation pouring out around her. He took a minuscule step away and out of the kitchen. “Not another step!” He froze.

“Why are you bitching this much?” Marinette grabbed a plate and utensils, slamming them on the table. “It’s not even that big of a deal!”

“Tom! You’re just going to stand there and leave me to deal with this all by myself?” Sabine’s ire only grew as her husband started inching towards the kitchen door.

“Sorry, Dear.” He stopped moving, glancing between her and Marinette. Marinette placed herself between Sabine and Tom.

“Stop yelling at Dad!”

Sabine threw her hands in the air. “I’m losing complete control of this household!”

“Yes, Dear.”

“No, you’re just acting like a control freak!”

“Quiet, Marinette,” Sabine tried to stare her daughter down, but Marinette was too old for that. She just glared back.

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

“I am your mother, and I always will be--I will always tell you what to do.”

“You’re literally insane,” Marinette fumed. “And I’m way too tired to deal with it tonight.”

“This is all Jiang and Delun’s doing,” she decided. “She never had this attitude before, and I won’t put up with it!” Tom nodded along tiredly.

“Yes, Dear.”

Sabine had clearly told them how to run that gang before she left, and now they were running it into the ground. She told them about the limitations around Marinette’s involvement with the gang, and they quite clearly disregarded that, as well. They didn’t listen to her, so why would Marinette? She paced around the kitchen.

“I’ve told them before--she can’t go out on school nights. Do they listen? Of course not--why wouldn’t they act like every single other person in this family?”

Marinette scoffed and plopped in her chair, starting to eat her food.

“Don’t you start with that attitude with me, young lady,” Sabine warned. “Tom, this is completely unacceptable!”

Tom was almost completely out of the kitchen.

“It seems I need to go and teach them a lesson.”

“Yes, D--”

“Don’t you ‘yes, Dear’ me again!”

“Alright, Honey.”

Sabine whirled out of the kitchen and towards the hall closet. She muttered to herself as she got ready to leave.

“I can’t believe this is happening to me. How many years did I lead them, and now they’re showing this insubordination? Completely unacceptable.” She tugged on her jacket and her shoes before storming out of the house. She felt surrounded, compressed on all sides. It had all started with her cursed mother-in-law’s call. She’d felt so suffocated, forced to play nice and agree with everything the woman said. She didn’t even feel that tired after a full day of working the front of the bakery, and that was twelve hours of customer service.

But, no. Nonna wasn’t who she was after right now. She was going after her brothers.

Her brows furrowed and she couldn’t keep the scowl off her face as she reminded herself of instance after instance that her younger brothers totally disregarded her wishes or orders. This was after she’d been kind and given equal control of the gang to each of them! She could have easily given one brother total control. In fact, it would have been easier to choose just one. But no, she’d listened to their concerns and fought to have control split in half for them.

She stomped through the streets. She knew where they’d be--she always knew. They would regret taking Marinette out on a school night and not telling her.

Marinette huffed as she continued attacking the food in front of her. Her fingers ached, her cheek throbbed, and her hip was bruised from where a rival gang-member kicked her. She was exhausted and the lure of her queen sized, memory foam mattress with a down duvet sounded like heaven. Her eyes were already getting harder and harder to keep open, and she was just eating.

Tom dropped into the chair next to her, sighing. She knew that posture. He wanted her to go after her mom and make sure she stayed safe. Marinette groaned, dropping the fork on her plate.

“No!”

“Please, Marinette,” Tom pleaded. “She didn’t mean anything earlier, she was just frustrated. Nonna called.”

Marinette pursed her lips. She loved Nonna, but she wasn’t blind. She knew how irritating she was to Sabine. She picked up her fork again, and her muscles felt like honey--completely liquid and so slow to move. Marinette sighed. “But I’m tired.”

“Did you know you were a week overdue?” Tom said conversationally. Marinette dropped her head on the table in front of her. Most mothers used the birth story as a guilt trip to get their kid to do anything they wanted. She’d seen Nonna use the technique on her dad countless times. That didn’t happen in Marinette’s family. For whatever reason, Tom was the one to use her birth as a way to cajole her into doing things she didn’t want to. “She was in labor with you for over twenty hours. We also got to the hospital late. They couldn’t--”

“Give her an epidural,” Marinette completed, grumbling. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. I’ll go check on her after I’m done eating.”

“Thank you!” Tom beamed. Marinette smiled back at him through her exhaustion. It was impossible to stay irritated after her dad smiled. He was so contagiously happy, it was cute.

He waited with her until she was done, washing the dishes for her as she went to follow her mom. Marinette couldn’t help but grumble as she grabbed a jacket and hat. Wasn’t it Mom’s night to do the dishes?

Sabine broke down the door to the rundown restaurant that the gang was meeting in tonight. It had once been her favorite hideout. The restaurant had gone out of business years before even Sabine had taken over, and the gang had already claimed it as theirs. Everything reminded her of the sixties, from the checkered floor to the old-fashioned bar to the broken neon sign on the wall. It was cute, and now it was the only hideaway which hadn’t been affected by an Akuma or Makara.

Everyone inside jumped to their feet, tensed and ready for a fight. Fifty well-trained fighters all alert and willing to attack her, but Sabine wasn’t worried. She looked past everyone, searching for her brothers. The gang saw who it was, and the irate look on her face. Those that recognized her face sat warily, while those who didn’t know her personally but must have heard stories about her stayed standing. Everyone looked towards the doors which led to the kitchen. So, that’s where Jiang and Delun were?

She stormed through the restaurant, shoving past her niece and some new recruit she’d never seen before, mind solely fixed on giving her brothers a severe wake up call.

“What exactly do you idiots think you’re doing?” Sabine demanded as soon as she pushed the double doors open and let herself into the kitchen. The kitchen had been completely renovated. It was outfitted with a gas stove, two working ovens, a refrigerator, and a deep freezer. There was a center aisle with stacks of cooking utensils, and along the side was a cupboard full of cutlery and plates. Delun and Jiang were seated at the center aisle, opposite to each other. They seemed to be in deep conversation, but Sabine didn’t care.

She stepped up to them, the doors flapping dramatically behind her, and poked her finger in Jiang’s chest. “Marinette came home half an hour ago--ten thirty? You know she has a curfew, and boundaries! No gang fights on weeknights. How dare you ignore my rules?”

Jiang pushed her finger off of him, and Delun narrowed his eyes at her. “Well in case you forgot, Miss Old and Naggy, you’re not in the gang anymore! We don’t have to listen to anything you say!”

Sabine narrowed her eyes at him. She’d been watching out for these brats their entire lives and this is what they had to say to her? “Well in case you forgot, Mister Stupid Face, I am in the gang, I’m just not active. And, in case you forgot, I was a full leader before you took over half of it. I was more a part of the gang than you ever were or ever will be!”

“Well, it’s not like I asked you to give me half!”

“Does your brain do anything but collect dust? If I gave the whole thing to Jiang, you’d be a laughingstock, and you’d end up hating him and me. I thought about you twenty years ago, and you can’t even do me the decency of telling my daughter to go home when you know she has a curfew?”

“Marinette is an adult,” Jiang reasoned. “She can make her own decisions.”

“Don’t you dare!” Sabine snapped. “You don’t know her as well as I do. She can’t be like us, she needs to graduate high school, at least!”

There was a pause, and her younger brothers exchanged glances. Delun frowned down at her. “This is all from Tom, isn’t it?” He crossed his arms.

Irritation crossed Jiang’s face. “That does sound like something he’d say, doesn’t it?” Both brothers nodded in agreement with each other.

“This has nothing to do with him,” Sabine said. “He didn’t even care--why do you think he’s not here with me?”

“He’s not allowed here, and you know that,” Delun said with false pity. She glared at him, but he didn’t seem to care. That was one downside of having grown up with them. None of her threatening looks worked on them; they’d seen them too many times for the looks to be effective anymore.

“It seems just like him to send you here to fight his battles for him,” Jiang agreed. “That’s just what a coward would do.”

“He’s a good man,” Sabine defended. “And we’re not talking about him--we’re talking about the two of you not listening to me!”

“No, you’re ashamed that you got caught acting like someone’s guard dog, and you’re trying to divert our attention,” Jiang said.

“I can’t believe you married that idiot.”

“He’s not an idiot!” Sabine said vehemently. “He’s smarter than the two of you put together. He’s run his own business for years, and he takes care of us--all of us!”

There was a slight change in the air, and the siblings all paused for a second, right before the sirens started blaring in the streets.

(It was later posted on the increasingly-popular Ladyblog that someone had seen a Makara being created. The guest left a shaky video along with the following description of what they witnessed:

(I was just out on a walk because I have insomnia and sometimes walking around helps tire me out. I’d just left my apartment and turned the corner, on my way to my local grocery store, when the air started to shimmer. I know, it sounds crazy, but it’s true! Then, the air suddenly became so humid it was like I was physically in a bath or something. I saw a purple circle with a bunch of weird symbols inside--you can see it really clearly in the video. There was also a noise in the air, like a woman was talking. She only spoke for a few seconds, but I definitely heard the word ‘destroy.’ I tell you, if I slept, I’d be getting nightmares about it. Totally terrifying.

(As it had been confirmed by multiple people that Akuma were always made after the appearance of a Makara, and from a few questioned victims that they heard a male voice, it soon became common knowledge that whoever made the Makara was not the one in charge of the Akuma. As the Makara all exuded a rotting fish smell, the creator was furthermore referred to as Pisces.)

None of the triplets moved, daring the others to move first. A young man barged through the doors to the kitchen.

“The Makara is a few streets down from the Seine,” he reported. Delun waved him away and Jiang nodded thanks. Sabine forced herself to forget about her pride. Knowing Tom, he’d have sent Marinette after her to make sure she stayed safe. Marinette was fine on her own and would get to a bunker. Tom was alone at home, though. Without either her or Marinette to protect, he’d allow himself to be pushed and shoved to the back of the mob, if he bothered leaving at all. She needed to go home, to get him to safety. She moved towards the faded blue double door.

“And where are you going?” Jiang called after her. She heard him get off the chair and move towards her. “You come all the way here, barge into our meeting, kind of yell at us a little, and you don’t even stay for ten whole minutes?”

“You heard Yuanjun,” Delun added, moving to stand next to Jiang. “The Makara is all the way by the Seine.” They were so utterly infuriating Sabine couldn’t handle it sometimes.

“That’s near my house!” Sabine snarled. “I need to go home, to--”

“Ohh,” Delun smirked, elbowing Jiang in humor. “I get it. She’s going to check on her useless husband.”

Jiang scoffed. “Sabine? You’re so worried about that wimp you can’t even trust him to handle himself in a Makara attack?”

“He’s not used to scares like we are! He’s a sweet and gentle man--”

“Those are just other words for ‘he’s a pansy.’” Delun noted. The sirens kept blaring outside, but Sabine’s fatal pride got to her. She turned back to them, all the anger and stress of the night gathering inside of her until she couldn’t hold it in.

“He’s not a pansy!” Sabine exploded. “He’s not a coward, he’s not a weakling, he’s not any of those names you like to call him--he’s just good!” Her brothers just looked at her in amusement.

“Sureeee he’s not,” Jiang agreed sarcastically.

“Except, you’re wrong,” Delun said immediately.

“Think about it, Sabine,” Sabine hated it when Jiang used that calm voice he used when he thought he was dealing with someone less intelligent than himself. “He’s never been in a fight, he cries when Marinette gets hurt, and he thinks we’re a bad influence on her!” He looked genuinely put out by the last point. Sabine would have felt more sympathy for him on any other day, but at the moment, she was too pissed off.

“No, I think you’re a bad influence on her.”

Completely ignoring her, Delun added: “Also, have you heard his last name?” Sabine rolled her eyes. Not this again.

“Dupain?” Jiang acted confused.

“More like Du-pansy!”

“We’ve been married for twenty years! When are you going to get over yourselves--and quit it with that stupid nickname! It wasn’t funny at our wedding, and it certainly isn’t funny two decades later!” Sabine’s head spun with pure rage, and both her brothers stepped back from her. Jiang pointed behind her, eyes wide and mouth dropped open. Delun reached towards her, but she jerked back. She came here to teach them a lesson, and by God, they would listen to her! “He’s my husband--he’s your family--can’t you try to be nicer? Is there any point in making fun of his name if that has nothing to do with the person inside?”

A cold feeling spread through her shoulder.

“Sabine!” her brothers shouted in alarm. Almost everyone from the front of the restaurant pushed their way into the kitchen at the sound of a potential threat. They all paused as they saw Sabine. She wasn’t sure what they saw that would make them react in such a way.

“Would you like to help me protect Paris?” a soothing male voice asked.

Oh, so that’s what they saw. She’d read the Labyblog, like almost everyone in Paris. She knew who this was. And she knew she absolutely couldn’t accept whatever he offered.

“No!” she said firmly, clenching her hands. Something tried to wrap around her, like spiderwebs. It wasn’t physical, but it was like a feeling between her skull and her brain. It itched, and it was uncomfortable, but she could also see how it would be soothing to some people. She shook her head, and the strands backed off.

“I can give you something in return,” the voice offered. “I am Hawkmoth. I always keep my promises.” Sabine’s eyes dropped as he spoke, but she snapped them open. She wasn’t some teenager--she was almost fifty years old; she wouldn’t be coerced into becoming some monster because of a pretty voice.

“I don’t want anything. Leave me alone!” The silk strings hugged her again, now covering more than just her head. They slipped down her neck, to the top of her shoulders. This time it was harder to fight them off. She started to sweat, and she had to close her eyes to keep from falling on her face.

“Everyone wants something,” Hawkmoth chuckled. The strings came up around her once again, starting at her head and making it down to her hips. Sabine found it almost impossible to push them off her, but she eventually managed. She panted, vaguely hearing distressed and cautious voices around her. Someone was taking photos, and someone else argued about recording what was happening. Hawkmoth continued to speak. “I can guess what you want. You’re feeling unheard--you want others to listen to you, to believe you. I can do that.” He sounded so earnest, so trustworthy, like he could and would do as he promised. But Sabine knew better than to trust people who promised the impossible. She opened her mouth to argue, to say she would never consent to make a deal with the idiot who made Akuma.

“N-n-n--” she couldn’t say the word. It just couldn’t come out of her mouth. She tried harder, but it felt like her head was going to explode. The spider silk spiraled around her one final time, quickly spinning from her head down her neck, under her skin. She felt it slithering through her, down her stomach to her hips, her calves, and finally her feet. The strands tightened until she couldn’t breath or fully control her body anymore. .

“Just accept,” the voice sighed, and Sabine shivered. “It’ll be easier for you.”

“N-n--” The strings in her jaw kept her from moving her lips. She couldn’t say it. Her head pounded and her vision swam. Hawkmoth continued to urge her, and the strings constricted around her, tighter and tighter. Before she knew it, just to get rid of the pain, she was gasping: “Anything for you, Hawkmoth.”

“Excellent.”

Sabine wanted to punch the stupid moron in the face.

Marinette wanted so badly to go to bed. She knew she was off her game: her hands, her face, her legs--everything hurt. She’d already been so tired from the gang fight that just going check on her mom had been tiring. Fighting a Makara exhausted her more than it ever had before, and she was ashamed that she’d had to rely on Cat Noir as much as she had.

A police pegasus landed next to her. It had freaked her out the first few times she’d seen them. The police had taken all the flying horses from the Akuma attack which made animals grow wings and trained them into working animals. Now, the police were equipped with both walking and flying dogs and horses, and Marinette was totally used to seeing them fly around the city.

“What is it now?” she snapped at the cop. Officer Madeline frowned at her.

“Akuma sighting. It’s on its way and it doesn’t look like it’s in too much control of itself. It keeps crashing into buildings.”

“Akuma aren’t usually destructive like that,” Marinette frowned. Officer Madeline looked down at her,

“Well, this one is. I’m not lying or anything.”

“I didn’t say you were, I was just making an observation!”

The Makara continued trying to move. Marinette’s Lucky Charm rope was still wrapped tightly around its bony wrists. Its eyeless body and skull thrashed against the street, breaking through to the sewage pipes below. Brown water and some questionable other particles gushed from the pipes to surround the Makara and any police officers too close for their own good. There were multiple cries of surprise or disgust, but the officers kept firing at the Makara. Its crab-like shell continued to deflect all attempts to defeat it.

Cat Noir stood on one of the jagged edges of the shell to look for a weakness of any sort. The Makara’s tail rose to squish him. Acting on instinct, Marinette threw out her yo-yo, grabbed him from around the abdomen, and pulled him back to her.

“Thanks,” he sounded shaken. She didn’t blame him. If she hadn’t pulled him away, there was no knowing if he could have jumped away in time. He might have been killed by the Makara.

“There’s an Akuma on its way,” she reported. “Can you handle it?” Normally she would be the one to go after the Akuma, but with how tired she was, she didn’t even want to think of chasing down an incompetent flying monster. She would much rather deal with the tied down crab.

“Sure.” He sounded almost relieved. He planted one end of his baton on the street and extended it, riding on top of it to get to the Akuma.

Marinette took a deep breath, searching for her second wind. Now that she’d sent Cat Noir away, she had no backup. She was now the only one who could keep all the officers safe.

She ran at the Makara, imagining something to create. She could try a bat, like she’d done with the first anger-inducing Makara, but something told her it would take too long. She would have to use something different this time, something better equipped for the Makara in front of them now.

(If anyone had been looking at Cat Noir at that moment, they would have seen him studying the perplexing form of the Akuma. It continued to yell at the one controlling her, telling him to leave her alone and to go to hell. They would have seen the Akuma clenching her fists until blood dripped from her palms. Cat Noir hesitated before striking the Akuma, a flash of recognition in his eyes. The red around the Akuma's eyes glowed brighter. It struggled to disobey the order, but the Akuma wobbily flew into Cat Noir, throwing him back a dozen meters.)

“Lucky Charm,” she mumbled, and her fingers heated with magic, and a giant axe appeared in her arms. It was lighter than anyone would expect, and it would be able to grow or shrink as she needed it to. She kept running, almost stumbling on a loose rock. The world around her dimmed into shades of gray, until the only color she could see were the creature's legs.

She wasn’t surprised that was where the magic wanted her to go. The entire Makara was armored. From head to tail, it was covered in jagged, spiked orange armor, like a crab. The Makara had a tail and no visible eyes, though it clearly had no difficulty sensing where everyone was. It had been exceedingly difficult to get close enough to wrap its legs with a magic rope created through Lucky Charm. Now, with the Makara stuck on the ground, it was still near impossible to get near because of the spiked tail.

(Cat Noir was struggling to contain the Akuma, for whatever reason. Any spectator might have attributed his lack of attention to his near death a few minutes earlier, but Cat Noir would later neither confirm nor deny. The Akuma went through phases of clumsy rebellion and precise movement. The juxtaposed personalities seemed to throw Cat Noir off. He would stand back and watch the Akuma as she crashed into everything around her, but as the red around her face glowed brighter, she would turn on him with a fierce determination. Analysts would later note that the way Cat Noir held his baton was reminiscent of a fencer holding a saber. Unfortunately, a saber did little to no good against an apparent professional martial artist.)

Marinette rushed forward, holding the axe at the ready. Just as she got close enough to swing it across the Makara’s legs, its tail knocked into her from the side. She didn’t see it coming at all, despite how vigilant she’d been, and her exhaustion kept her from keeping a grip on the axe. It sailed through the air and landed on the rope she’d created earlier.

The Makara screeched in triumph. Its tail swept forward again, but Marinette pulled herself away with her yo-yo before it had a chance to hit her. It was just as much of a battle to keep her eyes open as it was to face the Makara, but she couldn’t slack off now. She’d already sent Cat Noir off to deal with the Akuma; she couldn’t expect him to take down the Makara, too.

The Makara stood up wobbly on legs which were as tall as any previous Makara. Sharp points at the end of each of its six legs stabbed holes in the street. Its short cylindrical body looked comically disproportionate perched on top of those legs. The tail thrashed around perilously, knocking into buildings and one unsuspecting and unfortunate police pegasi. A unit of police went after the downed officer and animal.

(The Akuma eventually lost hold of herself completely. Cat Noir scrambled to catch up to her, but she flew too fast for him to overtake her. The Akuma flew over a few cops checking on downed officers. From later testimonies from the affected policemen, it was like they lost their sense of self. They listened for one voice, and they would go to any length to obey what she commanded; she ordered them to incapacitate Cat Noir.)

The Makara threw off the last of the restraints and shook itself off, like a wet dog. It spun in a quick circle, then set off again. Marinette almost heaved in despair. It had spun around and was now on a direct path to her house.

Marinette threw her yo-yo after the Makara and maneuvered herself around it as her earrings beeped in her ears. She had sixteen minutes before she transformed back, and she had no snacks on hand to recharge Tikki. Sixteen minutes to take down the Makara.

She tried to swing behind the Makara, coming at it from all different angles, doing her best to find its blind spot. Nothing worked. She tried from the front, but that was even worse. It seemed for all that it didn’t have eyes, this one was the most aware of all the Makara they’d faced yet. She was getting desperate; with every passing second, they were getting closer and closer to her bakery, her home.

(The affected officers turned their tasers to Cat Noir. From every available footage, it seemed that he was unaware the officers had been touched or affected at all. Cat Noir leaped to the Akuma, extending his staff, like he was going to swat her to the side, and possibly attempt to immobilize her off the main road. The woman underneath the magic didn't seem to have any control left, and there were no more moments of stumbling resistance. Cat Noir, too, had lost his hesitation when facing her. The officer closest to him shot his taser at him, but Cat Noir saw it before it could hit him. He twisted to the side, landing on the ground. Before he could get his bearings, the Akuma flew on top of him and reached towards him. 

(He grabbed her wrists, dropping his baton in the process. Though none of the cameras on the street had audio, witnesses would say that the Akuma distinctly growled before pulling Cat Noir up and away from the street.)

Marinette landed on the ground and just went running towards it. Nothing else had worked. She needed to try something--fast. She pushed magic into her legs, groaning at the physical toll of using so much of Tikki’s magic so close to the end of her transformation.

She sped up, rushing underneath the Makara’s tail and under its belly. She had to keep running to keep up with it as it scuttled about. Debris fell around her in a constant shower, and she could hear horses running to keep up with them.

She’d lost the axe back where the Makara had freed itself, so all she had were fifteen minutes and a magic yo-yo. She threw it up and around the Makara’s legs again. Unfortunately, it had gotten smarter since it had last been trapped. It immediately sent its tail underneath its belly and pulled at the string, loosening the ties before Marinette could pull it to the ground. All she could do was tighten it around the tail and get yanked up to the Makara’s back.

Maybe if she tightened the yo-yo around the Makara’s tail and pulled, it would break. Then Cat Noir and the police would have an easier time getting to the Makara and taking it down. Then she could go home and sleep.

Her yo-yo constricted around the tail, and Marinette planted her feet against an edge of its shell. She used it as leverage, but she could feel the ends of it digging into the bottoms of her feet. It wouldn’t cut, but it might bruise. A familiar building, a familiar rooftop, a familiar balcony became clear. She grit her teeth, pulling harder; she could see her bakery now, it was less than half a mile away. She couldn’t let the Makara go there. She called again on more magic from Tikki.

“This is going to be worse than last time,” Tikki warned. “You’ve used up all your reserves. Are you sure?”

She couldn’t afford not to. That was her home, her family’s business. If it got destroyed, her family would have nowhere to live, and no way to make enough money to rent anywhere. She had to do whatever it took to save that building.

Marinette was about to call on the magic again, to tell Tikki to just do it, when something flew by her face. It was so quick, she’d only had a second to see it, but she had no doubt about what she’d just seen.

It was the Akuma. Like all others, it had the wings, the glowing face, the fur all over its body. And it had been holding her partner. She hadn’t been able to see more. What the hell had happened?

The Makara continued its trajectory towards her bakery. The tail jerked away from her, but she readjusted her feet and pulled harder.

“Ladybug!” Cat Noir screamed. His voice was already fading as the Akuma dragged him away. “Help!”

“Well, this doesn’t look good,” Tikki noted, also reminding Marinette than she now had ten minutes left as Ladybug before she transformed back. “What are you going to do?”

Chapter Text

Marinette was panting, trembling, frozen in terror. Every second she waited, the Makara moved closer to her home, and her partner was taken further away. There was no more time to argue with herself, she had to make a choice. She allowed herself one more moment of indecision, then she released the Makara’s tail.

She threw her yo-yo in front of it, dodging all the attacks from the tail. It apparently recognized her as the one which kept trapping and attacking it, and it now held a personal vendetta against her. She dodged it all, forcing herself to focus on what was important. What had her family taught her her whole life, what did her gang fight for, what did she value above all else?

She crashed through her balcony window. She heard her father cry out in surprise. He was in her parents room. Typical. If she or her mother weren’t there, he wouldn’t leave. He had the mentality that nothing would happen--the Makara destroyed other buildings, the Akuma went after other people; nothing would happen to him. When she or Sabine were present, he would even risk the chance, but if he was left to his own devices, he’d happily camp at home and wait the attack out.

She ran through the hallways, taking possibly her last look at these carpets, this hallway, her things. Tom crept out of his bedroom, face blanching when he saw her. He tried to stammer something, but she didn't have the time to comfort him. She grabbed him and pulled him along with her, back to her bedroom. She forced him onto the balcony, grabbed his arm, and swung them away from the building. The Makara was close enough that its tail swung at her. She couldn’t even look behind--all she could do was hear it destroy her home, her life.

Her muscles trembled, but she was no longer in danger of falling asleep. Adrenaline pumped through her. Everything was so clear, everything was moving too slowly for her.

Marinette kept swinging, holding onto her dad with all her strength, moving closer to the police. They’d take care of him. They shouted at her as she dropped him off on a building next to them, but they had flying horses; they could get him down to street level. Tom tried to grab her arm, to get her to talk to him, but she shrugged him off. Her partner was out of sight, and she was too worried about him to feel back about ignoring her dad.

Her fingers trembled as she threw her yo-yo again. Nine minutes left. Damnit, if only she had a dessert with her. She whirled around, shoving her hands into the pockets of her dad’s apron. He always had old cookies or something in there. It drove her mom mad, and he did it just to get a rise out of her. Now, it would be her saving grace. She grabbed a cookie, ignored her dad’s confused stutters, and swung away.

She threw herself up in the air, scouring for anything out of the ordinary. Whatever was up with this Akuma, it wasn’t normal--it wasn’t interested in the Makara at all. So what did it want? And why had it taken her partner with it?

She landed on a roof. She’d be no good to Cat Noir if she had to leave him in eight minutes. She detransformed, shoved the cookie in Tikki’s mouth, and suited up again, bone weary. Again, she threw herself up in the air, scouring the Parisian horizon, looking for something--anything--which would lead her to her partner.

“Just go straight,” Tikki said. “He’s close. I’ll lead you to him.” Marinette mentally cursed at her kwami. How could she sound so calm when her partner had been kidnapped? She swung forward, the icy wind biting at her exposed skin. If she wasn’t so worked up, Marinette would have been frozen stiff. As it was, she couldn’t actually feel her toes, fingers, or nose. There were more pressing matters, though--like the fact that Cat Noir was still in the air, kicking at the Akuma trying to...what was it doing exactly?

She landed on a roof and wrapped the Akuma in her yo-yo. A small part of her marveled at how much more precise she’d gotten with the tool--the distance between the Akuma and Cat Noir had been less than a foot, but she’d still been able to get just her intended target. She gathered the string in her hands and threw the Akuma away.

Her partner screamed, flailing in the air. Marinette’s eyes widened, heart stopping. Why wasn’t he using his baton to save himself?

She called the yo-yo back, throwing it at him, pulling him to her on the roof. He crashed into her, but she stood firm, holding him steady. His fingers gripped her arms. He was shaking, unable to speak from how heavily he was breathing. Behind him, the Akuma dove at them again. She shoved him down, and he collapsed at her feet.

She jumped up, grabbing the Akuma’s wings. It grabbed and pulled at her hair, scraping her scalp with its sharp talons. Marinette grit her teeth through the pain, blinking the tears back. She couldn’t do this; she was too tired to deal with its wings.

“Lucky Charm!” Her fingers glowed. Scissors. With one snip, the Akuma screeched, and the two of them dropped to the rooftop. The Akuma’s back bled, and it glared at Ladybug. Marinette’s mouth dropped open. That was her mom. What the hell had happened to her?

The Akuma ran at her, and Marinette recognized the look in her eyes. She shifted into her stance and fought against the older, more experienced woman. Her only chance at winning was her speed, her desperation, and the fact that she also had her yo-yo.

Her mother aimed a kick at her, but Marinette blocked it, kicking at her stable leg simultaneously. Sabine anticipated this and jumped to dodge. Marinette threw a combination of punches at her mom’s face and chest. All of them were blocked, and Marinette found herself too busy throwing and blocking hits to pull out her yo-yo. She needed her partner. She was about to call for him, but he heard her silent call first.

“Simple Release!”

Marinette dropped low and swept her leg out, finally catching Sabine off guard. She jumped forward, grabbing the Akuma’s hair, pulling it back. She twisted around, pulling the Akuma up and held it in a choke-hold. Her entire body shook. She was so cold, so pumped on adrenaline, and so, so afraid. She looked at Cat Noir, who was reaching for the Akuma’s shoulder.

The butterfly flew lazily towards Cat Noir’s claw. Marinette threw her yo-yo at it with as much anger as she could, purifying it with all the fury she felt buzzing inside of her. These stupid Akuma, these stupid butterflies, these goddamned incompetent police. They’d had two years to figure out who was making the Akuma and Makara, and they’d gotten nowhere. Instead, it had taken two teenagers (with magical powers and underground connections) a couple of months to get further in the investigation than they had ever gotten.

“Pick her up,” Ladybug told Cat Noir. “I can hold you with one arm, and I’ll swing with the other.”

“Are you sure?”

“There’s no time to waste. The Makara’s still on the loose!” Marinette snapped, tears pricking at her eyes again. Sweat dripped down her neck--or was that blood? Cat Noir picked up Sabine with such care, it surprised Marinette. She hooked an arm around him and took off. A beeping caught her attention. Without looking down, she winced. “Do you need to leave?”

“I just need to recharge,” he grimaced. “I’ll be back as soon as I can!”

“Please don’t take too long.”

Tikki pointed out Cat Noir’s baton on the street below, and Marinette dropped him off next to it, Sabine still in his arms. Then she turned and swung towards the Makara. It wasn’t hard to track down. She knew how to get home from here. From the demolished bakery, she simply followed the trail of destruction, bitterness and despair fighting for dominance in her chest. She grit her teeth against it. If there was one thing she knew from experience, it was that fighting from emotion was a sure-fire way to get seriously injured, or die.

She pushed down all her emotions and swung through the street, getting closer to the Makara. It’s tail seemed to have forgotten all about her, because as she drew closer, it didn’t go out of its way to knock her out of the air.

Remembering her previous encounter with it, Marinette fell to the ground and ran underneath it, placing herself just under its belly. It was now so late at night that it was almost impossible to see anything too far from a street lamp, and she could feel a new layer of ice forming on the ground.

She threw her yo-yo up and it snagged on a jagged edge of the Makara’s shell. It twisted as it felt her pull on the string, throwing her to the side. It screamed, pausing its rampage to figure out what was going on. The tail whirled around, searching for any and all possible foes. The police backed off, and Marinette was left to face the Makara alone. She continued climbing up her yo-yo, hindered by the Makara’s constant twisting and thrashing. Her fingers were too numb to properly grip the string, so she kept slipping. Seconds felt like hours as she continued the seemingly impossible climb to the Makara’s back.

She stood on the shell’s edge. Struggling to keep her balance on the uncooperative Makara, she tied one end of her yo-yo string around her waist and wrapped the other one an outcropping of its shell.

“Lucky Charm,” She mumbled, trying not to bite her tongue off. Her hands heated, and she almost fell off the Makara’s back, but her yo-yo anchored her to it. Her fingers tingled, and the smell of the Makara made it hard to breathe.

In a flash, a giant hammer with an axe-edge in the middle of it appeared in her hands. She braced her legs, gripping the shell with her toes for extra leverage. With all the strength of her and Tikki combined, she slammed the hammer-axe hybrid into the Makara’s shell.

It jerked suddenly beneath her, and she was dislodged from the shell. She fell, only saved by the anchor she’d made earlier. She was thrown forward, almost slamming her head into another jagged spike jutting out of the shell. She brought the weapon behind her head, swinging it down in front of her. The spike was cut clean off, and out of it spewed a pressurized gas.

The Makara fought like never before, but Marinette now had hope. Not bothering to pull herself back to where she’d originally anchored herself, Marinette planted her feet on the side of the Makara’s shell, like she was rock climbing, and swung at all the spikes she could reach, willing the weapon to turn into more of an axe than a hammer. It obeyed and grew impossibly large, but no harder to wield.

Soon she was surrounded by pressurized air. It smelled sweet, like the after-scent of a defeated Makara. She pushed off the shell and propelled herself to the side, cutting off jagged edges and spikes and anything else her axe could reach. At some point, Cat Noir joined her. He saw what she was doing, and copied. He didn’t have any way to keep himself on the Makara, but she kept an eye on him, ready to dive after him if he needed any more saving tonight.

“Hey!” An officer on a police pegasus hovered near Cat Noir, yelling to get their attention. “You have to retreat! The Makara is disintegrating, get to the ground!”

She pulled herself up with minimal hindrance from the Makara, and hurriedly untied herself from the yo-yo. Cat Noir extended his staff to the street and grabbed her, lowering them both to the ground just as the Makara dissolved. The fresh scent fell over them like a fine mist. Finally, this hellish night was over.

On the ground, Ladybug’s legs gave up on her. Tikki tutted in her mind, telling her to pace herself better next time. She’d be lucky if she could walk tomorrow. Marinette didn’t want to think about tomorrow. She didn’t want to think about tonight. She didn’t want to think at all. If she did, she would have to remember what had happened.

She had lived in the bakery her entire life. The wall by the kitchen had her height milestones since she had first learned to stand. The line at five foot had been run over so many times since she’d stopped growing in sixth grade that there was a groove in the wall. The second step creaked, and the fifth step had a dip on the side--Marinette had made a note of both of these things when she’d first started sneaking out two years ago. There was a loose tile just behind the display case of the bakery, and Marinette once stashed a love note to her third grade crush there, imagining he would find it and ask him to marry her.

Her mom had been making dinner in that kitchen her entire life. Her father had been waking up and making bread at five in the morning her entire life. She’d been climbing up the ladder to her room her entire life. Now it was all gone.

There would never be any more all-nighters in the cozy bakery kitchen as her family scrambled to complete a last minute order. There would never be another hot-chocolate special in December. There would never be another destroyed tray from her dad refusing to believe that the third oven in the bakery was broken.

Her room was gone, her designs were gone, her things were gone. Everything was destroyed. It was just a pile of rubble.

Spots danced in front of her eyes. Where were they going to live now? What was going to happen to the members of the gang which relied on the earnings of the bakery to stay afloat? How were they going to make ends meet?

Cat Noir looked down at her in concern. “Are you ok?”

Liquid ran down the back of her neck and she shivered. Her feet felt swollen with fresh bruises, and her legs quivered just from standing. The muscles in her upper arms spasmed, and she knew they could continue to do so for a few more days, at least. The toll of using so much magic was catching up to her. The horizon tilted suddenly, and Cat Noir grabbed her as she slumped. The events of the night kept replaying in her mind: she’d seen her partner almost die twice, she’d almost died, her mom had gotten Akumatized, her dad was who-knows-where, likely crying from the stress of it all. She’d lost her home, her parents' past and future, and she was powerless to help them fix it.

“What’s wrong? Ladybug? Are you ok?”

She was about to say ‘no,’ but she lost consciousness before she could get the words out.

(Cat Noir caught Ladybug and held her against him, trying to figure out what to do next. The scene after Ladybug fainted was pandemonium. Reporters scurried out of hidden cracks and holes in the city like rats, shoving their cameras and microphones in Cat Noir’s face, asking questions and demanding answers. The police were trying to get them to leave, but they were exhausted, freezing cold, and had very little success. Cat Noir greeted the reporters with a cold look, lifting Ladybug into his arms. He stood there, staring at the reporters until they quieted some.

(“Ladybug is a symbol of peace in this city. She’s always here for us, always telling us we can lean on her. Tonight, she leaned on me, and she needs to lean on you, too. Leave her alone, let her rest. Don’t you owe her that simple courtesy?” His tone left the air around him balmy in comparison. With one last glare thrown at the admonished media, Cat Noir extended his baton and left the scene, Ladybug in tow. It was too dark to see where he took them.

(The above statement was taken as a declaration of love from Cat Noir to Ladybug by many of the news reporters on mainstream media. Regulars of the Ladyblog soon took it upon themselves to fight for the opinion that they were nothing more than friends, and continued trying to keep the Ladyblog a friendly, easy space for Ladybug and/or Cat Noir to log into. Ratings of news channels plummeted any time they reported on the supposed unrequited love Cat Noir had for his partner.

(It was later confirmed that the Akuma from the night of the attack was Sabine Cheng, wife of Tom Dupain. The officers affected by her powers when she was an Akuma asserted that they no longer felt compelled to listen to her. It was noted, however, that one of those three officers was always seen by Sabine’s side if she was ever given some sort of ticket, vouching for her and helping her fight any charges.)

Natalie tried to keep her heels from clicking on the stone floor. She was used to the sound of plastic heel against tile, but the bumpy texture of the stone made her fear for her five hundred euro shoes. The room she entered was less of a room and more of a cellar. It was one level underground, made completely of stone with wood furniture strewn about. The space itself wasn't too big, just like the rest of the cottage. If she was to guess, she’d say the cabin was designed for a family of three in mind. Somehow, though, it seemed too small for even two people to live comfortably.

Natalie glanced around the cellar. The wooden door and chairs were faded and splintered. Dust gathered in all the corners, and the ancient air conditioner sputtered as it blasted heated air in the room. Halfway through the room, someone had placed metal bars, screwing them into the floor and the ceiling. The bars were thick, solid. Without a key, it would be impossible to open the door to the other side of the room.

Natalie gasped and, steeling herself against the dirt on the floor, knelt down in front of the bars. A slight figure sat in the corner furthest away from her. At her gasp, the blonde woman jerked, looking towards the door. Her green eyes widened, and she scrambled to sit opposite Natalie, grasping her hands with grimy hands. Natalie barely held in a grimace as she looked at the long, dirty fingernails on the woman.

“Emelie?” Natalie asked quietly, adding a bit of confused wonder to her voice. “This is where you’ve been?”

“You know me?” the woman sobbed. “Thank God--thank God. Can you get me out of here? Please--I don’t know if the other woman is here, but--”

“I can’t,” Natalie averted her gaze. Emelie didn’t even remember her? An ugly feeling swirled inside of her, thick and oily and it threatened to break through the calm face Natalie had spent a lifetime creating. “I don’t have a key.”

Emelie’s eyes dimmed. Natalie recited every nasty word she knew in her mind. Emelie had always been like that--the type to show exactly how she was feeling, right when she felt it.

“But, how did you find me? Do you know who took me?”

Natelie shook her head. “I can’t believe I found you myself. I wasn’t even looking. I like hiking, but I got lost. I was just looking for people and I found this cabin. While looking for someone to help me, I stumbled upon you.”

Something else dimmed in Emelie’s eyes, but Natalie no longer knew her well enough to know what it was that had disappointed her. The two sat in silence for a moment. Natalie’s feet were going numb. She shifted to stand up, but Emelie reached out, grabbing her coat sleeve.

“You know my name,” Emelie swallowed. “My husband. His name is Gabriel Agreste. Have you heard of him?”

Natalie nodded stiffly. Of course she’d heard of him. She loved him. She’d been there for him when Emelie couldn’t be. She was better for Gabriel than she had ever been, and if getting him to see that meant helping Pisces keep Emelie in this cell for however long it took until it took him to see the truth, then she’d do it.

“He’s rich,” Emelie said, digging through her pockets for something. “Please, give him this note. He can help you free me! Please, please try to get to him! Just say my name, he’ll see you: Emelie Adrienne Agreste!”

Natalie nodded, then tilted her head and held still, as though she’d heard something. She consciously furrowed her brow. “I must go now,” she whispered. Emelie nodded, but shoved something in Natalie’s hand. Natalie almost dropped it; it was a piece of paper, almost soft with how often it had been folded, and more brown than white.

“Give this to him--please don’t forget about me!”

Natalie nodded resolutely. “I will do my best.”

Emelie gave her a relieved smile, and Natalie offered her a small smile. As she turned, the smile dropped from her face. She put the paper in her pocket, wiping her hand on her pants. She couldn’t wait to get out of this God-forsaken cabin.

Gabriel stumbled through the halls, absolutely wrecked. His head ached, and his eyes throbbed. He closed his bedroom door behind him. Taking off his glasses, he rubbed the bridge of his nose and swallowed his sobs.

The victim he’d chosen had seemed perfect at first. Strong, capable, stubborn: she’d had all the makings of a powerful Akuma. She should have easily been able to track down the magical trail of the Makara and lead him to the creator--to the bastard who’d kidnapped his wife. Instead, the Akuma had been too stubborn. He’d had to take complete control, instantly losing any chance of following the Makara’s magical trail. 

On top of that, Cat Noir and Ladybug were getting too close to his identity for his comfort. Gabriel had lived as Hawkmoth for decades, and even in the last two years, he’d made countless Akuma and the police had been none the wiser about who he was. They didn’t even know his name. Now, the public was going to know about him. There was no way he could allow this to happen. The company would lose all partners, all business associates--thousands of people would lose their jobs. While he’d previously more or less ignored the duo, he now didn’t have that luxury--he had to keep his identity a secret.

Gabriel fell onto his bed, groaning as his back finally relaxed. He curled on his side, facing his bedside table where he kept a portrait of his wife. She was laughing at something he’d said, lit up from behind by a Hawaiian sunset. That had been their honeymoon. She was now twenty-three years older, but no less beautiful in his eyes. He missed her open expressions, her calming nature, her ability to get him to see the humor in any situation. She was his better half, and he found it near impossible to function without her.

Gabriel closed his eyes. A few tears leaked from his eyes, wetting the pillow beneath his head. “I miss you.”

Natalie sighed in pleasure as her heels clicked comfortably on the tile in Gabriel’s home. If she had anything to say about it, this would one day be her home, too. Grabbing her tablet, she scoured all her e-mails, searching for something she could inform Gabriel of. She couldn’t seek him out for no reason, she was just his personal assistant. She only spoke to him if there was something work-related to remind him of. Here it is: a photographer rescheduled. He would have to be notified immediately.

Natalie strode around the mansion, searching for Gabriel. There was no one else around, and Natalie found a kind of comfort in that. She was the only one around who could take up Gabriel’s attention, like she was special. Maybe one day he would think of her as special, too.

Natalie systematically made her way through the mansion, ignoring Adrien as he glared at her when she checked if Gabriel was in his room. He slammed the door in her face and she took that as a no. That only left one room left in the mansion: Gabriel’s bedroom.

She stood in front of the door, heart racing and blood rushing to her cheeks. Was this intentional? Was he starting to see her as something more? She clutched the tablet to her chest, took a deep breath, and slowly turned the knob on the door.

All the lights were off, but Natalie could still make out everything in the room. She took a moment to just soak it in. Directly opposite the door was a wall of massive windows, thick purple drapes covering them. The floor was covered with a plush blue-gray carpet. To the left was another set of doors, probably to the master bedroom. On the right was a California King sized bed with a canopy. The duvet was a darker blue than the carpet, and on either side was dark brown bedside tables. On the side closest to the door, Gabriel slept, fully clothed.

Natalie shook her head, amused. The dear man, he worked too hard for his own good. She hesitated, taking off her shoes. The carpet was soft and cool under her aching feet, and she flexed her toes in the soft material.

Gabriel made a noise, so after she put her shoes back on, Natalie made her way to his side. He had slept with his shoes on. She reached over him and pulled them off. His glasses had fallen to the ground, so she picked those up and placed them on the bedside table. She was sure there would be a picture of Emelie there, so she didn’t even look. This was a special moment; she wouldn’t ruin it for herself.

She reached her hand out and ran her fingers through his silver hair. Just as she remembered: unbearably soft. Tears gathered in Natalie’s eyes. She loved this man. She’d loved him for years. Why did he have to go and marry that bitch?

Tears stung her eyes. She dug around her pockets for a tissue or napkin of some sort. Instead, her fingers touched something which felt like paper. Confused, Natalie pulled it out of her pocket. She pursed her lips, recognizing the brown paper. It was the note Emelie had left her. She opened it and read it. It was too dark to do so comfortably, but she wasn’t about to turn on any lights--Gabriel was finally asleep, and she wasn’t going to be the one to wake him.

As she read through the missive, Natalie’s lips stretched into a smile. Well, wasn’t this useful? She pocketed the message, looked at Gabriel one more time, and walked out the door.