Chapter Text
“Well, it's drab, but at least Hawkmoth's fashion sense is improving.”
The very-nearly offended grimace of a tormented fashion critic that crossed Chat Noir's face had Ladybug struggling to hold back giggles, pressing a smooth, slightly-textured glove to her mouth. Looking like he'd just gulped down a carton of spoiled milk, one arm crossed over his chest, he pointed a judgmental clawed finger that screamed 'Really? You're going out in public like that?' towards the Akuma.
Based on her vast experience as an aspiring fashionista, not that Chat was aware of it, Ladybug had to agree. From their perch atop a building that overlooked an apparently random street in the troisième arrondissement, she and her partner surveyed the rather sombre akuma that was doing... nothing.
Well, it was strolling down the street, so not quite “nothing.”
Unlike the majority of Hawkmoth's typically colourful creations that made Marinette want to weep for the squandered potential of being able to literally create creature designs and outfits from your mind, this unnamed akuma was the opposite of flamboyant.
It had the appearance of an elderly, suited man, shambling his way down the street, and was completely devoid of any colour beyond variations of grey, its face like an emaciated and white crinkled up sheet as if he was two hundred years old. Likewise, it was not screaming in its lust for revenge, lamenting the state of the world, declaring its desire to upend the social order, or anything of the sort. Pedestrians fled, car brakes screeched, police sirens wailed as officers tried to redirect civilians, but the creature just plodded along.
She had been so focused on analyzing the akuma for any sign of its object, content to let it go for an afternoon stroll for the time being so long as it wasn't hurting anyone, that she yelped and drew out her yo-yo when a delicate *th-bump* sounded out behind her.
Chat only chortled, his cat ears twitching, as Mitsubachi straightened from her landing and joined them.
Laugh it up, kitty. Just you wait.
And her girlfriend would pay for that too, not that Kagami would know that Marinette's gentle teasing was a way of getting back at her for what she did to “Ladybug,” in light of the fact that Chat and Ladybug's identities remained secret.
They'd both enjoy it anyways. Adrien would too, judging from his reactions ever since they had started to uncover their feelings for all of each other on their “first date” to Andre's ice cream cart when Kagami insisted that they share three flavours of their own choosing. He liked watching them ... be happy, just as Marinette adored seeing the two teens, burdened with responsibilities, let their hair down to actually be teens.
“What do we have?” the costumed Kagami asked, settling a foot to the raised edge of the roof and leaning onto her knee to gaze down alongside them.
“No idea, Honey.” Chat rolled his shoulder, his hand pressed to the pivot point, limbering up. “Looks like Hawkmoth's not really feeling it today.”
The fuzz around Kagami's neck prickled up and bristled, looking for all the world like a sea of yellow needles, as she scowled.
“Then what are we waiting for?” Before Ladybug had the chance to intervene, Kagami pushed off the roof, angling down towards the street.
Ladybug shook her head with a roll of her eyes. Kagami did have a fencing date with Adrien this afternoon. Of course she wouldn't want to be late.
It was impossible not to smile at the impulsiveness – the complete lack of concern even if Marinette herself knew better than to act the same way. Neither of her partners were ones to really think before they acted when it came to this sort of thing, which had led to Kagami being unfit for the Dragon miraculous in the first place.
Unfortunate. It was kind of a thrill to think of her in something that was just off-Ladybug-red.
Down girl.
Not that the mental chastisement prevented her cheeks from taking on a colour that, similarly, was just off-Ladybug-red.
Her girlfriend's trompo caught on a lamppost, allowing her to readjust her approach and tuck into a flying kick, aimed at the akuma's head.
Chat just shrugged helplessly. He seemed to feel much the same way as her, and it was really something if Mitsubachi could out-impetuous Chat Noir. His face was alight with mischievousness and he chuckled while clambering up to the ledge and preparing to leap down to join Mitsubachi.
Confusion cut short the laugh with a choking gasp, his baton falling loose in limp hands.
Her gaze jerked down to street level.
Merde.
Stunned and unstable, trying to regain her footing, Mitsuabachi stood next to the grey akuma's body. A great tendril of smoky mist erupted from the sundered ruin that had once been its head. There was no blood or viscera. It was as if the whole mass of its head had just bust into a puff of vapour.
It turned and shambled forward, arms flailing towards Mitsubachi. When it released a larger gout of ephemeral mist that took on a vaguely prismatic hue as if it was a whole range of subtle colours while still somehow allowing the swirling cloud to appear completely colourless – and, no, that didn't make sense – the breast of its suit began to deflate and collapse, as if being evacuated. Even at a distance, the pungent odour of ozone assailed her, and Chat recoiled involuntarily to sneeze before stopping up his nose.
Where the hell was an akumatized object in that? Ladybug paused to take advantage of the opportunity to observe while in possession of this new information, eyes narrowing to focus on what parts of its physical form remained.
Her girlfriend, on the other hand, smirked at the challenge and seemed to decide to forgo any thought whatsoever. Mitsubachi's typical headlong assault proved less than effective as Hawkmoth's latest Akuma demonstrated in short order that it was all-but-impervious to physical force. Each of her lightning-fast blows merely blasted away another piece of the creature. Segments dispersed on impact into viscous miasma, and then lazily reformed.
Until, under only a few seconds of Kagami's furious assault, they didn't.
A great greasy sputter resounded through the street. The entire creature exploded into a cloud of stinking dark grey fog, coiling up around Kagami's legs as she swatted at them, looking more disgusted and confused than anything else.
Leg muscles flexed and rippled as Mitsubachi bounded up in a flying leap that should have allowed her to escape, but her expression fell as she did; no matter how desperately she struggled and thrashed, she couldn't extract herself from the gummy wisps of smoke.
Chat was in motion, pouncing down to the ground without even bothering to slow his descent with his baton, by Ladybug's side because she was right there with him.
He hit the ground in a roll, tucking up to spring forward into a run towards the girl, clearly intent on tackling her free from the cloud, while Ladybug planted her feet to flick out her mystical yo-yo.
Too late.
Before Ladybug could attempt to pull Mitsubachi out of the hazy fog, the Japanese heroine was gone.
Simply gone.
Disappeared.
Stumbling, Chat froze in place, sweeping his gaze between the cloud and Ladybug herself.
Clumsy hands fumbled with her yo-yo, fingers locked, feeling puffed up and bloated, joints stiff.
No tracking beacon appeared on her screen.
Simply gone.