Work Text:
Sabine started when she came into the apartment's kitchen, half-asleep, to find the lights on, and Marinette at the kitchen counter, meticulously cutting up a mango. She had that concentrated look on her face, with her tongue sticking out, as she carved. The peels of her other tries sat in the sink, with her mess-ups piling up in a large mixing bowl on the opposite side of the sink. On Marinette's left was a pile of mangoes and an empty medium-sized container.
Sabine checked the time again, just to make sure, before shaking off the rest of her sleepiness and saying, "Marinette?"
Marinette hit the ceiling, dropping the mango and the knife, which clattered on the kitchen counter.
"Oh, Mom!" Marinette exclaimed, chuckling and grinning nervously as she turned to face Sabine. "Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet."
"What are you doing up? It's so early. Is everything alright?" Sabine asked instead.
Marinette nodded vigorously, having way too much energy for two in the morning. "I'm fine!" She was, in fact, not. Marinette began babbling, "One of m-my friends, Luka-you remember him? Well he—well, her—I mean his sister, Juleka, you know her, she told me that Luka was kind of in a bad mood because he has artist's block. And whenever I have artist's block, you always cut up fruit for me, so I thought maybe I could do the same for Luka. As a surprise! Only, I wanted to do it myself, so I didn't tell you, but it's a lot harder than it looks. I think these mangoes aren't ripe enough or something—"
Sabine stepped forward and rested a gentle hand on Marinette's. "Here, let me show you." Marinette opened her mouth to object but Sabine continued quickly, "And then I will let you do the rest. I promise."
Marinette paused with a small frown but finally relented and nodded. "Okay, thanks, Mama."
Sabine smiled and stepped up next to her at the counter.
She had shown Marinette the ropes for other fruit, but hadn't done so yet with mangoes.
They stood together at the counter for an hour, Sabine giving Marinette a demonstration before walking her through every step. Then it was time to start preparing to open the bakery. Marinette stayed in the kitchen, carefully carving away; this time, with more success.
Finally, she had filled the container with perfectly, hand-cut cubes of peeled mango. No need for breakfast, at least, for she'd had her fill with all the discarded, imperfect slices.
She raced upstairs to change and freshen up before grabbing her container of mangoes from the kitchen, and crashed into the bakery.
"I'm off to give these to Luka," she said as she gave her mom a kiss on the cheek.
"Hurry back," Sabine said. "Your father wants some help with the mango macarons."
"Will do!" She gave one last smile and wave as she backed out the patisserie's front door.
Captain Anarka was already up and moving about her ship. No surprise there. She spotted Marinette through her handheld telescope. When Marinette was within shouting distance, she waved her arm.
"Mornin' Marinette!" she called. "What brings you to my humble abode this early?"
"Good morning, Captain! I come bearing gifts!" Marinette called. "Permission to come aboard?"
"Granted!" Captain Anarka began to make her way down to Marinette as Marinette walked across the plank, onto the ship.
"I wanted to give these to Luka," Marinette explained as Captain Anarka approached. She held out the container of cut mangoes. "Juleka told me he was having a rough time with artist's block. Something I can understand readily."
Captain Anarka took the container and peeked inside. "Mangoes?"
Marinette smiled and nodded.
Captain Anarka closed the lid and handed the container back to Marinette. "Come on down," she said as she turned and headed belowdecks. "I'll have to warn you, he likes to hole-up when he's in this mood. Even I can't get through to him most times."
Marinette took a tense, quiet breath in as she followed the Captain to Luka's quarters. "That's okay. Just as long as he knows it's there for him."
They stopped in front of Luka's closed door, Marinette standing back a few feet as the Captain knocked.
"Luka, Marinette is here for a visit," she called. When she was met with silence, she looked at Marinette and shrugged, shaking her head.
"Uh-um." Marinette stepped forward, closer to the door. "Luka?" she called. "Juleka told me you had artist's block. I thought I'd bring a little pick-me-up. It's always helped me feel a bit better."
Still no reply. Captain Anarka rested her hand on Marinette's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"I'll leave it out here, then, okay?" Marinette said, then whispered to Captain Anarka, "Is right here okay?"
Captain Anarka smiled and nodded. "It's just out here," she called to Luka, "on Juleka's desk, dear."
Marinette nodded and gave the Captain a small smile of thanks before setting it on the desk. They both headed abovedeck.
"Sorry about that, dear," Captain Anarka said as Marinette headed for the plank.
"That's alright, I understand," Marinette assured. "Thanks for letting me stop by. I've got to get back to the bakery now."
"Feel free to drop by anytime, Marinette!" Captain Anarka called as Marinette headed back the way she'd come, but not before turning and waving her goodbye.
That night, as Marinette was sketching up an idea for a dress in her notebook, her phone buzzed.
It was a text from Luka: thanks for the fruit 🥭🥭🥭
Marinette felt her heart swell with warmth. Grinning, she responded, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, about the significance of cut fruit in Asian culture. It was a part of her culture she rarely got to share with others, so she often jumped at the chance to do so.
Luka didn't respond, which took some of the wind out of her sails. So to speak. So she dove back into her design to distract herself and keep her anxiety from spiraling too badly.
A few hours later, Marinette crawled into bed, feeling a little disheartened that she still hadn't heard from Luka. Slowly, she burrowed into the comfort of her sheets and flipped off the lights in her loft. She'd just closed her eyes when her phone buzzed. Her eyes snapped open and she snatched her phone up. It was a message from Luka: a video file.
With shaky hands, she opened it up and played it—a short video of Luka playing his guitar. Somehow, he had managed to capture the feeling she got when she was having a bad day and her mom prepared her favorite fruits, peeled, cut up, and perfect.
Marinette sat up, turning her lights back on, and sat back against her cat pillow, reading the text that followed: not finished yet. wanted you to hear first. thank you for taking the time to prepare the fruit and explain the significance to me. it means a lot
Trying to bite back the grin that threatened to split her face, she quickly typed back: can we facetime?
of course :)