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There were days when Marinette felt as if she no longer fit within her own skin. It wasn’t easy to pin it down to a single sensation. Sometimes it felt like she was watching herself in third person, watching Marienette do her sewing, or homework, or talking to Marinette’s friends. Other times it was this quasi hyper-awareness of her own body, which never seemed to be in quite the position she expected it to be. Once the world had stuttered and jumped around, not because she was losing track of time but because the next few moments would so obviously happen that she’d mentally skipped ahead and it came as a shock to find herself still confined to the present.
It wasn’t hard to narrow down the cause. The odd feeling always came after an Akuma fight, lingering for mere minutes after the easy ones, to almost thirty six hours after Heroes’ Day. Tikki explained it was just residual magic from the transformation. That many super-powered flips, that many Lucky Charms, that much Ladybug left marks on her soul that took time to recover from. It was a tidy explanation, but one that never quite captured the feeling of wrongness that clung to her after every transformation. It didn’t help in those disorientated moments where she was left wondering if she was Ladybug wearing Marinette like some kind of ghoulish costume.
She’d asked Tikki if there was a risk of busting; just being so much Ladybug that she exploded out of her own skin as some kind of monstrous insect hybrid that would then escape to terrorise Paris. Tikki had admitted that she’d never heard that one before, but also assured Marinette that it could never happen. It was just a touch too much magic and it would pass, just like it had every time before.
For all the disorientation it was rarely a huge inconvenience. Being too much Ladybug was strictly speaking a good thing--depending on how Marinette looked at it. Capturing even a fraction of Ladybug’s grace was a vast improvement over her usual klutzy self. And if she could cling on to Ladybug’s creativity then designs flowed from her pen as if divinely inspired.
Ladybug’s strength was more of a liability than a benefit. Marinette was a small teenaged girl who’s primary form of exercise was climbing the stairs to her loft. Her occasional moments of super strength were thus very obvious, at least to Marinette’s eyes. Forgetting how heavy mundane objects like bags of flour or bolts of fabric was nigh on impossible explain, but it was equally impossible to judge just what her limits should be when everything felt equally weightless. Experience had taught to fake it well enough, but when things caught her by surprise—say a sudden tug on her bag to get it out of reach of whatever nefarious scheme Lila had planned—the results could be unexpected.
At the very least Lila’s wrist was not actually broken. She was certainly carrying on as if it had been run through a sausage grinder, but it was at worse a strain. Marinette had developed an appreciation for injury and, for all Lila’s wrist getting caught in her bookbag’s strap would have certainly hurt, it was not a break. People had all sorts of reactions to injury but when things got that serious they went white and still, not red and wailing on about the injustice of the world.
“Marinette, I hope you understand the seriousness of this situation,” Principal Damocles said, fixing her with a steely look.
She did, of course, it was certainly the least serious serious situation she’d experienced all month. It would be impolitic to say that out loud so instead she tried to appear earnest and innocent. Of course, Lila had already got the principal wrapped around her finger so how much that would help was debatable. She’d stood on Principal Damocles’s side of the desk, clearly defining an Us versus Them before the conversation had even started.
“It was an accident, Principal Damocles,” Marinette insisted, not expecting it to be believed. What was years of perfect behaviour compared to one set of crocodile tears?
Principal Damocles sighed. “Once is an accident, Marinette, but this is becoming a pattern of behavior that I am both shocked and appalled at.”
“She deliberately broke my wrist!” Lila wailed, cradling the ever so slightly swollen joint. “She should be expelled.”
“Ah, well that is perhaps a little extreme—” Principal Damocles began, only to find himself facing a fresh round of sobs.
“All I wanted when I came to this country was to be welcomed! And this girl has done nothing but torment and attack me,” Lila continued, tears beading at the corner of her eyes. Marinette wondered idly if she’d be any good in the theater. “I should be calling the police!”
“No, no, there’s no call for that,” Principal Damocles said hastily, holding up his hands to placate her. “We can handle this for you. Marinette, it pains me to do this--”
If it hadn’t been for the Akuma attack the night before, if she’d been feeling more Marinette and less Ladybug, if the ich in the back of her mind had been just a little less strong, she might have let him finish. Instead Marinette sat up straighter in her seat. “You can’t expel me,” she informed him, simply.
Principal Damocles’ eyes narrowed. “Young lady, I am the Principal of this institution—”
“Which doesn’t give you the power of expulsion,” she continued, her voice cool and calm. “I looked it up after the incident with Alya, all expulsions have to be approved by the board of governors in full consultation with the student in question’s parents.”
There was a moment’s stunned silence as both Principal Damocles and Lila stared at her as if a mouse had roared at them.
“You can suspend a student for up to two weeks on your authority, but that also requires the consent of the student in question’s parents,” she continued, fighting back the urge to quail in her seat.
“See!” Lila declared, pointing at her with her supposedly injured hand. “She’s even planned out how to get away with it.”
Marinette fought down the urge to roll her eyes.
“It is a little suspicious,” Principal Damocles agreed, rubbing his chin. He was clearly off balance, however, and Marinette pounced on that.
“My parents live thirty meters down the street,” she pressed. “Mom could be here in five minutes. If you want to suspend me, call her first.”
Lila’s eyes narrowed, glowering at Marinette as Principal Damocles hemmed and hawed. “She’s just stalling,” she declared, interjecting a fresh round of piteous sniffling noises. “She’s so cruel.”
Marinette ignored her. The same sensation of potential she got when a Lucky Charm object dropped into her hands thrummed through her veins and she fought the urge to fidget. A decisive moment was coming and she wasn’t going to let Lila distract her.
At last Principal Damocles picked up the phone and after a few moments back and forth Mrs Dunpan-Cheng was on her way and he put down the phone.
“You should make sure her mother knows what’s really going on,” Lila interjected. “I’m sure Marinette has been feeding her all sorts of stories about me.”
And then it all came together. In Marinette’s minds eye Lila flashed red and black, followed by the phone and finally Principal Damocles’ Owl costume which hung on the coat stand.
“Lila’s mother should be here too, if we’re bringing parents into this,” Marinette suggested.
Lila froze. It was just a momentary hitch but it was clear that Marinette had hit a nerve. “There’s no need to bother her,” she said swiftly. “She’s a very important and very busy woman. She doesn’t get involved in schoolyard spats.”
“But Lila.” Marinette adopted a sympathetic smile that may have been just a touch too predatory. “You’ve broken your wrist. Surely she’d be worried about you?”
“She doesn’t like to be bothered at work. It’s why she doesn’t have her mobile on during the day,” Lila explained hurriedly. “I can tell her everything this evening. About how I was so cruelly assaulted by—”
“Lila,” Marinette cut her off with a quiet word, leaning forwards. “Is everything okay at home?”
Lila stared at her uncomprehending for a long moment. Then humor cracked through her facade as she concluded that Marinette genuinely thought Lila might be the victim in this situation. “Ha! Don’t try and pass your troubles off on me, Marinette,” she snapped, snorting.
Principal Damocles, as usual completely oblivious to the byplay, gave Lila a complex look before picking up his phone again. “I’ll call her now.”
“What?” Lila rounded on him and made a grab for the handset. “It’s fine. I told you she doesn’t answer her phone during the day. She doesn’t need to be here. Marinette is the one who broke my wrist.”
Principal Damocles dodged her clumsy grab, not noticing she was using her supposedly broken wrist. “I’d prefer it if she were here,” he informed her and began to dial.
Marinette was already on her phone, googling frantically.
After a dozen rings the call failed and Principal Damocles set down the phone with a frown.
Lila gave a relived sigh.“See, what did I just tell you? She’s far too busy too—“
“Here’s the number for the Italian embassy,” Marinette interjected , handing her mobile over.
“What!” Lila’s eyes widened in horror but she’d seen the trap far too late. Principal Damocles was not a particularly strong willed man, or if Marinette was being brutally honest a particularly smart man. Despite his flaws, he unequivocally saw himself as a hero and champion. If there was even a hint that Lila needed rescuing he would leave no stone unturned in his quest to help.
“Oh, thank you, Marinette. Now let’s see…” He punched in the number, spinning his chair to face away from the girls. “Ah, hello there I was looking for someone to direct me to Ambassador Rossi,” he began. “My name is Principal Damocles, I need to talk with her regarding her daughter for a few minutes. There’s been a minor incident at school.” He paused. “Thank you very much, my dear.”
He covered the receiver for a moment and announced with some triumph. “I caught her between meetings.”
Lila looked faintly ill, torn between saying something and bolting. Marinette discreetly checked the door and windows for purple butterflies.
“Hello, Ambassador Rossi? Good morning, this is Principal Damocles of Collège Françoise Dupont. It’s good to finally be able to speak to you. I’m afraid to report that your daughter has been caught up in a minor altercation at school with another student.”
He paused a moment, shooting the girls a look as they both leaned closer to try and overhear Mrs Rossi’s reply.
“No, it’s nothing too serious. A sprain by my reckoning, no worse.” Lila huffed indignantly. “I just thought given your daughter’s health issues that I’d—” His brow furrowed. “Umm, tinnitus, Tourettes, I believe she was injured when—” He cut out again. “Yes, she’s in the room.”
He set down the handset and a woman with a board italian accent began to scream over the speakerphone.
“Lila Rossi, what have you done!”
Lila leapt backwards like a scalded cat. “I’ve done nothing wrong!” she protested. “I’m the one with the broken wrist here!” She waved it around for emphasis, which had Marinette rolling her eyes. Lila could lie with the best of them but was awful at keeping her story straight.
“You told the school you had Tourettes!” Mrs Rossi roared.
“She called it Liers’ disease,” Marinette interjected, trying to sound helpful.
There was a moment’s pause. “That’s not even how Tourettes’ works!”
“Don’t listen to her, that girl’s been making my life a living hell!” Lila shot back.
“Living hell? Living hell! Lila you said you got on with all your school friends.”
“I didn’t want to worry you,” Lila protested, then began to quiver her lower lip. “I know you work so hard at your job that I just couldn’t burden you with—”
Principal Damocles cleared his throat pointedly. “Pardon my interruption but Ambassador, if Lila truly does not have any health conditions, did she really receive your permission to miss a full month of school due to her Asthma?”
“SHE WHAT!”
Any hope Lila had of salvaging the situation evaporated there and then, which did nothing to dissuade her. She was still screaming at the phone in rapid-fire Italian when Marinette’s mother knocked on the door and let herself into the office. Principal Damocles gestured for them to go, looking like he’d far rather join them than stay a minute longer.
“Whatever was that all about?” Mrs Cheng exclaimed, the moment the door shut.
“Oh, nothing. Lila’s luck finally ran out.”
“I don’t know why you’re so upset, Marinette, you won,” Tikki said.
The little Kwami was perched upon Marinette’s phone and working her way through a cookie larger than her own head. She let out a little giggle as the phone buzzed yet again, Alya had been texting non-stop for the better part of the evening. The rest of her class also chimed in, but predominantly it was Alya lighting up her phone.
Marinette had yet to check her messages.
For all Lila’s way with words, the moment she’d lost control of the narrative—in form of being dragged out of school by the ear while being screamed by her mother—her house of cards had come down within the period. There was some debate as to whether nothing she’d said was true or whether she’d just embellished, but no-one was going to see her as the school golden girl ever again. Everyone was some mixture of angry and upset, most of all Alya who’d run out of class half-way through, screaming about fixing the Ladyblog. All trace of Lila had been expunged from all of Alya’s online platforms by the time Marinette had made it home, all save a number of prominent retractions.
In a weird way, that was worse than if it had been a slow process. Alya’s ability to turn on a dime and believe her new narrative with the zeal of the converted had always been alarming. In the space of six hours Alya had gone from Lila’s bestie to throwing herself wholeheartedly into the Never Lila camp. It wasn’t a one off either. Alya could, and probably would, pivot again in the future and for all Marinette forgave her for falling into Lila’s web, things would never be as they were. She could be Alya’s friend, but she could never again treat Alya as the big-sister she’d never had.
She had no idea how to articulate that. She wasn’t even sure if Alya would even understood why she was so upset. Until she figured out the words, she let her phone buzz and fulfil its second life as a Kwami sized massage chair. She’d get to it in the morning. By then she’d have the strength to accept everyone’s apologies, hopefully.
“I’m not sad that she’s gone, Tikki,” Marinette began, drumming her fingers on her desk and staring in the vague direction of her computer. The background was of Jagged Stone wearing her glasses, Adrien had been temporarily banished. She had a sneaking suspicion he was going to tell her, ‘See, I told you it would all work out’ and when he did there was a very real chance she’d punch him in his perfect mouth. “I’m... worried about how I did it.”
Tikki frowned. “You used magic.” Marinette shot her a startled look. “I’m your Kwami, I could feel it.”
“I hoped I imagined it.” Marinette hung her head and let out a long sigh. “I... yeah, I used Lucky Charm to destroy her.”
Tikki waved her off. “Marinette, if you’d used Lucky Charm you’d know. That was all you.”
Marinette let out a long sigh. “It’s getting worse, you know? Ladybug lingers longer and longer.”
“You are Ladybug, Marinette,” Tikki assured her, placing a hand on her arm.
Marinette frowned. “You know what I mean. One of these days I’m going to say ‘Spots Off’ and nothing’s going to happen.”
“That can’t actually happen, you’ll be fine Marinette.”
“I’m using Ladybugs powers as me!” Marinette protested. “It’s a serious problems.”
Tikki smiled. “You’re using your powers as you. You’re becoming attuned, it happens after someone wields a Miraculous for a while. Admittedly you’re finding it earlier than most but then most Miraculous holders aren’t in daily battle with a supervillain. It’s normal.”
“Normal?” Marinette shot back, voice dripping with disbelief. “Superpowers are normal now?”
“Well, for you and Chat Noir at least.”
“I guess that goes without saying.” Marinette let out a deep sigh. “It’s just… I used magic to beat a school bully. It feels like that should be a bad thing.”
Tiki stared up at her. “Should?” she asked after a long moment.
“I don’t really care,” Marinette admitted, staring into the middle distance. “She’d won, she was being a bigger ‘B’ than Chloé and even had Adrien wrapped around her finger. Marinette couldn’t save herself so Ladybug had to, and I’m not upset or guilty that I had to call on her.”
“You are Ladybug,” Tiki reminded her, putting a tiny hand on Marinette’s ring-finger.
“Sometimes,” Marinette admitted. “And sometimes she’s Marinette. I guess I’m just worried for what this all means. I destroyed a girl’s life with six words. It was easy. Can I do the same to Alya so she never betrays me? Can I trick Adrien into loving me?”
“You would never do that,” Tiki assured her. “You have a good heart Marinette.”
Marinette wished she had as much faith in herself as the little Kwami did. “But I could,” she concluded with some finality.
Tiki ducked her eyes, which was just as clear an answer as actual words.
Marinette sighed. “And here I used to feel sorry that Chat Noir could only destroy things. All Miraculous are terrifying, aren’t they?”
Tiki wrung her hands a moment. “Yes… And there have been Ladybugs who did terrible things, not as many as the Black Cats but enough. Marinette, you’re nothing like them, you’re out there every day doing your very best to save everyone that you can. Don’t hate yourself for not being perfect.”
The pair sat in silence for a long while, Marinette lost in her thoughts and her Kwami watching anxiously. Marinette wished she could break the spell and calm her friend, but the whole problem felt far too large to fit into neat little words. Perhaps she could sketch it—later of course, her head was too much of a whirl to put pencil to paper and produce anything but a disaster.
The clatter of a can bouncing off the roof-terrace cut through the silence like a knife.
“Of course…” Marinette let out a heavy breath and with a resigned air said, “Tiki, Spots On.”
It was remarkably difficult to suppress the flash of light and dance when suiting up but could be done with enough effort. In a mere moment with only a tremble in the firmament of the world Ladybug was sat casually at the desk. She looked up as the hatch burst open, a blur of nothingness exploding through the space shattering Marinette’s bed and throwing shredded fabric in every direction.
In a single smooth motion Ladybug stood, grabbed the bag of flour from where she’d placed it in preparation earlier in evening, and hurled it at the blur. It had been a sucker’s bet that Lila would be Akumatised at some point after the debacle, and Marinette had prepared appropriately. The bag impacted with a meaty thud, a cloud of dust filling the air and settling on the outline of a girl in a fox themed costume gagging after swallowing mouthful of flour. A dozen illusions of Lila burst into being as the Akuma recovered with supernatural speed but they all lacked the critical white coating. Ladybug’s yo-yo lashed out, the body hooking around a familiar foxtail necklace and snatching it away from the monster before she could blink.
“Wait—“ Lila began, but Ladybug already had the necklace in hand and snapped it. The transformation boiled away as the ink black butterfly fluttered free of the pendent. Ladybug snatched it up in her yo-yo which flashed once before popping open to reveal the purified butterfly.
“Bye bye little butterfly,” Ladybug said, waving as it fluttered out through the broken hatch. “Miraculous Ladybug!”
A burst of red and black magic washed over the room, erasing the brief fight as if it had never been. All except for the furious girl crouched utop Marinette’s bed.
“Were you…” Lilia began, sputtering in fury and disbelief. “Were you staking out Dupain-Cheng?”
Ladybug flashed a casual smile. “She has an eye for brewing Akumas,” she explained, not technically lying. “And I had a free evening.”
“Gah!” Lila snarled in rage. “Why do you always ruin everything?”
Arching her eyebrow Ladybug put a hand on her hip. “Excuse me?”
“Do you have any idea what that girl did to me?” Lila demanded. “She ruined me! Don’t you care? Aren’t you supposed to be a hero?”
Ladybug idly observed that Lila really did have a gift for cutting people to the quick. It was rare that the Akuma victim was the one at fault. If she hadn’t known exactly how much rope Lila had spun to hang herself with she might have been moved to investigate. Instead she felt merely a frisson of guilt.
“This is the third time, Lila,” she said instead, sounding more tired than she really wanted to. “The third time in three months. Everyone has bad days, but if you’re having this many then maybe there’s something that needs to be fixed. Here—“ she pulled a business card out of her yo-yo. “—the city sponsors a therapist to Akuma victims. Anonymous and free of charge, you should talk to them.”
Lila huffed, literally turning her nose up at the offer. “I don’t want your help. I don’t need your help. I’m fine.”
The sad thing was, Ladybug honestly couldn’t tell if Lila was lying to her, lying to herself, or honestly believed that everything was working out. There was something tragic in that, but what Ladybug could do to help was beyond her.
“Fair enough. Door’s over there,” she said, pointing at the hatch. “Tell Mrs Cheng that you were stranded on the roof and she’ll let you out. They’re used to it.”
“Wait, you’re leaving?” Lila demanded, rising to her feet and smacking her head on the low ceiling.
Ladybug shrugged, walking over to the window. “You don’t want my help, remember?”
She pushed the window open and hurled herself out into the night. She took up a familiar time-wasting patrol around the block until she saw Lila flag down a cab and disappear in a huff. Pausing just long enough to ensure there were no curious eyes on her Ladybug swung back through the window landing in a low crouch.
“Spots off, Tiki.” With another sigh Marinette rolled her shoulders. The buzz of magic faded quickly, she’d barely been in the suit for five minutes after all.
“That might be a record, Marinette!” Tiki cheered, bobbing near her cheek.
“It helps she still hasn’t gotten rid of that fake necklace,” she said, forcing a grin. “If only Hawkmoth was so predictable.”
Marinette’s smile faded. There were a great many if only’s in her life. If only Adrien would see her as more than a friend. If only her classmates had a little backbone. If only Lila would actually help herself for once, rather than digging the hole deeper.
“I’m going to have to save her,” she said, more resigned than anything else. “Lila, I mean. That’s what Ladybug would do… and I’m Ladybug.”
Tiki beamed. “I’m proud of you Marinette. You’re the best Ladybug I’ve ever had.”
“Thanks, Tiki.” Marinette echoed her smile. “I try my best.”
The alternative was, after all, unthinkable.