Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

(Y/N) had already experienced the plane ride between the United States and France, but she had only been a year old, so she had no recollection of it. If she had, she would have refused to set foot on a plane ever again. The air on the plane was stale and stifling, the temperature much too cold. She had been given a middle seat for the painstakingly long ride between a snoring elderly man and his wife. While the husband was asleep, the wife talked to (Y/N) about her entire lifetime. When her husband was awake, the two bickered incessantly and exchanged snide remarks at the other’s expense. (Y/N) wasn’t so sure the ‘romantic Parisian getaway’ they had planned would repair their relationship.

(Y/N) was grateful when the plane finally landed and her feet were back on solid ground. She sped to baggage claim to retrieve her suitcase. Her entire life was now packed away in two carry-ons and a checked piece of luggage. The rest was either donated or sitting in a small storage room she had rented with her savings from her summer jobs.

It was a bit of a struggle to pull her luggage outside and (Y/N) was incredibly disappointed to find that it was pouring rain. Her weather app had told her that the rain was supposed to end by the time she arrived, so she had packed her jacket away. Now, she was in a sweatshirt and jeans that became increasingly more soaked the longer she stood in the rain. She lifted her arm to hail a taxi.

The taxi driver pulled up to the curb, nearly splashing street water onto (Y/N’s) shoes. She smiled at him as he got out to help her put her things into the taxi. She muttered a quick hello in French, but she wasn’t sure if he had heard her. She spoke French, but there was something oddly intimidating about speaking to people that spoke French.

They entered the taxi and (Y/N) showed him what address she needed to go to. With a nod and hefty grunt, the taxi driver pulled back into the street. The only noise in the car was the sound of rain pattering against the windows and a French news station playing on the radio. (Y/N) thought that she should say something, create some kind of small talk with the driver, but every time she tried to speak, the words died in her mouth.

She clenched her fists against her wet jeans. She felt anxious; sweat prickled at her armpits despite the cold weather. She tried to look at the scenery as they drove through the streets of Paris, but it proved to be rather difficult with the storm overhead. She checked her phone and texted her friends to let them know that she had gotten to Paris safely. (Y/N) doubted any of them would answer due to the time difference. They should all be sleeping now.
As if disproving her, her phone buzzed. A single text:

Ben: Glad to hear it :)
Ben: Stayed up to make sure you got there okay

(Y/N) locked her phone immediately, not even opening their text thread. She didn’t want to think about the complications she left behind in the United States. Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes, but she wouldn’t let herself fall asleep. The last thing she needed right now was to expose herself to potential murder, kidnapping, or the myriad of other possibilities that could happen to a teenage girl alone in a taxi.

The taxi driver pulled to a stop and (Y/N’s) eyes popped back open. She thanked him, placing the proper amount of euros in his hand before setting all of her things on the sidewalk. It was difficult to get through the door of the apartment building, but as soon as she did, a doorman was at her side to assist her.

“Oh, that’s okay—” She began to say, but then she quickly switched to French. “I can handle it, my aunt lives here. She left me a key at the front desk.”

“Go to the front desk and get the key. I’ll help you carry your stuff.” He spoke in English, which frustrated (Y/N). She was perfectly capable of speaking—and understanding—French. She might be rusty, but she didn’t want everyone to have to accommodate her.

“It’s really alright,” (Y/N) insisted, and the doorman rolled his eyes before dropping her luggage. (Y/N) scrambled to catch it before it fell over and made her way to the front desk, where she gave a tired smile to the receptionist. “Hi! My aunt left a key for me. My name is (Y/N) (L/N)?”

As the receptionist searched for her key, (Y/N) worried whether she had offended the doorman. She had tried her best to read up on the French customs before she arrived, but she must have skimmed over the part that said what to do when a doorman offers to take your luggage. She also wondered if it was just an inherently American thing to be worried about people stealing your belongings. She tried to see the best in others, but what if the doorman was actually someone pretending to be a doorman? What if he had run off with her luggage when she wasn’t looking?

(Y/N) pursed her lips. Maybe she was being a little paranoid. If anyone were to steal her luggage, all they would find was a bunch of clothes that fit a teenage girl, and maybe one or two stuffed animals.

The receptionist slid the keycard across the desk and (Y/N) thanked him before making her way over to one of the private elevators. Her aunt’s instructions about how to get into her apartment were incredibly thorough and (Y/N) had spent most of the flight looking over them, when she wasn’t having her ear talked off by the old woman.

The private elevator had a security measure where you insert the keycard in order to get the doors to open. It made (Y/N) feel a little bit safer. The elevator was large and eloquently decorated. Its walls were a wood so polished that she could see her own reflection. She tried not to look at it too much. She looked terrible: her hair was sopping wet from the rain and her face just looked tired and unwell. She felt like it, too. The thought of having a hot shower and a bed only a few floors away filled her heart with joy.

(Y/N) input the floor number and the keycode associated with it and started the ascent to her new home.

The doors opened into a grand foyer. “Hello?” (Y/N) called out into the space but received no answer. She pulled her things out of the elevator and the golden doors shut behind her. She let her luggage fall to the ground as she took in her surroundings.

The floors were a white marble, glittering with golden specks that (Y/N) hoped weren’t real gold. A grand piano sat directly across from the elevator and beneath a crystalline chandelier, which cast glitters of light throughout the room. The walls behind the piano were made completely of glass, so (Y/N) caught glimpses of the city as she made her way through the apartment. Condo? Luxury palace? She wasn’t sure what to call…this. All her life she had lived in a two bedroom, one bath in the suburbs.

To the right of the elevator and through an arched doorway was the kitchen and a breakfast table. The kitchen looked like something out of an Ikea magazine, with sleek metal appliances and cream granite countertops that matched perfectly with the marble floors and dark brown cabinets. Beyond that was an elegantly decorated dining room. (Y/N) was wary about exploring the place, considering that she was still dripping from the rain, but her aunt had assured her before she came that she was welcome to make herself at home.

A lump caught in her throat. This was home now.

To the left of the elevator was a living room with the biggest television (Y/N) had ever seen. As she walked, she noticed a staircase behind the couch that led upwards. She wondered how on earth this place could get bigger.

She walked through the grand living room and into a hallway. Her aunt had told her this would be where her room was located. There was only one door at the end of the hallway and for some reason, (Y/N) felt the need to hold her breath as she opened it.

It was the largest bedroom she had ever seen. A canopy bed sat in the center, much larger than the twin bed she had grown up sleeping in. A small sitting area was placed across from it, complete with a tea set on the glass coffee table. Elegant paintings decorated the walls, looking far too valuable to be placed in a teenage girl’s bedroom. To the left of her bed was an iron spiral staircase and beyond that was her bathroom, complete with a rain shower, jacuzzi bath, and large vanity.

As soon as she set foot into the bathroom, (Y/N) started her shower, anxious to get the grime and rain off of her skin. The water pressure was phenomenal and the shower was big enough to house at least six people. (Y/N) was grateful to find that her aunt had already picked up her favorite bath products. Lulled into relaxation with some of her favorite scents, (Y/N) stepped out of the shower and pulled on a fluffy white robe.

She traveled up the staircase to the second level of her room. It was a walkway that led to bookcases that surrounded each of the walls except for the far one, which was also made of glass. (Y/N) moved back downstairs to see the view from her room. A sliding glass door was built into the glass wall, leading out onto a wide balcony. (Y/N) pressed her face against the cool glass, excited to venture out and soak up the sun on a nicer day.

Her shoulders slumped. She felt guilty for being so excited. Grief made you feel like you didn't have the right to feel any happiness. At least, that's what her therapist back home had told her. She went back to the foyer and carried her bags back into her room. She changed into a pair of comfortable clothes before settling into her new bed. It felt like laying on a cloud, the sheets the softest fabric she had ever touched. She fell asleep only minutes after her head hit the pillow.

When (Y/N’s) eyes opened again, her room was completely dark. She scrambled for her phone, which was lost in the tangle of sheets, and turned on her flashlight to find the switch for her bedside lamp. Once she could see, she checked the time. It was nearly six in the evening. She had slept a full eight hours.

She rubbed at her eyes and moved her stiff body out of bed. Sleeping in a different bed for the first time always made her back feel incredibly taut. She stretched her muscles and they practically screamed at her to stop. Her stomach grumbled angrily. In her exhaustion, she had forgotten to eat.

(Y/N) left her room and ventured back toward the kitchen, where she could hear voices speaking rapidly in French. When she entered, the conversation immediately stopped, and the faces of her aunt, Marguerite, and her cousin, Albert, stared at her.

“(Y/N)!” Marguerite exclaimed, a wide smile gracing her features. Marguerite was forty, but (Y/N) had always thought she had never looked a day over twenty. She had gorgeous light brown hair that was tied into a perfect bun, with face framing pieces that fell near the corners of her dark eyes. The only hint of aging on her face were the crinkles at the corners of her eyes from decades of smiling. “I’m glad you’re finally awake. I was waiting to receive a message from you that you had gotten here safely, but the receptionist told me you had taken the key.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” (Y/N) apologized, her face heating up. “I was so tired from the flight that all I wanted was a shower and a nap.”

“You got a little longer than a nap,” Albert chuckled. He was two years older than (Y/N), and certainly taller. They had never met in person before, only video calls over the occasional holiday. They had started to talk much more frequently in the recent weeks, due to (Y/N) moving into his house. “The jet lag will kill you if you aren’t careful.”
Marguerite rolled her eyes. “He exaggerates, of course, but it is important to get on a better schedule as quickly as you can.” (Y/N’s) stomach rumbled and her aunt gasped. “Oh, you must be starving. I can make something—”

“I’ll make it,” Albert said with a grunt, lifting himself from his seat at the island. “Mother’s a terrible cook.”

“Not terrible!” Marguerite insisted. “Just not well practiced.”

“I can make something!” (Y/N) protested, but Albert shook his head and patted her on the shoulder.

“It’s your first night here. You shouldn’t have to worry about anything.” (Y/N) smiled.

“Um, thank you both, for letting me come here. I know it was kind of forced on you, considering the circumstances, but I’m still really grateful.”

Marguerite and Albert exchanged a pitied glance. They might have thought that (Y/N) wouldn’t notice it, but she did, and it stiffened her spine. She didn’t want pity, least of all from her family.

“We’re happy to have you here, dear,” Marguerite said, wrapping her niece into her arms. (Y/N) wasn’t a fan of hugs, but she humored her aunt. Marguerite pulled away and smiled down at her. “You look just like him, you know?”

(Y/N) felt tears at the backs of her eyes. She smiled to squint them and nodded. “Yeah, people told us that all the time.”

Chapter Text

There was a sort of peace directly after an akuma attack. Once her ladybugs had repaired the city, once the victim was safe and sound. It lasted only for a moment, but in that time, Marinette could manage a few breaths of relief.

The latest akuma attack had happened throughout the night, while the city slept. Marinette wondered if she ever disturbed anyone as she ran across their rooftops. She supposed that was the price to pay for living with superheroes. It hadn’t been a long fight; the latest attacks never were. But for the past two months the timeline of the attacks had quickened, resulting in akumatizations at least three times a week.

Marinette let out a sigh as her feet dangled from the edge of an apartment building. There were only a few minutes before she had to transform back, but she wanted to revel in this silence before getting back to regular life. Chat Noir took his place beside her, offering a coin.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He questioned, his voice soft. Marinette smiled. There were moments, like these, when Chat Noir knew when to be serious.

She took the coin and closed her fist around it. “I like the city when it’s like this.”

“Asleep?”

“Quiet,” Marinette explained. “It’s like a breath of fresh air.” The wind settled through the night, sending a shiver up her spine.

Chat Noir hummed, his tail swishing behind him. “I suppose it is nice. Hard to really pay attention to it when you’re living it.”

Marinette nodded. “Do you ever feel like life’s moving too fast? Like you’re so busy that you’re missing everything?”

Chat Noir shrugged. “Purrsonally, I think life moves too slow. I’d like to skip ahead to the part where you and I are already together.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “In your dreams, kitty.”

“Every night, Bugaboo,” Chat Noir smirked. She groaned just as her earrings started beeping.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful to transform back.” She stood and stretched her back. “I gotta get going, kittycat.”

“You could always stay and we could transform back together,” Chat Noir leaned closer to her and batted his eyelashes, a sickeningly sweet smile on his face.

Marinette sighed, pushing him away. “You know we can’t—”

“Know each other’s identities, I know.” Chat Noir returned to his position on the edge of the rooftop. “I was hoping after over a year working together, you’d have changed your mind about that.”

“It’s not about changing my mind,” Marinette’s earrings beeped once more. She hated doing this to him. If there were a way that she could share her identity without endangering them both, she would have done it months ago. “It’s better this way, I promise.”

Chat Noir sighed. “See you next time, Bugaboo.”

Normally, Marinette would chide him about the nickname, but the saddened look on his face tugged at her heartstrings. She felt bad, always having to turn him down. He was her friend, and she hated seeing her friends upset.

“Night, kitty cat,” She said quietly before she threw her yo-yo into the night. She rappelled herself back toward home, landing on her patio with a soft thud before climbing down into her room.

“Tikki, spots off,” She said as she yawned. Tikki fell into her palm, leaving Marinette in the pajamas she had been wearing before she needed to become Ladybug. Marinette walked over to her desk, where a box of macarons sat waiting for the little kwami. Marinette fed Tikki her favorite: strawberry.

“We need to figure out how Hawk Moth’s power has increased,” Marinette said as she set Tikki on her desk. “He shouldn’t be able to generate so many akumas so quickly.”

“We will,” Tikki assured her. Marinette pursed her lips. It had been over a year since she started fighting Hawk Moth, and she was in the same place she was on the first day. She spent many nights lying awake, running faces and names throughout her mind, wondering where he had developed these new powers.

She glanced at her clock. She would only be able to get a few hours of sleep before school in the morning. She took out her pigtails and crawled into bed, her eyes drifting shut as soon as her head hit the pillow.

When Marinette awoke, it felt like her eyes were fighting to stay closed. Once she could finally open them, they widened as she realized just what time it was. She was nearly fifteen minutes off track for her morning, which, for someone who was always late, meant that she was even later than usual. Marinette flung herself out of bed and began flying all around her room, trying to get herself ready. Tikki yawned as she floated down to Marinette.

“I don’t understand what happened!” Marinette exclaimed as she pulled on her pants. “I thought I had set an alarm!”

“You did,” The kwami of protection, known as Wayzz, flew up to her. He looked incredibly worried. “You slept through it.”

After Master Fu passed on the Guardianship of the Miraculous to her, Marinette had been trying to get to know each kwami individually by letting them out of the Miraculous box. The past few days had been Wayzz’s turn.

“Wayzz, why didn’t you wake me up?” Marinette exclaimed, her tone more anxious than angry. Marinette was not known for a perfect attendance record, but she hated the idea of disappointing Madame Bustier. 

“I tried, actually,” Wayzz insisted. Tikki hummed in concern.

“Maybe you should stay home today Marinette,” Tikki suggested. “You could use the day to rest!”

“An excellent idea,” Wayzz nodded. “Even those who hold the Miraculous—”

“I can’t stay home today,” Marinette said as she struggled to pull on her shoes. “What if Paris needs me? Plus I have a quiz in—” She gasped, nearly losing her balance. “I was supposed to study for my quiz before bed last night!”

“An even better reason to stay home,” Wayzz said with a nod. Marinette shook her head.

“No, I—I’ll be alright. I just need to get through today and then I’ll be alright.” She tossed her backpack over her shoulder. “We’d better get going, Tikki. I’m going to have to run if I want to make it to school on time.”

The red kwami flew into Marinette’s purse and Marinette flew down the stairs, grabbing an apple as she raced by her parents. She opened her mouth to say goodbye, but all that came out was a grunt as she collided with her dad’s chest. She rubbed her nose as she stared up at her father. “Marinette, your mother and I were talking and we think it’d be best if you took a day off.”

“You’ve seemed so stressed recently,” Her mother said from the kitchen. Marinette looked between both of her parents.

“I’m fine, really!” She assured them, her smile tight. “Being a high school student is just a little stressful. We’re close to the end of the school year, I’ve got lots of tests coming up! I can’t miss class!” Marinette winced as she thought of how behind she would be if she missed a day of classes.

Her mother, Sabine, walked over to her and caressed her cheek. “We’re worried about you, sweetie. It’s okay to take a break every now and then.”

Despite herself, Marinette felt tears prickling at the backs of her eyes. She smiled, nodding her head. “Okay, Mom. I’ll go back upstairs and get some rest.”

“We’ll call the school to let them know you won’t be coming today,” Her father, Tom, said as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I have a quiz today,” She told her dad. “Could you ask Madame Bustier if I can make it up some other time?” Her father nodded, then steered Marinette back toward the stairs that led up to her room. With a sigh, she walked back up the stairs, shutting the door in the floor behind her.

Tikki flew out of her bag and was quickly joined by Wayzz. “I may have been with Master Fu for a few hundred years, but I don’t think school days are that quick,” Wayzz chuckled at his joke.

Marinette took off her shoes and crawled back into bed. “My parents are making me stay home.”

“That’s wonderful!” Wayzz exclaimed.

“Maybe I should patrol the city,” Marinette said, sitting up in her bed. “Just to make sure everything’s okay.”

Tikki flew in front of Marinette’s face, her own looking very stern. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, as your kwami, I order you to get some rest.”

Marinette blinked in surprise. “Alright, fine! But you'll let me know if there's anything wrong, right Tikki?” Her kwami nodded, a stern expression on her sweet face. With a huff, Marinette pulled her blanket up to her chin and closed her eyes. She hadn’t expected to be able to fall asleep again, but in seconds she was snoring.

Marinette awoke to her stomach grumbling, indicating that it was close to lunch time. With a sleepy groan, she forced herself to get out of bed and wobble down the steps. Her mother had already made her a sandwich, along with some fresh macarons from the bakery downstairs. Marinette smiled sleepily, kissing her mother on the cheek.

“Thanks, Mom!” Marinette said, taking her plate from the counter. She rounded the kitchen and nearly dropped her plate when the kitchen table came into view. Luka sat with a full plate of lunch in front of him.

“I stopped by to make sure you were okay,” Luka’s soft voice said. “Your mom insisted that I stay for lunch.”

Marinette thought to her phone, which probably had messages from her friends asking where she was. She hadn’t thought to text them before falling asleep. She smiled at Luka apologetically as she took her seat across from him.

“Sorry, my parents made me stay home today. I haven’t been getting enough sleep.”

“I get it,” Luka said with a smile. He always did. “I just hadn’t heard from you like I normally do.” He reached out to hold his hand in hers. Marinette resisted the urge to pull it away.

She and Luka had been dating (Seeing each other? Going steady? She wasn’t sure what to call what they were, exactly) for a little over a month now. They had been on a few dates, mostly with friends, and he had met her parents just the other week. Things were going well, Marinette supposed. It was nice, having someone to talk to other than Alya. Luka was very levelheaded and reassuring. He was good, he was what Marinette needed.

These are the things she told herself, once she started doubting.

They ate lunch in silence. Marinette was far too hungry to focus on anything other than eating. Her leg bounced as they sat. Despite her restful nap, Marinette was still a ball of nerves. Having Luka in her home threw off her expectations, which in turn threw off her mood. Her mother played the news on the TV just as background noise, but she kept glancing over at it every few minutes to make sure that nothing was going wrong.

“I was thinking,” Luka said once he had finished his meal. “It might be fun for you to come over to my place for dinner this weekend. Just you, me, Juleka, and mom.” Luka smiled softly. “Of course, if you’re not ready to, that’s totally fine—”

“No, no,” Marinette said, shaking her head. “That sounds like a lot of fun. I just have to clear it with my parents before I can go.”

“It’s alright with me!” Her mother called out from the kitchen. Marinette’s face burned red.

“I guess I’m good to go,” She said with a tight smile.

Marinette didn’t understand why things were like this. Why couldn’t she just let herself go when it came to Luka? What was holding her back?

It was like a mini Tikki popped into her head. Adrien. Marinette resisted the urge to audibly scoff. She was over Adrien. He was with Kagami and she accepted that.

She led Luka to the front door. He leaned down and kissed her cheek goodbye. Marinette couldn’t bring herself to do the same. She wrapped her arms around his middle and squeaked a quick, “See you later!” Before she shut the door and darted back upstairs.

“Why am I so weird, Tikki?” She groaned into her hands as she pressed them against her face. “Here I am, with a boy that actually likes me, and I…” She sighed, sitting in her desk chair and letting it spin. Tikki flew over to her and landed on her computer monitor.

“Maybe your heart just isn’t ready to let anyone else in yet,” Tikki suggested. “After all, you did like Adrien for so long. It’s going to take you a lot longer than a month to get over him.”

“I am over him,” Marinette insisted, but her voice lacked conviction. “At least, I want to be.” With a sigh, she scooted over to the far end of her desk, where her phone sat. She scrolled and skimmed over the messages. There were about a dozen from Alya that she would get to eventually, but what caught Marinette’s eye was the text from Adrien.

ADRIEN: Hey, Marinette! I hope you’re doing alright!

She tried to still her rapidly beating heart. Her fingers shook as she sent him a text back.

MARINETTE: Hi!! I’m doing alright, just needed a little day off!!

His response came back instantly.

ADRIEN: Happy to hear it!

Marinette fought off the urge to text him back, to start a conversation. What would there be to talk about? Nothing. She would just be scrambling for words just like she always was around him. With a sigh, she switched over to Alya’s messages. They recounted a cancellation of the quiz, along with the arrival of a new student. Her name was (Y/N), she was from the United States, and she seemed better than Lila, but Alya would provide her with anymore updates.

Marinette grinned. She loved meeting new people and loved when new students joined their class. Lila was the last new student they had and Marinette absolutely loathed her. She was excited to get back to class so she could meet this girl.

Marinette looked at the time. It should be Alya’s lunch hour, so she dialed her number for a facetime, which was answered almost immediately. “Marinette! Where are you, girl?” Her eyes moved incredibly close to the camera, causing Marinette to break into a fit of giggles.

“My parents made me stay home and get some rest. Apparently, they think I need to take a break.”

“I think they’re absolutely right, even though I’ve missed you today!” Alya leaned closer to the camera once more. “I’m sitting with the new girl right now!”

“How is she? Tell her I said hi!”

Alya flipped the camera so it was facing (Y/N), who was setting up her packed lunch on the steps of their school. She appeared to be Marinette's age and wore an emerald green shirt with a light wash denim jacket over it. Her jeans were black and her sneakers were plain and white, although the white had faded into more of a grey color, likely from use. (Y/N) finally looked up, curious as to what Alya was doing. “My friend Marinette called me! She says hi.” Alya flipped the camera around and wrapped her arm around (Y/N’s) shoulders, pulling her into view. “I hope you don’t mind, but I let her have your seat today.”

“Hi, Marinette,” (Y/N) said, a bit awkwardly. It was obvious she wasn’t comfortable being put on the spot like this, but that was something to get used to when being friends with Alya Cesaire. “I’m excited to meet you, Alya’s told me a lot of great things about you.”

“I’m excited to meet you too! I hope your first day is going well.” Alya turned the camera back toward herself and gave Marinette an exasperated look.

“She already had her first run in with Chloe.”

“It wasn’t necessarily a run in,” (Y/N) sighed from off camera.

“Really? What happened?”

“She made fun of (Y/N’s) accent. She grew up speaking both French and English, so sometimes her French words come out a little weird.” Alya glanced at (Y/N). “No offense, of course! You’re still really great at it!”

Marinette heard (Y/N) laugh. “Gee, thanks.”

“Anyway, there's no need to worry. (Y/N) put her in her place.” Marinette gasped, a wide smile making its way onto her features.

“Good for you! You'll have to tell me all of the details tomorrow!”

“I really wasn’t planning on making enemies on the first day,” (Y/N) mumbled.

“Chloe’s pretty much everyone’s enemy,” Marinette reassured her. “I think the nicest bone in her body is her pinkie toe.” The three girls laughed. “Alright, I’ll let you guys get back to your lunch. It was really nice talking to you, (Y/N)! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Alya and (Y/N) said their goodbyes before Marinette ended the phone call. She turned to Tikki, who had been hovering over her shoulder. Luckily, kwamis couldn’t be caught on camera. “She seemed really nice!” Tikki said cheerfully.

“I think so, too,” Marinette agreed. The last nice new student that they had gotten was Adrien. She hoped that (Y/N) would turn out more like him, and less like Lila. 

Chapter Text

Adrien remained on the rooftops, watching as Ladybug drifted further from his view. He had more time to be in his suit since his Cataclysm hadn’t been necessary for their fight tonight. The idea of going home was out of the question. Being alone in the streets of Paris was much more enjoyable than being alone in the cold expanse that was his father’s house. While it was his house, it never quite felt like home.

There was a time when his father hadn’t been so absent. Gabriel Agreste used to be involved in Adrien’s life. As much as any world famous fashion designer could be, of course. When he was home, he used to read bedtime stories before Adrien went to bed. He would check the closet and beneath the bed for monsters.

Of course, this was all before. Before the passing of his mother, before Adrien went to school, before their relationship had receded into nothingness.

That was the enjoyable part of being Chat Noir. He didn’t have to think about these things when he was saving Paris. The only thoughts on his mind were defeating their latest villain. And Ladybug, obviously. But he thought about her even when he wasn’t saving the city. She was a constant in his mind and heart, occupying the most space in both.

As much as Adrien joked with her about revealing their identities to each other, it was something he really wanted. He leaned back on the concrete of the building roof to look up at the stars. He understood that it was dangerous, but Adrien was willing to risk that danger. He would put his entire life on the line if it meant being with her, he was sure of it. And as much as he hated to use his position in life, he would do everything he could to keep her safe. He should just tell her who he was already. There had been so many times when he had come so close, only to have the words die in his throat.

There was that small inkling of fear that settled in the back of his mind. Would her feelings about him even change if he revealed that he was Adrien Agreste? And if they did, would it be for the right reasons?

Adrien sighed and hopped to his feet, breaking into a run. He hopped from rooftop to rooftop, scaling the side of buildings and bouncing from their ledges. Being Chat Noir was a rush of adrenaline, of excitement and freedom. Being Chat Noir was everything that Adrien didn’t have in his real life.

He swung through his window, which he had left open for his return. “Plagg, claws in,” He said quietly. Adrien transformed back into his regular attire, a pair of plaid pajama pants and a white t-shirt. He had been getting ready for bed when he saw the akumatized villain walk right past his window.

The tiny kwami reappeared and flew straight to the mini fridge in Adrien’s room. He remained there for a few minutes before emerging with a burp. “Nothing’s better than camembert before bed,” Plagg sighed, humming from happiness. Adrien grunted as he brushed his teeth. “Some villain tonight, huh? What do you think Hawk Moth’s got planned?”

“I don’t know, Plagg,” Adrien sighed. He was in a sour mood. That happened sometimes when Ladybug shot him down. He respected her feelings, but he also knew that they were meant to be together. It was something that he could feel in his bones. It was a fact, like how the sky was blue and water was composed of two hydrogen and one oxygen.

“What’s got your undies in a twist?” Plagg drawled, landing on Adrien’s pillow. “Is it Ladybug again?”

Adrien inhaled a deep breath. Plagg meant well, even if his delivery was less than comforting. His phone buzzed in his pocket and Adrien glanced down to check it. A text message, from Kagami.

KAGAMI: Goodnight, Adrien Agreste.

She was getting the hang of using emojis, so she had sent him one with a winky face and its tongue sticking out. It made Adrien smile, despite his sour mood. Kagami was…a complication, but in a good way. She understood what it was like to live the life he did. Strict parents, limited freedom, and high expectations. She may be blunt, but she was kind.

Adrien felt guilty, then. Kagami voiced how she felt about everything, including him. He was the one she was waiting on and he knew that she wouldn’t wait forever. What if he was preventing himself from enjoying life because of his feelings for Ladybug?

He didn’t know if Kagami could be his forever, but perhaps she was his right now. He sent her back a goodnight message, adding a heart emoji. It was a start.

“Ladybug and I are just friends,” Adrien said as he placed his phone on his bedside table. Plagg rolled his eyes. He had told him this many times, but this time, Adrien would mean it. He and Ladybug were friends.

Adrien flopped into his large bed, spreading out like a starfish. He hoped this new lease on life would give him an easy sleep, but instead he spent hours awake as thoughts rattled in his brain. How did one let go of a crush? How did he know he actually had feelings for Kagami, and didn’t just feel like he should have feelings for her?

His alarm went off at his bedside and Adrien pressed a pillow to his face, screaming lowly into it. He pressed the button of the intercom at his bedside. “Good morning, Nathalie,” He said into it. He waited for her response.

“Good morning, Adrien,” Nathalie’s cool voice replied.

“Could you ask the chef if I could please have coffee with my breakfast this morning?”

“Too much coffee will give you anxiety.”

“Just this morning, Nathalie, I promise.” There was silence on the other end. In Adrien’s experience, silence was better than an outright no, so he swung his legs out of bed and got ready for his day.

Plagg remained passed out on his couch well into the morning until Adrien tapped his small head. “Wake up, we’ve gotta get downstairs.”

Plagg opened his sleepy eyes. “You look horrible! Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Plagg!” Adrien complained, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The kwami’s honesty was amusing, sometimes. “Thanks for the concern. Now get in my bag.”

With a yawn, Plagg flew into Adrien’s bag and Adrien bounded down the steps.

Breakfast passed by quickly, as it typically did when one ate alone. Nathalie passed him a to-go mug full of coffee, for which Adrien smiled gratefully up at her. “Will you tell Father I said goodbye?” He asked as he and Gorilla walked to the door. Nathalie nodded silently, and they left.

At home, Adrien was surrounded by so much quiet. He was grateful for the escape that school provided. The kids were loud and always entertaining. He was sure some people got sick of school, but after studying at home for the majority of his life, Adrien never got tired of it.

His coffee was nearly finished by the time they pulled up to Francoise Dupont High School. Adrien left the mug in the cupholder. “I’ll see you after fencing practice,” Adrien told the Gorilla as he stepped out of his car. His bodyguard gave him the typical grunt of response before driving off. Slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder, Adrien walked toward the steps. Traffic had been rough today, so he only had a few minutes to make it to his classroom.

He took his seat beside Nino, who was turned around to talk to his girlfriend, Alya. Adrien noticed the empty seat beside Alya and furrowed his brows. “Where’s Marinette?”

Alya shrugged. “I texted her a few times, but I haven’t heard back.” Adrien pursed his lips in concern. He pulled out his phone and sent Marinette a text.

ADRIEN: Hey, Marinette! I hope you’re doing alright!

He tried to think of more to say, but he sent his message before he doubted himself. Nino nudged his shoulder to get his attention once more. “Alya heard Principal Damocles talking with Madame Bustier about a new student joining.”

“Not just any student,” Alya interjected, her eyes wide with excitement. “The niece of Marguerite Estrelle!”

Because of his father, Adrien knew a lot of famous people in Paris. Still, sometimes he had to wrack his brain to keep track of who was who. He thought to the library in his own home, where there were countless books with the last name Estrelle. “The writer?” Alya nodded eagerly. “Doesn’t her son go to a private school in the country? Why would her niece go here?”

“I focus on superheroes, celebrities are your expertise,” Alya joked.

“I’m just hoping she’s more like you and less like…” Nino glanced over Adrien’s shoulder. Chloe Bourgeois sat at her seat, her eyes closed as Sabrina readjusted her makeup.

“She’s not all bad,” Adrien said. Chloe might be rude and the cause for why most in their class had gotten akumatized, but she was his first friend ever. She could be a pain, but with parents like hers, he didn’t always blame her.

“I hope she’s not a massive liar,” Alya said as she flipped open her textbook. She didn’t need to say a name for both boys to know who she was referencing. The last new student, Lila, had a habit of telling falsities and getting others in trouble. A few weeks ago, she had told the entire class that she would be spending the remainder of the year at sea. No one believed that she was telling the truth. “I looked her up and there’s absolutely nothing about her on the internet. No Twitter, no Instagram, nothing. She’s like a ghost.”

“Maybe she likes her privacy?” Nino offered, which Alya rolled her eyes at.

“No teen doesn’t have some form of social media. Something’s fishy about her already. No worries, though. You’ll know I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

Adrien felt a bit bad for this new girl already. She hadn’t even set foot into the classroom and judgments about her were starting to form. He knew a little bit about that.

“Alright everyone, settle down,” Madame Bustier said as she made her way in front of her desk. “I’m sure many of you have already heard, but we will be having a new student joining us today. I hope you’ll give her the same kindness that you give each other.” At that moment, the door opened, and it was like the class held a collective breath.

The new student walked into the room, her arms full of textbooks that she hadn’t gotten the chance to put in her backpack. Adrien remembered how it had been on his first day of class. The introductions to the teachers and the principal had moved rather quickly and he had been shoved into a classroom full of eyes on him. Although he was a model, the feelings of being looked at on a runway and being stared at in a classroom were entirely different. He remembered the latter making his skin crawl.

So, he looked away from the girl, trying to make her more comfortable with one less pair of eyes on her.

“Would you like to introduce yourself to the class?” Madame Bustier asked, a warm smile gracing her features. The girl’s eyes widened and her mouth opened just slightly in surprise. She looked toward the class and pressed her lips together.

“Hello,” She said, her voice sounding meek before she cleared her throat. “I’m (Y/N) (L/N). I’m really excited to be here.” Her French was good, but Adrien recognized a slight accent. The rest of the class must have recognized it too, because Chloe and Sabrina giggled in the front row.

The new girl, (Y/N), noticed their quips and frowned.

“(Y/N), you can take a seat next to Nathaniel at the back of the class.” She nodded, moving to follow through with Madame Bustier’s instructions, when Alya raised her hand. “Yes, Alya?”

“Since Marinette isn’t here today, (Y/N) could sit next to me.” As much as he liked Alya as his friend, Adrien sighed. So it began.

“That’s very kind of you, Alya,” Madame Bustier said in response. “(Y/N), you can sit in Marinette’s seat until she returns to class.” (Y/N) scurried to her seat, but as she walked past she exchanged a glance in Adrien’s direction. He smiled at her, but she looked away before she could notice.

Madame Bustier was starting their lesson, but Adrien found it difficult to pay attention. He was curious about the new student and, despite himself, was straining himself to hear her whispered conversations to Alya so he could learn just a bit more about her. It had been a while since they had had a new student. Lila was their last one, and while Adrien always tried to speak kindly of others, having her gone did make the classroom less…tense.

“One more thing,” Madame Bustier said, turning back toward the class. “Since we have a new student today, we will reschedule our quiz for next week.” The class erupted into a chorus of cheers. Nino turned around, a bright smile on his face, and Adrien took this chance to turn around as well.

“Thanks a ton, new girl!” Nino said. She raised her eyebrows.

“Oh, um, you’re welcome?”

Once their lesson was finished, the students rose to their feet to rush to their next class. Adrien’s next class was art, but his teacher was very relaxed and easy-going, so he hung back for a few seconds to introduce himself to (Y/N).

“Hey,” He said, walking up a few steps so they were level with each other. “I’m Adrien! It’s really nice to meet you.”

(Y/N) looked up from studying her class schedule. She paused for a moment before she smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, too!” She laughed, putting the remainder of her things in her backpack. “Sorry, I’m still a little rusty on my French. It takes me a few seconds to understand what someone’s saying.”

“I think your French is really good!” And he truly did. Her grammar was perfect, her pronunciation was just a little skewed. The same thing happened to Adrien whenever he practiced Mandarin, although then Nathalie would come in and drill perfection.

“Thank you,” (Y/N) said. She gave him a relieved smile.

“Where’d you move from?”

“Well, I was born here, but I moved to the U.S. when I was very little. I’ve been living there up until now.”

“If it makes things easier for you, I could speak English?” He switched to the language. “It’s really no trouble at all.”

(Y/N) gaped at him. “You have no accent,” She said in French. “How do you do it?”

“Years and years of practice,” Adrien smiled, still speaking in English. “My dad’s big on learning all the languages you can, or at least all of the ones that are relevant for business.”

“You don’t have to worry about speaking English with me,” (Y/N) reassured him. “I spent pretty much my entire life speaking it, it’s good practice for me.” Adrien nodded.

“What’s your next class?” He asked in French, reaching for her schedule. “We have art together! I’m headed there now if you’d like to walk?”

“That’d be great,” (Y/N) slung her backpack over her shoulder. “My biggest fear on first days is getting lost and stumbling into the wrong classroom.” Adrien laughed as he led her out of Madame Bustier’s classroom.

“That was mine, too. I only came here at the start of the year. It was pretty intimidating, but everyone here is really nice.”

“I’m really glad to hear it.” They walked down the hall, to the stairs that led down to the first level.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why’d you have to come here so close to the end of the school year?” There were only two months left. It was certainly an odd time to transfer.

Something changed in (Y/N’s) face then. Adrien didn’t know her well at all, but it was obvious that she wore her emotions front and center. Her smile became tighter, more forced. “I moved to live with my aunt.” She shrugged. “I guess you could say that I needed a change of scenery.”

It didn’t seem like the whole truth, but Adrien wouldn’t pry. This was only their first day meeting, after all. “My dad actually knows your aunt,” He said quickly, attempting to distract her from whatever thought was troubling her. (Y/N) stared at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“You know my aunt?” And Adrien’s face turned red. He hadn’t been expecting that reaction.

“Well, yeah. She’s a really famous writer in France.”

(Y/N) hummed in interest, as if this was a fact that she had been unaware of. He held the door to their art class open for her. “Seats in this class aren’t really assigned,” Adrien explained as he followed behind her.

“Would you mind if I sat next to you?” Adrien smiled.

“Not at all!” It felt good, being on the opposite end of this dynamic. When he had first arrived, Adrien had so desperately wanted genuine friends. He was glad to have the ability to give someone that friendship when he knew they were looking for it.

(Y/N’s) face visibly relaxed as she and Adrien took their seats next to each other. The teacher began calling out instructions at a rapid pace, but it was the same speech about grabbing supplies that he used every day. (Y/N) looked at Adrien in confusion and while he held in his laugh, his smile was still apparent on his face. He gathered his supplies, as well as (Y/N’s), and she gave him a grateful thanks before starting to work on their assignment.

“Hey, Adrikins,” Chloe said as she took the seat on the other side of him. He looked behind her to find Sabrina working on two sketches at once. He frowned. “Are we still on for our date tomorrow?” She said this statement rather loudly, directing it more at (Y/N) than anyone else.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed (Y/N) glance over. Her brows furrowed in confusion, but she shrugged, returning to her own canvas. Adrien sighed. “It’s not a date, Chloe,” He reminded her. “I’m just tutoring you in Spanish.”

“What you should probably do is tutor the new girl in French,” Chloe scoffed. “Did you hear her accent? It was terrible, absolutely terrible.”

“Nice to meet you,” (Y/N) inserted herself into the conversation, staring calmly at Chloe. “I’m (Y/N), the girl with the horrible French accent? Sorry about that, by the way. I spent the majority of my life living in the United States, so it’s going to take a while for me to be able to speak two languages perfectly. I’m sure you’d understand the challenge, what with needing tutoring in Spanish and all.” The last sentence was a mild jab at Chloe, but it still left her sputtering. With a huff, she retreated to Sabrina.

(Y/N) sat back in her seat, raising her eyebrow at Adrien. “She’s your friend?”

“Our parents were friends,” Adrien explained. “We grew up together. Don’t mind her, she’s all bark and no bite.” (Y/N) pursed her lips, mixing the paints on her palette.

“I don’t let any of my friends talk to people like that,” She said quietly. “Regardless of how long I’ve known them.” She dipped her paintbrush in a light blue color and began painting. Adrien watched, worrying that perhaps she had gotten the wrong opinion of him. He cleared his throat and turned his attention back to his own painting. It had happened once before, with Marinette. He hoped that he could convince this girl he was capable of being a good friend, as well.

Chapter Text

One thing that (Y/N) realized rather quickly about her aunt was that she worked very odd hours. The day (Y/N) arrived, aside from the time in the kitchen, her aunt had been locked away in her bedroom trying to meet her deadline. Today, she was standing in the kitchen, eager to hear (Y/N’s) thoughts on her first day at a Parisian high school.

(Y/N) had always known that her aunt was a writer, but she never knew that her aunt was famous for her writings. She supposed there were a lot of things that she didn’t know about her aunt. Marguerite hadn’t come to visit once in the fifteen years that (Y/N) had been alive. The only reason she knew that she was her aunt was because her father had kept a framed photo of the two of them on the mantle above the fireplace. Still, it was strange and a little bit surreal to find out that her aunt was famous enough to be known by others, even her classmates.

“It went well,” (Y/N) said, answering the question before her aunt could say it. She dropped her backpack on the kitchen floor. “Nearly everyone was nice to me.”

“Nearly?” Her aunt asked, raising an eyebrow. (Y/N) shrugged.

“I mean, no one was exactly mean to me. One girl made fun of my accent, but I’m not like, upset about it or anything.”

“Who was it?”

“You’d know who my classmates are?” Marguerite gave her a pointed look, one that read, Just tell me already. “I think her name is Chloe?”

Her aunt groaned with a roll of her eyes. “The Bourgeois girl? That whole family is insufferable. Her father is the Mayor of Paris, you know, and her mother is some sort of fashion designer I think.” (Y/N) swallowed. She had always imagined that Paris was a large city. She hadn’t anticipated that everyone would be so connected.

“If she bothers you again, you let me know.” Her aunt stared at her expectantly, so (Y/N) nodded wordlessly. She had no intention of actually telling her aunt if anything else happened with Chloe. She could handle her own battles. “Did you make any friends?”

“I think so,” (Y/N) said with a nod. “One girl, Alya, was really nice to me. She showed me around and ate lunch with me and introduced me to everyone.” (Y/N) paused, thinking about Adrien. Would she really consider him a new friend? After their interaction with Chloe in art class, his friendship with her had put a sour taste in her mouth. (Y/N) viewed friends as a reflection of who you were. So, if Chloe was horrible, then by association, Adrien would have to be as well.

She had asked Alya about him while they ate lunch together. Alya had given her a teasing look and asked if she had a crush on him like every other girl in Paris. It turned out that Adrien’s father was Gabriel Agreste, the owner of a fashion empire that (Y/N) had never heard of. She hated that she had arrived here so clueless.

“I met someone who said their dad knew you,” (Y/N) said, deciding to share more of her day with Marguerite. Her aunt seemed genuinely intrigued. “Adrien Agreste?”

“That’s Gabriel’s son, isn’t it?” As (Y/N) nodded, a smile grew on Marguerite’s face. “He’s a good man. Became a bit reclusive after his wife disappeared, but who wouldn’t be distraught over something like that?” Her aunt paused, waiting to see if her words had affected her niece, but (Y/N) let them roll off of her like water. “I’ve known Gabriel since we were children. We fell off a bit, as people do when they grow older, but he’s always been very talented. He used to go to school with your father and I.”

That was what sent (Y/N) into inner turmoil. The idea that there was a part of her father’s life that she had never known, and likely never would. She swallowed the knot that was forming in her throat.

(Y/N’s) father had passed away a month ago, but the wound was still as fresh as it was the first day. They had gone out together for takeout and had run into a mugger on their way back home. Things escalated rather quickly. (Y/N) had trouble remembering what was fact and what was part of the nightmares that plagued her occasionally. What she did know was that while (Y/N) and the mugger had remained unharmed, her father had left the crime scene in a body bag.

She had to admit, it was very Peter Parker or Batman-esque, but it was hardly an origin story. (Y/N) had spent the weeks leading up to her flight to Paris either sobbing herself to sleep or trying so hard to keep herself together. Heroes used the bad things that happened to them as drive to do better, while (Y/N) was just trying to talk about them during her therapy sessions without crying.

(Y/N) glanced around the house as she sat at the kitchen island, desperate to find a new topic of conversation. “Where’s Albert?”

“He’s back at school.” Marguerite moved over to the stove to make some coffee. If she had any idea of what was racing through (Y/N’s) mind, she gave no indication. “He goes to a boarding school in the countryside. His spring recess just ended, so he won’t be back until summer.”

“Why does he go there when Francois Dupont is so close?” Her aunt turned around, her golden kettle heating up on the stove.

“Paris has a bit of a supervillain problem.”

“Pardon?”

“Do you know who Ladybug and Chat Noir are?” (Y/N) shook her head, not recognizing the names at all. “They save Paris from all the bad guys. The main one, Hawk Moth, uses his powers to prey on people’s negative emotions and turn them into their own version of a supervillain.” Her aunt sighed. “I send Albert to the country to keep him safe. I tried to send you there, too, but they wouldn’t accept a new student so late into the school year.”

(Y/N) gulped. That was certainly a lot to take in. She knew superheroes existed. There were plenty around the U.S., although they tended to stick toward cities with a higher population, like New York or D.C. But the thought of living in a city that needed superheroes so frequently sent her anxiety into overdrive. What was the crime rate like? How often did these attacks happen?

Her aunt poured two cups of coffee, sliding one of the mugs over to (Y/N). She placed the sugar and creamer onto the counter so she could adjust it to her liking. “Really, you shouldn’t worry about it. It’s happened to everyone at least once and Chat Noir and Ladybug always manage to save the day.” ‘Manage’ did little to reassure (Y/N).

“Has it ever happened to you?” (Y/N) asked. Her aunt shook her head, giving (Y/N) a teasing smile.

“Albert’s always at school, so I don’t have anyone to get mad at!”

The next morning, (Y/N) left her aunt’s apartment just a few minutes later than she had the day before. She didn’t have any meetings scheduled with her teachers or the principal today, and she resolved to find the perfect travel sweet spot that would allow her to get optimal sleeping time while not having to run to class. She had been downing sleeping medication every night since she had arrived in an effort to get her schedule on track, but jet lag was kicking her butt. It took all of her strength to stay awake during class yesterday, so today she increased her caffeine intake by another cup of coffee.

She walked down the street, sipping at her coffee while simultaneously trying to eat her chocolate croissant for breakfast. (Y/N) was an eat-on-the-go kind of person. She didn’t enjoy sitting down for meals by herself. They reminded her of the absence of her father.

Her phone buzzed in her back pocket as she walked. (Y/N) hoped that it was a text so she could ignore it until she got back to school, but it kept buzzing, indicating it was a phone call. With a sigh, (Y/N) slowed her pace, switching her croissant to her other friend as she looked at who was calling her.

INCOMING CALL: BEN

(Y/N) sighed, figuring that she could avoid him no longer. She met his texts with various one-worded replies, but boys were dense. She answered the phone and resumed her walk. “It’s two in the morning where you are,” She chided, and she was met with Ben’s deep laugh on the other end of the line.

“I’m fully aware of that. What time is it there?”

“Eight. I’m on my way to school.”

“How’s that going?”

“Fine, I guess. I don’t know, it’s only been one day. Is there any reason you called me?”

Ben sighed. “I wanted to talk to you. You haven’t exactly been the easiest to get ahold of.” (Y/N) frowned. Sometimes, she wished that her thought processes flashed across her head like a road sign. She’d get them to say in bright letters, I KNOW WE KISSED BEFORE I LEFT BUT I’M NOT SURE IF I WANT IT TO MEAN ANYTHING.

“I’m sorry,” She told him, and she meant it. She wasn’t exactly being fair to him. As far as Ben knew, they were star-crossed lovers whose chance at happiness was ruined by fate. (Y/N) was just surprised that he was putting this much effort into talking to her. She never expected the phrase ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ to actually be true. “Settling in has been a lot. I still can’t get my sleep schedule on track and I’m essentially living with a stranger, so…” She huffed to blow a few strands of hair out of her face. “I’ll try to be better about replying, I promise.”

“You don’t have to,” Ben assured her. “I’d just like a text every once in a while that’s more than the thumbs up emoji.” (Y/N) giggled.

“How about the side eye? Or the monkey covering his eyes?”

It was Ben’s turn to laugh. “More words, less emojis, (L/N).” (Y/N) nodded, despite Ben being unable to see her.

“Okay, deal.” She stopped just below the steps of her school, waving her few free fingers to Alya. “I just got to school, I’ll talk to you later, alright?”

“Goodnight, (Y/N),” He said, his voice soft. (Y/N) smiled.

“Good morning, Ben.” By the time she hung up the call, Alya was just a few steps away from her.

“You must be pretty busy if you’re taking phone calls this early in the day,” Alya said, a sly smile gracing her face. (Y/N) shook her head, shoving the last bite of her croissant into her mouth.

“It’s just a friend from home,” She said. It was simpler to refer to Ben as that: just a friend. (Y/N) chugged the rest of her coffee and tightened the lid, tossing the reusable cup into her bookbag. Alya waited for her at the bottom of the steps before the two started their walk to class.

“Did you leave a lot of friends behind in the U.S.?” Alya questioned, and (Y/N) shrugged.

“A few. They’re all people I’ve known forever though, so I don’t think living across an entire ocean will harm our friendship much.” At least, that’s what she hoped. She tried not to think about all the things she and her friends had looked forward to throughout their lives that she would now be missing out on. Prom, homecoming, the senior class trip. She clutched her literature textbook to her chest to try and soothe the ache in her heart. “The friend I was talking to was this guy Ben. We’ve been friends since the second grade.”

Alya raised an eyebrow, curious about this new slice of her life that (Y/N) had just shared, when she was interrupted by a shout. Both girls turned to watch Marinette Dupain-Cheng barrel toward them. Marinette skidded to a halt just moments away from crashing directly into (Y/N). She wobbled on her feet, leaning over like she was about to fall, before (Y/N) caught her wrist and righted her.

“Marinette?” (Y/N) guessed, a giggle playing on her tone. Their faces were only inches apart and Marinette turned bright red before jumping to a more appropriate distance.

“(Y/N)!” Marinette exclaimed. “I’m so sorry! I was running late and my feet were moving too fast for me to catch up.”

“Story of your life,” Alya teased, nudging Marinette’s side with her elbow. Marinette gave her an exasperated look before offering her hand to (Y/N).

“It’s nice to actually meet you!” (Y/N) took Marinette’s hand and shook it firmly.

“Nice to meet you too,” And (Y/N) grinned at her new friend. (Y/N) wasn’t much of a believer in fate, but there were some instances where you looked at someone and could tell that they would fit into your lives naturally, like they had always been there. (Y/N) got that feeling about Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and silently hoped that Marinette felt the same way.

Since Marinette was present for class today, (Y/N) walked up the steps of their classroom to the very back row to sit next to Nathaniel. On her way, she passed Adrien, who smiled brightly up at her. She gave him a tight smile back before scurrying to take her seat. She was still forming her opinions about him.

The back of the classroom was a bit darker than the front, as well as much quieter. Despite her attempts at conversation, Nathaniel wasn’t much of a talker. Many of (Y/N’s) questions were met with one-worded answers, or simply silence. The majority of his attention was focused on the notebook that he drew in. His shoulder blocked her nearly all of her view of it, but she tried to subtly crane her neck to see what he was drawing. If the snippets of imagery were anything to go by, Nathaniel was a very talented artist.

With a lack of communication and a darker area, (Y/N) found it hard to keep her eyes open during Madame Bustier’s lesson. She leaned her chin on the palm of her hand. Her notebook was completely empty. Madame Bustier’s French was hard to keep up with, especially when (Y/N’s) mind was wrapped up in thoughts of her soft bed back home.

The bell rang and while everyone else jumped out of their seats to get to their next class, (Y/N) took her time. Stifling a yawn, she shoved her materials back in her bag and sleepily made her way down the steps. She was very surprised to find Adrien at the bottom. “What are you doing?” She asked, rubbing at her eyes.

“Waiting for you,” Adrien replied simply. That woke (Y/N) right up.

“Oh, well that’s kind of you.”

“You actually, um, messed up your makeup when you rubbed your eye.” (Y/N) cursed and fumbled for her phone in her bag to use its camera, but Adrien held up his in assistance. Sure enough, her mascara had smeared under her eye when she rubbed it. She wiped it away and smiled at him gratefully.

“Thanks! I wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t said something.” They walked together to art class. (Y/N) wondered why he would rather walk with her than walk with Chloe. The two of them seemed to be rather close.

“How was your first day?”

“It was good,” (Y/N) said with a nod. “You were right, pretty much everyone is really nice.” She yawned, too late to hide it. “I am having a hard time getting used to the time difference.”

“What time would it be for you normally?” (Y/N) paused to think. Her brain was moving just a few seconds slower than normal.

“Around four in the morning.” She sighed. “I wish I could inject coffee directly into my veins.” Adrien laughed.

“I know how that feels. Sometimes I have to travel around the world for some of my dad’s photoshoots. I don’t think I’ve had a normal sleep schedule in years.”

“You go to photoshoots?” Adrien furrowed his blond brows, a confused smile on his face.

“I’m in them,” And (Y/N’s) mouth dropped open in surprise. She snapped it shut. She hadn’t realized that one of her classmates was a model. And a legitimate one, too, not like some of those Instagram models.

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I have absolutely no idea who you are. I asked my aunt about you, since you said that your dad knew her, and I still didn’t have any idea.” She huffed, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t realize everyone here was famous.”

Adrien laughed and held the door for her once more as they entered their art classroom. (Y/N) could feel Chloe’s blue eyes piercing daggers at her from across the room, but she tried her best to ignore her and focus on her conversation with Adrien. “It’s kind of refreshing, actually,” Adrien told her as they sat down at their seats. Normally people know who I am before I even meet them. And not everyone here is famous.”

“Right, just the son of a world-famous fashion designer and the daughter of the mayor of Paris.” Adrien grinned at her quip as he tied his apron around his front.

“You know, if you need some coffee, Marinette’s parents own a really great bakery just down the street. We could go there during lunch if you wanted.” Before (Y/N) could open her mouth to reply, Adrien corrected himself. “With Marinette, Alya, and Nino! It could be a whole group thing to celebrate your arrival.”

(Y/N’s) eyes widened and she felt her face get hot. That was…very nice. She bit her lip to contain her wide smile and excitement. “Sure, I’d really like that.”

Chapter Text

TEXT GROUP WITH ADRIEN, ALYA, NINO, AND 1 OTHER

ADRIEN: Marinette, would it be alright if we went to your parents’ bakery for pastries and coffee during the lunch hour?

ADRIEN: The unknown number is (Y/N)!

(Y/N): hi!

Marinette stared in shock as the text messages came through her phone. She looked up from the screen and bored her eyes into the back of Alya’s head, willing her best friend to check her phone. The two were currently in their health class and it was the only one where they weren’t sitting right next to each other.

Marinette felt her heart beating hard against her chest. Adrien wanted to go to the bakery? She felt anxiety creep within her. What brought this on? How did he get (Y/N’s) number before she did? How could she be expected to act normally when they would be in the close quarters of her parents’ shop?

ALYA: Chill. I can feel your anxiety from here

Marinette glanced up at her friend, but Alya’s face was still trained toward the board. She typed back a quick text.

MARINETTE: What should I say???

ALYA: How bout yes?

ALYA: You’ll get to know the new girl plus spend time with Adrien

Marinette frowned.

MARINETTE: I’m over him!!

ALYA: As a friend then

Marinette chewed on her thumbnail. She and Adrien were friends. There was nothing wrong with hanging out with friends. Still, there was a little part of her that felt guilty about the possibility of hanging out with him. For what reason, she wasn’t sure.

Marinette inhaled a deep breath and returned to the group message, where Adrien’s texts sat unanswered.

MARINETTE: That would be awesome!! We can all meet on the steps after class, okay??

Each member of the group responded to her message with a thumbs up, except (Y/N).

(Y/N): thank you marinette :)

Their health class was on the first floor, so Marinette and Alya were the first to reach the steps once their lesson ended. Nino joined them next, coming from his history class. Adrien and (Y/N) arrived together and although she hated the reaction, Marinette’s stomach twisted. She hated boys sometimes. They jumbled your emotions and made you feel things for reasons you don’t know.

I like Luka, Marinette told herself. I do not like Adrien. She hoped that if she repeated it in her head enough times, it would eventually come true.

(Y/N) waved as she walked up to them. “I’m really excited to try your parents’ bakery,” She told Marinette. “Adrien said they have the best pastries in all of Paris!”

“All of France,” Alya corrected with a wink. Marinette felt her face flush.

“O-Oh, well I don’t know about that! My dad does get invited to cater events sometimes, but I think it’s because people know who he is? Maybe?” Adrien shook his head.

“Your parents are really talented, Marinette,” He said with a genuine smile, and Marinette gripped onto Alya’s arm to keep herself from fainting. She set her jaw. She had Luka. Adrien had Kagami. It was as simple as that.

The group of five walked down the sidewalk together. Marinette led the way with (Y/N) at her side, while Alya, Nino, and Adrien all hung back and talked about a new movie that was coming out this weekend. Marinette glanced out of the corner of her eye to watch (Y/N). The girl’s eyes darted around to every bit of motion that surrounded them. Marinette might have interpreted it as curiosity, but it seemed more like she was scanning her surroundings.

“So,” Marinette said, bringing (Y/N’s) attention back to her. The worried draw of her brows dissipated and she regarded Marinette with a kind expression. “What kind of pastries do you like? My parents have all sorts.”

(Y/N) hummed, pursing her lips as she thought of her answer. “That’s a really tough question because I’ll eat almost anything sweet. I really like cookies and cakes, but since I’ve arrived in Paris, I’ve been trying to eat more macarons and croissants.” (Y/N) closed her eyes like she was reminiscing. “I ate a chocolate croissant for breakfast. It was so good.”

“I love chocolate croissants! And macarons.” Marinette shrugged. “Kinda hard to be the daughter of bakers and not love anything sweet.”

(Y/N) grinned. “I’m really glad everyone could come! I told Adrien that I’m practically falling asleep during my classes and he suggested some coffee and pastries from your parents’ place.”

“I’m glad we could come, too,” Marinette smiled. “I’m really excited to get to know you more. Our last new student sort of turned into my mortal enemy.”

(Y/N) let out a loud, surprised laugh that startled their friends behind them. She clamped her mouth shut quickly. “How could you get a mortal enemy? You seem so nice!”

“I try not to talk badly about people,” Marinette said as she inhaled a deep breath. “But under absolutely no circumstances should you trust Lila Rossi. She’s a liar and she almost got me expelled!”

“Oof, a compulsive liar,” (Y/N) shook her head. “We had a few at my school. Every year, there was always someone who lied about having some sort of rare disease and then after everyone felt bad for them, they’d be miraculously cured.”

Marinette gaped at her. “That seriously happened? More than once?”

“Dude, American public schools are insane.”

Tom and Sabine Dupain-Cheng were more than excited to find that Marinette had brought her friends back for lunch. They particularly fawned over (Y/N), as they usually did when they met one of Marinette’s friends for the first time. Before they could bombard her with questions about her whole life story, Marinette grabbed her by one arm while gripping the plate of desserts in another. “We really have to get upstairs to eat lunch,” Marinette told them, “We only have an hour and a half!”

So, Marinette pulled her friends into her apartment and tried hard not to think about the idea of Adrien being so close to her room. They sat at the dining table that she and Luka had eaten lunch at just yesterday. (Y/N) sipped the mug of fresh coffee that Sabine had given her and sighed happily. “Hopefully now I’ll be able to make it through chemistry.”

“Good luck,” Nino snorted. “When she isn’t yelling at you, Miss Mendeleiev is super boring.”

“She’s strict, too,” Alya added. “Don’t use your phone in her class unless you want it taken away for the week.”

“She can do that?”

“Probably not, but she does anyway.”

“So, (Y/N),” Marinette started. “What made you move to Paris?”

And Marinette caught the familiar flash in the eyes that indicated when someone was lying. After dealing with Lila so many times, Marinette had developed a good sense for liars. “I don’t really know my aunt, so I came to stay with her for a bit.” (Y/N) sipped at her coffee, casting her eyes down.

“Her aunt is Marguerite Estrelle,” Alya said.

“The writer?” All thoughts of (Y/N) lying had been tossed aside as excitement flooded through her. “I have nearly all of her books in my room. She’s seriously talented.”

“You’ve read her books?” (Y/N) scrunched her nose.

“You haven’t?” She shook her head.

“Like I said, I’m not really close with my aunt. I knew she was a writer, but I didn’t know she was famous until Adrien mentioned it. I especially didn’t know that people my age read her books.”

(Y/N) was definitely a curious person. Who didn’t know that their own relative was a famous author? There was a lot more to (Y/N) than she let on, which made Marinette slightly suspicious, but (Y/N) didn’t give her the troublesome or bad vibes that she usually got from Chloe or Lila. (Y/N) seemed like a kind person and Marinette liked to consider herself a good judge of character.

Okay, there was that whole thing with Kagami, but still. Most of the time, Marinette was a good judge of character.

“She actually told me some really insane stuff about Paris yesterday. Apparently you guys have live-in superheroes?”

Alya gasped in excitement while Marinette clamped her mouth shut. “You don’t know about Ladybug and Chat Noir?” (Y/N) shook her head. “Girl, give me your phone. I’m putting in my Ladyblog link and assigning you reading as tonight’s homework. You’ll probably be awake anyway.”

(Y/N) laughed and slid her phone over to Alya. “You didn’t know Paris had superheroes?” Adrien asked. “But, I thought the United States had them too?”

“I think it’s pretty safe to assume that I’m absolutely clueless about anything that goes on in Paris.” The table shared a laugh. “We have heroes, but they’re not usually in smaller towns like where I lived.”

Marinette thought back to her trip to New York City, when she and Chat Noir had encountered the very heroes that (Y/N) was mentioning. She supposed the United States was big enough that what was big in New York might not be big in other areas. “Alya thinks Ladybug and Chat Noir are the coolest things since sliced bread,” Marinette joked. Alya snorted.

“Ew, Marinette, who even says that anymore?” Her voice was light, so Marinette knew she was only teasing. “Really, my main focus is on Ladybug. She’s the mastermind behind the two.” Adrien let out a scoff.

“I think Chat Noir is underrated.” Nino nodded in agreement.

“I mean, who do you think would win in a fight?” The boy asked. “Ladybug or Chat Noir?”

“Ladybug, one-hundred percent,” Marinette declared. There was absolutely no way that Chat would ever beat her in a fight. There were plenty of instances when he had been akumatized and she had still taken him down.

As if reading her mind, Alya brought up this point. Adrien and Nino shook their heads. “Chat Noir has Cataclysm! He could end Ladybug with one touch!” Nino exclaimed.

Alya rolled her eyes. “As if he would. Everyone knows he’s in love with her.”

Marinette felt her face burn bright red and she stared down at her hands, trying hard to avoid looking at any of her friends. “What do you think, (Y/N)?” Adrien asked. “Who would win in a fight between Ladybug and Chat Noir?”

(Y/N) shook her head, raising her hands defensively. “I’m abstaining from this argument. I haven’t seen either of them in a fight.”

“Maybe watch some videos, too,” Alya suggested as she handed her phone back. (Y/N) nodded and while the four friends dove into conversation, Marinette remained silent. She took the now empty plate of desserts into the kitchen to wash the plate.

She jumped as she felt an arm on her shoulder. Looking up, she found Adrien’s green eyes staring down at her. “Let me help with that, Marinette. It was my idea to come here.”

“It’s really no trouble,” Marinette reassured him, turning away so he wouldn’t see the heat in her face. She could still feel his eyes on her. It was always like that with Adrien; she was constantly aware of his every movement. She poured the soap on the sponge.

“Marinette, really, I insist,” He reached out to take the plate from her and his fingers brushed her own. She dropped the plate into the sink and its loud clatter silenced their friends at the table. Marinette looked up to explain herself but was silenced by an even louder crash outside.

Marinette rushed past Adrien to her living room windows, which Nino, Alya, and (Y/N) were already pressed up against. A grey figure flew past the building, toward the center of the city. The citizens below remained in place, which Marinette found odd. Typically, during an akuma attack, everyone ran indoors. What were they thinking?

(Y/N) gasped, and the four friends turned to look at her. “They’re all statues,” She whispered, her eyes wide with horror.

“Are you kids okay?” Marinette’s father and mother walked through the front door, their faces contorted into worried expressions.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Sabine sighed, placing a hand on her chest. “We’re so glad you’re all safe. Please, let your families know that you’re here with us. We’ll all stay together.”

Marinette pursed her lips. She had to find a way to get herself alone and she needed to do it fast. “I uh, I have to run upstairs and lock the door to my patio.” Before she could dart to her room, (Y/N) grabbed her by the arm.

“Shouldn’t someone go with you?” She questioned, her eyes flashing between each of their friends. Marinette’s heart broke for her. This was her first akuma attack and she looked so scared.

Marinette patted (Y/N’s) hand and lifted it off her arm. “I’ll be okay, I promise! I’ll be right back.” She ran up her stairs and into her room, closing and locking the door behind her so that no one could check on her.

Tikki flew out of her purse pocket, a look of determination on her tiny face. “Alright, we’ve got to get to the bottom of this.”

“What will you tell your friends if they come up here and realize you’re missing?” That was Wayzz’s voice as he flew into Marinette’s face. She glanced at the Miracle Box on her desk and lifted it, placing it in a place that no one would check: in her bed.

“I’ll tell them that I went up to the patio to get a better look and got turned to stone.” Marinette was not a fan of lying, but it was a necessary part of being Ladybug. “Tikki, spots on!”

She transformed within seconds and jumped up to her roof. The akumatized villain was headed toward the local news station. Marinette threw her yo-yo into the air, swinging from building to building as she tried to keep up with them.

In situations like these, when she wasn’t quite sure what the villain could do or what they wanted, Marinette liked to lay low and watch. It killed her sometimes, to watch the people of Paris suffer in the meantime, but there wouldn’t be anything she could do if she got herself turned into stone.

The villain strode through the doors of the news station and disappeared into the building. Marinette set her jaw. Why was he always late?

As if summoned by her thoughts, Chat Noir landed right beside her. “Sorry, Bugaboo, I had a hard time getting away.”

“The villain went inside of the news station,” Marinette said. “I haven’t been able to get close enough to figure out where her akuma is, but I think we should stay low. Don’t want either of us turning into stone.”

Chat Noir glanced down at the city, where dozens of citizens had been turned into statues. “The city looks like some sort of creepy art exhibit,” He said with a shudder.

“I figure there’s only one reason why a villain would want to use the news station.”

“She wants to broadcast something,” Chat Noir guessed. Marinette nodded. “I guess now’s the wrong time to ask the city to cancel their cable subscriptions.” She rolled her eyes, holding in a groan.

“We should head inside from the access on the roof.” The two heroes launched themselves across the street, landing on the roof of the news station by somersaulting. Chat Noir kicked the door that led inside down, gesturing forward with his arm.

“Ladybugs first.” He grinned down at her as Marinette scoffed.

“Sure, send me headfirst into danger. You’re not scared, are you kitty cat?”

“As if!” Chat Noir followed her down the numerous flights of stairs. They had been in this building before, between interviews and other akumas, so they both knew where the broadcast room was. They burst inside to see the statues of cameramen and news anchors. The villain turned around, a smirk forming on her grey skin. She wore sunglasses and her hair writhed and wiggled. Upon closer inspection, Marinette realized that her hair was actually made of snakes.

Marinette gasped as the woman went to move her sunglasses. Marinette knocked Chat to the side, both clattering behind the sound booth. “Ooh, clever Ladybug,” The villain drawled. “You’ve already figured out who I am, hm?”

Chat stared at her with confusion, still not understanding. “Medusa,” She whispered. “She’ll turn us into stone if we look at her.”

“So how do we stop her?” Marinette peered quickly around the sound booth to find that Medusa was nowhere to be found.

“I’m not sure just yet,” She admitted. Clearing her throat, she threw her yo-yo into the air, shouting, “Lucky Charm!”

A bag of marbles dropped into her lap. Chat Noir frowned. “I haven’t played with those since I was a kid.”

“I honestly doubt they’re for playing.”

“Peekaboo!” Medusa said from above.

“Don’t look, just run!” Marinette shouted, separating herself from Chat Noir. They darted to opposite ends of the room, far from Medusa’s reach. The villain and her hair of snakes hissed, scrambling to put her glasses back on.

“Seize them!” Medusa shouted, and all at once, the statues began to move. Their bodies creaked with the sound of stone sliding on stone. Marinette looked around, desperate to find some sort of clue as to how she could use her marbles. As the statues closed in on her, she looked up at the overhead lighting, which blinked with her Ladybug vision.

“Chat!” Marinette shouted as she flipped out of the way of a few statues. They collided with each other and then froze. If she were to be touched by them, she herself would turn into stone. “Put the spotlight on her!”

Chat Noir darted upwards to the scaffolding and moved the light fixture toward Medusa. She and her snakes recoiled from the light. Marinette shook her marbles onto the floor and as Medusa ran to escape the harsh, bright light, she slid on the marbles. Her back hit the floor with a harsh thud and Marinette flipped over her, snatching the glasses from her face. She landed on her feet near the door and snapped the glasses in half, breathing a sigh of relief as the purple akuma fluttered out.

“No more evildoing for you, little akuma,” Marinette said as she captured it within her yo-yo. She bid it goodbye before picking up one of her marbles and tossing it into the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

Her ladybugs returned everything to normal. The production team was no longer stone and Medusa transformed into a regular woman. Marinette walked over to her, offering her a hand to get to her feet. “What happened?” The woman asked, taking her sunglasses from Marinette.

“You were akumatized,” Chat Noir explained. “But don’t worry, you’re safe now.”

After everything at the news station was sorted, Chat Noir and Marinette retreated to another rooftop to rest. They watched as the city returned to normal. “That’s a full day between akuma attacks,” Marinette said as she crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s getting stronger and we aren’t any closer to figuring out how.”

“We just need to wait a little longer, Milady,” Chat Noir walked to her side. “He’ll slip up eventually.”

“And how long until then?” Marinette demanded, tipping her chin up defiantly. “He’s getting stronger and we aren’t.”

“What if we used more of the Miraculous? We could find new people—” Marinette shook her head. She had already run all of these scenarios through her head and each one ended in disaster.

“Hawk Moth already knows who all of the Miraculous holders were, except for us. We can’t risk that happening again.”

“We’ll be more prepared this time!” Chat Noir’s optimism was starting to get to her. Just once, Marinette would like to be allowed to mope, to be a little sad before she had to fix everything yet again.

She shook her head again. “If something doesn’t change soon…” She didn’t want to finish her sentence. Didn’t want to bring that thought into existence. If something doesn’t change soon, we’ll lose. Maintaining her strong optimism was getting harder as the fight with Hawk Moth grew more frustrating.

“Is there something else going on?” Chat asked. “You can talk to me, you know. We’re partners. Friends, even. If there’s anything I can help you with—”

“There isn’t,” Marinette cut him off. “I’m fine, Chat,” She sighed, rubbing at her forehead. “Sorry. I’ve just been thinking about this a lot and it seems like the more I do, the further I am from answers.” Before Chat could speak, Marinette tossed her yo-yo back toward her home. “See you later, kitty.” She didn’t wait for his reply before rappelling into the sky.

Marinette didn’t like this feeling. As she swung through Paris, it crawled further and further up into her chest, nearly suffocating her heart. She was starting to lose faith in herself.

Chapter Text

Ladybug had gotten frustrated with him before. She had even gotten angry. But he had never heard her speak to him that way before. As if saving the city was a burden only she bore, as if Adrien hadn’t been her partner from the very beginning. 

Adrien swallowed as he watched her zip through the skyline and further away. Further out of his reach. 

Adrien knew he needed to get back to his friends. His excuse of going to the bathroom could only last so long before it raised suspicion. But he took the long way back to Marinette’s house. As he ran, he could feel his muscles stretch and constrict and focused on pushing himself. Focused on anything, really, to get his mind off of Ladybug. 

That’s when he heard it: a sniffle, so minuscule and small that it would have been missed by the untrained ear. But his Miraculous gave him other gifts besides increased agility and his Cataclysm. All other senses, like sight and smell, were enhanced. 

He stopped near the source of the sound, an alley between a dry cleaners and sandwich shop. He remained on the roof at first, peering down to see what had intrigued him. Adrien couldn’t provide an answer for what brought him here. Perhaps it was the sour mood Ladybug had put him in, or it was his desire to put off getting back to his friends for even a few seconds. Pretending got so exhausting when you had to do it all the time. 

Adrien was surprised, then, to see (Y/N) sitting on the ground. Her back pressed against the brick exterior of the sandwich shop while her head lay in her hands. From his viewpoint, Adrien could see her shoulders shuddering with what could only be soft cries. His eyebrows drew together. What exactly happened between the time he left Marinette’s and now? 

He dropped down to the ground and inched over to her quietly. He didn’t want to startle her. “Hi,” Adrien said, because it was the best thing he could come up with. He dropped down to squat at her height. 

(Y/N’s) hands remained pressed to her face, but she moved her fingers just slightly so she could look up at him. “Oh. It’s just you,” She said, and Adrien couldn’t help but crack a smile. It was nice encountering someone who was so blissfully nonchalant about who he was, both in his superhero life and in his civilian one. “Do you think you could go away? I’m kind of in the middle of something here.” She punctuated her sentences with sniffles. 

Adrien ignored her request, instead choosing to sit on the ground with his legs crossed. His tail swished curiously behind him. “What’s wrong?” He tried to meet her eyes through the slots of her fingers.

(Y/N) sighed. “God, this is so embarrassing.”

“There’s nothing embarrassing about crying.” 

“Even if it’s in an alley in broad daylight?” Adrien chuckled. 

“A bit odd, that’s for sure. That’s why I came to check on you. What’s wrong?” He repeated the question again, tugging playfully at the cuffs of her jeans. 

She peeled her hands away from her face and wiped at her cheeks with the sleeve of her jacket. Adrien had seen lots of girls cry (usually at his expense), but he had never seen anyone cry quite like (Y/N). The emotion enveloped her and made her emotions so obvious. Her cheeks and eyelids were puffy and red. There was no way anyone wouldn’t be able to tell that she had cried. Her bottom lip trembled as she inhaled a deep breath. “Oh, I’m fine. Just...sometimes you need a good cry.” 

Adrien figured that was true, but he pursed his lips. “You’re lying.” He didn’t know (Y/N) that well, but she looked too upset to just be expressing regular emotion.

“Of course I’m lying. I’m already crying on the ground, I figure I don’t need to add my life story to this already embarrassing situation.” She stood, dusting off her jeans. “I’m fine, really. No crime here. Thanks for saving the city, by the way.” She winced. “Sorry if that’s weird. I don’t know how to interact with superheroes.” 

“Just like with regular people. Although a few songs of praise here and there wouldn’t hurt,” Adrien said as he stood. She laughed, and it was wet and gurgley from her tears but Adrien was still glad to hear it. “You don’t have to tell me why you’re crying, but I can’t leave you alone until you stop. It’s against my superhero code.” 

“You have one of those things?” 

“Well, it’s just my code, but I still try to stick to it.” 

(Y/N) looked him up and down. Adrien wished he knew her well enough to tell what she was thinking. It was hard to see anything past the tears. 

“I got...overwhelmed.” Perhaps this wasn’t a lie, but more of a half truth. “I just needed some time to myself, honest.” She wiped at her tears again. Her shoulders had stopped shaking but they kept coming, as if an involuntary reaction. She gave him a bright smile. “See, good as new. Chat Noir saves the day yet again.” 

“I’m not judging you for crying, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“That’s good to hear,” She sighed.  “I promise I’m not usually this emotional. You caught me at a bad time.” She extended her hand. “I’m (Y/N) (L/N).” 

Adrien took her hand and shook it softly. “Marguerite Estrelle’s niece?” It was like a little inside joke between them, only (Y/N) wasn’t aware. She rolled her eyes. 

“Is there some sort of newsletter that lets everyone know when someone new comes to town?” Adrien grinned. 

“No, I just like to keep tabs here and there. I’ve read a few of her books, they’re really great.” 

“I’ll pass along the sentiment,” (Y/N) muttered. “Listen, I’m really okay. I feel bad keeping you here from your civic duties. I just got a little freaked by the akuma attack. It was my first one.” 

Little was a bit of an understatement, but Adrien nodded. “They can be a lot. Just know that me and Ladybug always save the day.” The mention of her sent a pang through Adrien’s heart, but he tried his best to keep his cheerful expression on his face. “Do you…do you have someone you can call to take you home? Or would you prefer if I took you?” 

“As much as I appreciate it, a personal escort by Chat Noir might draw me a little more attention than I’m ready for.” She sniffled once more and smiled at him. “Yeah, I can text my aunt.” She pulled out her phone and typed a quick message. “She’ll be on her way soon.” 

Adrien smiled. His cheeks started to hurt from all the smiling he was doing. “Good.” 

“Thank you. For um, stopping by to check on me.” Her eyes refused to meet his. It was obvious that she was embarrassed by their interaction, although she didn’t need to be. Adrien placed his hands on his hips. 

“All in a day’s work, Miss (Y/N).” He pulled out his staff so he could launch himself back on the roof. “I hope I see you around.” 

“Hopefully not like this, ever again.” She waved as he took off. Unbeknownst to her, he remained on top of the dry cleaners’ building, waiting until a black car pulled up and (Y/N) settled safely inside. Then, he finally made his way to Marinette’s. 

Adrien wasn’t sure how much time had passed between the fight and his conversation with (Y/N), but he hoped that he could come up with some sort of excuse for his long absence. He slid through the bathroom window and shut it quietly behind him. He transformed back and a very exhausted Plagg collapsed into his hand, inhaling tired breaths. “Did you have to take so long talking to that girl? I was ready to transform back hours ago!” 

“It wasn’t that long,” Adrien chided as he pulled a piece of camembert from his pocket. “And I couldn’t just leave her there, Plagg. She looked so upset.” Plagg grumbled something incomprehensible as he gnawed on his cheese. Adrien placed him in his shirt pocket and stepped out of the bathroom to make his way back to Marinette’s living room. Marinette sat on her couch, with Alya’s arm around her shoulders. Nino stood behind them, but he rushed over to Adrien as soon as he walked in. 

“Adrien, dude, where have you been?” Nino asked. “We started to get worried about you.” 

“I, uhm,” Adrien blushed. Lowly, he muttered, “My stomach was really upset.” Nino scrunched his nose in disgust. 

“Gross, dude. I hope you used air freshener.” It was an embarrassing excuse, but one that prevented people from asking any unnecessary questions. Adrien sat beside Marinette on the couch. He noticed how she inched away from him, but decided not to bring it up. 

“Where’s (Y/N)?” Adrien asked. He was curious to find out what had happened here during his absence. 

“She took off after the akuma attack,” Alya explained. “She seemed really upset.” 

“It must’ve been so scary for her,” Marinette said quietly. “I don’t think she’s experienced anything like it before.” 

“I hope she’s okay,” Adrien frowned. He would have to message her. 

“It seemed like more than being scared from the akuma attack,” Alya said. Alya was always observant, always watching. She made Adrien the most nervous. Every time he interacted with her, he worried that she was only a few steps away from figuring out his secret. “She looked downright terrified. There’s gotta be something else going on with her, right?” 

Nino shrugged. “Maybe she’s just jumpy.” 

Adrien hummed in agreement, but his mind was going elsewhere. None of them really knew (Y/N’s) story before coming to Paris and she never seemed very eager to share it. 

They returned to school, and while Adrien hoped that (Y/N) would return to finish out the day, he was disappointed to find her seat empty when he looked back. His eyes met Marinette’s and she smiled sadly at him, shrugging. Adrien turned back around and sneaked his phone out of his pocket to shoot (Y/N) a quick text. 

ADRIEN: Hey! I noticed you didn’t come back to school, is everything okay?

He knew that everything was very much not okay, but he needed to play dumb. That was another difficult aspect of being Chat Noir: it was hard to keep track of what Chat knew and what Adrien didn’t. 

Once the school day ended, Adrien stayed after for fencing practice. It was the only activity that he was allowed to participate in outside of the house, other than his father’s photoshoots. Plus he got to see Kagami, which was definitely a bonus. 

Kagami walked up to him as soon as he entered the locker room. “You didn’t answer me today,” She said. “I was worried about you.” 

“I didn’t realize that you texted me,” Adrien pulled out his phone to see a text from Kagami that he had accidentally read. He must have missed it just as he was locking his phone. He also noticed that it had been quite a while since he texted (Y/N) and she still hadn’t answered. “Sorry,” Adrien apologized to Kagami. “I must have read it on accident. I was fine, I was at Marinette’s house during lunch.” 

“What were you guys doing?” Kagami was very blunt and straightforward. Most might take her tone as rude, but Adrien had come to know that was just the way she talked. 

“We went to her parent’s bakery with Alya, Nino, and (Y/N).” Before Adrien could explain, Kagami interjected. 

“Who is (Y/N)?” 

“She’s a new student at our school. She moved here just a few days ago, so we thought it would be nice to have a small welcome celebration.” He started to put on his fencing gear. 

“Is she your friend?” Adrien looked at Kagami, whose brown eyes were staring at him very intently. Adrien shrugged. 

“I think we’re starting to become friends.”

“I’d like to meet her. This weekend, please.” She propped her helmet on her hip and waltzed out of the locker room, leaving Adrien to stare after her. He wasn’t sure how he would get (Y/N) to meet Kagami, but he supposed he needed to figure it out.

Chapter Text

“On a scale of one to ten, how would you say your anxiety is?”

(Y/N) sighed, leaning forward to rest her chin on the heel of her hand. She stared just above the computer screen as she thought. “On a regular day,” She said, choosing her words carefully. “It’s a four. The other day was an eight.” Her therapist nodded, ducking her head to take notes offscreen.

After picking up a teary-eyed (Y/N) from a random alley in Paris, Marguerite suggested she resume her therapy sessions. Her therapist in the United States was unavailable due to the time difference, so her aunt set up an appointment with Albert’s therapist. What Albert needed a therapist for, (Y/N) was unsure. She knew very little about her cousin.

(Y/N) had wanted to argue with her aunt that she didn’t need to go back to therapy. Her previous therapist had even advised that she take a few weeks off from sessions as she got settled in Paris. “You’ll be feeling a lot of emotions once you get there,” Mr. Jason (because at this practice, the children were allowed to address their therapists by their first names) had told her. “Just keep an eye on how you’re feeling and when you’re ready, you can think about coming back to sessions.”

But (Y/N) knew a meltdown in the middle of Paris was not what her aunt defined as part of the healing process, so she had kept her mouth shut and agreed to go to the online therapy sessions. Now she met with Miss Blanchet. She had yet to form an opinion on her.

Miss Blanchet looked up from her notes and stared into the camera. “Why is a regular day a four?”

(Y/N) looked around her bedroom and leaned back into her chair, crossing her arms. “I get nervous about my surroundings. I want to be aware of what’s going around me at all times. Being around crowds or in an unfamiliar place makes me antsy.”

The sound of Miss Blanchet’s pen on paper returned. “And why is that?” (Y/N) furrowed her brows.

“Did Marguerite not tell you what happened?”

“I want you to tell me.” At (Y/N’s) silence, Miss Blanchet continued. “If you’re comfortable, of course.”

She wasn’t comfortable, but (Y/N) didn’t think she ever would be. She had to tell her therapist at some point.

“I was there when my father died.” Murder is what it was, but (Y/N) didn’t like that word. It settled uncomfortably in her mouth. “I didn’t see it. I closed my eyes, but before it happened,” She inhaled a deep breath and shut her eyes tight. “We were getting mugged, which was scary enough. My dad was trying to reason with him.” She swallowed. She could still hear him in her head. “I just um, don’t want to get mugged again. I want to be aware so it doesn’t happen again.” (Y/N) opened her eyes. It was a rough description, the abbreviated version, but it was what (Y/N) could handle at the moment.

Miss Blanchet’s scribbling again. “Could you walk me through it?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “I don’t really feel like ruining my day.” Miss Blanchet nodded, giving her a faint smile.

“What about your mother?”

“You know as much about her as I do,” (Y/N) said. Her mother was a topic that (Y/N’s) father had tended to avoid. The most that she had gotten out of him was that they had gone to school together. There were no pictures of her around the house growing up, no mentioning of what she was like or how they had met.

As (Y/N) grew up, she started to silently piece things together. Her parents hadn’t been married. It was likely that her mother hadn’t wanted a child while her father had. (Y/N) was born in Paris but as soon as she was old enough to fly, her father moved her to the United States. Perhaps it was so she wouldn’t grow up wondering if the faces she passed on the street belonged to her mother.

These were only guesses. (Y/N) had never gotten any confirmations from her dad. Her mother was his least favorite topic to discuss, so she avoided it. She noticed at a young age that whenever she mentioned her, he grew quiet and sad. And she didn’t like seeing him like that.

So (Y/N) told herself that she was alright not knowing who her mother was. If her mother hadn’t wanted a child, that was okay. (Y/N) had had her father and he had been enough. But it had still hurt, at Mother’s Day luncheons and when she stayed over at a friend’s house and their mom cooked them breakfast in the morning. She loved her dad with all of her heart, but occasionally she wondered how someone could exist without caring that they had an entire piece of them somewhere in the world.

Miss Blanchet took (Y/N’s) silence as a refusal to talk and sighed. “If that’s all you want to share today, that’s alright. I’ll talk to you again later this week, okay?”

(Y/N) nodded and said her thanks before saying goodbye. She shut her laptop and walked over to her nightstand, where her phone sat. Her alarm for the day was only a minute away from ringing, so (Y/N) turned it off and moved to the bathroom to get ready for her day.

After the events of the other day, Marguerite had insisted that (Y/N) had been thrown into too much too soon. She kept (Y/N) home for the remainder of that day and for the day after to take a break, but (Y/N) had insisted on going back to school today. She didn’t want to miss too many of her classes and squander what little friendship she had been developing with her classmates.

Alya and Adrien had checked in on her when she hadn’t returned to class after the akuma attack. She sent them quick texts in return, explaining that she had gotten a little freaked out and just needed some time to process. Marinette had messaged her to check in as well, but Marinette kept checking in. She sent (Y/N) the notes she missed and if she wasn’t in one of (Y/N’s) classes, she organized for another student to send her the notes.

(Y/N) thought Marinette was a very kind girl and really wanted to be her friend. Which was why she needed to get back to school.

The people of Paris tended to look presentable every day, which was very different from the sweatpants and sweatshirt combo (Y/N) was prone to rock on days when she felt like being lazy with her outfit. Today, she pulled on a tattered pair of jeans and one of her father’s oversized t-shirts. She tucked the front into her jeans and slid her favorite denim jacket over her shoulders. She held her shirt to her nose and inhaled. The faintest hint of her father’s cologne remained. (Y/N) picked up his bottle of cologne that she had saved when she was making arrangements to move out of her house back home. She sprayed it on her entire outfit and inhaled a deep breath of the scent. She wore it whenever she missed him. And today she really missed him.

She moved to the kitchen and picked up a chocolate croissant, eating it as she brewed herself a cup of coffee. Her jet lag was slowly starting to get better. Last night, she went to sleep at two in the morning, her earliest time yet!

(Y/N) arrived at school with fifteen minutes before class began, so she sat on the front steps and enjoyed the last few sips of coffee. She opened Instagram to catch up on all the photos she had missed and the very first one at the top of her feed was a picture of Ben with his arm wrapped around another girl. (Y/N’s) lips turned down in a frown and she locked her phone, shoving it back into her pocket.

Why did she care so much what Ben did? They weren’t official by any means. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to be official with him. She had been going through a lot of emotions before she left, that’s why she kissed him. She was sure of it.

She placed her head in her hands. So why did her heart hurt so much after looking at that photo.

“(Y/N)!” She looked up to find Marinette walking toward her. (Y/N) lifted her arm to wave.

“You’re here early,” She called to Marinette as she approached. The girl smiled brightly.

“You’re here!” She sat next to (Y/N) on the steps. “I’ve been so worried about you, y’know.”

“Thanks, but I’m perfectly fine. My aunt just freaked out since I’m new here and all.” It wasn’t totally a lie. “Thank you for sending me those notes, by the way! You’ve been a lifesaver.”

“What are friends for?” Marinette questioned. (Y/N) smiled back. “It’s probably for the best you weren’t here. Chloe was absolutely terrible yesterday; I don’t think you would’ve been able to put up with it.”

“And you did?” (Y/N) raised an eyebrow. Marinette shrugged.

“I may have made a few snide comments under my breath,” She giggled. “How’s your morning been?”

“It’s been alright,” (Y/N) said after taking a sip of her coffee. “I had therapy earlier this morning, then a chocolate croissant for breakfast. My walk was pretty nice, too, until I looked at Instagram.”

“What was wrong with Instagram?” (Y/N) was grateful Marinette had ignored the therapy comment, which had slipped freely from her mouth. (Y/N) pulled her phone out of her pocket. She didn’t want to share the big things about her life back home with her friends, but she could share the little stuff.

She showed Marinette the picture of Ben. “We’ve been best friends for forever. I kind of, sort of, kissed him before I left and now this picture makes me feel weird.”

“You kissed him?” Marinette exclaimed. “And why, exactly, aren’t you guys dating?”

“I moved an entire ocean away!” (Y/N) groaned, tossing her head up to the sky. “I already had to leave all of my friends. I was feeling super emotional and he told me he liked me the night before I left and,” She sighed. “And I don’t know. I don’t even know if I like him like that.” She turned to look at Marinette. “Do you ever feel like you can’t sort through your emotions, even though they’re your own?”

Marinette looped her arm through (Y/N’s), leaning against her. “That’s how I feel all the time.” She sniffed the air once, twice, and three times before inhaling a large whiff of (Y/N’s) collar. “You smell like a dad.”

(Y/N) grinned. “Great! That’s what I was going for!”

With her jet lag getting better, it was easier to pay attention during class. She was able to ask Nathaniel questions if she was unsure and toward the end of the period, he had started asking her questions. She still wasn’t brave enough to raise her hand and ask a question to the whole class. (Y/N) felt like it might be a few years before she was anywhere near ready for that.

After their first class of the day, Adrien waited for her at the bottom of the steps. “Glad to have you back!” (Y/N) grinned at him.

“Good to be back! Thanks for checking in on me.”

“Anytime,” He said as he held the door open for her. (Y/N) liked that about Adrien. He held the door open for everyone, not just his friends. It was a small detail, but she felt like it said a lot about him. “So,” He started as they walked to class. “I was talking with Kagami the other day and she really wants to meet you! This Friday night, if you’re available at all?”

(Y/N) looked up at him, furrowing her brows. “Kagami?”

“Oh,” Adrien said with a chuckle. “Kagami’s my…girlfriend, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“We haven’t really discussed formalities.” It was (Y/N’s) turn to laugh. “She really likes to make an effort to meet my new friends. Her mom keeps her on a pretty strict routine, so she doesn’t get time out much. Honestly, that’s why we get each other so well. My dad’s the same way.”

“He is?”

“He’s just really protective. I had to convince him to let me come to school with other kids my age.”

(Y/N) didn’t know anything about Gabriel Agreste, but she thought it strange that a father would prevent his son from being around people his own age. She nodded. “I’ll have to double check with my aunt, but I doubt it’ll be a problem with her. She tries to get her writing deadlines done on the weekends.”

“Oh! Is she writing a new book?” They took their seats next to each other in their art class. “You’ll have to tell me what it’s about.”

“Nice try, Agreste, but you’re not getting any spoilers out of me.” She mimed zipping her lips, which made Adrien smile before they had to start their lesson.

Once art was finished, (Y/N) joined Alya and Marinette outside for their break. She sat a step below them, unpacking the lunch she had made the night before. “Welcome back, new girl,” Alya said as she smiled down at (Y/N).

“You guys are gonna have to come up with a better nickname than that,” (Y/N) said with a shake of her head.

“Did you ever get a chance to read the Ladyblog?” (Y/N) nodded eagerly.

“It’s definitely a lot to sort through, but you’re a super talented reporter, Alya!” Marinette nodded in agreement.

“Any day now, she’s going to be on the news narrating Ladybug and Chat Noir’s fights.” (Y/N) opened her mouth to speak, but quickly shut it. She hadn’t told her friend about her meeting Chat Noir. If she did, she would have to provide details about their meeting, and the idea of telling others about the position he had found her in made her cheeks flame.

“Thank you, thank you,” Alya said, giving them mini bows. The two other girls laughed. “Nino and I were thinking about heading to the movies this Friday, if you guys wanted to come.”

Marinette shook her head. “I can’t, I’m going over to Luka’s for dinner.”

“Who’s Luka?” (Y/N) asked.

“Marinette’s boyfriend,” Alya nudged Marinette with her elbow. While she smiled, (Y/N) noticed how it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“We don’t really know what we are, exactly,” Marinette explained to (Y/N). “But he wants me to get dinner with his family on Friday, so I can’t go.”

“Hanging out with a boy is definitely a free pass,” Alya nodded. She turned her attention to (Y/N). “What about you? Are you down?”

“I would, but Adrien asked me to hang out on Friday.” Both Marinette and Alya inhaled a sharp breath. “He said something about wanting to introduce me to Kagami?” Marinette and Alya exchanged a look. “Okay, it’s obvious I’m missing something here, so please explain.”

“Marinette has a crush on Adrien,” Alya said quickly.

“I do not!” Marinette exclaimed, rather loudly. The other kids turned to look at their group. “I—I used to have a crush on him. Past tense. But it’s long gone.”

Alya gave (Y/N) a miniscule shake of her head. “Oh, Marinette, I’m so sorry!”

Marinette waved a hand. “There’s nothing to be sorry over. Adrien’s with Kagami and I’m with Luka. Everything’s fine.” She smiled, but the expression was tight. “I’m glad you’re meeting Kagami. She’s a really good person.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” (Y/N) declared, taking a bite out of her sandwich. “How long did you like him?”

“A very long time,” Alya answered for Marinette. “Pretty much the entire year.”

“Yeah well,” Marinette sighed. “One can only do so much pining.” She turned toward (Y/N). “He’s happy, so that’s all that matters.”

“Your happiness matters too,” (Y/N) told her. “Are you happy?” Marinette remained silent for a while, as if she was unsure of her own answer. “How about we hang out Saturday and I give you guys all the details of how it went? We can hang out at my house!” Marinette’s shoulders slumped in relief and she smiled slightly at (Y/N).

“Thanks, (Y/N).”

On Friday, (Y/N) waved goodbye to Marinette and Alya as they walked off in the directions of their homes. She remained at the bottom of the steps as she waited for Adrien to meet her. The plan, he had explained to her, was to meet Kagami at the bridge and get some ice cream. According to Adrien, it was the best ice cream in Paris, so she was eager to try it.

Adrien bounded down the steps, his blond hair bouncing with every movement. Now that she knew Adrien and his reputation a little bit better, (Y/N) noticed the way girls and boys paused to stare at him. They watched him like hawks, or perhaps worshipers, as if he were a prince and they were his subjects. (Y/N’s) stomach twisted uncomfortably. She was glad she wasn’t famous.

“How was your day?” Adrien asked.

“It didn’t change much in the two hours since I saw you,” She joked, adjusting the strap of her backpack. Adrien smiled. “Are you ready to go? I googled the bridge and saw that it’s like a twenty-minute walk from here.”

“Oh, we aren’t walking.” A silver car pulled onto the curb in front of them. It was nicer than any car she had seen, even more than her aunt’s own luxurious car. Adrien ran up to the window and leaned inside. Cautiously, (Y/N) walked up to him. “I was wondering if you could take me and a friend to the bridge to get Andre’s? We’d be meeting Kagami there.” (Y/N) heard a low grunt and Adrien pressed his hands together like a prayer. “Please? Father will be in a meeting all evening, he won’t even know!”

With another grunt, (Y/N) heard the doors unlock. With a triumphant grin, Adrien pulled open a door for her. “After you!” She slid inside, sitting right behind the large man in the drivers’ seat.  Adrien slid in beside her and (Y/N) caught the glare of Chloe as the door shut. “This is my bodyguard. He goes by Gorilla.”

“Nice to meet you! I’m (Y/N),” She said, but he only grunted in response as he pulled back onto the street. “You have a bodyguard?” (Y/N) asked in bewilderment as she slid her backpack off her shoulders and placed it between her legs. She shook her head. “I don’t even know why I’m surprised. People look at you here like you’re a celebrity.”

“Well…” Adrien drew out the word and (Y/N) laughed.

“You know what I mean!”

“Yeah, I do. He’s protected me from getting trampled countless times.”

“Maybe we should get you one of those giant inflatable bubbles. The kind that’s like a giant hamster ball?” Adrien laughed.

“I think my father would love that idea.”

The ride to the bridge was much faster than their walk would have been, which (Y/N) was grateful for. The heat was starting to pick up as summer approached and she knew she would have been a horrible, sweaty mess once they reached their destination.

Gorilla pulled to a stop and Adrien pushed the door open, shouting a quick, “Thanks! We’ll be back in an hour!” as he and (Y/N) left the vehicle.

“He doesn’t have to give me a ride home,” (Y/N) told him as she and Adrien walked to the bridge.

“Your apartment is all the way across town! Of course we’re giving you a ride home.”

“You know where I live?” (Y/N) furrowed her brows to appear angry and laughed as he started to sputter. “I’m just messing with you. My aunt doesn’t exactly live low profile.”

“I was about to say! I’m not stalking you, I promise.”

“I hope not. I’m an incredibly boring person to stalk. I lay in bed on my phone for like, three hours at night before falling asleep.”

“You know, if you put your phone away before bed—” (Y/N) waved a hand.

“I don’t want to hear any of your logic.” Adrien laughed as they stepped onto the bridge. Just a few paces away stood a girl that (Y/N) presumed to be Kagami. She had black hair and teardrop-shaped brown eyes. Kagami’s outfit of a white blazer and plaid skirt made (Y/N) feel horribly underdressed in her jeans and t-shirt.

Kagami walked up to them, just a hint of a smile playing at her lips as she looked up at Adrien. “Hello, Adrien,” She turned to (Y/N) and extended her hand. “Kagami Tsurugi.”

“(Y/N) (L/N), nice to meet you!” Kagami tilted her head to the side.

“Marguerite Estrelle’s niece?” Adrien bit his lip to hold in a laugh. (Y/N) smiled at Kagami and nodded.

“That’s me!”

“I have heard she is a great writer, but my mother doesn’t let me read her books. She thinks fiction isn’t of merit.” (Y/N) wasn’t sure if Kagami was insulting her aunt or stating an opinion.

“Well, I haven’t read any of her books, so I’m kind of in the same boat as you.” Adrien raised his eyebrows.

“You haven’t read any of your aunt’s books?”

“Honestly, before I got here, I didn’t even know my aunt was famous for writing.” Eager to turn the conversation, (Y/N) rubbed her hands together. “Where’s this ice cream man? I have a massive sweet tooth.”

Adrien led them further down the bridge to Andre’s ice cream cart. Eager couples stood in a long line that nearly reached the opposite end of the bridge. The group of three took their place at the end of the line. “I’ve never seen so many people so excited for ice cream,” (Y/N) said as she stood on her toes to look at how far away they actually were. She could barely see the ice cream man from their position.

“Andre is really popular among couples in Paris,” Adrien explained.

“He makes a blend of flavors for couples. There’s a rumor that his ice cream brings them together.” Kagami finished his explanation. (Y/N) hummed. She thought it was odd that Adrien wanted to bring her here, of all places. Was it a sort of subliminal message that he was taken? (Y/N) hoped that she hadn’t given him the impression that she liked him. She barely knew him and she certainly wasn’t the kind of person who tried to worm her way into relationships.

“How long have you guys been together?” (Y/N) asked. Kagami grabbed Adrien’s hand and looked up at him, but the boy didn’t seem to have an answer.

“A month,” Kagami responded simply. (Y/N) smiled.

“That’s great!” The line moved, just slightly.

“Have you been enjoying school?” Kagami’s gaze was piercing, but (Y/N) believed that was just the way she was.

“Uh, yeah! I missed a day and a half this week, but everyone has been really nice so far. If this were a school back home, the new kid wouldn’t have friends for at least a week.”

“Really?” Adrien asked in astonishment. (Y/N) nodded.

“A lot of the kids have known each other since grade school. It’s hard to break in a group once it’s already formed. Which is why I’m so grateful to you all for being so welcoming!” She turned to Kagami. “Adrien planned a trip to Marinette’s parents’ bakery with her and Alya and Nino to welcome me! It was really nice.”

“She was also practically falling asleep in our art class,” Adrien chuckled. “(Y/N) needed the sugar as a pick me up.”

“This whole jet lag thing has been killing me,” She explained to Kagami. “I’m nearly over it. I went to bed at midnight last night.”

“Midnight?” Kagami exclaimed. “I’m in bed promptly at ten.” (Y/N) shook her head.

“I wish I could get to bed that early.”

“You can,” Kagami said. “It just takes discipline.” (Y/N) smiled awkwardly.

“I’m just not a very disciplined person, I suppose.” The line moved once more, but the trio was still far away from their destination. (Y/N) checked her phone to see the time, but instead found texts from Alya, Marinette, and Ben.

ALYA: How’s it goin?

MARINETTE: Is there anything I can bring over to your house tomorrow??

BEN: Hey! Haven’t heard from you in a while

(Y/N) frowned and placed her phone back into her pocket. When she turned back, Adrien had his eyebrow raised at her. “Everything okay?”

She nodded, perhaps a bit too eagerly. “I’m a little upset with one of my friends from home at the moment and I just got a message from them.” She waved her hand. “No biggie!”

“Perhaps we could help?” Kagami asked. (Y/N) looked between her and Adrien and both seemed expectant for information. (Y/N) scratched the back of her neck.

“Um, sure, I guess! His name is Ben and he told me he liked me the night before I left. I kissed him, but when he tries to put in effort with me, I don’t want to talk to him. But then he posted a picture with another girl and it made me just a little bit angry.” She pinched her fingers together closely before sighing. “I don’t really know what to do about it, if I’m being honest.”

“Maybe he’s trying to make you jealous?” Adrien guessed. Both (Y/N) and Kagami raised their eyebrows.

“Why would he do that?” Kagami questioned. Adrien shrugged.

“If he’s not really getting your attention, maybe he was trying to find a way to…get…your attention? I don’t know, Nino’s really a lot better about these things. I can ask him if you want?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “I appreciate it, but no thanks. I don’t even know if I want to put the effort in, you know?”

“How do you not know if you want to put the effort in?” Kagami asked. “Either you like him or you don’t.”

“I think it’s more complicated than that,” Adrien said and Kagami turned to look up at him.

“I don’t think it is. You like me and I like you. We’re together. If one of us didn’t like each other, we wouldn’t be together. It’s simple.” She turned back toward (Y/N). “If you’re not sure, the chances are you don’t like him.”

(Y/N) swallowed. “Um,” She began, but she didn’t get the opportunity to defend herself. The bridge began to shake and tilt to one side, sending (Y/N) and the rest of the patrons on the bridge into the railing.

The patrons who were quick enough to right their footing started scrambling to the other end of the bridge. (Y/N) wasn’t sure what was happening, too dazed from the pain of being knocked into the bridge railing. Once she regained her focus, she noticed a large shadow had blocked out the sun. (Y/N) looked forward and saw water, then up and up until her head could no longer move back, and she stared directly into a giant wave of river water.

Someone grabbed her hand and yanked her to the side, forcing her to run. (Y/N) looked up to see Kagami pulling her onto the land at the other end of the bridge. She could see Adrien’s blond head just in front of Kagami, leading her as well. They landed on the sidewalk as the wave overtook the bridge, knocking anyone who had been left on into the water. (Y/N) hissed as she stood, her knees and hands scraped from the asphalt.

She looked around and found no trace of her friend that had been there a few seconds ago. “Where’s Adrien?” She asked Kagami. Her brown eyes widened.

“He was right beside me,” Her eyes turned toward the water and (Y/N) clasped a hand over her mouth. “He must have gotten swept away.”

(Y/N) could feel the dread starting to encompass her, drifting across her body like a chilled breeze. She was scared, because this had to be another akuma attack, but this time her friend was one of the people that had been affected. He could be in the river right now. Was he a strong swimmer? (Y/N) didn’t know.

She shook her head. She couldn’t think like this right now. Kagami seemed to be in shock at losing Adrien and at least one of them had to be strong. She took Kagami’s hand in hers and squeezed. “Adrien’s going to be okay,” She told her, even though (Y/N) wasn’t sure if she believed the words herself. “He probably got lost in the crowd. Besides, isn’t this when Ladybug and Chat Noir come in and save the day?” Kagami set her jaw and nodded, and (Y/N) smiled.

Chapter Text

Marinette transformed back into her civilian self, reaching into her purse to give Tikki a macaron. The kwami took it gratefully, resting in Marinette’s hand with a happy sigh. She placed her back inside her purse, wondering just how multiple transformations a week was affecting her.

The akuma this time had been Stormy Weather. It was a relatively easy fight, but as Marinette walked, she felt her muscles stiffen. While Miraculous holders healed much faster than the regular human being, three battles in a week was certainly taking its toll on her. All she really wanted to do was go home and rest, but she couldn’t.

Before the attack, she had been on her way to Luka’s houseboat. When he had come to her house earlier in the week, he had invited her to dinner with his family. He had told her to be there at five (even though Marinette distinctly remembered the time being set for five-thirty, he probably accounted for her being late), and that she didn’t need to bring anything, but she still would have felt horrible about showing up somewhere empty-handed. She had brought a few macarons from her parents’ bakery before heading out the door.

Despite her muddled feelings for Luka, Marinette still wanted to impress his family. She had met them as Marinette, Juleka’s friend, but not Marinette, Luka’s girlfriend. She had borrowed a red dress from Alya, one that had rounded capped sleeves and a full skirt. She was nervous for tonight, but excited. She felt like things between her and Luka would only move up from now on.

That is, until she had been notified of the akuma attack. It was nearly five-fifteen when she was nearing Luka’s houseboat, but she had seen the aftermaths of the giant wave and Stormy Weather flying off toward the Eiffel Tower. Defeating her had been simple, but time consuming. When Marinette transformed back to herself, it was half past six and she had quite a few missed texts from Luka.

So Marinette ran back toward the houseboat, relieved to find Luka sitting on its deck, strumming his guitar. “Luka!” She called out. He looked up from his guitar, frowned at her, and then turned back to it. Marinette slowed to a stop just on the edge of the river. “I’m sorry I’m late,” She called down to him. “There was an akuma attack and I got stuck in the crowd.”

“The akuma attack was on the opposite side of town from you,” Luka sighed with a shake of his head. Marinette bit down on her lip.

“I decided to take the scenic route,” She offered. It was a horrible lie but she hoped he believed it. She couldn’t share the truth with him. “It’s such a nice day, perfect spring weather, really—”

“Marinette,” Luka interrupted, staring up at her. “Do you even like me?”

Marinette stiffened. “W-What do you mean?”

“Because you don’t act like it. If you don’t want to be with me, you have to let me know.”

“Luka—”

“I try to be patient, Marinette. I know you have a lot going on and I don’t ask you about it because I want to be there for you, regardless of whether you’re ready to tell me. But…but you’re not there for me, when I need you, and relationships are supposed to be both parties putting in effort.”

Marinette gripped tightly to the skirt of her dress. Her palms prickled with sweat. If she had a defense, none would come to her mind. She doubted she would be able to speak anyway. Her mouth was incredibly dry.

“You never act like you’re happy to see me. You don’t ask me how I’m doing or how my day has been. I ask you to come to dinner with my family and you show up over an hour late. I can tell you’re constantly lying to me and I don’t know why, Marinette, but the only reason I can think of is because you don’t like me. It doesn’t even feel like you care about me.”

“That’s not true,” Marinette insisted, but it was only a whisper. She felt like she was being scolded. If only she could tell him. He would understand why she had to lie, why she was always not where she needed to be.

“I want this to work, Marinette. But I don’t think it’s going to if only one of us is trying.” She felt the tears on her cheeks before she even realized that she was crying. She wiped at them furiously, but they kept coming, hot tears that dripped down her cheeks and to her neck.

“I’m sorry,” She choked out through her sobs, still wiping at her eyes. Through teary eyes, she could see Luka set his guitar down and start walking toward her. Instead of staying to hear more of how she had failed him, she took off in the opposite direction.

Her muscles screamed at the movement, but she continued to push them. She cried as she ran all the way back home, past her parents in the living room and to her bedroom. She collapsed onto her bed, sobbing into her pillow.

Luka had been so patient and kind with her, she hadn’t realized that she wasn’t giving him the same courtesies. As much as she hated hearing his words, she knew they were true. She had been distracted as Ladybug, focused on the ever-increasing battle with Hawkmoth. She had been distracted with not trying to fall apart from exhaustion as she lugged herself to school, her entire body tired from sleepless nights of saving the city and staying up late to complete assignments that she couldn’t get to during the day. She had been distracted with trying to figure out how being the Guardian of the Miraculous worked and decoding all of Master Fu’s notes. All of these things had distracted her from figuring out how she really felt about him.

It wasn’t fair. Marinette was doing the best she could. She was trying to balance her life as Ladybug with her social and academic lives. She saved Paris every time the city needed it. She was a good student. She tried hard to be a good friend. But she felt so terrible for failing Luka and it wasn’t fair. How could she be expected to deal with all of these things and be good at each one too? When would she get a chance to rest? When would she feel happy again?

Happy. She hadn’t felt that way in a long time and she was only just now realizing it. Marinette rolled onto her back and stared up at her ceiling. She sniffled, blinking the tears away from her eyes. There were moments of happiness, sure, but when was the last time she had felt relaxed? When she had been able to move throughout a day without stress or complete exhaustion?

She wanted to talk to someone, but the only person who could offer her advice had his memory erased. Marinette sat up in her bed and held her knees to her chest. “Wayzz?” She croaked.

The green kwami appeared, his eyes full of concern. “Is everything alright, Master Marinette?” She gave him a small smile at the nickname but shook her head.

“I don’t know how to balance it all,” She told the kwami. “My life as Marinette and my life as Ladybug, Guardian of the Miraculous.” She wiped at her eyes. “I let someone down who is really important to me and now they don’t think I care about them and I just want to know what I should do.” She laughed, a little bitterly. “You’re the one that was closest to Master Fu. What would he say?”

“Well,” Wayzz said. “I don’t know exactly what Master Fu would tell you, but I know he wasn’t the protector of Paris as well as the Guardian of the Miraculous.” Marinette’s mouth fell open, just slightly. “It’s your decision, Marinette. Master Fu trusted the Miraculous to you. He believes in you, as do I and the rest of the kwamis.”

As if summoned, a sleepy Tikki emerged from Marinette’s purse and settled in the crook of Marinette’s neck. “I trust you, Marinette,” Tikki said in her sweet, high pitched voice.

Marinette swallowed. She had a lot to think about and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to spend the rest of the night doing so. She grabbed her phone and called the last person she had contacted. A few hours ago, she had sent (Y/N) a text asking if there was anything she needed to bring for their hangout on Saturday. She felt like talking to (Y/N) rather than anyone else. (Y/N) was new, completely unbiased. Perhaps she could provide Marinette with a new perspective.

“Hello?” (Y/N’s) accented French came across the speaker and Marinette smiled.

“Hi, what are you doing right now?”

“I’m just finishing ice cream with Adrien.” Marinette felt her stomach tighten in an odd pang of jealousy that she quickly dismissed. She heard (Y/N) excuse herself. “Is everything alright? You sound upset?”

“Oh, um,” Marinette pressed the heel of her palm into her eye to prevent more tears from falling. “It’s fine, it can wait until tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“I don’t believe you,” (Y/N) told her. Marinette laughed. “Do you want to come over to my house tonight? We could have a sleepover!”

It was Marinette’s turn to ask, “Are you sure?”

“Considering I’ve only been in Paris around five days, I don’t really have a busy schedule just yet. Come over! I’ll text you my address, okay?”

“You’re positive I’m not ruining ice cream with Adrien?”

“There’s nothing to ruin, Marinette, it’s just ice cream,” (Y/N) laughed. “I should be home in the next twenty minutes or so.”

“Okay,” Marinette said. “(Y/N)?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.” Marinette could practically see the smile on the other end of the line.

“Don’t mention it.”

(Y/N’s) apartment building was fancy, likely just as fancy as the Agreste mansion. And just like the Agreste mansion, Marinette felt oddly out of place in the lobby. She felt like she should have dressed nicer than her usual black blazer and pink jeans to come to this sleepover. She half expected (Y/N) to descend the steps wearing a robe made of peacock feathers.

The elevator to her right dinged and out came (Y/N), wearing shorts, a sweatshirt, and house slippers, and Marinette breathed a sigh of relief at her casualness. (Y/N) smiled brightly at her friend, grabbing her by the hand and tugging her back over to the elevators. “I hope you like popcorn!”

“I love popcorn,” Marinette said. “I brought some leftover desserts from my parents’ bakery. Everything is baked fresh daily, so we either eat what’s leftover or donate it to the food bank.”

“That’s so kind of you guys!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “So much food goes to waste in America. It’s atrocious.” The elevator dinged and the doors parted into (Y/N’s) apartment, but to Marinette, it looked more like a museum.

“You live here?” Marinette exclaimed. She ran over to the window. “I can see all of Paris!”

“It’s my aunt’s place, that’s why everything’s so…fancy,” (Y/N) said as she went to the kitchen. “I don’t know about you, but I can crush a whole bag of popcorn by myself, so I made another one for you if that’s alright?”

“Totally fine,” Marinette said as (Y/N) poured the contents of each popcorn bag into different bowls. “Thanks for having me over tonight. I really didn’t want to be alone.”

“You’re welcome anytime,” (Y/N) assured her, sliding the popcorn bowl across the counter to her. “I was worried you were in trouble or something, you sounded so upset.”

“Not physical trouble, anyway.” (Y/N) pursed her lips in thought as she stared at Marinette.

“How about we go to the living room? We can watch any movie you like!”

They settled into the plush couch, nestling beneath blankets with only their arms free to grab from the popcorn bowls. (Y/N’s) apartment was much quieter than Marinette’s home. They were high enough that the city down below couldn’t be heard, but there wasn’t even noise coming from inside the apartment. It was like everything ran silently.

“Where’s your aunt?” Marinette questioned. (Y/N) shrugged as she turned on the TV.

“I honestly have no idea, but I asked her if you could come over and she said it was fine.”

“Are you guys close?” (Y/N) shook her head, shoveling popcorn into her mouth.

“I only met her in person a month ago. Otherwise, I’ve only seen her in like, facetime calls.”

“So what made you want to drop everything and live with her?” (Y/N) turned to Marinette and smiled, like she had a secret.

“Don’t think that you can butter me up with questions and make me forget why you’re over here in the first place. What’s going on with you? Why were you so upset earlier?”

Marinette sighed. She knew they would have to talk about it sooner or later, and she supposed that sooner was better. “I…think Luka and I broke up.”

“Oh,” (Y/N’s) voice was soft. “Why? What happened?”

“I was supposed to go to his house for dinner with his family tonight, but I got caught up in the akuma attack and showed up an hour and a half late.” It wasn’t a complete lie. She had gotten caught up in the akuma attack.

(Y/N) frowned. “That doesn’t seem like a good reason for him to break up with you.”

“It’s not just that,” Marinette explained. “It’s other stuff, too. He said I made him feel like I don’t care about him. And the worst part is that I completely understand why he feels that way. I haven’t been fair to him at all throughout our relationship, but I don’t think it’s entirely my fault.” The tears were threatening to come back, so she paused her story. “I know I’m late all the time and that sometimes I can’t always be honest with him. But it’s for a good reason, I swear. I care about him. I just wish I could show him that in a way that’s easy for me.” She sighed. “I know it probably doesn’t make sense.”

“I think it does,” (Y/N) said, resting her hand atop Marinette’s. “I, um, I get what it’s like, having a hard time being completely honest to people.” She gave Marinette a half smile. “I don’t know what you’re going through, Marinette, and I get the feeling that if you can’t tell Luka, you probably can’t tell me either.” Marinette opened her mouth to elaborate, but (Y/N) held up a hand to pause her. “And that’s okay. Not everyone is entitled to share every detail about themselves.” (Y/N) paused. “Do you really want to work things out with Luka?”

“I think so.”

“Maybe take a day or so to get your thoughts in order. If there are any ways you can think of how you can make it up to him, write them down. And if you need me to, I’ll help you draft a killer “please forgive me” text.” (Y/N’s) smile was bright and cheerful and it made Marinette feel the same.

“Thank you, (Y/N). You’ve been a huge help.” (Y/N) batted a hand.

“Now, what movie do you want to watch?”

Chapter Text

(Y/N) arrived to class on Monday feeling surprisingly well-rested. It seemed as though her sleep schedule was finally back to a normal pace. Well, normal for her. She had always been a bit of a night owl. She paused at Marinette and Alya’s desks to say hi on the way to her own.

“How are you guys?” She directed the question at the both of them, but her eyes were trained on Marinette. The last time she had seen her was Saturday, when the three of them had hung out at (Y/N’s) apartment. Marinette hadn’t mentioned anything of Luka that day or in their texts yesterday. (Y/N) suspected that it was a touchy subject for Marinette, but she wondered if even Alya knew what was happening. Marinette didn’t seem like the kind of person to keep very many secrets from her best friend.

“Doing great!” Marinette replied, and Alya had a similar answer.

“You’re looking pretty chipper this morning,” Alya noted.

“I think my sleep schedule is back on track,” (Y/N) gestured to her small travel cup. “I only had one cup of coffee this morning and I feel fine!” Alya laughed.

“For you, that seems like a feat.”

“Oh look, Sabrina,” Chloe’s voice drawled behind her. “The dark bags under the American’s eyes have gotten a little better.” (Y/N) had never thought being American would sound like such an insult, but when it was coming out of Chloe’s mouth, it certainly stung. (Y/N) bit the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from snapping at the girl. In her experience, people like Chloe thrived off attention. If she didn’t give it to her, eventually she would fade into the background.

“Ignore her,” Marinette said, further validating (Y/N’s) position. “She’s just jealous that people are more interested in you than her.”

“I heard that, Dupain-Cheng,” Chloe snapped. (Y/N) smiled gratefully at her friend. “You know what they say,” Chloe continued. “Losers stick together.” With a roll of her eyes, (Y/N) traveled up to her seat beside Nathaniel.

“Don’t listen to anything she says,” A quiet voice said. (Y/N) looked around, confused as to who had spoken. At her side, Nathaniel coughed, and (Y/N) nearly gasped. He hadn’t said a word to her since she had taken a seat beside him. “She’s just mean.” Nathaniel was speaking to her, but he wasn’t looking at her. (Y/N) nodded.

“I’ve dealt with my fair share of mean girls,” She said with a half-smile. “Really, all the comments she makes are things I’ve heard since middle school.”

Nathaniel’s eyes widened as he stared down at his notebook. “Really?” (Y/N) hummed.

“Oh, definitely. American middle schools are ruthless.” (Y/N) had had a good group of friends back home, but naturally there were a handful of kids that made it their life’s mission to make other people miserable. She remembered being invited to a middle school sleepover only to wake up to her hair being chopped raggedly to her shoulders. (Y/N) waited to cry until she was back home in her own room. It was moments like that where she wished her own mother was there. Her father hadn’t quite understood just how devastating it was for someone to cut your hair without you knowing.

(Y/N) shuddered as she pulled out her notes for the day. Compared to that, she could handle a few snide comments made by Chloe Bourgeois.

(Y/N) was disappointed to find Chloe looming near Adrien at the bottom of the classroom steps. She had really hoped to avoid her for the rest of the day, but she wasn’t about to leave Adrien by himself. Chloe was giggling over something that Adrien had said and ceased as soon as (Y/N) approached. Her blue eyes glared viciously at (Y/N), as if she were intruding on some private moment between the two of them.

“Ready for art?” (Y/N) asked Adrien, adjusting the strap of her backpack. Adrien turned to her and smiled, giving a small nod.

The last time she had seen Adrien was Friday, at their less than satisfactory ice cream plans. She had waited with Kagami, growing more concerned about his safety with every passing minute, until he finally ran up to them. “Sorry!” He said as he caught his breath. “I got swept up in the crowd. Are you guys okay?”

(Y/N) had kept her mouth shut as she stared across the River Seine. She had felt so angry at him, and perhaps she had no right to be, but she had been so worried! Her texts to him had gone unanswered, despite service in the area being completely fine. She had kept her mouth shut the entire time she was with Kagami, worried that the fearful images of Adrien’s fate that bounced around in her mind would come spilling out of her mouth.

Kagami had kissed Adrien on the cheek, saying that she was glad he was alright, but it was time for her to leave. She and (Y/N) had exchanged pleasant “Nice to meet yous,” before the girl departed from the two of them.

Adrien had stared at (Y/N) curiously. “Are you upset with me?”

“How could you tell?” (Y/N’s) voice came out much harsher than anticipated, and even she winced. Adrien rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Well, I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, but your face sort of tells what you’re thinking.”

Perhaps it was an underlying instinct, but (Y/N) switched to English. It was probably better that way, so no passerby could understand just what she was yelling at Adrien Agreste. “You can’t just disappear and not tell anyone you’re okay! I was worried sick about you!”

Adrien smiled down at her and (Y/N) hated it. It felt so patronizing, as if he knew something that she didn’t. “I’m sorry for worrying you,” He had said, his own mouth tripping over the slippery English sounds. “Akuma attacks happen so often now that I honestly didn’t think about checking my phone.”

At the sound of his voice, her anger fizzled. His accent came in ridiculously thick and she had to catch herself before she laughed at him. “Is that what I sound like, speaking French?” She asked, speaking in the said language.

Adrien himself had laughed. “My English accent isn't always perfect. You’re probably a lot better at speaking French than I am at English.” (Y/N) shook her head in disbelief. “Really, (Y/N), I’m sorry for making you worry. But I was fine!” He spread out his arms. “See? In one piece.”

As part of his apology, he offered to take her to an ice cream parlor close to her aunt’s place. It wasn’t nearly as good as Andre’s, he told her, but it was a close second. They sat there for a while, exchanging anecdotes from their childhood. It was there that she received Marinette’s phone call.

Something about their time together on Friday had made (Y/N) feel a lot closer to Adrien than before. She had been incredibly worried about him, which made her realize that maybe Adrien was one of her closest friends here.

“Since we’re all classmates,” Chloe interjected, bringing (Y/N) back to the present. “I think we should all walk to class together. Wouldn’t that be fun, Adrikins?” She looped her arm through his.

“Uh, sure, Chloe,” He said, and as soon as she had his consent, she pulled him in the direction of the door, practically leaving (Y/N) in the dust. He craned his neck to look back at her, his green eyes just semi-frantic. (Y/N) stifled a giggle and followed them out of the classroom.

Despite the hallways being fairly wide, Chloe was doing her best to exclude (Y/N) from walking beside Adrien, so it was either walk behind the two of them or get shoved into a railing. So, as she walked in their rear, she wondered if she really wanted to spend an entire class with Chloe fawning at Adrien’s side. On one hand, she wasn’t sure she could make the entire period without threatening to punch Chloe in the face. On the other hand, she felt just a bit guilty about leaving Adrien alone with Chloe.

She decided that Adrien was kind and would surely forgive her for this minor indiscretion. Instead of rounding the corner with them, (Y/N) traveled down the stairs. She was nearly home-free when Adrien called down to her. “Where are you going?”

“The nurse!” She called back, then feigned a cough. “I think I’m coming down with something!” Adrien narrowed his eyes at her. “Let me know if there’s anything I miss!” She turned on her heel and started walking to the nurse’s office when Adrien fell into step beside her.

“What kind of friend would I be,” He said, “If I let my ill friend travel to the nurse by herself? What if you collapse on the way there?”

(Y/N) grinned, nudging him in the ribs with her elbow. “My hero,” She faux-swooned. “I bet Chloe was super thrilled that you left her to walk the rest of the hallway to art by herself.”

Adrien shrugged. “I’m chivalrous to a fault, what can I say?”

They arrived at the nurse’s office to find the nurse filing her nails at her desk. Mrs. Beauchamp was a short and stout woman, with rounded, rosy cheeks and curly red hair sitting atop her head. She jumped to her feet as soon as the two of them entered, flashing (Y/N) a quizzical look and Adrien a smile.

“Mr. Agreste!” She crooned, rounding her desk. “What brings you to my office? Are you feeling alright? Would you like me to call your father’s assistant?”

“It’s actually not me who is feeling unwell,” Adrien said, his voice sounding grave. (Y/N) thought at some point, this modeling career of his would eventually have to branch out into acting, because he was doing a number on Mrs. Beauchamp. “My poor friend (Y/N) started to feel sick as we were walking to class. I escorted her here because I was worried she wouldn’t make it on her own.”

(Y/N) put on her best ‘I feel horrible’ expression, trying to look as pitiful as possible. Mrs. Beauchamp clucked her tongue, pressing the back of her hand to (Y/N’s) forehead. “Well, you don’t feel warm…” The nurse looked to Adrien for an explanation.

“She’s American!” Adrien exclaimed. “Not used to the French air, I think. Delicate people, those Americans.” Mrs. Beauchamp nodded in agreement, flittering over to her desk. (Y/N) flashed Adrien a quick glare and he responded with a simple shrug.

“Alright, Miss (L/N), why don’t you lay down in the back until you start feeling better?”

“Thank you,” (Y/N) grumbled, gripping onto her stomach as if that was what ailed her. She waddled her way into the back room, where a bed sat against the dark wall.

“Um, Mrs. Beauchamp?” She heard Adrien ask as she sat on the bed. “I was wondering if I could ask a favor of you?”

“Anything, dear,” Mrs. Beauchamp swooned, and (Y/N) had to physically hold in her snort. Adrien truly had these people wrapped around his finger and they happily obliged him to whatever he asked.

“I was wondering if I might be able to stay with (Y/N) to make sure she’s okay? Our families are very close and I promised her aunt that I’d look after her. I’d just hate for anything to happen to her and I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.” (Y/N’s) mouth dropped open in disbelief. He was unbelievable! Mooching off of her hard-earned fake illness!

“Oh, well normally I’m not supposed to…” She heard Mrs. Beauchamp sigh. “But alright, I’ll excuse you both from class, just this once. It’s so sweet of you to look after her, dear. You’re truly an angel.”

“Thank you very much, Mrs. Beauchamp!” It was then that Adrien strode into the back room and sat at the chair on the opposite wall of the bed.

“I can’t believe you,” (Y/N) whispered, so Nurse Beauchamp wouldn’t hear them talking. “You have these people under your thumb.”

Adrien shook his head. “They just like me because of my father,” He whispered back. “And you didn’t seem to be very against it when I was helping you get in here in the first place.”

“I’m not saying I’m against it,” (Y/N) rolled on her side to face him. “I just think it’s interesting. I didn’t peg you as the kind of person who uses his connections for personal gain.”

Adrien smiled. “I’m definitely not, but this was a special circumstance.” (Y/N) smiled at his kindness, but also at the thought of making Chloe’s blood absolutely boil. She didn’t consider Adrien to be a prize, but what she felt was certainly similar to winning.

“Did my aunt actually ask you to look after me?” Adrien shook his head.

“I might have stretched the truth just a bit there. Why? Had you expected her to?” (Y/N) shrugged.

“I don’t really know. I don’t know much about her, honestly, so when I heard you say it I was surprised.”

“Have you enjoyed staying with her so far?”

“When she’s there, yes. She’s pretty busy. If she’s not traveling to meetings for her latest book, she’s locked in her room writing her latest book.” Adrien sighed.

“I know how that feels.” He leaned his blond head against the wall.

“Is your father always busy?” Adrien nodded. “Well, I suppose running a fashion empire has its drawbacks.”

“Yeah, I guess…” (Y/N) sensed there was more that Adrien wanted to say, but she didn’t want to press him if it was a sensitive subject.

“My aunt told me your father went to school with her. That they’ve been friends since they were kids.” That was, until Gabriel Agreste shut himself off from the world after the disappearance of his wife. She had tried her best to keep her curiosity at bay, to respect Adrien’s privacy, but her own curiosity had won out in the end. Emilie Agreste had disappeared over a year ago, leaving no trace of her whereabouts. The police had presumed her dead.

“My father’s assistant, Nathalie, told me something similar. She said he attended school with your aunt and your father.”

There was something unspoken that was left at the end of Adrien’s sentence. An invitation, to (Y/N), to share what she kept to herself. Adrien’s face was free of pity, so it was unlikely that he knew what fate had befallen her father. He looked at her rather expectantly, as if letting her know that she was free to share if she wanted to.

(Y/N) wondered if she should. She could share her secret with Adrien, tell him all of the gritty details that plagued her. She knew it would feel like a relief, to share this pain with someone other than her aunt. Adrien would understand. He knew what it felt like, to lose someone that he cared so much about.

But if (Y/N) shared what happened to her father with Adrien, she would have to share what had come of herself after. The paranoia, the anxiety, the constant fear that at any moment something would remind her of that fateful night just a month ago when everything that was dear to her was ripped from her hands. How she had stood there, silent, with her hands covering her eyes as the gunshot went off.

And that was what made her decide against sharing this part of herself with Adrien, at least for now. As much as she believed that he was a good friend, she couldn’t expose that piece of her just yet. She and Adrien were close, but she wasn’t sure just yet if she could trust him to that extent.

“Yes,” She said. “My aunt told me something along those lines.” They maintained eye contact for a few more seconds before Adrien looked away, clearing his throat.

“We never did get to finish that conversation we were having on the bridge on Friday.” (Y/N) raised an eyebrow. “The one about your friend from back home? What was his name?”

“Oh,” (Y/N) sighed. “Ben. Well, I don’t think there’s anything more to share.”

“Have you heard from him since?” (Y/N) nodded. In fact, after seeing what had happened in Paris at the River Seine, Ben had texted her frantically, asking if she was okay and if she had been near the river that day. She had been talking to Marinette on Friday night when he sent those messages, so she answered yes to both and told him that she’d explain later. It was now Monday and she had provided him with no explanation. “I’m sorry if Kagami was a bit too straightforward about that. She can be very blunt.”

“It didn’t upset me. I’m sure it’s just a lot harder for me to discern my feelings about someone than it is for her. I mean, she seemed pretty sure about you.” Adrien gave her a quick, tight smile.

“What’s so hard to discern about Ben?”

“I’ve known him all my life, you know? And we kissed before I left, but I’m not sure how much of that was me actually wanting to or me being sad about leaving him behind.” She rubbed at her cheeks. “I don’t know. He’s a good friend and I’m a whole ocean away. And I’m a terrible texter.”

“You text me just fine,” Adrien countered. (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

“We’re in the same time zone.” She shrugged. “I just don’t want to make a decision about it and then regret it.”

“I get that feeling.”

(Y/N) turned her head to look at Adrien once more. “We’re pretty similar, huh, Agreste?” Adrien grinned.

“I’d say I’m arguably better at French than you.”

They stayed in the nurse’s office until the lunch period. (Y/N) thanked Mrs. Beauchamp for her kindness, reiterating how much it would mean to both Marguerite Estrelle and Gabriel Agreste that she had helped her and Adrien out. The nurse’s face had flushed a shade of deep red and she smiled at the two of them, calling them both ‘dear’ as they left.

(Y/N) made her way over to the courtyard, where she could see Alya and Marinette waiting for her. Adrien, however, was moving toward the door that led outside. (Y/N) tugged on the sleeve of his shirt to get his attention. “Where are you going?”

“Oh, I’ve got a shoot in Montreal tomorrow. I have a plane to catch!” (Y/N’s) eyes widened.

“You’re going to Montreal? Just like, casually? In the middle of the day?” Adrien laughed at her surprise.

“I’ll only be gone til Wednesday. Maybe by the time I get back, you and Chloe will be painting pictures of each other in art.” He grinned before walking out of the school.

“I wouldn’t hold your breath!” (Y/N) called to him. Shaking her head, she made her way over to Alya and Marinette, but was stopped by a familiar blur of yellow.

“I don’t know who you think you are,” Chloe hissed, “Or why you’re hanging around Adrien so much. He’s only hanging out with you because he feels sorry for you.”

“I highly doubt that,” (Y/N) said, darting her eyes over to Marinette and Alya. They both moved to stand, but (Y/N) gave a miniscule shake of her head. She could handle Chloe on her own. “Adrien and I are just friends. I would’ve been friends with you, too, if you hadn’t decided to make fun of me on the first day.”

“You and Adrien are not friends.”

“Look, if you’ve got a crush on him or something, it seems like your issue should be with Kagami and not with me. Like I said, we’re only friends.”

“I don’t think Adrien would want to be friends with an orphan like you.”

(Y/N’s) entire body went rigid. She narrowed her eyes at Chloe. “What did you just say to me?”

“You heard me. I had my daddy’s business partners look into you as soon as you came into this school. First abandoned by your mom and then your dad. You had to come to Paris because no one else wanted you. It’s only a wonder why your dad waited so long to get rid of you.”

Now, (Y/N) wasn’t normally an aggressive person, but she had had a rough few weeks. She didn’t like when people tried to bully her, nor did she like when said bullies insinuated that it was her father’s choice to leave her all alone. So, (Y/N) slapped Chloe Bourgeois, right across the cheek. The sound was loud enough to carry across the entire courtyard, silencing all of the teenagers inside of it.

(Y/N) regretted it instantly, but she had already dug herself a grave. What was wrong with adding a tombstone? “Don’t ever speak about my father again.” Her voice was low, so only she and Chloe could hear.

It was then that Chloe Bourgeois started to wail and (Y/N) recognized that she had royally screwed herself.

Chapter Text

“And then she hit me!” Chloe wailed to Principal Damocles, cradling an ice pack to her cheek. The two girls were seated into his office. After the incident in the courtyard, they were escorted there by Madame Bustier. The disappointed look that her teacher had given her made (Y/N’s) skin crawl. Both of their parents were called and a formal investigation into exactly what had transpired had started once they arrived.

Chloe’s father, the Mayor of Paris, stood behind his daughter. He was the kind of man that looked down his nose at everyone in the room. No wonder Chloe thought she was better than everyone else.

“Mr. Damocles, I demand that this girl be expelled from this institution at once!” The Mayor demanded and Chloe whimpered in agreement from her chair.

“Now wait, Mayor Bourgeois,” (Y/N’s) aunt said from her position behind her. (Y/N) felt guilty over the whole situation, but perhaps the most for disrupting her aunt’s workday. She was a very busy woman, who undoubtedly needed all the time she could to finish her projects. “I believe that we should hear both sides of the story, don’t you?”

Principal Damocles turned to (Y/N). “Miss (L/N), is Miss Bourgeois’ retelling true?”

“She left out the part where she called me an orphan,” (Y/N) said, glaring at Chloe. “I’ll admit that I hit her, and I was wrong for that. But it wasn’t completely undeserved.” (Y/N) swallowed. Her own tears started forming at the backs of her eyes. She did not want to give Chloe the satisfaction of making her cry, but she knew she was incredibly close to it. “She said that Mayor Bourgeois’ associates had looked me up. She said that I came to Paris because no one else wanted me and that it was a wonder that my dad didn’t give me up years ago.”  

Marguerite gasped behind her, kneeling at (Y/N’s) side. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind (Y/N’s) ear, something that (Y/N) recognized as a show of her aunt’s affection. “She said that to you?” (Y/N) nodded.

“Well,” The Mayor sputtered. “Obviously, this is only a bit of cattish, school-girl behavior.”

“I don’t think so, Mayor Bourgeois,” Marguerite’s voice was low and dangerous, much like (Y/N’s) had been in the courtyard with Chloe. “Your daughter knows nothing of the pain my niece has faced over these past weeks, nor how cruel her words were.” She faced Principal Damocles. “Would you like to explain the situation to the Bourgeoises, or should I? I recommend that you do it, sir, because I fear I may lose my composure.”

Principal Damocles gaped from behind his desk. Chloe looked up at her father. “Daddy, what do they mean?”

“Christ,” (Y/N) said, lifting her head to face Chloe. Tears were streaming down her face now. “My dad’s dead, Chloe. He died a month ago, right in front of me, and that’s why I’m in Paris.” She inhaled a deep breath. “I’m sorry for slapping you. That was uncalled for. But my dad was my favorite person in the whole world, and I couldn’t stand you talking about him like that.”

Both Chloe and the Mayor’s mouths hung open in surprise. (Y/N) turned to Principal Damocles. “I don’t want to be expelled. I-I’m working through it. I’m going to therapy every week. I’ll take a suspension, Principal Damocles, but please don’t make me start over again.”

“Our school has a zero-tolerance policy for violence,” Principal Damocles said with a shake of his head.

“Your tolerance for bullying seems rather high.” Marguerite turned to Mayor Bourgeois. “Tell me, Mayor, how do you think my associates at the papers and the local news stations will feel when I tell them about what’s happened here today? I can call Nadia Chamack right now and ask for her opinion if you’d like.” (Y/N) knew her aunt was just trying to help, but that situation seemed far worse than possible expulsion. Going to newspapers and television stations to share her story about the passing of her father made her feel physically ill. She wished she could go to the nurse now. She felt like she might need it for real this time.

“Marguerite, there’s no need for such rash behavior,” The Mayor assured her. His position on the whole matter was obviously beginning to turn now that his public image was on the line. “I think a suspension is a suitable punishment for the young girl. It’s obvious she’s been through a lot and took out her feelings on my poor Chloe.” (Y/N) had to clamp her mouth shut to prevent her from saying a few choice words at the Mayor. He wrapped his arms around his daughter, who only stared blankly ahead.

“A suspension for the rest of the week, then,” Principal Damocles said with a nod. (Y/N) found it a bit funny how she had yet to attend a full week of classes at this school.

“And what about Chloe? No punishment for her for bullying my niece?” (Y/N) gathered her things and shook her head.

“It’s fine, I’ll take the suspension, no further questions.” She turned to Chloe. “I just have to ask one thing of you, Chloe.” The blonde girl looked up at her, her own blue eyes surprisingly watery. Surely that couldn’t be sympathy coming from her?

“Please, don’t mention my father or what happened to him to anyone else in our school. Not Sabrina, not Adrien, no one.” She looked around the room. “I wanted to tell my friends once I’m ready. No one knows, yet, except for you. And I’d like to keep it that way. If anyone asks, just tell them that you called me ugly and I snapped, or something.” (Y/N) shrugged.

“Okay,” Chloe agreed, nodding. “I promise, (Y/N), I won’t tell anyone.” (Y/N) nodded, her lips pressed into a tight, thin line. She supposed that was as close to an apology as she would get from her.

“Sorry for slapping you, again,” (Y/N) said weakly, before walking out of the principal’s office with Marguerite. (Y/N) was only half surprised to see Alya and Marinette waiting at the bottom of the steps.

“What’s the damage?” Alya asked.

“Suspended for the rest of the week,” (Y/N) turned to her aunt. “These are my friends, Alya and Marinette. This is my Aunt Marguerite.”

Marguerite smiled tightly, obviously still wound up from the meeting. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you both.” The two girls returned the sentiment.

“I’ll send you copies of my notes,” Marinette told (Y/N). “And if you need me to come over to explain anything to you, I will!”

“Same here!” Alya leaned closer to (Y/N). “So, why’d you hit her?”

(Y/N) let out a heavy sigh. “She said I was ugly.” She could tell by their expressions that they didn’t believe her, but (Y/N) was too emotionally exhausted to care too much about solidifying her lie. “I’ll see you guys later.”

(Y/N) wished the car ride home had been silent, but it was unfortunately full of Marguerite’s ranting and ravings over the unfair advantage Mayor Bourgeois, and in turn, Chloe, had over everyone else. “He’s corrupt!” Marguerite insisted. “I said it when he was first elected, and I’ll say it again. I never liked that man, never ever. I didn’t vote for him in either election, you know.”

“The Agrestes seem to get along well with them,” (Y/N) said quietly. Marguerite waved her hand.

“It’s just money. People who are wealthy like that tend to stay together.” She rolled her eyes. “It was Emilie’s sister who introduced them, you know. Amelie Graham de Vanily. I always hated her. She was a sneak, and no one ever believed me! No moral backbone, whatsoever.”

“If you and Dad were friends with Gabriel Agreste, wouldn’t that mean that you’re also one of those wealthy people?”

This stopped Marguerite’s rant rather quickly. She chewed at her bottom lip, obviously thinking about something. “People like the Graham de Vanily’s and the Bourgeois’ come from a long line of money,” She explained. “Gabriel Agreste built his fashion empire from scratch, much like how I did with my books. Now, did Gabriel get corrupted? It’s quite possible, but I haven’t spoken to him in quite some time, so I can’t be sure…” Her aunt drifted into yet another tirade that included more fancy last names that (Y/N) couldn’t discern. (Y/N) simply rested her head against the cool glass of the passenger window until they arrived back home.

(Y/N) said nothing to Marguerite once they entered the apartment. She kicked off her shoes and darted back to the bedroom, where she crawled beneath the covers of her bed. They fully encompassed her in darkness and (Y/N) felt like a child again. This is how she had soothed herself when she was little and upset.

It was hard, hiding how much and how fervently she missed her father. How much she missed her home. Everything about this place was strange and it seemed that just as (Y/N) was finally getting comfortable, something came along to ruin it.

She wanted to book a flight back to the United States and never return. Maybe one of her friends’ parents would allow her to live at their house. There had to be some sort of official document that Marguerite could sign. Wasn’t it called conservatorship?

In this moment, she hated Paris. She didn’t care if it was part of her heritage, if her family had grown up here. This wasn’t her home and she wanted to leave.

Her phone buzzed repeatedly in her pocket, indicating a phone call. (Y/N) pulled it out and saw Ben’s name at the top of the screen. And as much as she was confused about him, she really needed a piece of home right now.

“Hello?” She answered.

“Hey! Is everything alright? You don’t sound too great.”

“Honestly, no.”

“Are you sick?” (Y/N) sniffled.

“No, I’m crying.” Ben waited for her explanation. “I got suspended from school today.”

“You? Suspended? I’m actually in shock. What for?”

“I slapped the Mayor’s daughter.”

“Woah! Paris has changed you, huh? What’s next, hot-wiring cars?” He was trying to make her smile and it was working.

“She um, made some comments about my dad.” Ben suddenly turned serious.

“That’s pretty horrible of her.”

“She was just trying to be mean. She didn’t know that he was…y’know.” Feeling suffocated, (Y/N) resurfaced from under the blankets. “No one here knows. I haven’t told anyone.”

“Not anyone?”

“I told her, in the principal’s office, but I swore her to secrecy. I left home being the girl whose dad died, I didn’t want to come here and be the same thing.” Ben hummed. “I really hate it here. Just when I think things are starting to look up, something happens that erases all of my progress.”

“You know, there’s not some timeline to healing. It’s lots of loops instead of a straight line. It’ll take a while before things get good again, but they will.”

(Y/N) laughed. “You sound like my therapist.”

“I’m doing my psychology project on grief.” That statement tugged at her heart, just for a moment, because it was likely that she was the reason for his topic of choice.

“Does any of your research say that slapping people is completely normal?”

“I wouldn’t say normal, but bouts of anger are to be expected. No one blames you for the way you’re responding, (Y/N).” She inhaled a deep breath, trying to clear her nostrils. “Gross. Go blow your nose.”

(Y/N) laughed. “Thanks for calling, Ben. I needed this.”

“Well, you know where to find me.”

They ended their phone call and (Y/N) checked her phone to see that she had a few text messages that she had missed.

ADRIEN: Suspended???

ADRIEN: I haven’t even been gone for a day!

ADRIEN: I heard you slapped Chloe. Is that true?

(Y/N) inhaled a deep breath. Adrien and Chloe were friends, had been since childhood. He knew how terrible she could be, but (Y/N) still feared that this would change her opinion of her. She didn’t want to lose him as a friend.

(Y/N): yes, it’s true

Adrien responded almost immediately.

ADRIEN: Why?

(Y/N): she said some really hurtful things to me today

(Y/N): and i regret it so much, but i snapped

(Y/N): if you ask anyone else, they’re gonna say that it’s because she called me ugly

(Y/N): but it’s a lot more than that. i wish i could explain more, but i’m just not ready.

She waited anxiously for his next message. Maybe he was already on the plane and had turned his phone off.

ADRIEN: OK. I’ll be here, whenever you are ready.

ADRIEN: Maybe you should enroll in some boxing classes, so that anger can be directed in a more productive route.

(Y/N) laughed, her eyes brimming with tears. They were okay. She wasn’t, not really, and likely wouldn’t be for a while. But for right now, she still had her friends. And that was enough.

(Y/N): i’ve always thought i’d be a pretty good fencer

ADRIEN: You? Near pointy objects? Absolutely not.

Chapter Text

Adrien returned from Montreal in the early hours of the Parisian morning, just a few before school was supposed to start. Adrien had learned a long time ago not to expect to get a day off after a rather grueling time difference. His father lived under the notion that if Adrien wanted to be part of this company, he needed to learn how to deal with the with the unfortunate aspects of it. Like only getting a total of three hours of sleep.

He had tried to sleep on the plane, but he was unable. With everything that was going on, it felt like his mind was going a mile a minute. First, there was Ladybug. It seemed that she always at the forefront of his mind, no matter how hard he tried to press her away. Their battle against Stormy Weather the other day near the Seine had gone relatively well. She acted normally, for the most part, as if they were a team once more. Adrien chalked her attitude with Chat Noir a few days prior to just being a bad day. But Adrien had gotten the inkling that something was just the slightest bit off. She had rushed away from the battle, casting a quick goodbye over her shoulder. Recently, he wasn’t sure what to make of her.

Beneath Ladybug in his thoughts was Kagami, which made him feel guilty. She was his girlfriend, he should be thinking about her more, right? He also wasn’t sure about that. Kagami was his first girlfriend ever and while he didn’t want to mess anything up with her, he was never quite sure what to do. He had thought a lot about what Kagami had told (Y/N) on the bridge. That if you weren’t sure about liking someone, then the chances were that you didn’t like them. The idea had settled uncomfortably with Adrien, because while he knew he liked and cared about Kagami, was he as sure about her as she was about him? And didn’t that seem horrible? Not being sure about your own girlfriend?

Then there was (Y/N). He truly enjoyed the new girl. He wanted to be better friends with her, and he thought that they were on a good path. But when Nino had told him that she had hit Chloe, Adrien became unsettled. He didn’t condone physical violence, but (Y/N) didn’t seem like the kind of person to just hit someone out of nowhere. Adrien had to keep reminding himself that at the end of the day, he didn’t really know (Y/N). They had only known each other for a little over a week, and while he felt like they had a lot in common, he knew that there was a something that she was holding back from him. From everyone.

Adrien sighed as he got ready for school. He supposed he couldn’t judge anyone else for having secrets, when he carried a pretty heavy one himself. He just hoped (Y/N’s) secret wasn’t disastrous.

Adrien slid into his seat beside Nino when he arrived to Madame Bustier’s class. He had gotten to school early, the reason being the travel cup of coffee that Nino slid toward him. Nathalie hadn’t allowed him to have coffee with breakfast. “Too much caffeine is horrible for your health,” She had told him, in that serious way of hers that he had come to find endearing. But Adrien wasn’t sure he would make it through the day without one, so he had texted Nino and asked him to bring him a cup on his way to school.

“I owe you one,” Adrien said as he sipped. Nino shrugged. “What did I miss?”

“Besides the new girl’s suspension?” Nino’s eyebrow quirked up. “Not much. It’s all anyone can talk about.”

“I meant what did I miss in school.”

“Oh,” Nino’s face flushed, perhaps just a bit embarrassed. “Um, we have a project coming up in a few weeks, but Madame Bustier only barely mentioned it.”

Adrien hummed. He had resolved that he wouldn’t ask about what had happened with (Y/N) until he had gotten the chance to talk to her in person. Adrien wasn’t big on gossip, having enough about himself to deal with, but he was also horribly curious, and it was likely he wouldn’t see (Y/N) again until next week. “What, uh, exactly happened?”

Nino’s eyes brightened, eager to talk about it with someone. “I didn’t see it, but Alya did. She said it was wild.” He turned toward his girlfriend’s seat, inviting her to join their conversation. Adrien turned back as well, taking note of how Marinette was hunched over her textbook.

“It happened right after you left,” Alya said, looking to Adrien. “Chloe stopped (Y/N) before she was about to walk over to Marinette and I. No one really heard the conversation, but,” She leaned in close now, whispering lowly. “Everyone heard the slap. Madame Bustier intervened soon after that.”

“Chloe won’t even talk about it,” Nino said. “(Y/N) must have really done a number on her. I didn’t expect her to be so…intimidating.”

Adrien frowned. He didn’t think (Y/N) was intimidating, either. He looked to Alya. “Have you talked to (Y/N) about it?”

Alya nodded. “Marinette and I saw her leaving the principal’s office with her aunt. She said that Chloe called her ugly.” She shrugged. “Which I don’t believe. She doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would get upset over something like that.”

“You don’t believe her?”

“I mean, I think it’s pretty obvious that (Y/N’s) hiding something. And I definitely think that whatever it is, it has to do with what happened with her and Chloe.” Alya leaned back in her seat. “No worries, though, I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“Don’t you think we should respect (Y/N’s) privacy?” Marinette piped up, finally looking up from her work. “If she did lie about what happened, I think there’s a reason. I don’t think she’s the kind of person to act out for no good reason.”

Alya raised an eyebrow at Marinette. “I never said she was. I just—”

“Have you talked to her, Marinette?” Adrien interjected. Her blue eyes locked with his and her face flushed a shade of bright red. She opened her mouth to speak, but then shut it as Madame Bustier entered the classroom, signaling the start of their day.

From the sleepiness and the questions that floated through his mind, Adrien found it hard to focus on the lesson.

As the bell rang, Adrien packed his bag rather slowly. Normally, he did it to make time for (Y/N) to make his way to him after class, but today he waited for Marinette. She had hopped up from her desk as soon as the bell sounded, striding up to Madame Bustier’s desk. Adrien’s ears strained as he tried to hear their conversation over the clamor of other students.

“Good morning, Madame Bustier,” He heard Marinette say. She offered the teacher a paper. “This is (Y/N’s) homework from last night. I picked it up from her to turn in this morning.”

Madame Bustier sighed. “That’s very kind of you, Marinette, but as I told you yesterday, the terms of suspension are that the student turn in all their missed work once they return.”

“Well, (Y/N’s) home is on the way to school from mine.” Adrien thought that odd. He knew where both Marinette and Marguerite Estrelle lived, and they certainly weren’t close to each other. “I figured that I could help her out throughout the week. I know it’s hard to keep track of assignments regularly, and it must be especially hard to do so when you don’t have classes to keep you on track. Plus, settling into a new country must be so difficult for her and I know she’s been trying really hard to keep up with assignments in French and—”

“Okay, okay, Marinette,” Madame Bustier said with a smile. “If you’re up for it, you can deliver Miss (L/N’s) homework to me at the end of every class.”

“Thank you, Madame Bustier! I’m certain (Y/N) will be so appreciative of you once I tell her.”

“Of course, Marinette.” The teacher paused, before saying quietly, “Tell (Y/N) I look forward to having her back in class, will you?” Adrien latched onto those last few words. If something had really gone horribly wrong, he wouldn’t think Madame Bustier would say something like that.

Marinette nodded before walking out of the classroom. Adrien called out her name, jogging to keep up with her. She waited for him in the hallway, her eyebrows raised expectantly and her eyes wide, like a deer’s.

“I don’t mean to pry,” Adrien said. “But I overheard your conversation with Madame Bustier. I think it’s really kind of you to help (Y/N) like this, Marinette.”

Her face turned bright red once again. “Oh,” She said with a slight smile. “Well, thanks, but it’s the least I can do.”

“Is she um…is she doing okay? With all of this?” Marinette pursed her lips.

“She was really upset about it, at first. She looked so sad, walking out of Principal Damocles’ office.” Marinette sighed. “I don’t have any idea what really happened, but whatever it was, it was a lot more serious than Chloe calling her ugly. I went to her house yesterday to bring her our homework and she looked like she was about to cry when she saw me. I think she was really worried about losing the friends she had made.”

“I know I was a little worried, when I heard what she did.” Marinette nodded.

“I think…I think that for whatever reason she did it, she feels really sorry about it. She asked me a lot if Chloe was okay.” She shrugged. “I like to think I’m a pretty good judge of character. And whatever (Y/N’s) reasoning, I believe that she wouldn’t have done something like that unless it really upset her. I know other people might not, but I’m gonna give her a second chance.”

Adrien smiled at her. “That’s very nice of you, Marinette. You’re a really good person.”

“Oh! U-Um, thanks, Adrien! Are you too! I mean, you are too!” She laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’ve gotta get going to class.”

“Wait! Do you think you could give me (Y/N’s) homework for tonight? I could drop it off to her.”

“Sure thing!” Marinette dug inside her backpack and pulled out their assignment. “Do you know where she lives? I could text you her address, if you want?”

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thank you, Marinette.”

After school and after his fencing lesson, Adrien hopped into Gorilla’s silver car, leaning forward to show him his phone. “Do you think we could go here before we head home?” Gorilla grunted in protest, gesturing to the clock. “We both know Father’s not actually going to be at dinner, so it doesn’t really matter if I’m late. Please? I promised I would drop off my friend’s homework to her.”

Gorilla grunted once more, conceding. He pushed a few buttons at the front and (Y/N’s) address was successfully put into the GPS. Adrien grinned. “Thank you!”

Gorilla parked in front of (Y/N’s) apartment complex, which gleamed brightly in the afternoon sun. Adrien hopped out of the car, walking inside and to the front desk. The receptionist took a phone call rather unhappily. As soon as his eyes set on Adrien, he slammed the phone down, giving the young model a bright smile. “Young Mr. Agreste! To what do I owe the pleasure? Are you scouting out our lovely rooftop garden for your next photoshoot? I could have it ready in just a few moments, if you’d allow me!”

“That’s alright,” Adrien said, smiling brightly at him. “I’m actually here to drop something off for a friend. Could you buzz Miss (L/N) for me?” The receptionist stared blankly at him. “Marguerite Estrelle’s niece?”

“Ah!” The receptionist’s eyes gleamed with recognition. “Yes, of course, one moment.” With a few clicks of his keyboard, he nodded to Adrien. “Young Miss Estrelle will be down in a moment. Would you care for a refreshment?”

Adrien shook his head. “That’s alright, I’ll just wait over here.” He took a seat in the elegant seating area. Truly, the apartment complex looked more like a hotel. Adrien had come here with his father and Nathalie a few times. (His father may have been visiting through a tablet screen, but considering how little Adrien saw of him, he still counted it). Most of Paris’ elite lived here, or at the very least, had one of their numerous houses in the building.

He kept looking up when he heard the elevator ding, but by the third time, (Y/N) was finally there. Adrien stood, but she hadn’t spotted him yet. She walked over to the receptionist, who directed her in Adrien’s direction. She turned to face him and smiled and Adrien didn’t even have to think about smiling back.

Her hair was up and she wore a baggy light grey zip-up hoodie, along with a pair of red flannel pajama shorts and house slippers. Adrien couldn’t help but think how much she stood out. Traditionally in Paris, everyone tried to look their best before setting foot out of their houses. Appearances were everything in this city, but as (Y/N) walked over to him, he thought she looked like a breath of fresh air.

“What are you doing here?” She questioned, the smile still on her face. “Not that I’m upset, or anything! I just wasn’t expecting you.”

Adrien reached into his bag and pulled out her homework. “I asked Marinette if I could deliver it to you today. I hope that’s alright.” (Y/N) gingerly took the piece of paper and nodded.

“Yeah, of course! Thank you, I hope you didn’t go out of your way.” She shifted on her feet as if she were anxious.

“No! Not at all. I wanted to see how you were doing, considering.” He watched as (Y/N’s) face fell just slightly.

“I’m okay,” She said with a nod. “I feel really badly about it. I apologized and then I sent some flowers over to her house, but I guess that doesn’t really make up for everything.”

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Adrien said quickly. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad.”

“No, I know,” (Y/N) avoided his gaze, staring down at the homework. “It was kind of you to bring this to me. I tried telling Marinette that she didn’t need to keep bringing me the homework, but she insisted.”

“She’s surprisingly stubborn,” He laughed. “But she’s a good friend.”

“That’s for sure.” He could tell that by mentioning what happened, he had dampened (Y/N’s) mood, and he felt bad for it. His intentions by coming here had been to check in and show her that he was still her friend, but he felt like he was failing.

“The receptionist didn’t recognize you when I told him your name,” Adrien said. “I had to say you were Marguerite’s niece.” (Y/N) sighed, rolling her eyes.

“I think he refuses to learn my name. It’s such a pain, getting packages delivered here.” There was a sort of awkward silence that passed between them, one that neither one of them was sure how to overcome. “Would you like to come up?” (Y/N) asked.

“Some other time,” Adrien said. “Gorilla’s waiting for me.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you again, for bringing me the homework. Have a good rest of your evening, Adrien.” She gave him a small wave before moving to turn on her heel.

“(Y/N)?” She paused, looking at him. “I, um, I don’t want you to think—I just wanted to say that, I don’t—I don’t feel differently toward you, because of what happened. It must’ve been something that really upset you, and I’m not going to hold it against you.”

(Y/N) smiled at him. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.” She gave him another small wave before walking back to the elevator. Adrien made his way out of the apartment complex.

“She could slap me any day,” Plagg sighed dreamily, poking out of Adrien’s shirt pocket. He rolled his eyes.

“Shut up, Plagg.”

Chapter Text

Marinette balanced her phone between her cheek and her shoulder as she hurried around her room. If she didn’t have it cleaned in an hour, there was no way she would be able to spend the night at Alya’s, and Marinette desperately needed a night where she could have fun with her best friend and not worry about the things that constantly kept her up at night. “Have you tried carrying the one?” Marinette said through the speaker.

She heard (Y/N) sigh on the other end. “I wasn’t even good at math in English, I doubt I’ll be much good at it in French.” She heard papers rustling. “Screw it. That’s a Sunday (Y/N) problem, not a Friday (Y/N) problem. What time are you going over to Alya’s?”

“If I get my room cleaned in time, hopefully in the next twenty minutes.” Marinette felt a twinge of guilt for telling (Y/N) about her plans tonight. Alya had invited Marinette over, not (Y/N), and Marinette worried that (Y/N) felt left out, or worse, that Alya and Marinette didn’t like her!

But if (Y/N) was upset, she gave no indication. Her voice sounded as cheerful as ever as she told Marinette her plans for the night. “I think I’m going to see a movie by myself. Have you ever gone to the theater alone?”

“I can’t say that I have,” Marinette said as she haphazardly folded her laundry.

“I’m going to sound like such a dork saying this, but sometimes I prefer doing things by myself. I’m going to try to watch one in French without English subtitles.” The two girls giggled.

“As a quiz, you’ll have to tell me what it’s about.”

“That seems cruel, I think. Hey, what are you doing tomorrow?”

“I think I’m going to try to talk to Luka, but I think we both know I’ll try to put that off for as long as possible.” Marinette had yet to apologize Luka for what had happened last weekend. She feared that he would ignore her or tell her about more of the things she felt guilty about. She knew she was being irrational. Luka had always been kind to her and if he wasn’t after she apologized, that wasn’t her fault.

At least, that was the pep talk (Y/N) gave her every time they talked about it.

“Maybe we should get an ear piece so I can recite a script to you.” Marinette snorted.

“No thanks, been there, done that.”

“Are you serious? You’ve got to tell me that story.”

“Maybe I’ll tell it tomorrow.” Marinette shoved her dirty clothes into her closet with her foot. It just barely shut. “Did you want to hang out?”

“Yeah! My aunt is hosting some fancy dinner tomorrow and she wants me to have a nice dress and I donated all of mine before I moved.”

“I can take you somewhere! Maybe we could get lunch?”

“Sounds perfect! Thanks so much, Marinette, you’re a blessing. Lunch is on me, as payback for you being so kind to me this week.” Marinette gasped.

“Absolutely not! (Y/N)—!”

“Alright have a great time with Alya! See you for lunch tomorrow! I’ll meet you outside your house!” (Y/N) said this all rather quickly before hanging up. Marinette smiled to herself. (Y/N) was certainly something else. Tossing her phone on her desk, she flitted around her room, trying her best to tidy everything up.

The kwamis flew around behind her, trying to help in their own way. They were still rather unfamiliar with Marinette’s room, but Tikki helped guide them around. “That’s not where the pencils go!” She told Trixx rather haughtily. Trixx stuck out his tongue at Tikki before flying around the room, Tikki hot on his tail. What was once a disagreement turned into a game of tag with all of the kwamis. They flew around each other and Marinette at rapid speed. Marinette smiled to herself, walking around her room to continue putting things away.

“You’re it!” Xuppu said, tapping Marinette on the head. Marinette turned back to the kwamis, who all scattered.

“That’s not fair!” Marinette laughed. “You all can fly!”

A knock sounded at the door in her floor. “Marinette?” Her mother called. “Is your room ready?” Each of the kwamis except Tikki returned to the Miraculous Box, having been trained on exactly what to do in this situation. As troublesome as they could be at times, Marinette was really starting to enjoy their presence.

“Just a second!” Marinette called to her mom. She took the Miraculous Box in her hands and set it in her chest, placing a blanket over it. A part of her felt guilty for hiding the kwamis away like this, but she wasn’t quite sure how to explain the box to her parents just yet. “Okay,” She said as she shut the lid. “You can come in now!”

Sabine entered the room, looking around to inspect Marinette’s cleaning job. It was certainly rushed, but Marinette felt it was up to par with her mother’s expectations. Sabine hummed in satisfaction but cast a glance up at Marinette’s unmade bed.

“What’s the point of making it if I’m just going to unmake it?” Marinette questioned, giving her mom an awkward smile. Sabine giggled, wrapping one arm around Marinette’s shoulders.

“Alright, you did a pretty good job. Have fun at Alya’s!” Marinette breathed a sigh of relief and hugged her mother before grabbing her bag and darting down the steps. She stopped in the bakery to hug her father goodbye, which resulted in getting a bunch of flour on her shirt. She ran out the door, dusting off her front as she walked down the street.

Alya’s house wasn’t that far away, ten minutes at most. Alya’s parents had gone out for a date night and asked her to watch her two younger siblings. Alya then asked for Marinette’s help. Marinette agreed, but truly hoped that the twins wouldn’t get upset and turn into the Sapotis again. She wasn’t sure if she could handle another round of that.

This week had been relatively peaceful. There hadn’t been a single akuma attack, which should have made Marinette relax, but instead it put her on edge. For weeks, Hawkmoth had continuously generated akuma attacks. Last week there had been three, and for two weeks before that, it had been two akumas per week. Was his Miraculous drained? Was Hawkmoth himself out of commission somehow?

Marinette tried to dismiss the thoughts as she walked up the steps to Alya’s house and rang her doorbell. She heard a lot of clamoring and shouting behind the door before Alya flung it open, breathing heavily. A plastic crown sat lopsided in her hair, while a pink tutu was tied around her waist. Marinette raised an eyebrow.

“We’re playing tea party,” Alya explained, pulling Marinette inside. Ella, one of the twins, stood at the top of the steps and pointed a pretend wand at Marinette.

“Marinette of Dupain-Cheng!” Ella cheered. “Welcome to our kingdom!”

“I don’t want Marinette in our kingdom!” Etta pouted, poking around the corner. Marinette smiled as she walked up the stairs.

“What if I told you I come in peace?”

“I think Marinette should be allowed in our kingdom,” Alya said from behind her. “As queen, I command it!”

“You are not queen!” Etta giggled. “I’m queen!”

“No, I’m queen!” Ella insisted.

“You said five minutes ago that I was queen!” Alya shook her head, taking off her crown. “How about you both be queen and play tea party in your room while Marinette and I order dinner?”

“I want pizza!” Ella said.

“No, Chinese food!” Etta countered. Alya rolled her eyes as the two twins bickered their way back to their bedroom.

“What are you feeling?” Alya took a seat on her couch and Marinette sat beside her.

“I could go for some pizza,” Marinette said, her stomach grumbling at the thought.

They ate pizza, watched a movie, and played with the twins until well into the night. By nine, the twins were yawning so much that Alya finally put them to bed. Marinette felt her own exhaustion weighing down on her. Despite having to sleep on the couch, Marinette knew she would absolutely pass out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Alya returned from saying goodnight to her younger sisters and flopped onto the couch with a yawn, jostling Marinette. The girl groaned in protest, shooting Alya a half-hearted glare. “Thanks for helping me out tonight,” Alya said. Marinette nodded, rubbing at her eyes.

“Anytime,” She said quietly.

“What are you doing tomorrow? Do you wanna grab lunch with Nino and I?”

“Sorry, I can’t. I already told (Y/N) I’d get lunch with her.” Alya hummed, staring up at the ceiling. “You’re thinking about something. What is it?” Alya smiled.

“You know how I get. Once I’ve set my mind on something, I have to get to the bottom of it. I just don’t understand why she’d just show up to live with an aunt that she barely knows.”

Marinette shrugged. “I’m sure there’s a reason for everything.”

“You’re so trusting, Marinette,” Alya sighed. “I think (Y/N’s) cool, it’s just weird, you know? Things just don’t add up and it’s bugging me.” Marinette hummed. “Like, we both don’t really believe that what happened between her and Chloe was actually because Chloe called her ugly. Chloe’s said a lot worse than that. But it must have been pretty serious if even she won’t talk about it and you know how she loves to brag. Plus, (Y/N) doesn’t have any social media, which is like, super strange, especially for someone our age. And have you noticed how she hasn’t mentioned a single thing about her mom or dad?”

“Maybe she misses them,” Marinette offered.

“Maybe. I just don’t want her to become another Lila situation.” Marinette understood Alya’s concerns. Lila was insufferable and there were things about (Y/N) that were strange. But she had been in Paris for barely two weeks. Marinette wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt.

Marinette turned on the TV and it turned directly to a news station, which covered an akuma attack that was happening across town. Frozer was back and it looked like he had succeeded in covering nearly all of the buildings in ice. Marinette sat up quickly, suddenly feeling wide awake. She changed the channel to something different as Alya rubbed sleepily at her eyes. “You know, Alya, I actually forgot my toothbrush at home! So I’ll uh, just run right back and get that!”

“Are you sure? It’s pretty late,” Alya said, but Marinette nodded eagerly.

“I’ll be so quick! You know me, crazy about dental hygiene!” Before Alya could question her, Marinette ran down the stairs and outside, making sure the coast was clear before opening her purse. Tikki flew out. “Looks like our break from Hawkmoth is over.” She tossed an ice macaron into the air, which the kwami happily caught in her mouth. “Stalac-Tikki, spots on!”

Marinette used her yo-yo to swing her closer to Frozer and landed on the ice, swinging her hips to the side to stop herself. The roads had been frozen, knocking cars to the side. Marinette heard a crackling noise and looked up to see the ice creeping up the sides of the building. Those stuck inside looked down at her from their windows, obviously beginning to shiver.

“Bundle yourselves up!” Marinette called to them. “Things will be back to normal in no time!”

“Sounding pretty confident there, Milady,” Chat Noir said as he landed beside her. Marinette shrugged.

“We’ve taken him once before, we can take him again.” She and Chat Noir skated further into the city, gaining speed as they went. The ice curled into loops, and Marinette thanked the Miraculous for her increased agility, or else she would have been falling all over the place. They followed the ice path on the chance that it would lead them to Frozer.

As they skated, Marinette noticed that some of the civilians had been turned into ice as they ran away. Chat Noir gulped. “I guess that’s his new power,” He said quietly. The people had become ice sculptures, completely frozen in whatever was their last movement. Some were frozen while running, others’ faces were contorted in pain, as if it had hurt when the ice touched them. This sent a shiver up Marinette’s spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

They encountered Frozer as they rounded the corner. He cackled as his ice crawled up the buildings of the street. “Soon, all of Paris will be my domain!”

“Not if we have anything to do about it,” Marinette called to him as she and Chat Noir skated to a stop. Frozer turned, narrowing his unsettling eyes at them. He smirked.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir,” He called. “How nice of you to join me! I was just thinking about how nice you both would look as parts of my ice sculpture collection.” Frozer spun around quickly, and darts of ice shot from the whirl that he became. Marinette dodged them, as did Chat Noir, and wherever the darts landed instantly turned to ice.

“How are we supposed to get close to him?” Chat Noir called to her. Marinette wasn’t sure quite yet. Frozer had stopped spinning and was now searching for them both behind the mountains of ice he had created.

“Chat Noir! Ladybug! I know you’re out there!” Marinette peered around the block of ice she was hiding behind and squeaked as she narrowly avoided a dart of ice. She used her yo-yo to pull herself upwards just as Frozer came around to where she had been hiding. She landed wobbly on the rooftops, losing her balance on the skates that were part of her suit. Sitting up quickly, it felt like slow motion as she watched the door to the movie theater open and (Y/N) walk out, her head down as she sipped at her drink and scrolled through her phone.

Marinette’s entire body tightened. There was no way she could make it to (Y/N) without getting hit by Frozer. “Chat!” She shouted, pointing at (Y/N). She watched as her friend looked up, brows strung together in confusion. Chat Noir was there in a matter of seconds, lifting (Y/N) into his arms and skating back the way they came. All that was left in her wake was her soda, which clattered to the ground.

Marinette swung herself through the skyline, watching as Frozer chased Chat and (Y/N) further into the city. She breathed a sigh of relief as Chat ducked into an alley and Frozer skated past. Using his staff, he lifted himself and the girl onto the rooftops, where Marinette reunited with them.

(Y/N’s) eyes were wide as Chat Noir set her on the ground. She glanced from him to Marinette, then back to him. “Okay,” Was all she said. She inhaled a deep breath, held it, then exhaled. She repeated this a few times before Marinette asked if she was okay. “Yes,” She said, holding a finger up. “I’m alright, I’m just doing my breathing exercises.”

“Breathing exercises?” Chat questioned.

“Well, it’s either that or I might start crying and that would be absolutely humiliating.” She exhaled one last deep breath and stretched out her fingers. “Okay, I think I’m good for now.” She turned to Marinette. “What’s going on?”

“Frozer’s back,” Marinette explained. (Y/N) looked at her quizzically. “Right, you weren’t here the last time he was.”

“How did you know that?” Chat nudged her with his elbow.

“Everyone knows who Marguerite Estrelle’s niece is!” (Y/N) narrowed her eyes up at him.

“He’s a figure skating coach who was akumatized a few months back. He can make ice with his skates and now it seems like he can turn people into ice.”

“Oh.” (Y/N) tapped her two index fingers together. “That seems terrifying.” Marinette could tell that (Y/N) still hadn’t gotten used to the akumitizations that occasionally occurred in the city. “So, what do we do?”

“We,” Chat Noir said, gesturing to both her and Ladybug. “Don’t do anything. “We,” He gestured to himself and Ladybug. “Are going to save the day while you stay hidden. As pretty of an ice sculpture as you’d make, I think I like you better just the way you are.”

(Y/N) blinked at him, obviously unimpressed, and Marinette giggled. “I think what Chat means to say is that we need you to stay in a safe location so we can do our job effectively.” Chat Noir nodded.

“I love saving damsels, but it does really take away from the day job.”

“I wasn’t a damsel,” (Y/N) insisted. “I just had my phone off in the movie theater! I had no idea any of this was going on.”

“Right, do you have any friends we should go back for?” Marinette asked. (Y/N) shook her head.

“I went to the movies alone.”

“You went to the movies alone?” Chat questioned, and (Y/N) crossed her arms.

“All of my friends were busy,” She muttered with a shrug. “Fine. I’ll lay low.”

Chapter Text

Go to the movies by yourself, (Y/N) thought bitterly. It’ll be fine! But now she was trapped on a rooftop, watching as the world around her slowly turned to ice.

Chat Noir and Ladybug had left her only a few moments ago and despite their abrupt greeting, (Y/N) was starting to miss their presence. She realized just how exposed she was as she sat on the roof of someone’s house. What if Frozer came back and the heroes couldn’t reach them in time? (Y/N) would prefer not to turn into ice.

She tried to push those thoughts to the back of her mind. She wouldn’t be much help to herself if Frozer came back while she was crying. She repeated her breathing exercises once more to try to even her heart rate. Her therapist had told her to utilize them if she ever felt her emotions getting out of control. She hadn’t really had the need until now.

(Y/N) hadn’t been aware that an akuma attack was happening. Her movie had gotten out past the theater’s close time, so she didn’t find it odd that she didn’t see anyone in the lobby. She was texting her aunt back to let her know what time she would be home when suddenly she heard someone shout, and then she was being scooped into strong arms and racing through a world made of ice.

She had looked up to find Chat Noir staring ahead, the wind from his speed blowing back his blond hair. He glanced down at her for a second and a smirk had crept across his face. “Nice to see you again, Buttercup.” (Y/N) had scrunched her nose at the nickname but hadn’t had time to comment on it before they made a harsh turn into an alleyway. It was then that he had lifted them up to the rooftop and Ladybug had landed in front of them.

It was the first time she had ever interacted with Ladybug, but (Y/N) thought she was nice. Plenty nice, if she had shouted for Chat to rescue her instead of letting her get turned into a human ice sculpture. She’d have to ask Marinette if Chat was always such a flirt.

(Y/N) heard a crackling noise and looked around for its source. She crawled to the edge of the building and watched as the ice crept up the side at a pace much too fast for her comfort. (Y/N) wasn’t sure what would happen if the ice reached her, but she didn’t want to stay to find out.

She knew that Ladybug and Chat Noir had asked her to stay put, but what if she was in danger? Surely they would want her to have some sense of self-preservation. (Y/N) walked quickly to the other side of the building, where a ladder led down to the alley below. She climbed down only to realize that it stopped just a few feet above the ground. Who on earth made ladders like this? She dropped to the ground, hissing as the shock reverberated through her ankles and up her legs.

(Y/N) hesitated on what to do next. On the one hand, she could try to make the run home, but risk encountering Frozer on the way. There would also be no way for her to notify Chat Noir and Ladybug that she was okay. Plus, there was a rather large part of her that was curious over how these akumatizations turned out. She had watched some of Alya’s videos on the Ladyblog, but they had done nothing to satiate her curiosity.

(Y/N) knew this was a bad idea. But she started walking toward the fight anyway.

It had progressed further into the city, closer to the Eiffel Tower, so as people were fleeing the area, (Y/N) was walking toward it. She tried to maneuver carefully so that neither Frozer nor the heroes would see her. It was really quite amazing, watching the two of them fight together. They were a team in every sense of the word. A move that Chat Noir made was completely responsive to the moves made by Ladybug, and vice versa. They fought like a well-oiled machine.

(Y/N) crouched behind a car, peering over its trunk to watch the battle. Frozer spun quickly on his ice, sending the ice darts all throughout the street. (Y/N) ducked, her chest heaving as she leaned against the door of the car. The car had taken the hit for her, as well as the wall just a few feet away. She gulped. Was recklessness a part of grief? (Y/N) would have to ask Ben.

There was a little voice in her mind that told her how stupid she was being, how dangerous this was. But (Y/N) remained still, her eyes flashing between the three bodies. She had never seen anything like it. She had known superheroes were real, but there had never been any in her town. Their fights in person were also nothing like how they translated through video. (Y/N) could practically feel the raw power, the magic, flowing through the air.

The fight moved closer to her hiding spot and (Y/N) ducked down once more, pressing her back against the car and trying to be still as possible. Ever so slowly, she moved, looking over the hood of the car to see if it was safe. Frozer was only a few feet away, as were Ladybug and Chat Noir. It took (Y/N) a moment to notice the boy across the street.

His hair was black, with cerulean tips. He, like (Y/N), was hidden behind a car. Their eyes met from across the street and it was then that (Y/N) recognized him: Luka Couffaine. Marinette’s Luka. He was here, right now, in the middle of danger. (Y/N) wondered quickly why humans became so concerned with other people’s danger over their own. She had never spoken to Luka, but it was like she could see the wheels turning in his head. She shook her own at him, silently urging for him to not do whatever he was planning, but he refused to listen. He ran out from behind the car, directly toward Frozer. The villain saw Luka before he realized it and began to spin rapidly. (Y/N) ducked down again, closing her eyes tight.

“No!” She heard Ladybug shriek. Once the darts died down, (Y/N) lifted her head. Ladybug had collapsed to the ground, her shoulders heaving with sobs. Luka and Chat Noir were now ice sculptures. Luka’s body frozen in his run as he reached out to attack Frozer and Chat Noir’s staring in surprise at the boy.

(Y/N) wasn’t sure why Ladybug had broken down, but she watched, her heartbeats pounding against her chest, as she remained on the ground. As Frozer inched closer to the hero, a thought occurred to (Y/N): could she really sit here once more, helpless, as something horrible was about to happen?

(Y/N) clenched her jaw. She had thought only moments ago that watching this superhero fight so close was the stupidest thing she had ever done. It turns out that what she was about to do would take that title.

Slowly, she inched over to a nearby trash can, taking its metal lid into her hands. Ladybug remained on the ground and Frozer was bending down to take her Miraculous from her ears. (Y/N) rose to her full height, gripping the handle of the trashcan and holding it close to herself like a shield. Then, she started to run as fast as she could.

She stopped running as soon as she hit the ice. Her sneakers had horrible traction, which (Y/N) had been banking on. She slid across the smooth surface, the momentum from her run causing her to barrel directly into Frozer. She sent him flying into a nearby wall of ice, where he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

It was then that (Y/N) tried to regain her balance. She turned around, skittering across the ice like a baby deer walking for the first time. She reached Ladybug and grabbed her by the arms. “Hey!” She whispered. “It’s okay, you’re okay!” Ladybug started shaking her head. (Y/N) gripped the sides of her head and lifted it up. Ladybug’s blue eyes welled with tears as they continuously streaked down her face. Although it didn’t make sense to (Y/N), her heart still ached for her. “We can fix this,” She told Ladybug. “He’s knocked out, but it won’t be for long. Do you have any way to get to his akuma?”

Ladybug glanced at her hip, where a mallet was strung to her waist. (Y/N) lifted the heavy tool into her grasp. “Perfect,” She said. “Now what do I do with this?”

Ladybug wiped at her tears. “Th-The akuma should be in his skates.” With a nod, (Y/N) lifted the mallet over her head and brought it down onto Frozer’s skates, hoping that she had aimed correctly and wouldn’t smash the poor man’s ankle.

Sure enough, a purple butterfly fluttered out of his now broken skates. It fluttered upward, but Ladybug wordlessly captured it in her yo-yo before releasing the white butterfly back into the sky. (Y/N) had watched numerous videos of Ladybug and knew that parts of her normal routine were missing. She returned to Ladybug’s side.

“I’m sorry,” Ladybug apologized. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” (Y/N) said with a smile. “Your feelings are completely valid." Okay, maybe (Y/N) was spending a little too much time with her therapist. "I think you’re an amazing superhero, by the way. Thank you for saving the day.”

Ladybug gave her a wobbly smile. “I think that was all you.” (Y/N) batted a hand.

“Please. We both saved the day. Chat Noir can get some of the credit too, even though he’s frozen.” Ladybug, despite a few stray tears streaming down her face, giggled. (Y/N) offered her the mallet. “I believe this is yours.”

Ladybug accepted it and threw it into the air, shouting, “Miraculous Ladybug!” (Y/N) watched as a thousand magical ladybugs flew throughout the city, righting everything that was once wrong. Chat Noir and Luka returned to their original forms, as well as Frozer.

Chat Noir narrowed his green eyes at (Y/N). “I thought we told you to stay on the roof!”

(Y/N) grinned at him. “Welcome back, Popsicle!” Despite her quip, Chat Noir grinned at her.

(Y/N) was glad to see, when she returned home, that the news station had frozen over, so no one had gotten any live footage of the last few moments of the fight. There was no record of Ladybug’s moment of weakness, nor (Y/N’s) act of heroism, and she was okay with that. No one would question Ladybug’s ability as a hero and (Y/N) wouldn’t get unnecessary attention. It was truly a win-win situation.

Despite witnessing her Ladybug burst into tears, (Y/N) knew that didn’t speak to Ladybug’s heroism in the slightest. She herself was known to have frequent moments of weakness and she didn’t think it made her any less capable. She hoped Ladybug knew the same.

As (Y/N) got ready for bed, the weight of what she had done eventually came crashing down as the adrenaline dissipated. She stared at herself in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. She had really helped take down a villain. An akumatized villain. One with powers to turn her into a human ice pop.

She felt her eyes water as she stared at herself. Soon, her bottom lip trembled. She slid to the floor, her back to the bathroom cabinets as she hugged her legs to her chest and buried her face in her knees.

Why couldn’t she have been that brave a month ago?

Chapter Text

After the city was back to normal, after the ice skating instructor was safe, and after seeing (Y/N) off, Marinette transformed back into regular Ladybug. The effects of the macaron had worn off on her Miraculous and she only had a few minutes before she would turn back into Marinette. But in the meantime, she had sat herself on a rooftop. Paris had a wonderful view. Marinette realized that by living here, sometimes she took it for granted. The city’s features were always just a blur in her day. She forgot how beautiful it could be.

As she sat, Marinette realized a few other things. She wasn’t as okay as she thought she was. She had completely broken down in the middle of an akuma attack. Even in the aftermath, it was hard to untangle the flurry of emotions behind it. Luka being frozen had been the catalyst, she knew that much. It was likely that Hawkmoth knew that now, too. She knew that he was ruthless and would do anything to get her Miraculous. If he used Luka against her…

Marinette inhaled a deep breath. Something like that would certainly be her breaking point. She cared too much about Luka to have anything happen to him. With everything that was always going on in her life, it had been hard to discern exactly what her feelings for Luka were, but now she knew. Luka was her weakness. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to start over with him.

The shuffling at her side brought her out of her thoughts. She looked up to see Chat Noir taking a seat beside her. “Everything okay?” He asked. And Marinette shook her head. “You can talk to me about it, if you need to.”

“I’m worried that if I talk about it, you’ll think of me differently.”

“I don’t imagine myself ever thinking you’re anything but an amazing hero, friend, and lady.” Marinette smiled.

“Everything is too much sometimes,” She explained. It hurt her that she couldn’t even be fully honest with Chat, who was the only person who knew about this part of her life. “I’m exhausted, constantly. I just wish I could press pause so I could breathe for a second.”

“Sounds like a job for Lady Wifi,” Chat joked. Marinette’s smile was weak. “If there’s anyone who can handle all of this, it’s you.”

She wasn’t so sure. Marinette stood as her earrings beeped and Chat joined her. She turned to face him and quickly wrapped her arms around his middle, resting her head on his chest. He was stunned at first, but eventually wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Things must be really serious if you’re showing me affection,” He said. It was lighthearted, but Marinette didn’t respond. Because he was right.

She pulled away and smiled up at him. “See you around, Kitty.”

“Later, Bugaboo.”

Marinette dropped to the ground, transforming back to herself as soon as her feet reached the ground. She reached to her pocket and fed Tikki another, regular macaron. “What are you thinking, Marinette?” Her kwami asked.

“I’m worried that Hawkmoth knows that I care about Luka. I don’t want to risk putting him in danger.” Marinette drew her dark brows together as she walked back to Alya’s house. “I’m thinking that I’m tired, Tikki. I know I have an obligation, but…But I’m not sure I want it anymore.” She looked at Tikki. “I mean, Wayzz even said that Master Fu wasn’t Guardian and the protector of Paris at the same time. I haven’t even gotten a chance to look at all of the notes he left me.” Marinette chewed at her bottom lip. “I just feel like I’m constantly on edge. If I’m not failing in one aspect of my life, I am in another.” She thought to the Chemistry test that she had bombed the day before. It had really ruined her spirit. She was the kind of person who had always tried hard in school, but now she never had the time. She barely had enough time to sleep.

“I don’t know what to do, Tikki,” Marinette’s eyes watered. “I love being Ladybug, but I think of all the things I could cut back on and—” She met her kwami’s eyes. “Would it be silly of me, to give up being Ladybug for a boy?”

“You’re minimizing how you feel when you put it that way,” Tikki said. “The responsibility of the Ladybug Miraculous is a great one, but you also have a responsibility to yourself. If you’re not taking care of your own wellbeing, you’re not going to be happy.”

Marinette nodded. “Have I ever told you that you’re very wise?” Tikki smiled, snuggling into Marinette’s cheek.

“Occasionally,” Tikki chirped. “Master Fu gave you both the Ladybug Miraculous and the Guardianship because he knew you were capable of each of those positions. He knew that whatever decisions you decided to make, they would be incredibly thought out and reasonable!”

“You know just what to say,” Marinette said with a smile. “Okay, I’ll…I’ll play around with the idea. I don’t even know who I would give the Miraculous to.”

Marinette left Alya’s the next morning and walked down to the river, to Luka’s houseboat. Just as she suspected, he was sitting on the upper deck, strumming his guitar in the morning sun. He looked up as she approached, and she gave him a wave. “Can we talk?”

Luka smiled slightly, nodding. “Climb aboard.”

Marinette felt more than a bit awkward, standing in front of him. “I, uh, wanted to apologize for not reaching out sooner. And also for what happened last week.”

“Marinette—”

“No, I had thought of everything I wanted to say and if I don’t say it I’ll lose it all.” Marinette inhaled a deep breath. “You were right, about me. It hurt to hear it, but I think I knew I wasn’t being fair to you. And if we’re being honest, it’s because I wasn’t really sure about my feelings for you. I mean, you understood my whole thing with Adrien…I wasn’t really sure how to sort through everything I felt. I know I’m constantly late, but I promise I had good reason to be. I’ve been going through a lot lately and I can’t share all of it. But I-I’ve untangled my feelings. And my thoughts. I care a lot about you, Luka, I always have, but I really want to make this—us—work. I understand if it’s too late, if you don’t want an ‘us’ anymore. But I don’t want to lose you, at all.” Marinette sighed. “The end.”

Luka sat, staring up at her, for a few grueling moments. “What I said last week, Marinette, was really harsh. I was hurt and got in my head and didn’t give you the chance to explain yourself.”

“No,” Marinette said, shaking her head. “I deserved it. I didn’t make you a priority and you had every right to be upset with me.”

“But that’s not the way I should have gone about it. When I saw how upset I made you, I felt horrible. I didn’t reach out to you because I was scared you never wanted to talk to me again.” He gestured to the pile of papers at his side. “I can’t tell you how many songs I’ve written trying to tell you how sorry I am.”

“I can’t write songs,” Marinette said quietly. “But if I could design an outfit to show you how sorry I was, I would.” Luka grinned.

He set his guitar down and stood. “I care about you, too, Marinette. I don’t want to lose you, either. Or us.” Marinette felt a smile crawl across her face. “How about we start over?” He extended his hand. “Hi, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m Luka Couffaine and I think you’re really amazing. Would you like to go out sometime?”

Marinette felt the blush heat up her entire face. It was horribly cheesy, like something in some poorly written rom-com, but she took his hand in hers. “Hi, Luka Couffaine. I think you’re one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever met. I would love to go out with you.” Luka smiled once more and Marinette watched it spread across his face. He was the kind of person whose smile reached his eyes. They sparkled happily and crinkled at the corners.

Marinette reached forward and wrapped her arms around his midsection, squeezing him tightly. Luka coughed in surprise, but soon wrapped his own arms around her, resting his chin on her head. Marinette inhaled deeply. He smelled like cedar and pine, which she thought was a wonderful scent. They stood like this for a long time before Luka finally spoke.

“Marinette?” She hummed in response. “Could I kiss you?”

Her entire body stiffened. She pulled away to look up at him and it made her feel just a tiny bit better that he was also as red as a tomato. “I don’t know if you’d want to,” She said. Luka furrowed his brow.

“Why wouldn’t I want to?”

“W-Well, I’ve never done it before. What if I’m horrible?” Luka smiled down at her.

“I don’t think you could be horrible at anything. Would you at least let me try?”

Marinette nodded, closing her eyes rather quickly. His hand caressed her cheek, and she felt his nose touch hers, which made her flinch. Softly, his lips pressed against hers, and Marinette felt as though something had taken her breath away. She leaned in closer to him, tilting her chin up, but Luka pulled away.

“See? I think that went rather well.” Marinette nodded, partially stunned into silence.

“Could we do it again?”

After visiting Luka, Marinette’s heart felt significantly lighter. She felt more confident in her decision to be with him. Perhaps she only needed a bit of time to realize what she was missing. That, and an akuma attack.

She returned to her house to quickly freshen up before hanging out with (Y/N). Marinette had had to run back home, or else she would’ve been late, so she flew up the stairs and quickly changed out of the outfit she had completely sweat through. When she came back downstairs, (Y/N) was waiting for her in her living room. “Your parents insisted I come up,” She explained.

Marinette smiled at her friend. “Ready to go?”

The girls headed outside. The air had warmed significantly since the morning. Marinette hoped that the cold part of spring was well behind them. “How was Alya’s?”

“It was good,” Marinette said with a nod. “Although, I ran home to get a toothbrush and got frozen in the akuma attack!” (Y/N’s) mouth dropped open. Sometimes, when it wasn’t too stressful, Marinette liked this secret part of being a superhero. “How was your movie?” She knew exactly how (Y/N’s) movie had gone, but she needed to maintain her story.

“I also got caught up in the akuma attack,” (Y/N) said with a sigh.

“Really? What happened to you?”

“I walked out of the movie theater and Chat Noir scooped me up and skated off with me. He and Ladybug left me on a roof while they fought the villain.” (Y/N) gave no indication that anything else happened, which Marinette felt grateful for. While she had wanted to trust her friend, there was a small part of her that worried that (Y/N) would share what happened with Ladybug last night. (Y/N) turned to Marinette. “Is he always such a flirt?”

“Chat? Yeah, pretty much.” (Y/N) hummed. “Why? You interested?”

(Y/N) let out a laugh. “Absolutely not. I’d prefer someone without a mask, thank you very much.”

Marinette showed (Y/N) to a local French boutique that she frequented whenever there was an event that required special attire. “Why’s your aunt having people over?” (Y/N) shrugged as they walked through the racks.

“I think she’s looking for donors for…something?” (Y/N) smiled at Marinette. “Is it bad I have absolutely no idea?”

“I don’t have any clue about half the events my parents cater, so I think you’re fine.” Marinette held up a bright red dress to show (Y/N), but her friend shook her head. “It’s nice of her to let you attend, though. You’ll get to mingle with Paris’ finest!”

“I’m sure I’m more of a conversation piece for my aunt than anything,” (Y/N) held up an emerald green dress, which Marinette shook her head at.

“Sleeves are too poofy,” Marinette explained. “I hope you’re ready to hear a bunch of rich people talk about things that only matter to them.” Marinette skated her hand through the silky fabrics. “Are you worried about you-know-who being there?”

(Y/N) shook her head as she sorted through dresses. “After what happened, I don’t think my aunt would invite them anyway. It might be a huge diss to the mayor, but she doesn’t really care.”

Marinette reached forward, snatching up a violet dress that (Y/N) was about to pass over. “You’d look great in this!”

(Y/N) eyed it cautiously. “Are you sure? I don’t think I’ve owned a single violet thing in my life.” Marinette nodded.

“It’d look lovely with your complexion and the cut is perfect for your bone structure.” She pushed (Y/N) toward the dressing room. “Try it on!” Begrudgingly, (Y/N) went inside the dressing room. Marinette thought of (Y/N’s) comments about her aunt. Why would she be a conversation piece for dinner?

Marinette was satisfied to see, once (Y/N) emerged from the fitting room, that she had been exactly right. The color looked wonderful on (Y/N) and the fit of the dress was absolutely perfect on her. (Y/N) eyed herself in the mirror. “It’s too long,” She said as she turned to Marinette. “I don’t have time to get it tailored.”

Marinette waved a hand dismissively. “You let me worry about that.” Marinette helped (Y/N) stand on a platform while she got to her knees. From her purse she pulled out an emergency case of pins and began to pin the dress where it would need to be hemmed. It should be a simple enough job; the fabric wouldn’t be too hard to work with, and she was almost certain that she had a thread of the exact same color.

When Marinette looked up, she noticed that (Y/N) was staring down at her, confused. “You carry pins in your purse?” Marinette grinned.

“You mean you don’t?” Marinette stood, pretending to wipe the dust off of her hands. “Now go take that off and we can check out. I’m starving.” She stood outside of the dressing room as she waited. “I want to be a fashion designer once I’m older,” Marinette told her through the fitting room door. “If you have time, we can stop by my house and I can hem the dress for you.”

(Y/N), still undressed, peaked around the door and looked at Marinette with a glint of excitement in her eyes. “Can I see some of your designs?” Marinette nodded, despite feeling a bit shy. Her designs were so personal to her. It felt like her soul was on those pieces of paper. But still, she was excited that (Y/N) seemed so excited.

“Have you ever asked Gabriel Agreste about an apprenticeship?” (Y/N) emerged, wearing her regular clothes. The dress was slung over her arm.

Marinette shook her head. “No, I couldn’t do that. He’s so intimidating.”

“Why don’t you ask Adrien to ask him?”

“No way!”

“Why not? It’s just Adrien!”

“To you he’s ‘just Adrien,’ but to me he’s the boy I had a crush on for over a year and who I can’t talk to without tripping over my words!” Marinette shook her head decisively. “I couldn’t ask that of Adrien. His relationship with his dad is already so…”

“So what?”

Marinette sighed. It wasn’t any use hiding it from (Y/N). “His father is super strict. He didn’t let Adrien go to school with kids his own age until this year. And he’s threatened to take Adrien out on more than one occasion. Mr. Agreste is a genius, but I don’t think he and Adrien are very close.” It made Marinette sad, because she knew how much Adrien cared about his father. She worried that his father didn’t care for him the same. In her mind, Marinette scolded herself. It wasn’t her place to make assumptions about their relationship.

But did she believe that she was that far off? Absolutely not.

(Y/N) frowned. “He’s really never gone to school before?” Marinette shook her head.

“He was homeschooled all of his life. Chloe was his only friend for a while.”

“That’s so strange. I feel like Adrien is so—”

“Charismatic?” (Y/N) smiled at Marinette.

“Yeah, I guess that’s the word for it. He must’ve gotten really good at friendships over the last few months, because he’s been super nice to me.”

“I think that’s just how Adrien is,” Marinette admitted. “I think he’s just good.”

“Careful, Marinette,” (Y/N) teased. “Your crush is showing.” Marinette rolled her eyes.

“I don’t have a crush on him anymore. Besides, Luka and I are back together.”

(Y/N’s) eyes went wide and she gripped onto Marinette’s arm. “Why didn’t you tell me that as soon as I got to your house! Marinette, that’s wonderful? So everything went well, then?” Marinette nodded happily, before giving (Y/N) every detail of what had happened. “That’s really great, Marinette, I’m so happy for you!” (Y/N) moved toward the check out counter. “Of course, if he makes you upset again, I’d have to pulverize him.”

“I’ll be sure to let him know.”

Once (Y/N) purchased her dress, Marinette led her to a café just a few streets away. “They have the best sandwiches,” Marinette explained as they sat at their table. (Y/N) eyed her menu carefully, her brows scrunching together as she looked over the French words. “We can ask for an English menu, if you want?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “No, it’s fine.” She smiled softly at Marinette. “I’m getting better at reading, now that I have to do it all the time.” She set her menu down. “Would you mind ordering for me, though? I’m scared that I’ll trip over my words.”

“I doubt the waiter would think anything of it! Your French is a lot better than a lot of the people who come here having studied it.” (Y/N) shrugged. “Who taught you how to speak French?”

(Y/N) sipped at her water. “My dad did, but I also took it in school.”

Marinette remembered what Alya had said the night before, about (Y/N) rarely mentioning her family. The last thing Marinette wanted to do was pry, but she wanted to know more about (Y/N) before she arrived in Paris. “What’s your dad like?” She decided to ask. It was a simple enough question and one that she hoped wouldn’t trouble (Y/N) too much.

(Y/N’s) eyes drifted down, watching her hands as she twiddled her thumbs. The waiter arrived to take their orders before she got the chance to speak. They chatted about minor things as they ate for lunch, like the time Marinette had accidentally gone on a date with Nino or how (Y/N) had gotten stuck in the play place at her local mall back home when she was little.

Marinette didn’t mention any more about (Y/N’s) father during their lunch, nor when they walked back to her house. If (Y/N) really wanted to talk about him, she would. She suspected the secrets (Y/N) held had something to do with him. Naturally, Marinette’s first thoughts suspected that the two of them hadn’t had a good relationship and that was why (Y/N) had moved to Paris on a whim. It would explain why she never mentioned him. Perhaps (Y/N) had left him behind in the United States for a good reason.

Marinette led (Y/N) up to her room and instructed her to change back into the dress for only a moment. She set up a makeshift platform for her to stand on and made work replacing the pins with the much sturdier ones she kept at home. (Y/N) looked around Marinette’s room as she worked.

“What’s that for?” She gestured to the door in Marinette’s roof.

“Oh, that leads to the balcony.”

“I have a balcony in my room, too!” Marinette hadn’t gotten the chance to see (Y/N’s) room when she spent the night last weekend. She had used the hall bathroom to get ready for bed and they had both fallen asleep on the plush couch in the living room. “I’ve been meaning to get plants to decorate it, it’s kind of bare now.”

“There’s a really cute plant shop by the river,” Marinette told her. “We should go sometime.”

(Y/N) smiled down at her. The two of them fell into a comfortable silence as Marinette adjusted the length of the hem. It was a long time before (Y/N) spoke. “Marinette? Can I tell you something?”

The girl in question jumped in surprise, stabbing herself in the finger with the pin. Marinette hissed as she shook her hand. “Oh no, I’m so sorry!” (Y/N) stepped off the podium to assess the damage she caused.

“I’m fine,” Marinette reassured her. “Happens all the time, really! I’m not even bleeding, I’ve developed calluses on my fingertips from how many times I’ve poked myself.” She looked back up at her friend. “What did you want to tell me?”

(Y/N) swallowed, stepping back on the podium so Marinette could get back to work. “Um, you asked what my dad’s like. He was really nice. The nicest guy in our neighborhood. People would come to him if they needed anything, milk, sugar, an oil change. He was a mechanic. We always spoke French in the house but whenever we went out together, I made him speak English, since he wouldn’t have me to translate when I went to college. He liked to watch old American Western movies, but he’d turn on the French dub, so they’d just sound weird. His favorite kind of cupcake was yellow cake with chocolate icing, and he used to call me his little mushroom because I grew up too fast.”

Marinette paused her work to listen to (Y/N). Her friend’s eyes were trained on the ground, but she noticed the telling wet droplets on the skirt of the dress. The corners of Marinette’s lips turned down ever so slightly. “When you say that your dad was,” (Y/N) nodded before Marinette could finish her sentence, which she was grateful for. She wasn’t sure how to talk about something like that.

(Y/N) wiped at her tears and stepped down from the stand, choosing to sit on it instead. “Monday will be two months since he passed away.” She looked at Marinette. “I didn’t want to tell anyone, at first. I left home being the girl whose dad died. I didn’t want to be same person here, too.”

“So that’s why you had to move in with your aunt so quickly,” Marinette guessed. “(Y/N), I’m so, so sorry. I don’t think I can even express how…”

(Y/N) shook her head. “It’s okay. I wanted to tell you because ever since I got here, you’ve been a really good friend to me, even when I did stuff that didn’t really make sense. I figured I owed you some honesty.”

Marinette wrapped her arms around her friend, taking (Y/N) by surprise. Marinette squeezed her tightly, resting her chin on her shoulder. “You don’t owe me anything, but I’m so happy you trusted me enough to tell me.” She pulled away and the two girls smiled at each other. “I won’t tell anyone else, I promise. But now you don’t have to keep this to yourself. You have me to talk to.”

(Y/N) gripped Marinette’s hands in hers. “Thank you, Marinette. I really appreciate you.” Marinette wiped away the last stray tear that remained on (Y/N’s) face. Then, she helped her get back to her feet.

“So, did whatever happened with Chloe have something to do with your dad?” (Y/N) nodded.

“She called me an orphan and said that it was a wonder my dad didn’t give me up earlier.” (Y/N) sighed. “Cue slap.”

Marinette felt her blood boil. She knew that Chloe had said something a lot worse than calling (Y/N) ugly. “I hate her!” She exclaimed. “I wish I could give her a piece of my mind. I don’t blame you at all for slapping her, honestly. Someone should’ve done it sooner. I can’t believe she said that to you.” She ushered (Y/N) behind her screen so she could get changed.

“I think she regrets it. I had to tell her in the principal’s office in order to avoid a complete expulsion. I asked her to keep it a secret, but I’m surprised she did.” (Y/N) handed the dress back to Marinette, who took it to her sewing machine.

“If she doesn’t, then she’ll have me to deal with,” Marinette grumbled.

As Marinette hemmed the dress, (Y/N) sat beside her and talked about the many aspects of her life that she had kept hidden since she moved here. She didn’t know her mother, which she told Marinette was fine, because she had had the best father a girl could ask for. Her living room back home had consisted of two recliners, one which was decidedly her Dad’s and the other Hers. She knew absolutely nothing about cars, despite her dad owning one of the repair shops in town.

Marinette noticed that (Y/N) talked freely for the first time, as if she weren’t scared of holding anything back. She talked excitedly about all of the things she and her dad used to do together, like she was happy to finally have someone to share them with. Marinette couldn’t help but feel honored that (Y/N) had chosen her, of all people, to share this intimate part of her life.

She hugged (Y/N) tightly before she left and (Y/N) squeezed her back. Sometimes, in life, there were people you just clicked with. People that you knew were going to be great friends to you for a long time. Marinette got that feeling about (Y/N).

She returned to her room and flopped on her bed, feeling the inklings of a nap coming on. Tikki flew out of Marinette’s purse. “That was really nice of (Y/N) to share that with you. No wonder she was so secretive at first, the poor girl has been through a lot.”

Marinette hummed. “I knew she was hiding something, but I could have never imagined it was anything like that. Every time I saw her, she always had on a smile. If something like that happened to me, I don’t think I’d be able to leave my room for a few months.”

“She seems really brave,” Tikki agreed. Marinette nodded as she swaddled herself beneath her blankets. As she closed her eyes, she had an idea regarding (Y/N) and a certain pair of earrings.

Chapter Text

Adrien hated suits. He had no idea how his father managed to wear them all the time. He squirmed in the backseat of his car, sighing unhappily as the suit refused to be adjusted in a way that was comfortable. In the other seat, Nathalie gave him a disapproving look. “You’ll ruin the creases if you keep fidgeting,” She chided.

Adrien stilled, albeit reluctantly. He stared out the window as the city passed by. The only saving grace from having to wear a suit all night was that they were currently headed to Marguerite Estrelle’s apartment, which meant that (Y/N) would likely be in attendance for the dinner party this evening. Normally at these events, he remained silent at Nathalie’s side, smiling politely at the elite that passed by. At least now he would have someone to talk to.

His father was technically also in attendance tonight, but he would only be communicating through the tablet Nathalie held. Adrien wished that just once, his father would attend something with him. They used to frequent events together all the time, before Adrien’s mother had disappeared. They used to do a lot of things before his mother disappeared.

Gorilla parked in the private parking garage beneath the apartment complex. Adrien wished that his bodyguard could come upstairs with them. He spent the majority of his time with him anyway, so Adrien felt rather close with the man. Instead, he and Nathalie walked toward the private access elevator that would take them directly to the Estrelle residence.

The staff member at the elevator, a relatively burly man that rivaled even Gorilla in height, asked that they show their proof of invitation, which Nathalie promptly handed over to him. Adrien hadn’t anticipated that a dinner party would need its own bodyguard, but then again, Marguerite Estrelle was inviting a bunch of people into her private residence. It was better to be safe than sorry.

The elevator doors opened into a grand apartment. Where Adrien’s home was mostly black, grey, and white, (Y/N’s) was full of much warmer colors, like gold, cream, and brown. The wall of windows showed the skyline of Paris. In the distance, the Eiffel Tower gleamed a brilliant gold.

Adrien had expected that the dinner party would be something small, with only a handful of guests, but the Estrelle residence was full of Paris’ most wealthy. Alec Cataldi, host of one of the most prominent TV shows in Paris chatted with Clara Nightingale, an esteemed singer. As Adrien’s eyes swept over the crowd, he recognized nearly every face, except for his friend's. Adrien shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. He felt out of place here. Even at his own father’s events, he was aware that the only reason he was in attendance was because he was the son of Gabriel Agreste. He was a formality, a hope of getting into Gabriel’s good graces.

He wasn’t sure how she did it, but Nathalie wordlessly located Marguerite Estrelle. The successful author was deep in conversation with Jagged Stone at the far end of the dining room, but she quickly turned as if she sensed them approaching. Her golden brown eyes landed on Nathalie first, then Adrien, and a smile crawled across her face.

“Nathalie!” Marguerite exclaimed, nearly spilling the glass of champagne in her hand. She placed it on the tray of a passing waiter. “How are you?”

“Hello, Mrs. Estrelle,” Nathalie said politely. Marguerite waved a hand.

“Please, Nathalie. We’ve known each other long enough to be on a first name basis, I think.” Marguerite’s eyes grazed over Adrien. Despite being fifteen, he was nearly her height. Her neck tilted back just slightly to look at him. “Oh, Adrien! You’ve grown so much since the last time I saw you. Do you remember?”

Adrien had been anticipating this question, so he had asked Nathalie its answer before they arrived. “Yes, my ninth birthday,” He said with a cordial smile. “You got me a piano. Thank you for that, by the way. I haven’t stopped playing since.”

Marguerite squealed happily. “You’ll have to play for us tonight!” Adrien had no intention of doing that, but he learned it was best to smile and agree when it came to wealthy people, especially drunk wealthy people.

“Mrs. Estrelle,” Nathalie interjected. “Mr. Agreste would like to speak to you for a moment.” She lifted the tablet in her hand to face Marguerite, and Gabriel Agreste’s face appeared across the screen.

“Hello, Marguerite,” He said. Marguerite held up a finger to Gabriel before turning back to Adrien.

“My niece is around here somewhere! Why don’t you two get acquainted? She’s wearing a purple dress.” She gripped onto Adrien’s wrist. “Purple. Dress.” Adrien smiled at her again, this time genuinely. Marguerite Estrelle was an amusing drunk. She must have forgotten that he and her niece went to school together and were actually good friends.

Still, Adrien excused himself to go looking for (Y/N). With Marguerite’s clue of a purple dress, she was much easier to look for, but Adrien was having trouble finding her. He searched the house from the dining room to the hallway at the far end. He was about to pull out his phone to text her before he felt a hand at his arm.

Kagami’s arm slotted through his and she smiled up at him. “Adrien,” She said with a smile. Adrien smiled back at her, albeit in surprise. He hadn’t known she was coming.

“Hey!” Her arm fell out of his as he turned to look at her. “What are you doing here?”

“Marguerite Estrelle invited my mother,” Kagami explained.

“I’m surprised she decided to come.” Kagami’s mother was the strict, no-nonsense type. She didn’t seem like the kind to attend a dinner party.

Kagami hummed, glancing around the room with slight disproval. “It’s a bit more than we were expecting.” She grabbed Adrien’s hand. “You have to come say hello to her.” He nodded as he turned back toward the crowd.

“I was just looking for (Y/N).” As if summoned by the statement, (Y/N) appeared in the crowd, trying to squeeze her way between two very talkative men. She finally broke through and once her eyes landed on Adrien, she broke into a relieved grin.

Adrien, like his father, prided himself on his eye for beauty. He could recognize when a shot was just right, or if a painting needed a little something more in order for it to really shine. (Y/N) wore a floor-length purple dress, with her hair pulled back into an elegant braid. A few stray hairs framed her face. She looked beautiful, but of course Adrien couldn’t tell her that. Friends didn’t tell friends those sorts of things.

Especially when their girlfriends were standing at their side.

(Y/N) walked up to them, narrowly avoiding crashing into multiple guests who seemed unaware of her presence. When she finally reached the two of them, she huffed. “I’m so glad to see you two. I’m having a horrible time!”

Kagami glanced down where (Y/N’s) skirt met the floor. “Are you wearing shoes?”

A flash of embarrassment flashed over (Y/N’s) face. “Well, they started to hurt my feet,” She looked up at Adrien and he gave her an amused smile. He understood being uncomfortable at a formal event.  “I went from being the only person here ever to having at least eighty people here.” She flashed them both a grin. “I’m glad to have you guys now.”

Kagami squeezed his hand, a silent request to go find her mother. Adrien felt bad, to leave (Y/N) alone once more. She looked so relieved to see them, but he also knew that if he didn’t greet Kagami’s mother, she would fall out of her good graces. And he wasn’t even sure if he was in them. “We have to go say hi to a few people, but we’ll find you later, okay?”

(Y/N) smiled as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Yeah, for sure. I’ll be at the snack table.”

The dinner part of the dinner party commenced shortly after Adrien and Kagami greeted her mother, which he was just a smidge grateful for. Kagami’s mother, like Adrien’s father, was very strict and was certainly unafraid to voice her opinions, however disapproving. When the waiters ushered the guests to the round dining tables that had been set up in the grand dining room, Adrien breathed a sigh of relief.

He and Kagami were led to a table that must have been designated for the younger attendees of the party, because (Y/N) was already there waiting for them. She gave them an exaggerated wave as they neared. Adrien sat beside her, with Kagami on his other side. “I’m so hungry,” (Y/N) told them. “I haven’t eaten anything since I got lunch with Marinette, and that was pretty early in the day.”

“I’m glad to hear you and Marinette are getting along so well.” (Y/N) nodded.

“She’s been a great friend to me. She hemmed my dress today!”

“Marinette’s super talented when it comes to fashion,” Adrien affirmed. “She’s designed a few of the outfits I’ve worn in my father’s shows.”

“I heard! Does your father’s company ever do any internships? I think Marinette would be a great candidate for something like that.” Adrien hummed, furrowing his brows together. He hadn’t heard anything about internships with the Agreste brand, but perhaps he could ask his father the next time he saw him.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Adrien smiled. (Y/N) grinned right back at him.

“How has your weekend been, Kagami?” (Y/N) asked. The waiters began bringing around the food.

“Fine. I’ve been practicing for a fencing match that Adrien and I have tomorrow.”

“Oh, cool! Are people allowed to watch? I’d love to come support you both.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Kagami said quickly, and Adrien could see the momentary hurt flash across (Y/N’s) place. She still didn’t understand Kagami’s exterior just yet. “We’ll be having talent scouts there tomorrow. It isn’t a place for distractions.”

“It’s not the place for cheering,” Adrien tried quickly to save (Y/N’s) feelings. “It’s not like a football game.” Her brows drew together and her eyes hardened as her lips turned down into an angry frown. He realized that he was failing.

“I know that,” (Y/N) snapped, facing her full plate. She reached for her fork to start eating, but Adrien grabbed her by the wrist.

“You can’t eat until the host gives the okay,” Adrien told her. The French had a few customs when it came to dining that he was sure (Y/N) wasn’t used to. “Keep your hands on the table, too. And eat all of your food, or else it’ll be seen as rude.” He gave her a sympathetic smile. “Those are really the only rules.”

(Y/N) remained silent as she turned her head to fix her gaze on her aunt. She stayed silent for the remainder of the dinner and as soon as the rest of the guests had finished and started standing once more, she left the dining room without so much as a goodbye. Adrien looked to Kagami. “I feel like I might have put my foot in my mouth.”

“Both feet,” He heard Plagg mutter, but luckily Kagami didn’t hear over the chatter of the guests. She dabbed at her face with a napkin and shrugged.

“Perhaps she just isn’t used to being here yet.”

Chapter Text

While study hall happened in the library, the students that filled it were anything but quiet. Kim, Max, and his robot, Markov, were engaged in an intense discussion over some new video game that was coming out over the weekend. Rose, Mylene, and Juleka were giggling over Mylene’s latest date with Ivan. Alya, Marinette, and (Y/N) had claimed a table to study for their upcoming math test, but their conversation had steered from geometry to what had happened over the weekend.

Although her aunt’s party had ended up only upsetting her, (Y/N) told her friends that it had gone well, and they seemed pleased about that. “I’m happy being here is getting easier,” Alya had told her, and (Y/N) had given her a smile in return, feeling only the slightest bit guilty about lying to them. She just didn’t want them to worry about her. After the events of the week before, the last thing she wanted was for them to think she was ‘troubled.’ So, she didn’t tell them about how her aunt had introduced her as “Her American niece,” and how the guests talked down their noses at her in slowed English, as if she couldn’t possibly comprehend what they were saying. She pushed away the thoughts of being ignored in her own home, as well as the comments Kagami and Adrien had made.

(Y/N) figured that they meant well, but their words had still stung. She was trying hard to fit into this new chapter of her life, and their comments had made her feel like an outsider. They reminded her just how different she was than them. At her aunt’s party, those two were in their element. It was where they belonged.

(Y/N) focused her eyes back on her textbook. Everything was different now, but at least math remained similar.

“I heard Madame Bustier is going to assign us a group project,” Alya said as she doodled on her notebook. Her equations had quickly turned into rough images of flowers and detailed eyes.

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows. “How do you know about these things before everyone else?”

“A good reporter has inside sources,” Alya said confidently, making the other two giggle. “I just hope we get to pick our partners.”

“No joke,” Marinette sighed. “Last time, I was paired with Chloe and Sabrina.” (Y/N) winced.

“I imagine that went super well.” Chloe hadn’t said a word to (Y/N) since their incident. Even her bullying had stopped. (Y/N) suspected that Aunt Marguerite had something to do with that. She learned rather quickly that her aunt had connections that she wasn’t afraid to use. She just hoped that Chloe would return to somewhat normal. It was strange, being the only one that she didn’t tease. “When do you think she’s going to mention the project?”

“Probably not until before spring recess,” Alya explained, “So we have time to work on our projects over the break. Do American teachers assign homework over breaks, too?” (Y/N) nodded.

“Seems to be a universal cruelty.” She looked up to see Adrien and Nino walking through the library doors. Her eyes caught Adrien’s for just a second before she quickly looked away. While he had been trying to help, he had embarrassed her at the dinner party. Her anger had simmered over the weekend and was now replaced with the teenage mortification over the idea of talking to him again.

Marinette and Alya both stared at her with raised eyebrows. “What?” (Y/N) questioned, reaching forward to pull a pencil from Marinette’s pack in the middle.

“What was that?” Marinette questioned.

“What was what?”

“You know, the whole ‘look up and lock eyes and look away shyly,’” Alya explained. (Y/N) scoffed as she rolled her eyes.

“That was hardly what that was.”

“Hey, no one would blame you if you liked Adrien,” Alya said with a shrug. “I guarantee at least ninety-percent of Paris’ population does.”

“I don’t like him!” (Y/N) insisted. “The door opened and it drew my attention. I have a short attention span, which should be obvious, considering how little studying we’ve done.” (Y/N) shook her head to punctuate her statement. “I’ve been here two weeks. I barely like you two,” She smiled, and the two girls laughed.

“Speaking of liking people,” Marinette started, “Luka and I are going on a date after school today.”

“Girl, that’s awesome!” Alya completely closed her math textbook, totally enamored by this new conversation topic.

“What are you guys going to do?” (Y/N) tried to at least copy down the problems she would do for homework later.

“We’re gonna have a picnic in the park!”

“So romantic,” Alya and (Y/N) said in unison, causing all three girls to burst into giggles. Adrien and Nino rounded the bookcase, stopping at their table.

“What’s romantic?” Adrien asked. (Y/N) dove her nose further into her textbook and Marinette’s face had turned beet-red, so it was up to Alya to answer.

“Marinette and Luka are having a picnic in the park later.”

“No way!” Nino exclaimed. “I’m DJing Adrien’s photoshoot at the park. Maybe we’ll see you there.” As Marinette’s face blanched, (Y/N) looked up, too curious to ignore his statement.

“How do you DJ a photoshoot?” Nino shrugged.

“I don’t know dude, I just go where they tell me and get a sweet paycheck for the day.” (Y/N) pursed her lips but eventually accepted his answer and returned to her textbook. Adrien leaned over the table to look at her notebook.

“Are you guys studying for the geometry test?”

Alya snorted. “Barely.”

“I’m trying to, at least,” (Y/N) said as she scribbled more equations onto the paper. “Math was hard enough in English, I can’t imagine how it’ll be in French.”

“I could help you, if you want,” Adrien paused. “All of you! I took geometry before I came here.”

(Y/N) checked her phone as the rest of her friends made agreements to meet up again during their next study hall before the test. She would join, of course, because she needed the help. She just hoped that she would be over these weird feelings toward Adrien before then.

Part of her thought she should express to him how what he said made her feel. But another part of her worried that she was making too much of a deal about it. He had been trying to be helpful, after all. And they had only been friends for a few weeks. She didn’t want to make things too…serious. With Marinette, it was different. She felt like she and Marinette were on the same wavelength, that she could share things with her without judgement. But with Adrien, it was like he was from a completely different planet. His life was so different from hers.

When she zoned back in, Alya and Nino had left for lunch, and Marinette packed her things and chatted with Adrien. (Y/N) stood up quickly, her stomach grumbling at the idea of food. Her sleep schedule had improved so much that she had woken up late this morning and had to skip breakfast.

“(Y/N),” Adrien said, “Do you think you could meet me by the steps after school?” Her face reddened, but she nodded. With a smile, Adrien walked away.

“What was that about?” Marinette had packed (Y/N’s) bag and handed it to her.

“I honestly don’t know.” They started to walk back to the main level to eat their lunch.

“Do you think he’s going to ask you out?”

“No!” (Y/N) shook her head. “I hope not. My life’s complicated enough already.” She looked at Marinette. “And besides, didn’t you like him for the longest time?”

“Well, yes,” Marinette waved a hand. “But that was ages ago.” (Y/N) remembered Alya mentioning that it had been fairly recent, but she decided not to push it. “I wouldn’t be upset with you if…you know.” (Y/N) scrunched her nose.

“This is a hypothetical situation anyway,” (Y/N) sighed. “Adrien and I are just friends.”

Still, as (Y/N) approached the school steps at the end of the day, she feared that he would be asking her out. She had spent the entire rest of her classes thinking about it. Obviously, no one would mind getting asked out by Adrien Agreste, but she resolved that if that was what he wanted, she would say no. They barely knew each other, she had just moved to a new city, plus she had the whole Ben situation that she had yet to deal with. Being friends was easier. After she had accepted that, she tried to figure out a way to let him down easily. ‘Hey, Adrien, I know you’re the most eligible bachelor in Paris right now, but I would rather be your friend! Wanna get some pastries?’ Didn’t seem like a very appropriate way to let someone down.

Adrien was at the bottom of the steps, his silver car idling on the street. He grinned as he saw her and (Y/N) gave him a nervous smile back. “Hi,” She managed to squeak out once she reached him.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m really sorry for what I said at your aunt’s party on Saturday.” (Y/N’s) eyebrows practically shot to her hairline. She hadn’t been expecting that. “I hadn’t meant to offend you, but I could see that what I said made you upset, and I felt horrible. I realized how my words probably came across and I would’ve reached out to you sooner, but I was worried that you would be too mad at me. Plus, I prefer to talk in person.” He shrugged. “Regardless, I’m really sorry for my words, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) stared up at him, her eyes narrowed just slightly in confusion. “You’re—You’re really nice.”

Adrien blurted out a laugh. “I just apologized to you for being totally out of line and you call me nice?”

“It’s nice of you to apologize to me. Thank you for that, by the way. I forgive you. Sorry, I’m a little frazzled. I was going to avoid having a conversation about it and just sort of sweep it under the rug.” Adrien shook his head.

“Well, in the future, if I make you upset, just talk to me about it.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I’ve gotta run to that photoshoot, but I’ll see you tomorrow?” (Y/N) nodded and watched as he got into the silver car, gave her one last wave, and pulled onto the Paris streets.

Alright, so (Y/N) didn’t like Adrien like that. But now she understood why everyone else did.

When (Y/N) returned to her aunt’s apartment, she was unsurprised to find a note on the counter that said that Marguerite had to fly to London last minute. The credit card was hers to use, if she needed it. (Y/N) marveled yet again at how different her life was now. She understood how busy Marguerite was and didn’t blame her for needing to leave rather quickly. She couldn’t just easily change the life she had formed for herself just because a court had ordered her guardianship. But (Y/N’s) father had been the type of parent that never left her alone. She had her privacy, sure, but if he needed to work at odd hours, (Y/N) would either go to a friend’s house or come to the garage with him. She had spent many late nights studying in the office while he worked on his various projects and she had enjoyed it. Being alone was a new feeling that she realized she needed to get quickly adjusted to.

She grabbed a snack from the kitchen and positioned herself in the living room to start on her homework. As she pulled her notebooks and laptop from her bag, her pencil case spilled on the floor. With a sigh, (Y/N) bent down to pick up the various pens and highlighters, but she also noticed an unfamiliar item in the mess.

The box was brown, hexagonal in shape, and when she picked it up to look at it, it had an intricate red design on its top. Her brows furrowed. She didn’t recognize the small box, but it had been in her pencil case. How could something have gotten in there on accident?

(Y/N) lifted its lid, curious to find if the contents indicated who the box might belong to. At first, she only found a pair of earrings, but a bright flash of red and pink light caused her to drop the box in surprise. It clattered against the coffee table. When (Y/N) looked up, she was face to face with some sort of…animal? It was red, aside from a few black spots here and there. Its eyes were blue, wide, and curious looking and atop its head were two antennae.

“Hi! I’m Tikki!” The little creature said and (Y/N) jumped to the far end of the couch, away from it. It was cute, but where the hell did it come from? “You probably have a lot of questions and I’ll try my best to answer them!”

“I need to call my therapist,” (Y/N) said quickly, scrambling to her feet. This was the first sign of insanity, right? Seeing things that weren’t actually there? She grabbed her phone from the couch and tried to unlock it with shaky fingers.

Tikki flew up to her. “You can’t!” Tikki insisted. “No one else can know about me!”

“I need a picture to know I’m not going crazy,” (Y/N) snapped a photo, but the small creature didn’t show up on the image. (Y/N) let out a groan, collapsing over the arm of the couch. “It’s official! I’ve lost every single one of my marbles. I thought I had at least ten left.”

“You’re not crazy,” Tikki said with a sigh. “I’m as real as the phone in your hand!” (Y/N) turned her head to look at the animal-creature-thing. If she was hallucinating, she might as well find out the reason. “My name is Tikki, and I’m a kwami.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m getting there! Kwamis are magical beings that grant powers to the Miraculous holders.” She flew to the earring box. “I am the kwami of creation. These earrings are the Miraculous. Your Miraculous, actually. You were chosen to hold this Miraculous and become one of the heroes of Paris.”

(Y/N) sat up. “Like Ladybug and Chat Noir?” Tikki nodded excitedly. “So…you aren’t a hallucination?” Tikki shook her head and tapped (Y/N’s) finger with her little paw to show that she was, in fact, real. “Oh, thank god. I’ve been going through some things lately and I was worried that I had a complete mental breakdown without even realizing.”

“Your mental state is intact, as far as I can see,” Tikki giggled.

“Well, um, nice to meet you, Tikki. I’m (Y/N).” She tilted her head curiously. “Could I, um, ask you a few questions?”

“Always!”

“My friend Alya has a whole blog dedicated to the heroes that save Paris. So…which one are you? Rena Rouge, Queen Bee?” Tikki shook her head.

“I’m the Ladybug Miraculous.” (Y/N’s) mouth dropped open.

“You’re kidding! Then why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be with Ladybug? I mean, the real Ladybug?”

“You have been chosen as the new holder of the Ladybug Miraculous!”

“What?” (Y/N) nearly shrieked. “No. Nope, nope. There’s no way that I can be Ladybug. She’s so--! And I’m--! I got suspended from school last week! For hitting someone!” (Y/N) shook her head. “Absolutely not. I’m sorry, but you’ve got the wrong girl.”

“Your bravery and selflessness haven’t gone unnoticed!” Tikki insisted.

“No, you don’t get it. My first akuma attack, I sobbed in an alley because I was so scared and anxious. I’m just barely getting my life started here and my French is still not up to par with everyone else’s. Basically, I’ve got a lot going on right now and there’s no way I can be Ladybug.”

Tikki took a seat on the coffee table. “I understand you’re scared, but you wouldn’t have received this Miraculous unless we were sure you were absolutely capable. You have the potential to be a great hero, (Y/N). It’s all a matter if you’re willing to.”

She stared at Tikki for a long time. Someone out there believed that she could be a good hero. Correction: someone out there believed she could be a good Ladybug. They had faith in her, even if she didn’t have faith in herself. And as much as she believed them to be crazy, (Y/N) had to accept that maybe a small part of her believed that she could be a hero, too. She could help people. She could save people and make a difference in their lives. She could do everything that she had been beating herself up over for weeks.

“What if I’m not good at it?” Tikki smiled.

“You’ll have me to help you.”

With a nod, (Y/N) took the earrings into her hand and put them on, glancing at herself in the reflective surface of the coffee table. In the box, they had been red with black spots, but now they were only black. “Whenever you need to transform, just say: ‘Tikki, spots on!”

“And I do that when there’s an akuma, right?” Tikki nodded. “Okay.” She inhaled a deep breath. “Okay, cool. I can handle this.” She felt like she was lying to herself. But her phone buzzed loudly, indicating a city-wide notification of an akuma attack. (Y/N) exchanged a shocked look with Tikki before darting off to her room.

The kwami followed her. “I wasn’t expecting for this to happen so soon!” (Y/N) exclaimed. At least her bedroom had a balcony for her to exit from. Couldn’t exactly ride down the elevator as Ladybug.

“Practice makes perfect!” Tikki said with a smile. “You’re going to do great!” (Y/N) furrowed her brows in worry before sighing.

“Alright, let’s get this over with. Tikki, spots on!”

The kwami disappeared into her earrings, which started the transformation process. (Y/N) hadn’t been expecting anything (she hadn’t had time to, really), but the sheer rush of what could only be described as magic flowed through her. It took the breath from her lungs in an exhilarating sort of way as this warmth moved through her limbs. By the time it was over, (Y/N) could feel a newfound sense of confidence and adrenaline coursing in her veins.

She sneaked a glance at herself in the reflection of the balcony doors. Her suit was the familiar red with black spots, but the main differences were in the long black gloves that reached her elbows, as well as the black boots that reached her mid-thigh. Her hair was still tied back in long pigtails and her mask, as well as the yo-yo, remained. It was just different enough that it felt like hers.

With Tikki no longer present to be a comforting voice, (Y/N) had to rely on her newfound faith in herself to be able to leap from her balcony railing. She flung her yo-yo forward until it connected with something—what it was, she wasn’t sure—and let herself swing forward off of the building. And to her excitement, she only screamed just a little on the way down.

Chapter Text

(Y/N) had learned rather quickly during her time in Paris that the best way to determine where an akuma attack was, was to see where everyone else was running away from. Presently, the residents of the city were evacuating its center, close to where Marinette and her family lived. (Y/N’s) stomach dropped. She hoped they were okay.

She landed on a rooftop. Maneuvering the yo-yo had taken some getting used to and she was nowhere near close to perfecting it, or her landings. She dropped into an unintentional roll, landing flat on her back.

Her eyes scanned the crowds, but (Y/N) had yet to discover where the akumatized villain was. She soon found her answer as hot lava crept across the streets. A person entirely encased in magma rode atop it, shooting rocks into the sides of cars and buildings. Hawk Moth seemed to be raising the stakes.

“It’s not every day I find two akumas by myself,” Chat Noir drawled from behind her. (Y/N) turned to see him leaning against his staff, his tail flicking curiously from side to side. “You the Shark Girl to his Lava Boy?”

“No!” (Y/N) insisted, quickly rising to her feet and nearly stumbling over them in the process. “I’m not akumatized, I promise! I have the Ladybug Miraculous and I—”

“See, that’s how I know you’re an akuma, because there’s only one Ladybug. She’s a little late, but she’ll be arriving soon.”

“No, I promise, I’m telling the truth!” Chat tsked, swiping his staff and knocking her onto her back. “Ow!” (Y/N) sat up and glared at him. “I understand your apprehension toward talking to me, but if you’d just listen—”

“Your suit’s a little different from hers,” Chat admitted. “Good replica, though. Where’s your akuma?” He reached for her earrings, but (Y/N) rolled to the side and hopped to her feet. Thankfully, the Miraculous added some agility to her step. She held out her hands in front of her as if to warn Chat to stay back.

“There’s no akuma!” Chat furrowed his brows and launched a kick at her. (Y/N) dodged with a squeak, rolling further away from him. “I don’t want to fight you! If you let me talk, I can explain!” He swung his staff and she leapt backward, surprised to find that she landed on her feet. This Miraculous thing was pretty cool.

(Y/N) whirled her yo-yo in front of her to form a shield and block his continuous attacks. She wracked her brain for the videos of Ladybug that Alya had taken. What sort of moves did she use?

He made a risky move and punched through her shield, her yo-yo wrapping around his arm. (Y/N) pulled down, sending Chat to the ground. She stepped on his chest. “I don’t want your Miraculous!” Her chest heaved with exhaustion.

“Are you a Sentimonster?” He grabbed at her ankle and yanked, sending her flying forward. She landed on her hands and knees but not before she slid across the shingles. (Y/N) was suddenly very thankful for the suit, otherwise her injuries would have been much worse.

As Chat Noir tried his best to subdue her, (Y/N) became more and more anxious about the growing chaos that was happening below them. Thoughts ran through her head on how to defeat the villain, who coined himself ‘The Eruptor’ (which (Y/N) thought was a rather poor choice in villain names), and also how to dodge Chat’s attacks. He wasn’t trying to hurt her, but she could tell that he was growing increasingly frustrated with his inability to stop her.

With a sigh, he leapt onto a chimney and pulled out the cell phone part of his staff. He dialed and (Y/N’s) yo-yo started to ring. “Hi,” She answered quietly.

“Milady, there’s—” Chat started to say, but he watched as (Y/N) held the phone to her ear. Her heart nearly broke as the startling realization settled across his face. He was like her, in a way, where all of his emotions could be seen in his facial expressions. She saw the hurt, the anger, but worst of all, she saw the hardening of himself. The usually playful Chat Noir was no more.

He dropped back to the ground and shoved his staff against her chest, pressing her against the back wall of one of the apartment buildings. “How did you do this? What did you do to her?” Chat demanded hoarsely. Their faces were only inches apart and (Y/N) could feel the raw emotion radiating off of him.

“I didn’t do anything,” (Y/N) said. “I found the box in my stuff and when I opened it, Tikki—” Chat pressed a hand over her mouth, which (Y/N) didn’t care for one bit. She bit down on his palm.

“Ouch!” He exclaimed, practically jumping backward and shaking his hand. (Y/N) placed her own hands on her hips.

“Serves you right for attacking me when we should be saving the city,” She snapped. “Look, if I knew anything, I’d tell you, but I don’t.” She glanced down at the havoc that was still happening. “We can talk about it after, if you want, but I think what we really need to do right now is—”

He didn’t wait for her to finish. Cutting her off seemed to be his hobby of choice today. Chat leapt off the rooftop and landed on the street below, just a few feet away from the Eruptor. With a sigh, (Y/N) followed.

“Chat Noir,” The Eruptor growled. “Lady—”

“She’s not Ladybug,” Chat snapped at the villain. (Y/N) glanced at him before turning back to the Eruptor.

“Names aren’t important anyway,” The Eruptor growled before (Y/N) could speak. “Give me your Miraculous.”

“You see, I totally would,” (Y/N) said as she walked toward him. The lava was just a few inches away from her. “Except we kind of need them. It’s part of the whole saving Paris ordeal. How’s Hawk Moth supposed to get attention without us?” In response, The Eruptor growled and shot a miniature boulder right at her. (Y/N) was still getting used to her increased agility, so she couldn’t move out of the way in time. The boulder collided with her stomach and sent her flying into a bus. She collapsed to the ground with the wind knocked out of her.

It took her a few minutes to gain her bearings. By the time she returned to Chat and the Eruptor, Chat was relentlessly beating against the villain’s magma shell with his staff. (Y/N) didn’t need Miraculous powers to figure out that he was taking his anger out on the villain.

“Watch it!” Chat shouted, just as another boulder came barreling toward her. He leapt into the air and swung at the rock with his staff, sending it flying back toward the Eruptor. It collided with the villain, but it only seemed to make his powers grow. “Can you at least try not to get yourself killed?” Chat snapped, before running back toward the fight.

(Y/N) wasn’t exactly sure what to do, so she tossed her yo-yo into the air like she had seen Ladybug do, and shouted, “Lucky Charm!” Into her hands fell a fire extinguisher. (Y/N) looked around to see what she could do with it. Perhaps the cold would put out The Eruptor’s heat? She pointed the extinguisher at the villain, but her aim was poor, and she ended up covering Chat in the white foam instead.

He narrowed his green eyes at her. “Sorry!” She shouted to him. She was really bombing this whole first impression thing.

(Y/N) looked around for another solution and found one of the fire hydrants on the street. She had seen videos of lava cooling once it hit water, so it was worth a shot. She tossed her yo-yo toward the hydrant and pulled it from the ground, causing a stream of water to go shooting up into the air. It soaked both the Eruptor and Chat Noir, but it stalled the former just enough for (Y/N) to dart through the steam and go to the glowing section of the middle of his chest. She punched into it and a loose piece of rock fell out as well as a purple butterfly, which fluttered upward into the sky.

The Eruptor changed back into a little boy with a volcano science experiment and a fifth-place ribbon. (Y/N) captured the akuma in her yo-yo and debated on what to say. She settled for the classic, “Bye-bye little butterfly,” as homage to her predecessor. She threw the fire extinguisher into the air and shouted, “Miraculous Ladybug!” and watched in marvel as her own butterflies rectified everything that had gone wrong because of the akumatized villain.

Once the little boy was safe with his parents, (Y/N) was bombarded with members of the press. They shoved microphones into her face and asked her questions at such a rapid pace that she wasn’t sure where one sentence began and another one ended.

“Who are you?”

“What happened to Ladybug?”

“Are there two Ladybugs to protect Paris?”

“Will you and Chat Noir be working together from now on?”

The flashing lights and loud voices disoriented (Y/N). She lifted a hand to block her eyes from the flashes and leaned forward to speak into the closest microphone. She knew she couldn’t give too much away; partially because she barely knew anything, and partially because she didn’t want to give anyone any clues into finding the previous Ladybug. “I can assure you that I will follow in Ladybug’s footsteps and protect Paris like she would have wanted.”

(Y/N) glanced upward to find Chat leaping away from the scene. She frowned. Perhaps they would talk another day.

“What’s your name?” One reporter asked, bringing (Y/N) back to the real world. (Y/N) turned to them and looked straight into their camera.

“You can call me Coccinelle,” She said, and the smile that crept on her face was one of pure excitement.

Her earrings started to beep. Although she wasn’t sure what that meant, she figured it was best if she got out of there. “It’s been great talking to you all, but I have to go!”

She flung her yo-yo forward and launched herself away, jumping from rooftop to rooftop until she landed on her balcony. Her landing was once again rather poor, and she rolled through her open door and transformed back to her normal self as she sprawled on the floor.

Tikki returned, landing in (Y/N’s) hands with an exhausted sigh. “That was wild!” (Y/N) exclaimed as she sat up. “I mean, it was crazy! I can’t believe I actually beat an akumatized villain!”

“Well, it wasn’t your first one,” Tikki reminded her, and (Y/N’s) face grew hot as she remembered her encounter with Frozer. She hadn’t considered that to be a victory; rather a simple stroke of luck. “Do you have anything sweet to eat?” The kwami asked. “I need to have food in order to restore our powers.”

“Oh, of course!” (Y/N) jumped to her feet and walked to the kitchen. “What do you like? I have cookies, croissants, macarons—”

“Macarons would be perfect, thank you,” Tikki nestled herself into the crook of (Y/N’s) thumb. (Y/N) held her gently as she grabbed a small plate for the kwami and placed many differently flavored macarons. She set Tikki down next to it and watched as she ate.

“Did the previous Ladybug not tell Chat Noir about any of this?” (Y/N) questioned as soon as it appeared that Tikki’s hunger had been satisfied. Tikki shut her lips tightly. “Oh. You can’t tell me that either?”

“I have to protect the identity of the previous Miraculous holder,” Tikki sighed. (Y/N) nodded.

“I get that, it’s just that he seemed really upset about it.” She pursed her lips as she thought. “Is there any way for you to talk to him?”

Tikki thought about it for a moment. “I suppose I can work something out to help him understand.” (Y/N) grinned.

“That’s great, Tikki. I really want Chat and I to be a good team.” (Y/N) popped a macaron in her mouth and discussed the happenings of the fight with Tikki. She hoped to gain a better understanding on where she could improve, while also building a relationship with the small creature.

When (Y/N) woke the next morning, she was sure that the events of the previous day had only been a dream. But as she turned over to find a little red being asleep on one of her pillows, she found that she had been mistaken. Quietly, (Y/N) moved to the bathroom to start getting ready for school.

As she checked her notifications, she noticed that all of social media was alight with talks of the new hero that had seemingly replaced Ladybug. Some comments were kind, others weren’t. (Y/N) locked her phone before she could get too distracted by the unkind ones.

Even as she entered class with Tikki tucked away in her backpack pocket, her classmates were buzzing with excitement over the events of the akuma attack. (Y/N) stopped by Alya and Marinette’s desk to talk about it.

Alya seemed to be in a tizzy over it. Her hair was unbrushed and she looked like she hadn’t gotten any sleep the night before. “It just doesn’t make sense! Where did the old Ladybug go? How did the Miraculous get transferred to Coccinelle? Was Chat Noir in on it?” She kept repeating questions, but it didn’t seem like she was actually asking (Y/N) or Marinette.

“I can’t believe it either,” (Y/N) said with a shake of her head. The one good thing about having the Miraculous was that she was already hiding a huge secret from her friends. What did one more matter? “I hope Ladybug’s okay.”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Marinette said dismissively, waving her hand. “I mean, Coccinelle did great yesterday! Maybe the old Ladybug thought it was time to retire.”

“After only a year?” Alya shook her head, typing furiously into her phone.

“Alya, maybe give the Ladyblog a break, eh?” Nino asked, reaching for her phone. She glared at him as if he had suggested stealing it. “Or not. That’s totally fine too.”

Adrien walked into the classroom then, also looking worse for wear. He looked like his typical model self, but the dark circles under his eyes indicated that he might have had a rough night. He gave his friends a tight smile as he sat down.

“Everything alright, dude?” Nino asked, also taking in Adrien’s appearance.

“For sure,” Adrien said with a nod. “I just didn’t get much sleep last night.”

(Y/N) placed her coffee cup on his desk. “Take this. It’s my second cup and I’ve barely touched it. It’s yours, as long as you don’t mind my germs.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Adrien breathed as he took a sip.

“Were you up all night looking over the Coccinelle mystery, too?” Marinette teased. (Y/N) watched as Adrien frowned for just a moment, before turning back to his friends.

“No, I honestly didn’t hear about it until this morning. I just had a hard time getting to sleep.”

“A warm cup of tea always helps me,” Nino suggested, which caused the rest of the group to give him a confused look. “What? I’m a man of many tastes.”

“It has to be the real thing,” Alya mused to herself. “Or else her suit wouldn’t look so different.” As Madame Bustier entered the classroom, (Y/N) placed a hand on Alya’s shoulder.

“If you need the number of a therapist,” She said with a smile, “Let me know.” Alya stuck her tongue out at her and (Y/N) laughed as she moved up the stairs to her desk.

Their class passed by slowly, each student eager to continue the conversation about the new hero. (Y/N) grew antsy as she sat in her seat. She could hear the excited whispers of her classmates floating around the room whenever Madame Bustier’s back turned. She glanced down at her backpack, where Tikki’s face could be seen poking out of its pocket. The kwami gave her a smile. For the first time in a long time, (Y/N) felt excited for what was ahead.

Her mood was bright when she met Adrien at the bottom of the steps, and was disappointed to find that he had yet to recover from his sleepless night. She frowned, concern creeping up from her stomach. “You doing alright?”

Adrien looked up in surprise, as if he hadn’t noticed that she was there. His smile spread slowly across his face. “Just tired,” He said as he zipped up his bag.

“Is it your turn to fake an illness?” She questioned. “Stomach flu is always a good option. I think I have some concealer in my bag to make you look even more sickly.” He laughed, but only slightly. (Y/N) tried talking to him as they walked to their class, but was met with short sentences that lacked the proper avenue for conversation. Most might chalk it up to Adrien being tired, but (Y/N) had the feeling that there was something else on his mind. She also figured that if Adrien wanted to talk about it, he would, so they fell into a semi-comfortable silence as they took their seats beside each other.

(Y/N) had been sketching out the rough outline of an apple when an overhead siren blared, indicating that there was an akuma attack happening nearby. “Everyone just stay calm,” Their teacher said as the students looked around with panicked expressions.

“According to the alert,” Max said as he stood up, “The akuma is just one street over from our school and heading this way at approximately 35 miles per hour, meaning that it will reach us in just about—”

“That’s enough, Max,” The teacher insisted. “I’m sure the proper authorities are on their way.”

“Yeah, Ladybug and Chat Noir will save us,” Rose cheered, ever the optimist. Chloe scoffed in response.

“I think you mean Coccinelle, the new loser that replaced Ladybug.”

Throughout this conversation, (Y/N) was trying to think of a way to get out of the classroom without anyone noticing. She turned to look at Adrien, but was surprised to find him already gone, the classroom door swinging in his absence. In one swift motion, (Y/N) lifted her bag over her shoulder and ran out of the room.

She darted into a nearby girls’ bathroom and dropped her bag to the ground. She had nearly called out Tikki until she heard the familiar scuffle of shoes against school tile. Turning her head, (Y/N) saw a familiar pair of flats walking out of one of the stalls. “Marinette?”

Said girl jumped, nearly tripping on her feet as she stumbled over to the sinks. “(Y/N)? What are you doing here? I thought you’d be, um—in art class!”

“I was,” (Y/N) said, trying to formulate a lie in her head. “But I, uh, needed to use the bathroom, so.” She shrugged and smiled. “I’m a little pee shy, so if you don’t mind…”

“Oh! Of course!” Marinette hurriedly washed her hands and gave (Y/N) a smile as she walked past her. It was then that (Y/N) noticed the absence of Marinette’s signature black earrings, ones that looked strikingly similar to the ones she currently wore.

(Y/N) grabbed Marinette’s wrist. “Wait! What happened to your earrings?”

“My earrings?” Marinette repeated, lifting her fingers to her ears. “Oh! Those earrings. I must’ve lost them. You know me, always so clumsy!”

(Y/N) shook her head. “You’ve had those earrings on since I’ve met you. You never take them off. And then yesterday—” (Y/N) gasped. “You got my bag together for me, in the library. That’s how they got in my bag!”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” Marinette said, but her face was reddening quickly. “I heard there’s an akuma attack, though, so we’d better get back to class.” She pulled her hand from (Y/N’s) grasp and gave her a smile. “Good luck!”

Marinette left the bathroom, leaving (Y/N) and Tikki alone. The girl stared at the kwami. “Am I right? Was Marinette the one that put those earrings in my bag?”

Tikki opened her mouth to speak, but then promptly shut it. (Y/N) was glad to have a piece of this mystery solved, but how was Marinette involved in all of this? How did Marinette get ahold of Ladybug’s earrings?

(Y/N) felt like an idiot. It was obvious. Marinette was Ladybug.

The akuma attack lasted longer than it should have due to two things. The first was that (Y/N) was so distracted by her revelation in the girls’ bathroom that she was out of focus. The akumatized villain used this to their advantage and shot everything they could at her. It was like they anticipated her every move, because whenever she went to attack, they dodged. The only one who seemed to gain any leverage against their opponent was Chat.

And Chat was the second reason the fight had taken so long. He and (Y/N) were far from being the well-oiled machine that he and Ladybug once were. If (Y/N) shouted a suggestion, he completely ignored it, in turn deciding to attempt his own ways of defeating the villain. This infuriated (Y/N) so much that she also started ignoring him. The two heroes got in each other’s path more than necessary, sometimes inhibiting the other from making moves.

After the fight was done, (Y/N) landed on the same rooftop as Chat Noir, stalking over to him with her hands curled into tight fists. Her therapist had suggested that she take deep breaths before speaking when angry, but (Y/N) thought to hell with her therapist and to hell with deep breaths. “What is your problem?” She demanded. His back was turned to her as he rested on his staff. “Anything I did today, you were in my way. This isn’t how a team is supposed to be!”

“We’re not a team,” Chat said, finally turning to face her. “You think you can come here and have everything work out for you immediately, but do you want to know what I see? I see a stubborn, naïve girl who somehow got her hands on a Miraculous and wants to play superhero. But you’re not a hero.”

“I know I’m new at this, but I’m trying to get the hang of it. You think I just asked for the Miraculous? I don’t know why I was even chosen for this, but I’m trying to do my best, and you won’t let me.”

Chat hopped off of his staff and walked toward her, his palm extended. “Then give it to me.”

“Excuse me?”

“You said it yourself, you don’t even know why you were chosen for this. Hawk Moth is getting too powerful for some newcomer to come in and try to replace Ladybug.”

“I’m not trying to replace her! And I’m not giving you my Miraculous!” (Y/N) shook her head. “I can tell that you’re angry at Ladybug, but you’re taking it out on me for no reason.”

“For no reason? You’ve nearly gotten yourself killed during both the akuma attacks you’ve tried to handle. You’re not ready for this.”

“And you get to decide that?” (Y/N) narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t have to like me, but for the sake of Paris, we have to be partners—”

“Ladybug,” Chat snapped. “Is my partner. You are nothing to me.”

His words struck (Y/N) harder and deeper than she had expected them to. Her entire body stiffened. “Look. I hold the Ladybug Miraculous. I was chosen—”

“I don’t know who chose you to be the new Miraculous holder, but they made a mistake.”

She set her jaw. He had no right to speak to her that way. She was learning. She was trying. He should be helping her, not putting her down! “I understand you’re hurting, but this isn’t helping anyone. This is going to be the first and last time you ever talk to me like this.”

Chat glared down at her. “Is that a threat?”

(Y/N) glared back. “Yes.”

He left then, and (Y/N) made her way back to school. She took her seat in art once more, sketching in silence as her anger dwindled into hurt.

Chapter Text

God, Marinette was so screwed.

Despite the still cool spring weather, she was sweating as she walked home. Alya and Nino had invited her to go to the arcade with them once school was finished, but she had refused. After her conversation with (Y/N) in the bathroom, there was absolutely no way that Marinette could be in the proper headspace for gaming.

To any normal person, it wouldn’t seem like anything odd had happened during the exchange. (Y/N) had asked about Marinette’s earrings and Marinette had played dumb. Rather poorly, she thought, considering that she had told her “Good luck!” Good luck with what, Marinette? She had chided herself. Peeing?

Everyone was so used to scrambled, scatter-brained, anxious, and awkward Marinette, except for (Y/N). Sometimes strangers were the best at seeing the truth in another person because there were no predispositions that held them back. (Y/N) and Marinette certainly weren’t strangers, but (Y/N) had little bias toward her compared to her other friends. Marinette had watched as the realization had hit her friend’s eyes. She wasn’t sure what, but (Y/N) knew something. And that could mess things up tremendously.

Marinette was so lost in thought that she had nearly walked right past Luka as she entered the bakery. It was only when she caught a whiff of his cologne (a mixture of those midnight candles that Marinette loved to shove her face in at the wax shops, as well as cinnamon) that she stopped in her tracks and turned around. “Luka!” She exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“You told me to meet you here after school?” His brows furrowed as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Unless I read your text wrong—”

“No!” Marinette felt like she was always shouting. “No, sorry, I remember now. My brain is just a little…” She drew squiggles in the air to emphasize her headspace.

“Rough day at school?” His face fell, the normally upwards corners of his mouth turning down. Marinette’s heart squeezed. Luka was homeschooled, unlike his twin sister. They had been in different classes, but those kids had been far crueler to Luka as they were growing up. Marinette remembered Juleka crying over it at their sleepovers. When it was time for them to enter high school, Luka had made the decision to continue his studies at home.

His expression made Marinette realize that he was worried about her. She had complained to him about Chloe dozens of times, but she was more of a nuisance than anything. Marinette inhaled a deep breath and tried to make herself appear less rigid.

“No, school was fine,” She assured him. “I’m a little all over the place.” Because (Y/N) might have figured out her secret identity. Marinette smiled up at him. “You wanna come up? We can watch that movie you were telling me about.”

Luka’s smile was small and lazy, but Marinette knew it was genuine. She led him upstairs. “Do you wanna tell me why you’re all over the place today?” He asked as Marinette made them popcorn—over the stove, because that was the best way to do it, according to her father.

It was Marinette’s first instinct to bat away her emotions, but she reminded herself that she was trying with Luka. And part of being in a relationship (she had heard from magazine articles) was open and honest communication. Marinette couldn’t be completely honest with him, because it would open a ginormous can of worms, but she could at least try.

“I’m worried about (Y/N),” she admitted. Because she truly was. Sometimes Marinette wondered if she had made the right decision. Not because she didn’t think (Y/N) was capable of being Ladybug, or Coccinelle, but because (Y/N) also had a lot going on in her life. She had lost her father and moved to a completely different place. Had it been fair of Marinette to thrust this responsibility upon her?

“Why?” Luka pressed. He hadn’t formally met (Y/N), aside from the Frozer incident, but he knew enough about her from what Marinette had shared.

“I hope she’s adjusting well,” She told Luka as the popcorn popped. “She’s in a completely new place and she doesn’t really have anyone.” There was also the matter of recovering from witnessing her father’s death, but she wouldn’t share that with anyone. Not even Luka. (Y/N) had put that faith in her and she didn’t want to risk their friendship.

“She has you,” Luka pointed out, and Marinette felt her face flush. “I’m sure she’s doing fine, Marinette. Big adjustments take a while to get used to. As long as she’s grounded by her friends, she’ll be alright.”

Marinette snorted as she dumped her popcorn into a bowl. “How’d you become so wise?”

“Natural instinct, I suppose.” His eyes met hers and sometimes Marinette felt like Luka could stare right into her soul. “It says a lot about how good you are that you’re so worried about her, Marinette. But you need to put your well-being first occasionally.”

Sheepishly, Marinette nodded, and they headed to the couch to watch their movie.

It was nearing eight o’clock at night when Luka finally left the Dupain-Cheng residence. They had watched their movie, then Marinette’s parents insisted that he stay for dinner. She had only gotten to check her phone when she retired to her room for the night.

The kwamis didn’t leave the Miraculous Box when she entered the room, so she figured they were living it up in their own little dimension. She scrolled through her notifications as she sat at her desk to get started on her homework. There were a few messages from her groupchat with Nino and Alya about what their plans were for the weekend and whether or not she and Luka wanted to come, multiple different news articles about Coccinelle, and a message from (Y/N), way at the bottom.

(Y/N): can i come over so we can talk?

Marinette’s stomach sunk. That message had been sent right after she had gotten out of school. Marinette had been so distracted by her thoughts, then Luka, that she hadn’t even noticed it. (Y/N) must have thought that she was ignoring her! She typed her message back.

MARINETTE: Omg I’m so sorry!! Luka and I hung out once I got home and I completely missed this text!!!

(Y/N) replied almost immediately.

(Y/N): that’s totally fine. i hope you guys had a good time! i still think we should talk, whenever you get the chance.

(Y/N): in person.

Every bit of Marinette was nervous sweating. Her palms, the backs of her knees, even her ears, and she didn’t think ears could sweat! She started typing.

MARINETTE: Sure thing!! Maybe sometime tomorrow!!

Marinette chucked her phone onto her bed, trying to focus on her history paper instead of how royally she had messed everything up.

The next day, Marinette was sure that there was some divine being smiling down at her, because the day was busy. She had gotten to school just a few minutes before the bell rang, so there was no way for (Y/N) to talk to her before their first class of the day. Madame Bustier had them all work on their papers for the duration of the class, so there was very little talking that could happen. Then, Marinette headed to chemistry while (Y/N) went to art. It was there that Marinette remembered that she had signed up to help a few students with their English lessons during the lunch period, so she didn’t see (Y/N) then, either. By the time all of the students returned to Madame Bustier’s class, Marinette could feel (Y/N’s) eyes boring into the back of her head.

It wasn’t like she was actively trying to avoid her. For once, Marinette’s busy schedule actually worked in her favor. It gave her more time to get her story straight. Would she come clean to (Y/N)? After all, she was the Guardian of the Miraculous, and (Y/N) held the Ladybug Miraculous. The two of them should be a team. But Marinette knew that (Y/N) was too inquisitive and noticed too many things. How would she be able to keep the necessary secrets from her?

As the final bell rung, Marinette rushed to pack her things into her bag. Again, not trying to avoid (Y/N), but if she just so happened to get out of class before she did, that wasn’t her fault, right? But when Marinette looked up, (Y/N) was standing right beside her, a pleasant look on her face despite the frustration she must have been feeling.

“Hi!” (Y/N) said. “I didn’t get to see you much today. We missed you at lunch.”

Marinette felt her face redden from embarrassment, although she wasn’t sure why. “Yeah, I had to tutor some students in English. You should really sign up, we could use a fluent speaker to make sure things are correct.”

“Ooh, maybe.” (Y/N) cocked her head to the side. “Would you mind if I walked back to the bakery with you? I’ve been craving a raspberry scone like nobody’s business.”

Marinette smiled, although it was tight and tense. “Sure! I actually think my dad made some fresh this morning, so what great timing!”

The two friends walked down the steps and out of the classroom, waving goodbye to their other friends as they all went their separate ways. Marinette couldn’t help but note how weird it felt, between her and (Y/N). She felt like she was in one of those old-timey cop movies, where the detectives put the lightbulb right into the crook’s face. (Y/N) was shining a huge lightbulb on Marinette and she still wasn’t sure whether or not she should stick to her guns and try lying or tell her friend everything.

They were nearly halfway to the bakery when (Y/N) finally spoke. “I know you’re the one who put the earrings into my bag.” Her eyes met Marinette’s wide ones. “I’m not upset, I just want to know why. Or how, I guess.”

“Well, you walked away, and I—”

“Not the literal how,” (Y/N) huffed. “You know what I mean.” And Marinette did. (Y/N) wanted to know how this all happened. Ladybug, the kwamis, everything.

“We’ll go up to my room once we get back,” Marinette said. “This isn’t a good place to talk about everything.”

True to her word, Marinette led (Y/N) up to her room once they arrived at her house. They had about seventeen-billion scones in hand. Once (Y/N) had mentioned she liked the pastry, her parents had gone completely overboard.

(Y/N) made herself comfortable on the floor, taking a bite of her raspberry scone. She looked up expectantly at Marinette. As Marinette looked at her, she realized that everything she had feared was completely absent from (Y/N’s) face: anger, confusion, and hurt. Marinette had been terrified that her friend would be mad at her for giving her the Ladybug Miraculous. Instead, (Y/N) just looked…curious. And this calmed Marinette down significantly.

She inhaled a deep breath, sitting across from (Y/N) on the floor. She took a bite out of an orange scone. “I have to keep you on a need-to-know basis,” Marinette said. “Both for your safety and for mine. Is that okay with you?” (Y/N) nodded, so Marinette continued.

“Yes, I gave you the Ladybug Miraculous.” Truth. “But I’m not Ladybug.” A lie. Just a teensy one. “I’m the Guardian of the Miraculous. I present others with the Miraculous when it’s deemed appropriate.”

(Y/N) nodded. She was following. “But…why give me the Miraculous? What happened to the old Ladybug? How did you become Guardian?” Marinette pressed her lips tightly together. “Oh. Right. Need to know.”

“What I can tell you,” Marinette said, “Is that I saw the qualities of Ladybug in you. Strength, courage, and kindness. I can’t think of anyone else it should have gone to.” Truly, she couldn’t.

(Y/N) nodded. “Why’d you lie? When we talked in the bathroom?”

“I was hoping that we’d have more time before you needed to find me,” Marinette admitted. “I thought it would be weird, finding out that your friend had made you into a superhero.”

“It was,” (Y/N) said, but she cracked a smile. “But I can’t say I hate it. Helping people feels nice. Even when I can’t help myself.”

Her last statement tugged on Marinette’s heart. She truly had no idea what was floating around in (Y/N’s) head. “That’s good,” was all Marinette could say. “I’m actually glad you found out. I don’t know how I would’ve kept that secret from you for so long.”

“I’m glad, too,” (Y/N) said. “I was worried that I’d be alone in all of this but I’m glad I have you.” Whether (Y/N) meant that in the context of the Miraculous or of life, Marinette wasn’t sure, but both thoughts brought prickles to the backs of her eyes.

“Well, you have Chat Noir too,” Marinette said as she found another croissant to eat. Her eyes were so trained on the spread before them that she had missed the look of dread that passed across (Y/N’s) face.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) said tightly. “Yeah, I have him too.”

Chapter Text

Although Marinette couldn’t tell her much, (Y/N) was grateful that she wasn’t crazy. She stayed over at Marinette’s for dinner (mostly because her parents insisted, but partly because whatever Mrs. Dupain-Cheng was cooking smelled amazing), then walked home just before the sun was starting to set. She said hello to the man at the front desk despite his inclination to ignore her. She supposed she wasn’t high enough on the social ladder to garner her attention.

(Y/N) called out a hello as she returned home but received no answer. She unzipped her bag and let Tikki fly out. “I’m so glad you and Marinette were able to work things out!” Tikki exclaimed.

“Yeah, me too,” (Y/N) agreed. She rummaged through the fridge for a soda. She was feeling a bit tired and full, but she still had a boatload of homework to do for class this week. “So, what does the Guardian do exactly?”

“The Guardian of the Miraculous watches over all of the Miraculouses, as well as their kwamis.”

“Like Queen Bee and Rena Rouge?” Tikki nodded.

“Those two Miraculouses are safe with Marinette. The only ones that are out in the world are me, Plagg, who is Chat Noir’s kwami, and Nooroo and Duusu.” Tikki’s tone changed ever so slightly as she discussed the last two kwamis.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nooroo and Duusu are being held captive by Hawk Moth,” Tikki told her. (Y/N) supposed it only made sense that her greatest enemy was also a Miraculous holder.

“How did he get his hands on the both of them?”

“No one knows. But he uses their powers for evil instead of good, just so he can get his hands on the Ladybug and Cat Miraculouses.”

“Why?”

“Those two are the most powerful Miraculouses of all. The power of creation and the power of destruction. If combined, they have the power to grant a wish, but its repercussions could have disastrous consequences!”

“Just like the two Miraculouses,” (Y/N) mused. It was likely that the Ladybug element of the combination answered the wish, while the Cat element caused these horrible consequences that Tikki spoke of. (Y/N) had known that Hawk Moth was bad simply because of all the destruction and fear he caused throughout the city. But she hadn’t anticipated that there was a deeper reasoning behind it all.

She thought about this as she walked back toward her room. She had nearly missed the stack of bound papers sitting on the coffee table. Upon closer examination, (Y/N) found that it was her aunt’s newest book. It was still untitled.

“Everyone always says how good of an author my aunt is,” (Y/N) told Tikki. “But I’ve never read any of her books. I didn’t even know she was a famous author until I moved here.” She sat on the couch and picked up the manuscript. “I think this is her newest one. From what I’ve heard, it’s highly anticipated.” (Y/N) moved to open it, but Tikki stopped her.

“What if she doesn’t want you to read it just yet?”

(Y/N) pursed her lips. “I think if she didn’t want me to read it, she wouldn’t have left it on the coffee table for me to see.” She cracked open the book and leaned back into the couch cushions. Homework could wait.

As she read, (Y/N) understood why everyone liked her aunt’s writing so much. Her words felt like woven thread, lacing the story together with each page. She was truly talented.

But as (Y/N) read on, a pit started to form in her stomach. There was something oddly familiar about the story, although she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. The main character, Emerie, was a teenaged girl who lived with her single father in London. (Y/N) supposed it was only natural for authors to draw parallels between their real lives and their work, but (Y/N) figured that was where the similarities between herself and Emerie ended. It wasn’t until chapter twenty when she realized how wrong she was.

I had never felt so frozen, Emerie narrated, as I did in that moment. My entire body had become as rigid as stone, and all I could do was watch. I felt trapped within my own brain. Fear will do that to a person. It will lock you down and make you watch as horrible, unspeakable things happened before your very eyes.

I had never dealt with muggers in the city before, but a few of my friends’ older siblings had. The consensus was that you gave them whatever they wanted, because money and credit cards were replaceable, but your life was not. It was something my father should have known, too, after fifteen years of living here, but there were some things so engrained in him that refused to change. The way he took his coffee in the morning. What tailor he took his clothes to. And how he was absolutely certain that he could reason with a man so desperate to take money from a single father and his child.

I wanted to tell him to let it go, to give the man what he wanted, but my throat was locked up.

I, much like my father, had assumed that the gun in the man’s pocket was fake. Probably his finger pointed to look like a gun. The more my father tried to reason with him, the angrier the man got, until he pulled the very-real gun from his pocket. A pistol, by the looks of it, but I didn’t know guns. Tears streamed down my face but I couldn’t even move to wipe them away. My hands balled into fists in the pockets of my own coat.

The gun was pointed at my father, but I couldn’t even beg for his safety or plead with the mugger. It felt like there wasn’t time, but also that time was passing by too slowly. I watched as the mugger’s finger leaned on the trigger and finally regained the ability to move. But instead of running, or pushing my father out of the way, my hands flew to my eyes to cover them.

I heard the gunshot, then a thud, then the thundering footsteps of the mugger running away. I peeled my hands from my face, but my father was no longer standing beside me. Instead, he lay on the ground, blood pooling in his favorite seafoam green shirt that he always wore whenever we went out together.

I dropped to my knees. Someone was screaming, and it was only later, after I had given my statement to the police, that I realized it had been me. I had been sobbing as more tears streamed down my face. My hands were soaked in blood as I tried to compress the wound, like I had seen so many times in all of those doctor television shows. I watched as my father tried to speak but I couldn’t hear what he was trying to say over the ringing in my ears from the gunshot, over the sound of my own sobs, of my heartbeat thundering in my head.

Despite the tears, I could see so clearly when he left his body. The jovial light was gone from his eyes. They stared up at absolutely nothing. I stared at everything that had been ripped away from me.

(Y/N’s) fingers gripped the pages of the manuscript so tightly that the thick stack was beginning to crease. She knew this story. She had lived this story. Had gone to therapy for this story. Had buried her own father because of this story.

And Marguerite was using it for profit?

The elevator doors open and shut and (Y/N) heard the familiar clacking of her aunt’s heels. (Y/N) felt Tikki dive into her jacket pocket. “(Y/N), I’ve been meaning to catch you. Your therapist says you’ve missed your last few virtual sessions. What’s that about?”

(Y/N) couldn’t answer. She felt like if she opened her mouth, she would scream.

“I need you to put in the work to get better, (Y/N),” Marguerite told her. “If you feel like you don’t need therapy anymore, then that’s fine, but after what’s happened these past few weeks—”

(Y/N) ripped the manuscript. Marguerite gasped at the sound of ripping paper, but (Y/N) didn’t care. Let them think that she had anger issues. Let them think she was out of control. She. Didn’t. Care.

She stood, whirling toward Marguerite and throwing the pieces at her. “You had no right. That story isn’t yours to tell. I didn’t even tell it to you; you got my statement from the police, didn’t you? Is this how you’ve made your fortune? Taking other people’s horrors and publishing them for profit?”

“(Y/N),” Marguerite started. “You don’t understand.”

“I don’t even know you!” (Y/N) screamed. “You’re never here, you barely check in to see how I’m doing after my own father—your brother—was murdered, and all you want is a check! You don’t get to take what happened to him, to me, and make millions off of it.” (Y/N) was crying now, hot, angry tears streaming down her face. “I try hard every day not to relive every single moment of that night and you want to plaster it on billboards and go on talk shows about it.”

(Y/N) shook her head. She was over it. She stormed past Marguerite. Not wanting to wait for the elevator and be in a room with her aunt for a single second more, she ran down the emergency stairs, knowing that Marguerite wouldn’t be able to keep up with her in those heels of hers.

How much of Marguerite’s success was due to (Y/N’s) troubles? Her father’s? Where was the line drawn?

The emergency exit let her out onto a road. It was late, and there were few passersby on the streets, which she was grateful for. The less people that knew that Marguerite Estrelle’s niece was only a breath away from losing it, the better.

Even Tikki remained silent as she walked, somehow understanding that (Y/N) needed this time to herself to let all of the anger bleed out of her, one step at a time. And it did, eventually, as (Y/N) rounded corners and turned onto side-streets. Her anger eventually turned only into hurt, and then the realization that she didn’t know where she was. She thought to her phone, which was probably still sitting on the couch where she had left it.

She had never been to this part of the city before. It was dimly lit, with no people on the sidewalks at all. Shops were dark, so she couldn’t pop in to ask anyone where she was. She turned around, trying to spot her apartment building looming over the city, but her clouds blocked the view.

(Y/N) heard a bottle crash in an alley and flinched, trying to walk quickly back the way she had come. Only, she didn’t know where that way was. She thought to the self-defense keychain that was sitting in her Amazon cart and wished that she had purchased it weeks ago. Sure, she was Coccinelle, and crime fighting was now part of her everyday routine, but (hypothetically, of course), what if some criminal tried to overtake her? She wasn’t certain she could defeat them without the added power of her Miraculous. Plus, she couldn’t transform in front of them and risk her secret identity!

(Y/N) opened her jacket pocket and saw Tikki staring up at her, a pleasant smile on her cute face. It eased (Y/N’s) nerves, just a bit. “You wouldn’t happen to know the way home, would you?”

Tikki shook her head. “You could always transform if you need to. I’m sure a higher vantage point would help you find your aunt’s building.”

But (Y/N) thought back to the conversation she had had earlier that day without Marinette. Her friend had reiterated multiple times that the Miraculous should never be used for personal gain. While she knew that this was a special circumstance, (Y/N) felt like she would be letting her friend down. Plus, the last thing she wanted was anyone tracking Coccinelle to Marguerite Estrelle’s apartment. Paparazzi practically camped out in front of their apartment building.

“No, transforming doesn’t feel right to me. I guess I needed to learn my way around Paris somehow. Plus, what if I run into Chat?” (Y/N) thought to their last conversation and the anger and hurt strengthened once more for a different reason. She tried to shake off the feeling. She needed to focus on getting herself back home.

“What would be so bad about running into me?” A voice said from above and (Y/N) screamed in response. Tikki stuffed herself back into her pocket and (Y/N) looked up, chest heaving with adrenaline.

Familiar bright green yes stared down at her, looking fairly amused at her reaction. He sat perched on the iron sign of one of the storefronts. With a flip, he landed right in front of her. “What’s my little Buttercup doing out all by herself?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and tilted her chin upward. “I’m just going home.” She turned on her heel, and Chat coughed.

“Um, isn’t your home in the other direction?”

(Y/N) stopped, gave Tikki a bewildered look, and turned around. “You know, it’s a little creepy that you know where I live.”

Chat seemed totally oblivious to her dig. “Like I said, Buttercup, I like to keep tabs on everything in the city. Even if I wasn’t Chat Noir, everyone knows that your aunt lives in the most luxurious apartment building in Paris.” He paused, gesturing over his shoulder. “Which is that way.”

She crossed her arms. She should be trying her hardest not to hold a grudge against him right now, or to at least seem like she wasn’t. She was (Y/N), not Coccinelle, and sometimes it was hard to remember that there was a difference. (Y/N) was on somewhat good terms with Chat Noir. Coccinelle and Chat were pretty much enemies.

Her skin crawled as she thought back to the way he had spoken to her. It had hurt, that he hadn’t even given her a chance before writing her off.

“Thanks for the tip,” (Y/N) mumbled, and she moved to walk past him. She cursed in English when he fell into step beside her. If Chat had heard, he said nothing about it.

“If you want, I could take you home,” He suggested. “It’s a lot quicker than walking.”

“No,” (Y/N) shook her head. “I need to walk.” She looked up at him, jaw set and brows furrowed in determination. “I have to learn how to get home on my own.”

“What about your GPS?” She sighed.

“I left my phone at home.”

“And money for a pay phone?”

“In my bag. At home.”

“No offense, Buttercup, but those things are pretty vital on a late night walk by yourself.”

“Yeah, well, when you’re storming out of your house to get away, you’re not exactly thinking of the necessities.” The words came out before she could think better of them and she turned her head so Chat couldn’t see her face. She hoped that he wouldn’t press her further.

“Regardless, it’s a good thing you have me to escort you home.”

“You’re not escorting me home.”

“Well, it seems like only one of use knows how to get to your building.” A smile curved on Chat’s face and (Y/N) frowned in response. “And I’d be a horrible hero if I let a damsel in distress walk home alone.”

“I’m not a damsel,” (Y/N) scoffed, but she knew she was definitely in distress. “But, fine. If you could show me how to get back home, that would be wonderful.”

“Will I get a thank you kiss for rescuing you?”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but snort. “Fat chance.”

Chat grinned, taking her hand in his to lead her down the street. (Y/N’s) first instinct was to yank her hand away, but she knew she needed him. As insufferable as he was, she knew he was her only hope at the moment.

“You know,” Chat started, “I think I like the feistier side of you.”

“I think you’ll like it a lot less when I punch you in the throat.” Chat barked out a laugh.

“You really are full of surprises, Buttercup.” He truly had no idea. 

Their walk took a leisurely pace, far different from (Y/N’s) normal speed-walking. Some of her friends back home had joked that there was no need to walk so fast everywhere, but it was her default setting. She had places to be!

“Paris is lovely at night, but I definitely recommend having a friend with you the next time you decide to go out.”

“I’m usually more responsible,” (Y/N) protested. “I just wasn’t thinking straight.”

“You could talk to me about it, if you want,” He told her, his tone softer. Much like it was the first time they had met, when he was trying to comfort her in the alley. “I’m pretty good at keeping secrets.”

(Y/N) thought about opening up to Chat. Coccinelle would never, but (Y/N) might. Before everything that had happened between them, (Y/N) had really liked Chat Noir. God, figuring out how to behave with him as (Y/N) and Coccinelle was going to split her brain in two.

(Y/N) shook her head. Opening up wasn’t worth it. Marinette already knew her secret, and if Marguerite continued with her book plans, soon all of Paris would, too. “It’s really not a big deal,” She lied.

They walked past a park (Y/N) recognized. Chat’s hand was still wrapped around hers. “What are you doing out, anyway? I haven’t heard anything about an akuma.”

“There isn’t an akuma. Sometimes I just patrol and make sure everything’s okay. It helps when I need to clear my head.” He smiled down at her. “I guess we’re both out for the same reasons. It’s lucky we found each other.”

Some luck. (Y/N) wondered if she was part of the reason his head needed clearing. She didn’t know what had transpired between him and the last Ladybug, but it was enough to make Chat hate her. Perhaps as a civilian, she could get a little information out of him.

“Speaking of luck, does Coccinelle patrol with you, too?” She felt Chat’s hand tighten around hers.

“No, she doesn’t. I’m sure she has some very important things to do.” His voice was as tight as his grip.

“I thought you guys were partners? That you always kept tabs on each other?”

“I wouldn’t call us partners.” The sinking feeling returned to her stomach. She already knew of Chat’s opinion of Coccinelle, but to have him confirm it to her made her feel even worse.

“It’s um, a good thing Paris has you guys.” His entire demeanor had changed just at the mention of her. He must really despise her.

Chat remained silent for a moment, looking straight ahead at the pavement before them. (Y/N) stared at him, at the curve of his jaw, the way his golden blond hair curled near his ears, how his nose sloped down with a slight button at the end. She wondered if he was like her, someone average who had gotten thrown into the superhero life.

“Thank you,” Chat said. He turned toward her and smiled so wide that his eyes squinted shut.

They arrived at her apartment building If (Y/N) were being honest, she hadn’t been paying close attention to the route Chat had been taking. She could hear the paparazzi and see the flashes of their bulbs from just around the corner.

“Do you think you could do me one more favor?” (Y/N) turned to him, looking up with wide eyes. Chat grinned.

“Anything for you, Buttercup,” He said, which caused her to roll her eyes. It was her turn to grab his hand at pull him around the side of the building. She pointed at her balcony.

“Can you get me there? Third one from the top?” He nodded, scooping her into his arms and hopping to and from the rooftops of different buildings.

(Y/N) squeaked. “You didn’t have to pick me up!”

“How else did you expect me to get you to your balcony? Throw you?” He was teasing and (Y/N) knew it and, despite their weird relationship, she smiled. She wished this was the Chat that saved the city with her. She wished that things were different between the two of them.

He reached the rooftop of the second tallest building next to hers. Using his staff, he shot them toward her balcony. He set her down gently as they landed. “Thank you.”

“So, this is where I can find you from now on?” He asked, looking over her shoulder at her bedroom.

“Try not to scare the crap out of me the next time you show up unannounced.” (Y/N) crossed her arms.

“So that’s a yes to a next time?” Chat quipped. (Y/N) felt her face redden, and for perhaps the millionth time that night, she rolled her eyes at him.

“Whatever.” She moved to enter her room from her balcony, but Chat let out a cough.

“I didn’t get a thank you kiss, but how about a goodnight one?”

(Y/N) laughed. “I don’t understand how you’re capable of saving the city when you’re trying to steal a kiss from everyone you rescue.”

“Not everyone,” Chat said with a roll of his own eyes. “Just the ones I like.” He winked at her.

(Y/N) surveyed him. She liked this Chat. Playful, flirty, and kind. But she knew that this wasn’t the only side to him. If he hadn’t said what he said the other day, she might have considered the possibility of kissing him.

“Goodnight, Chat.” With a small smile, she entered her bedroom. She scurried to her bathroom, just in case Chat lingered on her balcony.

She opened her jacket pocket once the bathroom door was shut, letting Tikki fly out. “He hates me, Tikki,” (Y/N) said immediately. “Did you notice how much he changed once I brought Coccinelle up?”

“I don’t think it’s anything personal,” Tikki reassured her. “Maybe his anger is just misdirected at you.”

(Y/N) frowned. “You’re probably right, but that’s not fair. Paris needs the both of us to work together to defeat Hawk Moth. How could I ever make that happen if he won’t even speak to me?”

“Maybe you guys could come to some sort of agreement?” Tikki offered. (Y/N) stepped back out into her bedroom to find that Chat Noir was gone. Between being Coccinelle, her relationship with Chat Noir, and the bombshell that had been dropped by her aunt, (Y/N) thought that maybe she should actually attend her therapy appointment this week.