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“Nino!” The DJ turns around when he hears his name, smiling shyly when he sees that it’s Marinette who has called for him.
“Oh, hey, Marinette. What’s up?” He hadn’t spoken to the girl much, considering how painfully shy the poor girl was, but he had always thought that she was incredibly sweet and kind.
“You dropped this.” She’s holding his history textbook out to him, and though he’s certain that he had put that in his backpack, he opened it to the first page and, sure enough, this is his.
“Thank you, Marinette. I appreciate it.” She smiles brightly and there’s a brief moment where Nino is overwhelmed by the depth of her eyes, as if the whole universe could be found inside them. He shakes his head and smiles back at her.
“Of course. You’re going to have a great day, Nino. Be sure to make the most of it.” Before he can ask what she means by that, she’s gone. He looks over to Alya, his girlfriend, who sits next to Marinette in class, but the girl shrugs.
“She’s an odd one, I’m not really sure what to say.”
He nods slowly, still watching her as she walks briskly away towards her parents’ bakery. “I suppose so.” But he can’t shake the feeling that something important just passed between him and the strange girl he’s known since childhood.
Nino finds the note that night, while doing his homework. Written in white ink on midnight blue paper, it simply gives a time (midnight) and an address (a park near his house). While he’d normally ignore something like this—it must be a prank—he can’t help but remember what Marinette had said just after school let out. Be sure to make the most of it. With those words ringing in his ears, Nino finds himself standing in a park at ten minutes until midnight.
He glances at his phone, just as it flips to midnight, and the bells of Notre Dame start ringing. That can’t be right? And then he’s not alone.
“Nino Lahiffe.” There’s a woman standing in front of him. He can’t see her face, hidden beneath the hood of a cloak as it is, and he can’t tell if she’s taller than him. He can’t tell anything about her, really, except that she is here, she is powerful, and she is talking to him.
Notre Dame continues to ring in the background, punctuating her presence with its chimes, scoring the scene with his its music. “This,” she says, with such great gravitas that he can’t help but feel as if he is being presented with a great treasure, “is the Miraculous of the Turtle, which grants the power of Protection. You will use it for the greater good in the battle against Hawkmoth, and when he is defeated, you will return it to me. Can I trust you?”
He stares at the bracelet she holds in her hand—her hand made of starlight, her cloak made of the night sky—and gapes. Everyone in Paris knows the word Miraculous. How could they not? It’s practically daily at this point that some monstrous akuma is attacking the city, screaming about Chat Noir’s Miraculous, calling for some ladybug who has never appeared. He looks back up at the woman. “Wha- why- who are you?”
She smiles and the light in the park seems to dim in comparison. “I am the Guardian, and I have chosen you to assist Chat Noir in his battle against Hawkmoth. If you accept, Wayzz will tell you all you need to know. Nino Lahiffe, can I count on you?”
He looks down at the bracelet once more and grins. “Yes, ma’am, Miss Guardian. You can count on me.” He takes the bracelet and fastens it around his wrist. The chimes of Notre Dame, the music of Paris, seems to build, covering him in its warmth. This is his city, and he has been chosen to protect it. When he turns to look up at the Guardian again, she is gone, and the chimes have stopped. Nino checks his phone. It’s still midnight in the empty park in the middle of Paris, and if he weren’t wearing the bracelet—the Miraculous, he reminds himself—he could almost believe nothing had happened. But it did. He grins and makes his way home.