Chapter Text
New Year's Eve
Age: 13
A flurry of vibrancy shimmered into Paris’ midnight sky like rainbow starlight, accompanied by an ear-shattering ‘boom’.
However, instead of the usual fear and panic that overcame Paris’ citizens upon hearing such a noise, the crackle that rumbled in the sky was instead met with sounds of excitement and glee.
Delighted Parisians released a chorus of cheers and joyous laughter that reverberated and buzzed through the chilled December air, and echoed down the city’s frosted cobbled streets. With the pure absence of any negativity and malice, no dreadful akuma fluttered down to disrupt the peace; not like it did on most days of that particular year, much to the torment and suffering of the residents of Paris.
It was truly a blessing in disguise that the not-so-festive akuma Santa Claws was quickly disposed of by Paris’ favourite miraculous superhero duo, Ladybug and Chat Noir. And for now, it seemed that Parisians could finally rest easy, sit back and enjoy the rest of the holiday season (no matter how short it may seem) and celebrate the rest of the season to their heart’s content without fearing the impending threat of any malicious purple butterflies roaming around the city in search of a tormented soul to corrupt.
The sky crackled with yet another explosive surge of its multicolour light, which elicited a few more cheers and childish giggles that echoed throughout the twinkling City of Love.
There were very few who were dismayed. After all, many a person and family were mostly expressing their joy over Hawkmoth’s recent thwarted akuma, and naturally, this meant perpetual happiness until the next person got their feelings fractured.
However, in the midst of all the laughter and cheer, it seemed as though not everyone shared the same sentiment of relief with the rest of Paris.
That one being Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
Dully looking down from where she was standing as a silent observer of it all was none other than the Parisian heroine herself, who was leaning against the iron railing of her balcony. The balcony, and by extension she, was illuminated by the gentle twinkling glow of her own brand of colourful ornament lights that were strewn on the awning above her. But unlike the soft angelic glow that the lights gave her, Marinette bore a heavy and morose expression that echoed a despair of great depths, and seemed too grave of a look on the 13-year-old girl.
She let out a tense sigh, her warm breath emerging as swirls of frozen mist in the frosty air, dancing like puffs of smoke before her eyes. It only slightly obscured the ascending flurry of fireworks that swam into the sky like colourful serpents followed with yet another 'bang' of explosive colours. Marinette grimaced slightly.
“Gosh. Have fireworks always been this loud?”
Ever since she took up the mantle as Ladybug, Marinette couldn't help but notice how a lot of seemingly harmless simple things in life were ruined for her. Although not enough to outright kickstart her fight or flight- Marinette still would've preferred that she didn't flinch awkwardly around objects she associated with "the akuma of the week". Like what she did with her handmade plush dolls following the stressful Puppeteer incident with Manon. As the same was with fireworks, and loud noises in general- she associated their familiar rumble with destruction and collateral damage, courtesy of the more violent akumas that they had to deal with recently.
Albeit, once upon a time, the fireworks may have incited an eager bloom of warmth to ignite in her chest- the kind of blooming warmth that was normally accompanied by a toothy grin or simple giggle of unadulterated happiness. But it seemed as though, just like the magic in her own civilian life, the joy that would’ve emerged from her after bearing witness to the fireworks that breathed life into the sky during New Years Eve- has too lost its magic.
It wasn’t as though Marinette bore any ill feelings or resentment towards New Years. In fact, it was very much the opposite for the chipper pigtailed-heroine. She adored New Years. The very nature of it screamed Marinette- who, annually participated in the globally renowned human tradition and deluded logic of starting anew. The prospect of a clean slate, an empty page, and most importantly a new chance to do everything again the right way- was a feeling that was much welcomed by the starry-eyed little girl she was.
It was one of the reasons why she kept a diary to document her life, with the pitfalls and triumphs of her childhood and as a means to reflect or look back on her past failings as a person- and now as a hero.
With that being said, her entries (as of late) haven’t really reflected well on her character and were really leaning on the side of her failings more than her successes not only in her civilian life but also on her hero alter ego. Ever since last week’s diary entry, it seemed to plague her thoughts and occupied every crevice of her mind with the kind of deep-seated dread that she hadn’t been able to shake off.
The guilt of last week’s events had left her feeling less than savoury, and ridden with a lot of remorse. It weighed upon her back, a hard and heavy burden that dug into her flesh, dark and brutal like sin and as fresh of a presence in her mind. Marinette knew that she never had a proper cap on her emotions; they were always either too much or not enough, and the former had the habit of steering her usually well-tempered judgement, causing her to act rashly. This was unfortunately the case with Santa Claws. Although the situation was resolved and reversed eventually thanks to the Miraculous Cure, it didn’t reverse the fact that Marinette had let her emotions get the better of her again which caused the akumatisation of another person.
This in turn, left the girl with a lot on her mind ever since.
It made her feel horrible that she had jumped to a dangerously wrong conclusion.
Sure, Tikki had assured her (after a good lecture) and the kwami herself even resolved to give Marinette advice about how to properly deal with her emotions.
But Marinette couldn't help but feel like a bad person. She was supposed to be the sworn protector of Paris; she was supposed to be Ladybug. What would it say about her if she went around putting people at risk of akumatisation? What did that say about her morals? What did that say about her as a person?
More importantly, could she really be the heroine that Paris deserves?
Or the kind of partner that Chat Noir could actually be proud to work with?
And with that, it really left the spotted heroine very irritated and restless, so much so that not even the glorious dinner at the Agreste mansion last week managed to assuage any feelings of guilt, and blood-curdling anxiety that leeched away her happiness and ate at her conscience over the past few days.
“I wonder if Chat ever had to deal with this before?” Marinette thought, absentmindedly looking on at the various people who took to the streets across from the bakery. Chat Noir was possibly the only person who came close to understanding Marinette's plight. And in spite of his unsolicited flirting (and her not returning his feelings) he quickly grew to become a good friend and trusted ally in their efforts to keep Paris safe from Hawkmoth and to hopefully defeat him at some point along the way- that much, she appreciated from him.
"Well, I hope he's feeling better than I am at the moment,"
Dragging her somewhat unfocused gaze to the sound of high pitched squeals, Marinette saw children, swallowed neck-deep in their cute winter coats and thick scarves that were wrapped protectively around their necks, and carrying little sparklers, come into her view. She let out a small snort. A smile crept up her lips as she leaned closer to see the kids take to the streets, temporarily melting some of her worries away with the cold breeze.
Marinette cradled her chin with one hand while the other absently caressed the side of the railing, as she giggled softly at the antics of the small children who started to run after each other. Their boisterous laughter danced through the air and the muffled remnants of it ricocheted into Marinette’s waiting ears. Her eyes widened by just a fraction, and her formerly jovial expression dimmed as she looked on at the children a bit more sombrely now, with a sad expression suddenly coming to grace her gentle features.
They looked and sounded so problem-free, and acted as if there wasn’t a care in the world.
The kind of freeing feeling and carefree attitude Marinette would’ve given anything to have now.
Just then, Marinette frowned. If Hawkmoth wasn’t stopped soon, the heroine was probably looking into years of crime-fighting that could very well follow her into adulthood. She blanched at the prospect that she would probably be throwing any sense of a normal adolescent life away.
“And a normal love life,” a pesky thought intruded, as the image of a certain blonde green-eyed boy flickered obnoxiously into her head. Marinette shook the image away promptly and waved a free hand into the air as if to dismiss the thought entirely. Carefully, her eyes drifted sadly to look at two people who appeared from a corner, with their gloved hands intertwined closely together. Marinette's frown deepened- the usually sweet view suddenly making the girl feel unnaturally sick with envy.
"They look like such a loving couple," her mind supplied sullenly. And just as they looked like they were going to lean in for what was surely going to be a tender kiss, Marinette sharply turned her head- feeling that her eyes were suddenly beginning to sting with unshed tears. She quickly pulled away from the railing to rub furiously at her face.
“Damn it,” she cursed, burying her face in her hands. She felt the beginnings of a sob threatening to tear through her throat and hot tears that began to trail down her delicate porcelain cheeks.
So, not only was she going to have to go through Hawkmoth’s stupid game for what probably seemed like the rest of her teenage years- probably losing her lease on a normal life in the process, she was also going to be denied any semblance of a normal relationship if she and Chat didn't stop Hawkmoth soon. What exactly was she doing with her life?
Pushing the incoming sound of yet another dose of fireworks and cheers aside, as they faded into the back of her mind like an afterthought, Marinette suddenly felt very much alone and isolated on this little balcony of hers as a wave of thoughts flooded her distressed mind.
What would become of her in a few years time?
And along the way, would she lose herself? Would she cause another Santa Claws?
Would she make the right choice?
She obviously understood that there was no rhyme or reason to akumas. A simple breakdown, a little wrong thing said (no matter how harmless) could mean life or death in Paris depending on what a person was going through and how much Hawkmoth could manipulate them to giving into their dark thoughts. Negativity was an inevitable part of living, and whatever manifested within someone from that, too was inevitable and unpredictably dangerous for all the right reasons.
Marinette, of course, never blamed the victims, and after being on the other side as the target of some akumas’ ire due to her own failings (she still cringed with slight guilt when thinking about the Volpina incident with Lila)- and she couldn’t blame those people either, no matter how much it perturbed her to think about it. But she could blame the source of the akumas. Sure, Chloe, (the bane of her existence) and people like Bob Roth, were despicable and remorseless in how they treated others in spite of knowing the risk of akumatisation. But it wasn't entirely their fault because, asides from being a bad person, they didn't actually cause the akumas. And she wasn’t condoning their actions either because they had their own fair share of blame considering current circumstances. But she knew the only real person she could blame (and happily beat within an inch of his life with Chat's baton) was Hawkmoth.
But even with that sound logic in mind, she still couldn't stop feeling beaten up and guilty about the whole affair. Some part of her was afraid that she never will.
Removing her hands from her face once she felt like she wasn't going to start crying- Marinette reached to brush her fingers against her earrings, or, well, her miraculous, that felt more of a heavy burden to carry as opposed to an honour to uphold as the days went by.
“So much changed for me in a year. First I was a normal girl, living in a bakery with a relatively normal life, and here I am; one among two teenage superheroes expected to protect Paris no matter what,” she contemplated gravely. The unnatural chill from her earrings seemed to bite and dig at her fingertips, and Marinette had half a mind to simply rip them from her earlobes and be done with the whole affair.
“Is this really worth it?”
For once, she was grateful that she left Tikki in her room to feast on her cookie stash. Kwami knows that the Goddess of Creation wouldn’t have been too appreciative let alone understanding of the heroine’s dark thoughts. Not that she could criticise the mini Goddess. Tikki didn't understand how human nature worked most of the time. But sometimes Marinette wanted designated “normal teenager” time to reflect on her feelings (and with Hawkmoth around there wasn’t exactly a lot of open slots for that so Marinette took advantage of any openings she gets) and she was glad the kwami was agreeable enough to give that to her, even if only for a few moments.
And contrary to popular belief, it wasn't just about never being able to be in a relationship for as long as Hawkmoth continued to be active. It was about the lies, the beating around the bush, the emotional repression and turmoil that came along with being one of the people that could never be akumatised. And call her selfish- but Marinette couldn't fathom more months like this, let alone years of repressing her emotions and putting on a show just so those butterflies would screw off long enough for the heroine to be rid of them.
But, try as she might, she remembered what she signed up for the moment she stepped out in the suit for that second time against (the butterfly image of) Hawkmoth. She could’ve given up the miraculous right then and there. But she didn’t. No, Ladybug made a promise to Paris during Stoneheart, and Marinette knew she would sooner die than give up this battle with Hawkmoth, no matter how emotionally grating.
Above everything, however- above her duties to Paris and her on and off again struggle with normal life; Marinette still bore issues regarding her worthiness with the Ladybug miraculous. If she was even worthy of the mantle at all, if Master Fu was right to trust her with being Ladybug, and the burdens and mountains of responsibility that came with it- so this wouldn’t be the first time she thinks of this, and as much as she tried to repress and push it into a little ball to store within herself, it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Almost all if not all, of her classmates, continue to fall victim to Hawkmoth. Even her own best friend, Alya has been akumatised. And while yes, Marinette could not be expected to hover and play guardian angel for her classmates all of the time- she couldn't but help constantly feel like she's failed them. Both as a hero and civilian- the latter somehow stinging her way more than the former.
Marinette stayed like that for a while; this silent tug of war in her head, with her hands on her earrings, and a blank look clouding over her downcast bluebell eyes as she stared into oblivion. The stiffness of her stature and furrowed eyebrows made for an extremely odd sight to an average unknowing observer. To anyone, it seemed like the girl was struck with the heaviest burden in the world (how that came down to a pair of earrings was anyone’s guess).
And for the girl in question, it sometimes felt like the burden was so heavy that it was practically forcing her into the very ground she stood on.
Marinette was only broken away from her reverie by a sudden sharp gust of wind, that pierced through the thick wool of her sweater and subsequently sent icy chills cascading down her spine with a shiver.
"Aw hell, when did it get this cold?"
Quickly ripping her hands from where they rested on her earrings, thoughts about giving up forgotten- she quickly resolved to wrap her arms around her middle whilst a full-body shiver continued to overcome her person. Beyond the shivering and slight chatter of her teeth, her formally static surroundings seemed to bleed back into focus with extreme clarity.
"TEN, NINE,”
More awake and focused, Marinette heard the distinct echoing coming down the streets and throughout the neighbouring homes. They were the unmistakable chants of a countdown.
Standing straighter now, Marinette flexed her stiff fingers and turned her wrist to glance at the time. Ah, it quickly made sense why she felt so cold now. She’d been on her balcony for at least an hour mulling over a majority of her thoughts, with nothing more than a woollen sweater and thermal leggings to keep her warm. It was a miracle that her parents hadn't come up to berate her about frostbite yet.
“EIGHT, SEVEN,” Marinette heard people continue to chant.
“Marinette!” and just like that, Marinette's ears perked at the hearty voice of her Papa that bellowed from below. Anticipation lacing his tone, his voice sounded muffled from beyond her room’s hatch door. “Come on down sweetie! They’re doing the New Year’s countdown!”
Letting out yet another sigh that night, and generally feeling very much resigned to her feelings, Marinette quickly rubbed the tears out of her eyes with one hand with a silent prayer that it wasn't too obvious that she just spent an hour crying on her balcony.
As she did this, Marinette slowly but surely sauntered over to where her trapdoor was and made her way back into her room. And if a little red blur zipped out to rest inside one of her pigtails, Marinette made no sound of protest or surprise as she continued her little descent into the comfortable warmth of her bedroom.
As she slowly made her way down back, she immediately began to feel the red blooming its way back into her cheeks and the weird icy feeling in her skin finally melting away to be replaced with pleasant warmth. It also helped that Tikki was rubbing comforting circles into her scalp with her paws. Marinette let out a happy huff at the kwami's silent act of kindness.
“Thanks, Tikki,” Marinette said tenderly. The kwami only hummed in response and continued her ministrations. Marinette giggled, before looking herself over in the mirror.
I guess I could blame the splotchy red in my cheeks on the cold...
She frowned and released a dejected sigh. Great, even more lies.
“Marinette!!” she heard her Papa call out once more, his voice just a little bit louder, but devoid of any anger or frustration. As was the nature of her beloved Papa.
Feeling very sheepish that she forgot to respond to him the first time, she shook her head slightly to regain her bearings and swiftly called back out, just as loud if not louder, in order to assuage her father's calls.
“Coming Papa! Be right down!”
Now scrambling to get down, Marinette haphazardly pulled her grey pea coat over her sweater before grabbing her pink scarf and white earmuffs off of her desk and clumsily dashing to the hatch door.
"AH! Wait."
She paused, skidding to a halt just inches away from opening her hatch and tumbling down in a fit of clumsiness. Taking a deep breath, and schooling her previously downcast and sullen expression, she firmly pushed down all and any negative feelings she had on the balcony into herself before swiftly climbing down to join her family in their jovial celebration.
And if a certain kwami noticed that her smile was a little bit more practised, or that she looked like she was far away as she followed her parents and grandparents out on the street to see the show of fireworks as the countdown ended, she made no mention of it as she hid (and frowned) quietly within the safety of Marinette's pigtails.