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Maman has always said Marinette has an old soul, that she sometimes stares into the distance like an old woman reminiscing on happier times. It is not until years later that Marinette realises how true it is.
When Marinette is three, Papa puts PAW Patrol on TV. It instantly captivates her, much more than any other cartoon she has ever watched.
The bright-coloured costumes strike a chord within her. High tech suits, cheerful demeanours, saving people with a smile on their faces—
It feels familiar.
Deku, the hero who never gives up, All Might’s successor, the Symbol of Hope, the No. 1 pro hero—
Papa shakes his head fondly. From then on, the cartoons Marinette watch involve superheroes more than anything else.
The night of Marinette’s fourth birthday, she refuses to sleep.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Maman sighs, sitting down next to her.
Marinette shoots Maman a look that clearly shows she thinks it’s a dumb question. “I’m waiting for my quirk, duh.”
“Your…quirk…?”
“My superpower.” Marinette states like it’s obvious. “It comes in when I’m four, remember?”
“…honey,” Maman hesitates, “maybe your superpower will come in tomorrow. You’ll still be four when you wake up.”
Marinette frowns, “Then I’ll wait until tomorrow morning!”
She can’t be quirkless. Not again.
“Your superpower won’t go away while you sleep.” Papa interjects. “It’ll appear when you wake up.”
That sounds wrong. Against her better judgement, Marinette nods reluctantly, “Okay.”
The next morning, when Marinette wakes up, she still doesn’t have a superpower.
She’s quirkless again.
Of course she is. Quirks don’t exist in this universe.
Marinette wails bitterly, like an old wound has been forcibly torn open, like a boy whose dream has once again been shattered. It is the hardest she has ever cried in this lifetime.
She doesn’t stop until Papa successfully distracts her with ice cream.
“What do you want to be when you grow up, Marinette?” One of Maman’s friends from Tai Chi class asks when she comes over.
“I wanna be a superhero!” A six-year-old Marinette exclaims. She doesn’t know where that thought came from. She’s never thought of what she wants to be before. “I know it’ll be hard without a quirk, but I wanna help people. I wanna save everyone with a smile on my face, like—”
Like All Might.
Who is All Might?
Maman’s friend giggles. She pats Marinette’s head. “Your daughter is so cute.” She tells Maman.
Marinette beams.
The first time Marinette eats katsudon, she cries.
It is her seventh birthday, and her parents brought her to a Japanese diner to celebrate. Out of all the foreign dishes shown on the menu, Marinette’s gaze is drawn to the photo of a bowl of katsudon.
When she takes her first bite, tears roll out of her eyes.
It’s stupid, she knows. She’s a big girl now, and big girls aren’t supposed to be crying about nothing.
But she’s not crying over nothing.
This smell, this taste, this feeling…it feels like returning to a safe place after a particularly rough day of hero work. It feels like Kaasan’s love, Shoto’s warm hugs, comfort after a raid goes wrong. It feels like the bubbly joy at being surrounded by friends turned family, at having a quirk, at the thought of Toshinori as a paternal figure; it feels like the bliss at having everything Izuku never thought he could have.
It feels like coming home.
“Sweetheart?” Maman asks her, concerned, “Is something wrong?”
Marinette smiles at her sheepishly. “It just tastes so good.”
Some mornings, Marinette doesn’t recognize the face staring at her in the mirror. Her eyes are blue, not green; her hair long and straight and black, not short and curly and green.
It was wrong.
So, so wrong.
But why, though?
She tries dyeing her hair green. She looks horrendous.
Marinette doesn’t do it again.
Chloe is in Marinette’s class again. She is always in Marinette’s class.
Marinette doesn’t have many close friends at school, even though most people are quite friendly with her. The hazards of being Chloe’s favourite victim, she supposed.
She doesn’t understand why Chloe likes to target her so much. She’s no one special.
But you are, Deku. She’s jealous of you; of your close-knit family, of your many talents, of the respect you are effortlessly granted by your peers.
She’ll change with time, like Kacchan.
The ten-year-old frowns. She always imagines things like this. These whispers are like worms wiggling into her mind, burrowing into her thoughts until she doesn’t know what is up and what is down.
Who is Shoto? Who is Kacchan? Who is Toshinori?
Who is Midoriya Izuku?
She has found a word that describes these strange intrusive thoughts, on a probably ill-advised dive into the internet.
Schizophrenia.
Marinette doesn’t dare whisper a word of her discovery to anyone. It would worry Maman and Papa, isolate her further from her peers. The treatment for her possible condition is expensive, too expensive. As successful as her family’s bakery is, it would be too much of a burden on their expenses.
A hero can’t be a burden on the very ones they are sworn to protect.
Marinette finds the Ladybug miraculous on a seemingly normal day. The day Izuku was chosen as All Might’s successor had been a seemingly normal day too, up until it wasn’t. Up until it changed his life.
The kwami—Tikki, Marinette remembers—asks her to take up the responsibility of the Ladybug miraculous, to become a hero, to fight evil and save lives.
Marinette refuses. It is too strange, too unknown, in this world without superheroes. Yet, something in her yearns to help others, yearns to fight for justice and for peace, yearns to bring hope and joy into others’ eyes.
Once upon a time, her goal had been to become this world’s first superhero, with or without powers.
Quirklessness can’t chain her. Not in this lifetime.
She doesn’t resist the yearning for long. That day, Ladybug is born.
Being Ladybug is…well, it isn’t easy, but it isn’t as hard as Marinette thought it would be.
The cool wash of power over her skin feels strange as she transforms. It feels nothing like the hot electric thrum of One For All within her bones, but the strength the miraculous grants her is as familiar as that of the inherited quirk.
Tossing out the yo-yo is nerve-wracking. Marinette fully expects the yo-yo to bounce back onto her face, or to break mid-swing. She expects herself to clumsily fumble her way through the air, or perhaps make a wrong move and end up as a premature stain on the pavement below.
Instead, navigating through the air comes like instinct. The yo-yo wraps around chimneys and poles like an extension of herself. Marinette reels the string in, and swings from rooftop to rooftop as if she has been trained for this.
She has.
The yo-yo isn’t all that unlike Black Whip, and even without Float, Izuku has practiced until he can run across rooftops in his sleep.
Marinette lands deftly on a streetlamp. Not a second later, a boy in a cat suit crashes into her.
Without thinking, her yo-yo lashes out, carrying both of them safely onto the ground. The boy beams at her, impressed.
Her new partner is called Chat Noir. Marinette admires his easy confidence. He admires her coordination and quick thinking.
Marinette is too embarrassed to tell him of the time she tripped over air and landed with her lips on a boy’s.
They find Stoneheart, the foreign, gigantic monster that would not look out of place in a superhero movie.
Chat Noir bounces eagerly into the fight. Marinette hesitates.
“You have to be fast and decisive. A moment’s hesitation can mean one more civilian dead.”
Chat hits the akuma. It grows larger, stronger. Marinette curses.
She springs into the fight.
Against Marinette’s advice, Chat activates Cataclysm. Stoneheart flings him away, right towards the new girl in her class.
“And what is the first rule of heroics?” “Rescue comes first.”
“Remember, young heroes! Be mindful of the bystanders.”
Marinette reels in the yo-yo, previously wrapped around Stoneheart. A flick of her wrist has it wrapped around Chat Noir’s torso. A pull has him flying back towards the battlefield, no longer in danger of Cataclysming Alya.
Chat smiles sheepishly at her. Marinette sighs and activates Lucky Charm.
They make quick work of the akuma. Marinette purifies the emerging butterfly—she wasn’t stupid enough to transform without listening to all of Tikki’s briefing.
They comfort Ivan. Chat places his hand on some random rubble to neutralize his Cataclysm. Alya rushes over, phone in hand, and begins singing their praises.
Miraculous Ladybug is a very convenient fix-it button.
If only Izuku had that. How many people could have lived…?
Marinette instinctively smiles at the camera. Alya looks as if she is about to burst with excitement.
Heroes smile to reassure the civilians. If they are smiling, surely the situation is under control?
Heroes smile to hide their fear.
Alya asks Marinette for her superhero name, for an explanation to the monster Ivan turned into.
Make a splash, young Midoriya. This is your debut!
Marinette answers, all with a smile on her face. She is Ladybug. A supervillain turned Ivan into an akuma using his negative emotions. Don’t worry, Ladybug and Chat Noir will be here to save the day, if this ever happens again! Ivan is an unwilling victim here, take care of him and give him some chocolate.
She doesn’t tremble, doesn’t betray the erratic beat in her heart. She barely knows the answers to Alya’s questions, only what she could glean from Tikki’s brief speech. But she gives her best imitation of a calm, collected hero—do not fear; she is here!
Midnight would be proud.
Midnight is dead.
Their timers nearly run out. Marinette bids goodbye to Alya and Ivan, extracting a promise from the other girl that she would take care of Ivan. She pounds her fist against Chat Noir’s, and returns home.
Tikki smiles encouragingly at her when she detransforms, “That was brilliant, Marinette! Most Ladybugs don’t do as well during their first transformations. You’re a natural.”
Marinette smiles, feeling like a liar.
At least she didn’t break any arms this time around.
Marinette’s life improves. She finds a close friend in Alya—finally—and finds a partner in Chat Noir. She gets her first crush on her new classmate Adrien, who is as kind as he is handsome.
Yet, Marinette can’t help but feel like something’s missing.
There is a fire. A father weeping for his daughter, still trapped in the burning building. A woman calling for her husband, having separated as they were evacuating. A boy, crying desperately for his parents. The firefighters won’t make it in time—the building is destabilizing; it won’t be long before they are forced to pull back for their own safety.
Marinette doesn’t know how she knows that.
She’s lying. Aizawa-sensei had made sure they all knew how to judge the structural stability of buildings not long into their first year at UA.
On a hot summer night, when half of Japan’s cities had crumbled and dust was still clogging her throat, he told Izuku why. He spoke of a close friend, dead under a collapsed building, when they were just Izuku’s age. It wouldn’t be until a decade later that Aizawa-sensei found his friend still alive, but brainwashed and turned into a living weapon, part of the reason Japan was now a warzone.
There isn’t much time to think, so Marinette doesn’t. She ducks into an alley, and with a few words transforms into Ladybug.
A thirteen-year-old shouldn’t know how to safely navigate a burning building on the verge of collapse. To Marinette, the action is as familiar as breathing.
No one dies that day. Paris sings praises of their new heroine, and Chat Noir asks her how she did it on their next patrol.
She smiles and passes on some of what she inexplicably knows.
This feels familiar.
And then, Marinette remembers.
She isn’t sure how, or why. Maybe it has something to do with being the Ladybug miraculous holder. Maybe Tikki’s magic mixing with reincarnation magic caused the memories of her past life to reawaken. Or maybe it has something to do with how hard she hit her head when fighting an akuma that morning.
The whispers—the memories—she doesn’t have schizophrenia.
She knows what was missing now.
Marinette remembers Midoriya Izuku.
She remembers being a little quirkless boy, in a world where your fate is determined by what power you have.
She remembers grief, being belittled, the pain of rejection. She remembers a rooftop, on the day his dreams were shattered by the man he looked up to the most.
She remembers an apology, and a gift, a once-in-a-lifetime chance to inherit All Might’s power. She remembers attending UA, making new friends, until her class became a tight-knit family.
She remembers picnics under the sun, Kacchan’s cooking that made half the class run for milk, movie nights that filled his chest with warmth. She remembers sleepovers in the common room, learning to braid Eri’s hair, warm cups of tea after nightmares.
She remembers falling in love with Shoto. His gentle smile, when he felt at ease enough to do so. His insistence that Izuku was All Might’s son. A visit to the cat café, with cats piling onto his left side and sunlight shining onto his peaceful face—the day Izuku realised he was in love with Shoto. Their first date to the animal shelter, Shoto meeting Izuku’s kaasan, Izuku meeting Shoto’s. Fuyumi-san’s enthusiasm, Natsuo-san’s grudging approval, thinking his life was so beautiful that he couldn’t believe it wasn’t a dream.
And then—and then she remembers the bad things. She remembers All For One, and the League of Villains, and Japan’s cities in ruins.
She remembers how cruel a man can be, when he is consumed by hate. She remembers how Shigiraki nearly killed one third of Japan’s heroes in one go, and scared a quarter into resigning, until even first years had to fight in this war.
She remembers tasting ash on her tongue, and the smoke that clogged her lungs. She remembers tearing into the flesh of nomus with her bare hands, because killing them was the only way to ensure they stayed down. She remembers crying for them—they had been people—still were—until he realised having their minds stolen and their bodies weaponised was a fate worse than death. She remembers reasoning that putting the nomu down was perhaps a mercy more than a sin.
She remembers a battle to the death, between the successors of All Might and All For One, high above the skyscrapers of a ruined city. She remembers a victory that didn’t feel like one, and the disaster left in the wake of the war.
She remembers that he died in battle.
It was not how he wanted to die. He wanted to live a long, fulfilling life, marry Shoto, have a family, die old and content, surrounded by loved ones.
It was how he expected to die.
He didn’t understand at first, when he had simply and naively dreamed of becoming a hero.
He understood when Aizawa-sensei nearly died to protect students he barely knew, when All Might used the last embers of his quirk to defeat the greatest evil of the century, when Sir Nighteye used his last breath to protect a single child.
Heroes died bloody deaths for those they were sworn to protect.
She knew he would not be granted the peaceful death most yearned for.
He made peace with this fact months into his first year at UA.
Then why does it still hurt so much?
Hawkmoth nearly wins.
He used an akuma to boost his power, to create an army of mindless drones. Ladybug and Chat Noir are just two people, they are no match for an entire army, as unskilled as the army of zombified citizens are.
They would have been overwhelmed, but then Ladybug draws back her arm. Instinctively, with no plan or skills put behind the action, she punches the air.
A gust of wind with the might of a tsunami slams into the horde. In the blink of an eye, the sea of drones turns into a carpet of broken bodies.
Immediately, Ladybug knows that if it wasn’t for Tikki’s protection, her arm would’ve been shattered.
“What…” Chat pants, horror and relief warring for dominance on his face, “what was that?”
“…I don’t know.” Ladybug replies.
She’s lying. She knows exactly what this is.
This is the full power of One For All.
It doesn’t make sense.
Except…it does.
One For All isn’t like most quirks. It is a symbiont, almost like a parasite. It latches onto its holder’s very soul, and when the quirk leaves its previous holder’s body, it brings part of their soul with it.
When Izuku died without passing along his quirk, One for All left his body along with his soul. It makes perfect sense that it would be reborn into Marinette along with Izuku’s soul.
So yes, it makes perfect sense that Marinette can access One for All, something that by all means shouldn’t exist in this universe.
It also makes perfect sense that Marinette is currently staring at the face of her past life, and all the holders of One for All before him.
Toshinori is still a bundle of yellow mist. Marinette is glad. As much as she misses him, Toshinori is still alive, and she wants him to stay that way as long as possible.
And, well, they’ll reunite here, at some point or another. She doesn’t mind waiting.
“Hey, kiddo,” Nana smiles.
Marinette cries. She thought she had gotten over the longing for her old world.
She hasn’t.
She misses her family.
The next time Ladybug shows up, it’s with shiny new abilities. Strange black strands grow from her limbs. Her costume changes; with new black gloves, a jumpsuit-like appearance, and black cape-like wings. She has red shoes now.
The akuma, Haze, can fly. So can Ladybug. And somehow, despite the thick fog the akuma conjures, Ladybug always knows exactly where Haze is.
She hits harder, moves faster. Red and black lightning flickers across her body.
(Adrien stares as his Lady dances across the air—beautiful, elegant, ethereal. He falls just a bit more in love.)
(In a massage parlour that suspiciously never closes despite having only a few customers, Master Fu watches the development with wary eyes. He didn’t know the new Ladybug holder is a sorceress.)
(In an unnecessarily extravagant attic on the other side of the city, Hawkmoth seethes. How did a mere child become so much more powerful than he?)
Time passes strangely between dimensions. For Izuku, it has been fifteen years. For his friends, it has barely been a month.
It is night. Marinette works on her designs. She goes to bed.
When she reopens her eyes, she is staring at Ochako, at Tenya, at her friends-turned-family.
They are in a dark room. She’s standing on a table, the only furniture in the room. Her family is crowded around the table.
There is a stranger in the room. They nod at Ochako, brushing black hair out of their pale face to reveal equally black sclera and irises, “I’ll leave you to it.”
They leave the room.
Tenya frowns. “You’re not Izuku.” He accuses.
Marinette flickers into Izuku. Izuku flickers into Marinette. “I am.”
Yaomomo’s eyes widen in realization. “You got reincarnated.” It’s a question.
“I did.” Marinette Izuku answers. He hesitates, then adds quieter. “It’s been fifteen years.”
Someone gasps.
Tenya averts his eyes, uncharacteristically subdued. “It’s only been a month here.”
Oh.
Ochako is crying. They all are.
“You promised…” Shoto swallows. “You promised you’d survive. You promised you wouldn’t die before me.”
“I’m sorry.” Izuku says. They both knew it was an empty promise.
“Don’t go, Deku,” Ochako begs, “We miss you. The world needs you.”
Izuku wants to stay. The hole in his chest, the one he just barely closed, is wide and gaping again.
But. But can Marinette leave Maman and Papa? Can she abandon Tikki and Chat? She has grown so much closer to her classmates this year, and while they will never be as close as 3-A, she can’t—won’t—leave them at the drop of a hat.
She swallows.
She wants to stay. She can’t.
Izuku Marinette smiles sadly. Tears trail down her face. “I miss you too. But I have a new life now. I can’t come back.”
“Are you happy, at least?” Shouto asks desolately. Marinette Izuku hasn’t seen him look so mournful since his mother died.
Izuku thinks of his loving parents. He thinks of Alya, of Adrien, of Tikki and Chat Noir. He smiles, “Yes, I am.”
Shouto kisses him, lightly and gently; a goodbye kiss. Izuku Marinette wonders if Adrien’s lips will taste the same.
It is time to let each other go.
Marinette Izuku smiles. He is crying, like his friends, like Shouto. “Goodbye,” he says softly, “I’ll always love you. Tell Toshinori and Kaasan I’m sorry and I love them, okay?”
Ochako hugs him. “We won’t forget you,” she murmurs.
Izuku almost prefers that they do. They won’t be hurting if they don’t remember him.
It’s a selfish wish.
He fades away in glimmering light.
Marinette wakes up in her own body. Her cheeks are wet. She knows it is not a dream.
Izuku Marinette will always be a hero. It is her destiny, encoded into her very soul. She may refuse it, may try to escape it. But in the end, she will always be a hero, no matter how many lives she is reincarnated into. She may wear green and wield power passed on from a villain; she may wear red-and-black and wield power granted by a small god.
But she will always be a hero.
Always.