Chapter Text
Not that anyone ever listened to him, but Chat had always said that December was the worst month of the year.
December was cold. December was wet.
And sure, ok. The snow was pretty. But most of it came in January. So most of the time, December was cold and drizzly and grey.
Who in their right mind actually liked any of that?
He was a feline who preferred cozy warmth and summer sunshine, thank you very much.
So of course it had to be winter and December and snowy when he and his Lady fought the worst akuma they’d ever faced.
“Lucky Charm!”
From nothingness, a red and black spotted box appeared in the air. Oval in shape with a domed lid over the top, it wasn’t much larger than his outstretched palm.
Beside him, Ladybug effortlessly caught it in her hands, a pensive frown etched upon her face. She was glancing around the rooftops, and up at the pillar they were temporarily hiding behind, trying to figure out what she was supposed to do with it. And it was obvious she was coming up short.
“What is it?” he asked, mildly curious.
“It looks… like a music box,” Ladybug replied with a thoughtful hum.
Chat Noir resisted the urge to groan. He would never understand why her Lucky Charms couldn’t ever just be something simple.
He swung his staff over his shoulders and gave her a reassuring grin.
“Well, as long as it makes this akuma face the music, you know I’m game.”
“Hmm, not your best,” she told him as she continued to consider the box.
Chat tapped his finger against his chin, agreeing with her assessment. “Don’t fret, M’lady, it shouldn’t be much treble coming up with a few more.”
“I’ve just encouraged you, haven’t I?”
“Really, you should be taking notes from this pun-maestro,” he teased with a wink.
She gave him an unconvinced look. “What do you know about notes? I bet you’re tone-deaf.”
Chat’s smile stretched into an even toothier grin. “Well, not to brag, but I am low-key brilliant on the piano. But alas, my true note-composition skills lie in a more lyrical form.”
Ladybug merely rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the music box, well used to his antics by now. “Writing me love songs again, Kitty?”
Chat shrugged. “I could recite a few, if you were so inclined to hear them.”
Ladybug frowned, examining the box in greater detail, opening and closing the lid and fiddling with the latch. She ran her fingers over the polka dots decorated around the middle, biting her tongue between her teeth.
“Sounds tempting,” she replied, only half listening. “But I think–” A drawer along the bottom of the music box popped out, and she jumped a little in surprise.
“Chaton,” Ladybug said in amazed excitement. “What do you know, there is a note in here. Or, paper at least. A pen, too.”
Chat looked over the music box with slightly greater interest. Not much more, but still. “Really?” he asked.
“Yes. But how would that help–”
Ladybug’s gaze caught on something behind him, and her eyes went wide. Chat, too, felt his senses prickle uneasily.
“M’lady–”
“Chat get down!” she shrieked, tackling him to the ground just as a white jet of light streaked toward them from the side.
She’d successfully pushed him out of the way, but had gotten herself hit in the process. Light flared.
“NO!” Chat Noir yelled as she collapsed beside him.
Hot anger coursed through his veins as he caught her in his arms, pulling her towards his lap.
“No. No, not you. Not you.”
Instinct took over. He lifted her up, and ran.
He didn’t know where the akuma was, or even if it was following them. He didn’t know if it had actually found them to begin with, or if it had simply gotten lucky with a stray shot. Chat just held his Lady to his chest with all the strength he had, and ran as far and as fast as he could. Eventually, he ducked down into an abandoned alleyway, and set her gently on the snowy ground.
She groaned from his lap, pale and lethargic. It sent his heart into nervous flutters, beating so wildly Chat thought it would fly right out of his throat. He tried to keep his hands from shaking, but found he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs, let alone control his shaking limbs.
“M-M’lady,” his voice came out broken and terrified.
It should have been me. It should have been me. It should have been me.
It was always supposed to be him. Only Ladybug could purify the akuma. Chat was the shield so that Ladybug could be the sword.
How could she have done this?
How could he have allowed her?
Ladybug’s eyes fluttered open, and her blue irises seemed brighter than usual. Was that bad?
“Chat,” she exhaled shakily. He gripped her tighter.
“I’m here Bug, I’m right here,” he promised, pulling her gaze toward his. Remember me, please.
“Chaton,” she said, reaching for his bell, and something in him melted a little bit. She still knew him.
For now.
“You know what this means,” she said, every word seeming painful. Her eyes gazed up at him intently.
The akuma called itself Flashback. Invisible to the eye aside from the flashing light that occurred wherever it struck, it had the power of stealing memory.
But not just any sort of memory: heroic memories specifically. Meaning they were the only ones who could be affected. Hawkmoth had been clever with this one– keeping civilians out of the equation and attempting to force their hand by wiping all memories of the heroes they were.
The general idea was to have them get hit, watch them de-transform, and when they’d forgotten their alter ego identities, they’d have no idea they’d need to defend themselves against Hawkmoth stealing their Miraculous.
So the duo hadn’t called anyone else from their team into the field, as it would only have put them at risk. It had left Chat and Ladybug stuck fighting an invisible akuma with the power to rob them of who they were, completely alone. And look where that had gotten them.
Chat Noir shook his head stubbornly. “I’ll get the music box. We reverse this now. Then we can recharge and try again.”
Ladybug gave him a soft, pained smile. “You know I can’t call the Miraculous Ladybugs until the akuma has been freed.”
Chat refused to accept that there wasn't an answer. He refused to lose her.
“Then I’ll go– I’ll go right now,” he swore. “I’ll get the akuma and bring it back to you.”
“Chat, wait,” she groaned as he began to pull away. “We need to have a plan in case–” But then her earrings began to beep their warning, and his rapidly beating heart– if possible– became even more frantic.
“We’re running out of time” he said. “I can’t see who you are, and you need to cleanse the butterfly. Hold on for five minutes. Promise me, LB,” he pleaded, pressing his forehead to hers. “Five minutes, My Lady.”
“Chat I–”
He pressed a kiss to her head, lowering her away from his lap and onto the snow-covered street of the tiny alleyway.
“Back in a flash,” he pledged, for the first time ever regretting the automatic pun that left his lips. He scampered away. He had a butterfly to catch.
...
It took him too long.
He knew that, even as he raced back towards the alley where he’d left her lying in the snow.
Flashback had been stupidly annoying to find, let alone defeat, and he’d had to do it all on his own. And then he’d had to capture the damned butterfly without akumatizing himself.
He’d had his Miraculous ring for several years now, but it had seriously taken him until today to realize his staff contained a compartment capable of housing an akuma butterfly.
No, he couldn’t cleanse it. But he could hold onto it for a short period of time. Just enough time to bring it back to his Lady, where she could finish the job.
“Please be ok. Please be ok,” he muttered to himself as he raced across the rooftops. When he at last dropped down into the narrow alley street, he allowed himself a shaky breath, a white puff of air leaving his lips as he exhaled.
But she was gone.
He ran up and down the alley, eyes scanning doorways, looking for open windows– anything. Any trace of the girl he loved and had vowed to protect.
“Ladybug? My Lady?!” he called anxiously. Then, “LADYBUG!” in sheer panic, turning on the spot. Looking for her– looking for any young girl anywhere.
But Ladybug had vanished into thin air.
“No,” he said in disbelief. “No.”
That’s when he saw it. The red and black spotted music box.
Half hidden by a dumpster, out of view from anyone who might have come by this way accidentally.
Chat Noir bolted towards it– towards anything– knowing it must contain a clue, an answer, a plan, yes, Ladybug always had a plan–
He ran, sliding to the ground, kneeling on the dirty wet pavement, and feverishly opened the box’s latch, digging around its depths with his fingers and coming up with nothingness. He shook the object slightly in his hands, and the drawer along the bottom, which had never fully been closed, slid open. What fell out made him– at last– go completely still.
His frantic heart finally settled. His arms dropped to his sides. But not from relief. From hopelessness. He’d never felt so empty, so devoid of purpose, in his whole life.
In one hand, two red spotted earrings gleamed. Taunting him and his failure. In the other hand, a note written on pale red paper, in her lovely handwriting. A final message.
‘Take care of them.’
He was numb. And Ladybug was gone.
And with all memory of her life with him erased from her mind, he may never find her again.
...
Later, he realized that the box was a magical vessel that could contain the akuma permanently. Or, at least until the evil butterflies could be cleansed… whenever that point would be.
It was as though the Lucky Charm had known what was about to happen, and had dutifully provided the necessary tools.
Adrien took the music box home, vowing to protect it with everything he had.
He hated the sight of it.
...
When Ladybug disappeared, Master Fu had been struck with a mysterious illness, and left for some ancient secret-Guardian monastery. Or something. Adrien never got the full story. He didn’t really care either. For all he was concerned, the old man had abandoned him in his greatest time of need.
But it meant that his apprentice, Carapace, got promoted to full-time Guardian. And the first thing the Turtle Hero decided to do was gather Chat Noir, Rena Rouge, and Queen Bee together at Fu’s old apartment.
And reveal his identity.
“Nino?” Queen Bee exclaimed in surprise that just barely bordered disgust.
“Hello to you too, Chloe,” he rolled his eyes.
Chat Noir simply stared at his friend in a mix of surprise, admiration, and exasperation.
“Why did you do that?” he asked, trying to be patient with him.
Nino rubbed the back of his neck, the jade bracelet at his wrist catching the light of the lamp in Master Fu’s old apartment.
“We all knew Fu, so I thought it was the right move,” the DJ explained. “You know, so you guys knew where to find me. In case of emergencies.”
“That was incredibly stupid.”
“Chat Noir!” Rena Rouge scolded. Of the three of them, she, for some reason, hadn’t seemed nearly as surprised to see the DJ standing there. Maybe she didn’t personally know his civilian self.
“Identities are important, Rena,” Chat argued, unapologetic. “Now if Hawkmoth ever captures us, we’ll be able to tell him exactly where to find the Miracle Box.”
“And are you planning on getting captured?” the Fox answered, eyes flashing.
“Ugh, you all are ridiculous,” Chloe muttered. She’d lost interest in the conversation, choosing instead to de-transform, collapse onto the low-seated sofa, and start filing her nails.
For a moment there was silence.
“I trust you guys. I wanted you to be able to trust me,” came Nino’s voice. It was soft, but firm. “It was my choice, and I made it. And I won’t be asking anyone else to follow my example,” he added, with a pointed glance in Chat Noir's direction.
“Well, good, because I’m sure as hell not telling you who I am,” Chat turned bitterly away from the group. He paced to stand in front of the set of glass doors leading to the small outdoor balcony. Snow was falling again, building up a bit on the railing.
He knew Nino was just trying to do the right thing. And he knew Adrien would never have spoken to his friend that way.
But Adrien wasn’t here right now. He was Chat, and he was on edge. It had been one week since they’d lost Ladybug. He still hadn’t forgiven himself for what had happened.
It should have been me.
“Ok, so what’s our plan?” Rena Rouge tried to break the silence, looking around at the three of them.
“You mean other than defeat Hawkmoth, obviously?” Chloe inputted helpfully from her perch.
The Fox crossed her arms, doing her best to stay patient. “I mean, now with Ladybug gone, what’s our strategy? Do we find her?”
“How are we supposed to do that?” Chloe asked skeptically. “We wouldn’t even know what to look for.”
Rena frowned in annoyance, looking to the boys for assistance. “Then do we choose a new Ladybug? What’s the protocol for this?”
“No,” Chat spoke up immediately.
All three turned their heads to him.
“We have to purify the akuma,” Nino reminded him gently. “Otherwise, it will multiply. The Ladybug Miraculous is the only one that can do that. We need Ladybug… even if it is someone else.” The way Nino was looking at him… with understanding, and… pity.
Chat didn’t know what made him say it. “She still has them. The earrings. The Miraculous is gone.”
A blatant lie.
But his Lady had entrusted the earrings to him.
She’d done it rather than risk something happen to them. Her civilian self, now void of all her Ladybug memories, wouldn’t know the significance of the earrings. She might throw them away, lose them, sell them, even. Ladybug had left them behind because she’d known they’d be safer with Chat than with her. Perhaps she’d even intended him to find a new Ladybug, as Rena Rouge had suggested.
If that was the case, then she’d overlooked a crucial fact. Replacing her was something Chat Noir would never be able to do.
“Gone?” Nino echoed, his face pale. The others were similarly shocked.
“She left us a music box,” Chat deflected, instead of answering. “Her Lucky Charm from the battle. It can contain the akuma butterflies, so that they won’t escape and target anyone else. When Hawkmoth strikes, we can still win.”
“But we can’t repair the damage,” Chloe evaluated, her voice hitting a rare somber tone.
Chat Noir shook his head in confirmation, pushing away the selfish guilt settling in his stomach.
“What about the music box, then,” Rena asked hopefully. “What happens if you throw it in the air? Can you release the Cure? Wouldn’t that fix everything, even bring Ladybug’s memories back?”
Chat’s face became hard and resolute. “No dice.”
He knew. He’d tried. He’d felt pretty stupid throwing up the box up in his bedroom and having it come back down crashing on his head. It probably had looked stupid too.
It still hadn’t worked.
“No Ladybug, no earrings, no Cure,” Nino summed up, sitting down now as well, resting his elbows on the tea table. “Well, that settles it.”
“Settles what?” Chat repeated, eying him suspiciously.
Nino sighed. Then looked up at the group, everything about his body language hesitant. “I’m… moving to New York.”
“What?” Rena Rouge asked sharply, alarmed by the declaration.
Nino shot her a look before addressing the group as a whole.
“Fu and I hoped that the earrings were…. if there’s no chance of recovering them, then Paris is no longer safe for the Miracle Box. If I can put distance between Hawkmoth and the Miraculous, it may help dissuade him.”
“Or make him more angry,” Rena, who was clearly angry herself, argued back. “More desperate.”
“Either way,” Nino firmly pressed on. “It will buy us time. With the Miracle Box taken out of Europe, and Ladybug vanished into thin air, Hawkmoth will need time to re-evaluate his plans. We’ll need that time to come up with our own plans as well.”
“What about the other jewels,” Rena tried reasoning. “If we had more heroes at our disposal–”
Nino cut her off. “It’s too risky.”
Chat privately agreed. Training more heroes was the last thing they needed at the moment.
“But if we had more help–”
“I said no Rena!” Nino shouted, and the fox heroine beside him fell silent.
Chat was stunned as well. Nino; always so chill, so calm, so collected. He didn’t think he’d ever once heard his friend raise his voice before.
He was glad it hadn’t been directed at him.
Rena Rouge clamped her mouth shut. She fixed the new Guardian with a hard look.
“You’re really moving to New York?” she asked. Chat didn’t understand the tone of her voice, but nevertheless didn’t like it.
Nino seemed to pale a little, but he impressively held his ground.
“Yes.”
Rena Rouge looked at her feet, nodding her head. She looked back up at him, hurt written all over her face.
“Goodbye then, Nino,” she said lowly, and brushed past all of them, swiftly exiting the room. Chat could have sworn there were tears in her eyes.
The door slammed behind her. They all stayed in relative silence a few moments longer, the sound of Rena’s echoing footsteps growing fainter and fainter as she exited the building and hit the street. Gone.
Chat Noir pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m gonna go too,” he sighed, feeling guilty about it, but knowing he couldn’t stay here much longer, where everyone’s emotions were so high strung. “How will we know where to find you,” he committed to asking, “while you’re in New York?”
It was somewhat of a pointless question, as Nino would likely tell Adrien later. But Nino didn’t know that.
“I’ll leave you an address for emergencies,” Nino responded tonelessly, staring deeply at the table surface.
Chat nodded once. Then he turned on his heel, walking towards the exit.
“Chloe,” he acknowledged as he passed her, still frowning petulantly at her nails from the couch.
She, pleasant as ever, ignored him.
...
Afterwards, everything changed. Nino departed to New York. Queen Bee declared herself indefinitely retired, only going out into the field when it was absolutely required of her. She kept her lofty attitude firmly in place, but Adrien could tell it was her own way of dealing with her disheartened grief.
It left mostly just Chat Noir and Rena Rouge to defend Paris from Hawkmoth’s attacks. Their team had become a broken shadow of its former glory.
The only saving grace was that the akumas did come much less frequently in the weeks, months, that followed. Without Ladybug’s presence and the prospective reward of earning her earrings, it seemed Hawkmoth was indeed more hesitant in continuing his campaign, just as Nino had hoped. It helped ease Adrien’s conscience for lying about the earrings.
Chat Noir stuck to his story. The remaining heroes made a public statement that Ladybug was gone– not dead, her memory only erased– and that she lived among the civilians now. She left no clear trace to recover her.
They made the decision to announce that her earrings had been destroyed by the akuma during the battle, in an attempt to protect them from falling into the wrong hands while they searched for her.
Of course, this had caused quite a stir among Parisians. People mourning their hero. People terrified of what it meant for Hawkmoth’s reign of terror. People doing everything they could to show that they still supported Chat Noir and Rena Rouge’s efforts.
And people talked. And wondered.
Where was Ladybug now? Who was she? What kind of life did their beloved hero lead? What was she doing right now, in this very moment?
For awhile, Chat Noir and Rena Rouge searched the city for Ladybug. But without the earrings, and no clues to go off of, the task became increasingly impossible. The Parisians didn’t help much– soon every dark haired girl in the city seemed to either claim she was Ladybug, or was suspected of it by others. Every public appearance saw at least one girl pushed onto Chat or Rena, in the hopes the heroes might “remember” her.
It was a cacophonous chaos that neither hero wanted to indulge in. After a month or two, Rena Rouge finally let their spotted hero go, releasing a second statement on the LadyBlog that Ladybug was indeed gone, forever.
Chat Noir, however, never gave up. At least privately, in the depths of his heart. He always had one eye trained on the streets, convinced if he just glimpsed her, he’d instantly know. He knew Ladybug better than anyone, and it had never been more important to know her now. He’d know her when he saw her. He would. He wouldn’t forgive himself otherwise.
From the safety of his rooftop hiding places, he’d gaze at the crowded streets, harboring thousands of people going about their lives, and he’d assure himself that one day, he’d find her again.
It didn’t matter how large of a crowd. He'd find her.
But months passed, the seasons changed to spring, to summer. And life moved on, and he’d yet to see even a trace of her.
And people continued to talk, even if less adamantly than before.
It was fantastical dream. They continued to wonder, to hope their hero would return to them. The question never seemed to be whether she’d return, but how, and who she would be when she did.
The rumors never ended.