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“Oh, we’re so happy you want to reconnect with your culture!”
Marinette smiles awkwardly, and her gut twists painfully at the guilt eating up her insides. “I’m so excited to go!” she exclaims, and gives her parents both a hug and kiss on the cheek before hurrying up to their apartment.
Technically, she’d only wanted to go to Shanghai to be in the same place as Adrien, not talk to her cousins or reconnect with her roots, but her parents seem all too happy to believe that she’s a better daughter than she really is. She’s too scared to correct them.
She already lies for the sake of being Ladybug. What’s another one in the grand scheme of things?
When Marinette finally collapses into her bed, Tikki comes flying out of her purse.
“Marinette, aren’t you happy that your parents said yes?” Tikki asks, floating over to her desk to nibble on a cookie.
“I mean, I am, but…” Marinette looks at her computer background, where Adrien smiles cooly in all its pink-tinted glory. “They think I’m going to Shanghai because I want to learn more about my Chinese heritage, not because Adrien’s going to be there!”
Tikki tilts her head and downs the rest of the cookie in one bite. “Don’t you also want to learn more about your heritage?”
That question should be an easy one to answer. Yes, people would expect her to say. Any sane person would say yes, she thinks, and it only makes the guilt curdle more violently in her stomach.
Because she wants to confidently and completely say yes.
But years living in Paris have taught her that it’s easier to say no.
Marinette remembers the first day of primaire and the teacher who struggled to pronounce her name.
“Marinette Dupain-Chang,” her teacher had said, after pausing before the hyphen.
Marinette had been too shy to correct her teacher and say that it was Dupain- Cheng , actually, and felt ashamed the rest of the year for not having the courage to speak up.
It had hardly mattered anyway. That teacher mostly addressed her as Marinette Dupain, completely forgoing the last part of her name. Marinette wishes now that she could’ve said more, done more; Cheng, after all, is her mother’s name, and in not speaking up she feels she had somehow been ashamed of her mother.
“Ching Chong Chang,” a boy had also taunted her for weeks until he had found another person to pick on.
At the very least, not correcting others on her name had spared it from being slandered.
Marinette remembers growing a bit older and noticing that she looked just slightly different from her other classmates. Sure, she looked similar enough to pass—but there was always just something vaguely off that she could not put her finger on. She recalls feeling grateful that she had been born with blue eyes, not brown ones like she saw her cousins had in the few pictures her mother kept.
“Blue eyes are prettier,” the media told her.
And she had believed it.
Marinette remembers the day Kim had first joined her class with none of the gusto he swings around now.
“Kim Lee Chin,” the teacher—the same one who had butchered her name the previous year—had said. “Why don’t you sit by Marinette? She can help you understand things better.”
Kim had stumbled up the steps to slide into his seat and greeted Marinette with a sentence that had similar tones and sounds to the ones her mother used on the phone with her grandparents, but none of them were familiar.
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand,” Marinette had replied, embarrassment painting her cheeks.
“Aren’t you Chinese?” the teacher had asked.
Yes , Marinette thought, too scared to speak and admit to her failings. Yes, she was Chinese—her mother was from Shanghai, and she spoke traces of Mandarin and Shanghainese, but neither of those sounded like what Kim had just said to her.
But maybe, maybe, that was all Marinette’s fault.
Perhaps that had been the moment Kim had begun to develop his famous confidence.
“I’m Vietnamese!” Kim had cried, huffing. “Get it right!”
Their teacher hadn’t responded and just continued with attendance.
Marinette remembers the last time she ever invited a friend over for a meal.
It had been a cold, winter Saturday, and Marinette had invited her friend Danielle over to have lunch with her family. She hadn’t been too close to Danielle, really, but after going over to the other girl’s house for an after school playdate, Marinette’s mother had insisted she invite her over to repay the hospitality.
Excited to have a friend over, Marinette had requested her mother make congee, one of her favorites to eat on cold days. She had been especially excited to share the delicious porridge, just like how Danielle had shared with her a handful of sour candies when she had come over.
When they had gone to sit at the dining table, though, Marinette’s excitement was dashed.
“Ew! What’s that?” Danielle had exclaimed, pointing to the bowls of congee and plate of youtiao laid out for them. “It looks like vomit!”
“That’s not vomit, that’s our lunch,” Marinette had said, without the strength she wishes she had spoken with.
Danielle had apparently been too occupied with declarations of how gross the congee had looked to hear. “What did you say?”
“I’ll ask my mom where our lunch is,” Marinette had said, louder, her heart breaking in two.
The congee had grown cold on the table, and the girls had eaten some leftover pastries for lunch instead that day.
Marinette loved—loves—her Chinese heritage.
But, like most things she loves, she’s more comfortable keeping them at arm’s length: untouchable, where they have no chance to hurt her nor can she ruin them in return.
“Marinette?”
Marinette breaks out of her daze and turns to Tikki. “Sorry, I spaced out a bit there. Were you saying something?”
A look of concern crosses Tikki’s face, but it smooths itself out before Marinette can comment. “I was just saying that you should start packing!”
Screeching, Marinette jumps out of bed and starts throwing the contents of her closet onto her floor in a panic, and her memories of a childhood spent feeling out of place gets shoved to the wayside.
Just as Fei grabs her arm, pleading with Marinette to trust her, Chat Noir swoops in and takes both of them away from the scene.
“Marinette! Your great-uncle has been looking all over the place for you!” Chat Noir says, voice full of relief. “How the heck did you end up with Hawkmoth of all people?”
“There’s no time to explain.” Marinette cranes her neck to look back at the scene they’d left behind. She hears evil laughter already, even above the winds rushing past her ears. “There’s an akuma on the loose!”
“And after I get you and your friend to safety, M’Lady and I will take care of it,” Chat Noir promises, wholly unaware that he is escorting his Lady farther and farther away from where she needs to be.
Marinette scrambles to think of some excuse to get him heading back to the akuma battle and away from her so she can sneak off and transform. “You can just drop us off here!” Marinette cries, pointing to a random rooftop. “That’s where my great-uncle is!”
Even uncomfortably cradled against his chest as she is, she can tell by the shift in his shoulders that he’s looking at her with probably some disbelieving look. “That is definitely not where Cheng Sifu’s restaurant is.”
Fei chooses then to speak. “You’re related to Cheng Sifu?”
Marinette huffs. Of course Fei doesn’t choose to speak when the cat-themed superhero snatches them out of nowhere and vaults with them over the (extremely high) rooftops of Shanghai.
“He’s my great-uncle on my mom’s side,” Marinette admits, “but that’s not the point. Chat Noir, how did you know where my uncle works? Are you guys friends or something?”
Marinette’s half-joking with the last question, but Chat sputters, “No! Not at all—I mean, Cheng Sifu is great, he’s an artist, really, but he doesn’t know me and I don’t know him at all! I just… I just know him from when he was akumatized!”
“...and his Thousand Delights restaurant is really famous,” Fei adds on.
“And speaking of Thousand Delights, we’re here!” Chat Noir tightens his grip on the two of them and jumps unsteadily down to the street. Passerby watch in awe, likely not used to the sight of a leather-clad hero jumping around.
Marinette clutches on for dear life and notes to herself that carrying two civilians at once, without dropping either, is an incredible show of strength. She’ll need to ask Chat for his workout routine on their next patrol.
Which promptly reminds her that there’s an akuma loose in Shanghai that has likely been wreaking havoc on the city without any superhero to combat it.
“Thank you, Chat Noir,” Marinette says as he lets Fei and her both down gently. “But don’t you have an akuma to fight?”
Chat dips into a joking bow. “You’re quite right, Princess.” Marinette’s heart absolutely does not flip at the nickname. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
A swarm of purple butterflies interrupts whatever he had been about to say next.
“Ladybug and Chat Noir!” Hawkmoth’s voice rings throughout the streets, prompting several onlookers to scramble into the nearest storefront for cover. “Don’t waste your time looking for the akuma or trying to find me. This city has already wasted enough of my time.”
The butterflies begin to disperse, spiraling slowly away toward somewhere in the sky. “Do not think I am giving up. Next time, I will get both of your miraculouses.”
With those final words, the butterflies completely disappear. The streets look just as they had been five minutes before, and people begin pouring out into the night once more.
“Did… did Hawkmoth just leave without fighting?” Marinette asks, incredulous. As far as she knows, Hawkmoth has only ever recalled an akuma twice in her entire superhero career.
“How a- paw -ling!” Chat Noir shakes his head. “I guess that’s a good thing, though.” He slides his communicator open. “M’Lady never answered my call, and I’d be one sad kitty fighting all alone.”
The shock of the night finally seems to settle on Fei. “Is this…” she gestures to Chat Noir and to the space where Hawkmoth’s akuma once were, “normal in Paris?”
Marinette and Chat Noir look at each other and laugh, full belly laughs that bring tears to their eyes. It’s absolutely hilarious how something so mundane to her is considered out of the ordinary in another part of the world.
The door to Thousand Delights slams open. “Marinette!” her great-uncle exclaims, running and scooping her up in his arms. “You’re safe!”
Marinette rests her head against her great-uncle’s chest and lets go of the tension that had been coiling in her shoulders since she realized her earrings were missing. “I am so sorry to make you worry, Uncle.”
“I am just glad you are all right,” he replies and pulls her in for a tighter hug.
“Marinette!”
Marinette looks up at the call of her name, confused as to why Chat Noir is calling out to her from what sounds like down the street. She’s surprised to see Chat Noir has gone—likely to head home, seeing as there was no akuma or Ladybug keeping him in Shanghai—and Adrien had been the one who called out to her.
“Ah, Adrien, my boy!” her great-uncle gestures at him excitedly and releases Marinette from his hold. “Thank you for going out to look for her, but Chat Noir brought Marinette back safe and sound.”
Adrien smiles and places a comforting hand on Cheng Sifu’s shoulder. “It’s no problem! Good thing Chat Noir was here, huh?”
Marinette feels as if she is about to combust. “You… you lent wout—I meant, you went out looking for me?”
Adrien grasps both of her hands in his and gives her a soft grin. His hands are calloused and soft and warm and electrifying all at once. His face is framed on all sides by soft moonlight. “Of course, Marinette. I was so surprised to hear you were in Shanghai, and Cheng Sifu and I spent all afternoon cooking and waiting for you! I knew getting to spend time with you would make any of my father’s boring business trips a thousand times more fun.”
If Marinette blushes any harder, her superhero identity would be at risk. She lets out an inhuman noise that she hopes doesn’t scare Adrien off. Adrien, as always, simply smiles understandingly at her antics.
Fei snorts quietly behind her. Marinette ignores it.
“Even though I couldn’t do much, I’m happy Chat Noir got you to safety,” Adrien says, a familiar twinkle in his eyes.
That reminds Marinette that she needs to ask her kitty why he was in Shanghai—and also thank him again on behalf of her civilian self. She isn’t sure she could’ve handled Hawkmoth by herself, and it had been a miracle that Hawkmoth had given up when he did.
“Okay, while I’m glad you’re all back,” Cheng Sifu says, clapping his hands on their shoulders, “the food will get cold if we stay out here too long. Let’s come inside!”
Marinette and Adrien nod and begin to head inside, but Marinette stops, noticing that Fei had made no move to follow. “Fei? Are you coming?”
Fei startles. “You’re… you’re inviting me in?” The other girl bites her lip, looking uncharacteristically unsure of herself. “Even after I…?”
Marinette shakes her head fondly and grabs onto Fei’s wrist. “We may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” she says, pulling Fei toward the restaurant’s entrance, “but… you apologized to me and got my earrings back. Plus, you defended me earlier against that scary store worker.”
The door of the restaurant closes behind them, shutting out the cold air of the night and caccooning them in the delicious warmth of the aromas drifting out from the kitchen. Adrien’s conversation with Cheng Sifu from behind the kitchen doors adds to the homely atmosphere, and Marinette just barely catches what sounds like a comment about soup and forks, if her terrible Mandarin skills can be trusted.
Fei’s facial expression has morphed into one of great shock, and her hands are clenched into protective fists in front of her chest. She looks awfully small and vulnerable in the grand entrance way of Thousand Delights, bathed in the soft glow of the restaurant’s minimal lighting and dressed in all black with a few scratches and bruises marring her cheeks.
When Marinette looks at Fei, she sees herself. She sees the same girl who had gotten her name pronounced wrong during attendance, the same girl who’d been given offensive names, the same girl who’d tried to share a precious part of her life to a friend only to have it scorned. A girl who had felt so alone.
She knows little of Fei’s background, but Fei had resorted to stealing to pay back a debt. And seeing as how Marinette—a lost girl far away from her hometown—had run into Fei equally alone, in a city that she was supposed to be a native of, Marinette figures that Fei knows even better than she does how it feels to not quite belong.
Marinette can do nothing for the little girl who had no real close friends until this year that she sees in her past, can do nothing to soothe the raw aching hurt, can do nothing about the part of herself that still wants to hide away the bits of herself that others had been so cruel to, but she can do something now.
It has likely been a long time since Fei has been treated with kindness and compassion without an ulterior motive. Marinette offers her hand out to shake.
“Hello, I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I was born and raised in Paris, France. I came to Shanghai to visit my great-uncle, Cheng Sifu, even though I barely know any Mandarin and absolutely no Shanghainese. Thankfully, when I got lost around the city, I ran into friendly locals who didn’t judge me for being a Chinese girl who spoke no Chinese.”
Out of her periphery, Marinette notices Adrien peeking his head out of the kitchen doors, but she continues, determined to not stutter. “Then, I ran into a girl my age who did speak English, and she was my savior. I knew that she had a good heart from the moment I saw her, and, even though we had some rough patches, I knew I wanted her to be my friend.”
Throughout Marinette’s entire speech, Fei had been walking steadily closer, a sheen in her eyes that suggests the start of tears. She’s smiling in a way that stretches her cheeks. “Hi, I’m Wu Fei.” Once close enough, she takes Marinette’s hand in her own and shakes. “And I think that girl you met would be honored to be your friend.”