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The sound of the commotion outside pulled Kagami out of her depressed stupor.
“You have to let me in!” cried a familiar voice. “She needs a friend right now!”
“Open the blinds,” said Kagami to the always-listening smart home system her mother had invented. Sure enough, Marinette was on the sidewalk in front of the building, arguing with the doorman.
Stopping only to splash water on her face so that it wouldn’t be as obvious that she had been crying, Kagami rushed to let her in.
“I’m sorry, miss,” the doorman was saying when Kagami arrived at the entrance. “You aren’t on Ms. Tsurugi’s list of approved visitors. If you don’t leave, I’ll have to call the police.”
“Everything is fine,” said Kagami quickly. Her clothing was rumpled and her hair was a mess, but she was still Tomoe Tsurugi’s daughter. That counted for something. “She and I were just leaving.”
Taking Marinette’s arm, Kagami hauled her away.
“Why are you here?” Kagami demanded as soon as she and Marinette were out of earshot. “You know my mother does not approve of our friendship.”
Marinette smiled weakly. “I’ll win her over someday. I came as soon as I heard what happened, Kagami. Is it true? Did you and Adrien…”
Kagami bit her lip. She wasn’t ready to talk about this with anyone, least of all Marinette. There seemed to be no avoiding it, however. “I broke up with him,” she said flatly. She took a deep breath. “Or perhaps I did not. I thought we were committed to one another, but he was not. Perhaps we were never truly in a relationship at all.”
Tears swam in Marinette’s bright blue eyes. “Oh, Kagami.” She threw her arms around Kagami and held her tight. Kagami was still not used to hugs. She endured it stiffly. “I’m going to make you feel better, whatever it takes!”
Kagami sighed. “I don’t think you can do that.” She wasn’t sure anyone could do that.
“Maybe I can’t.” Marinette’s eyes were wide and serious. “But I know a lot about heartbreak, and I love you. Will you let me try?”
Kagami couldn’t say no to those pleading eyes. “…Fine. Where are we going?”
“My house,” said Marinette promptly. “You need a makeover!”
“Is something wrong with my clothes?” Kagami glanced down at herself. She had slept in her outfit from Prince Ali’s party, which was highly unusual for her. After the breakup and her subsequent akumatization, she hadn’t had the energy to change her clothes. They were rumpled, but reasonably clean.
“No,” said Marinette. “This is about building your confidence.”
“I am very confident,” Kagami pointed out. “I broke up with him, remember?”
“That doesn’t matter!” Marinette saw Kagami’s expression and tried again. “It matters a little. Maybe you already feel great about that decision. But wouldn’t you feel even better if you were wearing an amazing new outfit made by yours truly?”
Kagami had to admit that the idea had a certain charm. “Perhaps,” she said, letting Marinette drag her down the sidewalk.
In no time at all, she found herself in Marinette’s room, surrounded by bright piles of fabric. Marinette dug through her wardrobe, occasionally pulling something out to add it to one of the piles. Kagami hid a smile. Whether in romance or fashion, Marinette never did anything by half.
“I thought you were going to find one outfit for me,” she said.
“It has to be the right outfit,” said Marinette as she dug. “Something with the right cut and the right fabric and the right colors. Something you’ll feel like yourself in.”
Kagami had never spared much thought for fashion. She wore the clothing her mother’s assistants ordered for her. When instructed, she assembled more formal outfits for parties.
Clothing was just something you used to indicate your wealth, your status, and your ability to keep in step with societal trends. But in Marinette’s hands, fabric became something like what Kagami’s pencil became when she stole a few quiet hours alone with her sketchbook. In Marinette’s hands, Kagami could believe that clothing was somehow expressive, revolutionary even.
“Found it!” Marinette cried. She brandished a wine colored sweater. “It never fit me right, but your shoulders are a lot broader than mine. And it’s so soft.” She thrust the garment into Kagami’s arms. “Here. Feel.”
The sweater was soft. It was something Kagami might have selected for herself, if she ever selected her own clothing. “It is very nice,” she said.
Marinette didn’t seem satisfied yet. “I’m not finished,” she announced, diving back into the piles of clothing. Kagami could only watch in bewilderment.
In short order, Marinette produced tight black pants, a pair of combat boots, and a brown leather jacket.
“Our feet are similar sizes,” she declared. “Are your ears pierced? I have a lot of earrings, but I don’t usually wear most of them.”
“No,” said Kagami with a small measure of regret. It might have been nice to try on Marinette’s jewelry.
“That’s okay!” Marinette grinned. “You’ll look beautiful even without any jewelry.” She ushered Kagami behind a screen to change into the outfit.
Kagami wasn’t sure about the pants. They were tighter than anything she normally wore, though not uncomfortably so. She wondered what she looked like. The sweater wasn’t as soft as others Kagami owned, but she liked the color, and Marinette had chosen it. Kagami was beginning to suspect that if Marinette asked her to fly, she would at least attempt it.
The boots had platform soles, making her slightly taller. When Kagami stepped out from behind the screen, she towered over Marinette.
Marinette’s face was scarlet. “Can—can I do your makeup?” she stuttered. “Before you look in the mirror. It’s part of the experience.”
“Okay,” said Kagami. Despite her expectations, the makeover was improving her mood. If Marinette’s reaction was anything to go by, she looked good.
Marinette sat in front of her, swiping at Kagami’s face with lipstick and eyeliner. Kagami held as still as she could. She never wore makeup, and she wasn’t used to other people touching her face. The experience wasn’t as unpleasant as she had expected, though. Not when it was Marinette doing the touching.
Marinette pulled away at last. “There. You’re ready.” She uncovered her mirror with a flourish. “What do you think?”
Kagami barely recognized the girl in the mirror. She was beautiful, resplendent in lipstick and leather. She looked confident. She looked alive. She looked different. She looked like herself.
“I like it,” Kagami managed. She was almost too surprised to speak.
Marinette beamed. “Good! I wasn’t worried.”
She was still blushing. Kagami would unpack what that meant later, when she was alone. For now, she twirled for Marinette and let her take as many pictures as she wanted. Personal revelations could wait just a little while longer.