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Felix had strong, immutable opinions on literally everything — from pressing philosophical questions to the most insignificant aspects of everyday life. One of these convictions was that putting plugs on trains was a stroke of genius, and the best thing since the invention of sliced bread.
With so many roundtrips between Paris and London, he had had many opportunities to further his research on cosmic power-ups — and to ensure his notes were safely preserved and neatly organised on his laptop. Unlocking the upgrade had proven more difficult than he originally thought: the cracks in the brooch might have resorbed, but Duusu’s disability was still very much present.
Still, Felix did not doubt that they could safely overcome this hurdle through rigorous work and sheer stubbornness. There was no way he would pass up such a time saver.
Especially in light of recent developments.
The overly diligent air-conditioning was a stark contrast to the heavy July wind; Felix took full advantage of the clash in temperatures, absent-mindedly doodling hearts on the fogged up window. The escape to London had been expected, but it certainly felt rushed; he and Kagami would have no choice but to react just as swiftly. Not that he particularly minded; after all, his best performances always arose from improvisation.
A familiar jingle rang through the wagon, and a latecomer leapt in just as the doors closed, clumsily hoisting his luggage onto the rack with a string of curse words. A perfect example of why Felix always made sure to book an entire booth for himself, away from rowdy children and bickering couples.
Clearly, the new arrival was unaware of this rule, for he soon crashed on the opposite bench with the grace of a depleted balloon.
“Dude,” he sighed, taking off his cap to wipe sweat off his forehead. “That identity control was no joke. Did you see that queue? Took way longer than I expected.”
Apparently, he was equally ignorant of the United Kingdom’s refusal to join the Schengen Agreement as he was of boundaries. Felix blinked, in a mix of confusion and annoyance.
“I believe you have the wrong seat,” he mumbled. “These are taken.”
The intruder made a show of inspecting his surroundings, before dismissing the remark with a shrug.
“By who? I don’t see anyone.”
“By me ,” Felix frowned, tapping his fingers on the table.
“Dude, there’s like, four seats, and only one of you.”
“A brilliant observation.”
“Why do you need so much space?”
“So I can work without getting disturbed.”
He pulled his laptop closer, placing a cautious hand on the top of the screen — just in case his unexpected guest was tempted to peek.
“I would appreciate your moving to your actual assigned seat,” he warned. “We wouldn’t want to get the inspectors involved, would we.”
The thinly veiled threat did not produce the expected result: instead, the other boy spread out even more, crossing his arms in an air of defiance.
“Wow, I guess Alya was right,” he pouted. “You really are uncool.”
The remark took Felix by surprise; he peeked over his screen, frowning.
“Do I know you?”
“Well, duh, bro! It’s me, Nino!”
To say this did not ring any bells would have been an understatement.
“Adrien’s best friend!” The intruder tried again, with emphatic gestures that did not make him look any saner. “The best DJ in all of Paris! Super Penguino Player Extraordinaire!”
Even more confusing.
“You got my girlfriend akumatised once,” Nino finally let out, visibly disappointed.
“Oh.”
“Also, you deleted the super cool video I made for my buddy. And stole my Miraculous. And snapped me out of existence.”
“Yes, I know who you are,” Felix mumbled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
In truth, it barely narrowed down the possibilities — come to think of it, he had ruined a lot of lives in his quest to free his cousin.
And for what?
Just as Felix considered hopping off the train, the engine started with a loud whir, peeling it off the deck. Instinctively, he reached for his Miraculous, safely tucked away underneath his coat.
“If you’re here to take back the brooch,” he snarled, every muscle in his body tensing up, “then you’d better be ready for a fight.”
“Dude, chill! I just want to talk!”
Nino’s hands shot right up, begging for a truce; his opponent kept his guard up, unconvinced.
“About what? We have nothing in common.”
“That’s not true,” the intruder corrected, cautiously. “We both care about Adrien.”
Suddenly, Felix remembered.
Nino’s recording was ridiculous, really: an excruciating thirty seconds, during which he had repeated the word “bro” without parsimony — like a mantra or a punctuation sign. There was no substance there, no intellectual value worth saving from oblivion.
And yet, upon pressing the delete button, Felix had felt a tinge of jealousy tugging at his heartstrings. An emotion he thought he had eradicated long ago.
As always, Duusu was the one to break him out of his own thoughts, by turning and rolling anxiously in his front pocket; he reached in and petted the tiny head for comfort, before closing his laptop with a sigh.
“What do you want?”
The other boy lowered his hands, slowly — like he still expected to be bludgeoned to death with a fan.
“Well?”
“I know you have a plan,” Nino finally blurted out, much louder than he should have.
Instantly, Felix could feel the accusing eyes of an entire wagon clinging onto him. He pulled his collar up, in a vain attempt to cover his face.
“Can’t you be more discreet?” he hissed, sinking into the corner of the bench. “I’m trying to lay low.”
“Oh, that’s right,” the other boy gasped apologetically. “Everyone knows you’re… Well, you.”
Felix’s mouth twisted — in part from exasperation, but mostly from remorse. The unwanted attention had become a significant motivator in his efforts to unlock his cosmic power-up; flying above the Channel in the cold and the rain seemed like a much more pleasant alternative.
Nino did not let the sordid spotlight phase him; instead, he leaned across the table, with an air of secrecy that certainly would not appease their audience.
“I know you have a plan,” he repeated in a whisper, “and I want in.”
Felix frowned, flabbergasted.
Maybe this was Ladybug’s idea of a trap.
“Like I said, I’m trying to lay low,” he replied, carefully. “I don’t intend to commit any acts of terrorism today or in the foreseeable future. Consider me retired.”
“What? Dude, no! I don’t want a repeat of the fucked up moon situation. That was, like, seriously uncool.”
“Then why are you bothering me?”
The intruder scratched the back of his neck, searching for his words. He was not great at masking his emotions, and Felix picked up on a strong cocktail of embarrassment and guilt.
“It’s Adrien,” Nino confessed, reluctantly. “He didn’t tell me he was moving to London. I don’t think he even knew himself.”
“Oh, he knew,” Felix replied, folding his hands together.
“Whatever — this isn’t what he wants. I know my buddy!”
“You didn’t seem too bothered two months ago, when he was absolutely miserable about his upcoming modelling tour.”
“That was different.”
“How so?”
“He didn’t have Marinette back then.”
There was a hint of sadness there, Felix noted. Not that he could blame the guy — he too had felt his stomach drop at the mention of her name.
“So you decided your best course of action was to ambush me on a train?”
“I had to. You’ve made yourself, like, crazy hard to find.”
“On purpose. Speaking of which, how did you even know I’d be onboard?”
“I’m a bit of a detective,” Nino boasted, pushing his glasses back on his nose with a smirk.
Felix blinked, unimpressed. Again, his fingers pounded on the table, pressing for a satisfying answer.
Eventually, the other boy relented.
“My girlfriend — the one you got akumatised — is an investigative journalist,” he sighed. “Digging up intel is kind of her thing.”
“Oh, so she’s the Lady WiFi one.”
“Dude, you should really keep better track of the people you spite.”
Felix shrugged. At this stage, one enemy more or less would not make much of a difference.
“So what’s the plan?” Nino pressed on. “What do we do? When do we strike?”
“I told you, there is no plan ,” he reiterated. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
The intruder’s face dropped. Maybe he was finally realising that stalking a stranger all the way to another country was not that brilliant of an idea.
“What? No, I don’t believe you. Dude! ”
There was a lot of emotion in that “dude” — more than anyone should be able to pack in one syllable.
“Don’t feel too bad,” Felix smirked. “London is so beautiful this time of the year.”
“Wait. So just the other day, you were willing to tear the world down for your bro —”
“Adrien isn’t my ‘bro’.”
“… For your cuz , and now that he’s been, like, basically kidnapped, you don’t want to help? What changed?”
Red Moon may have been gone, but her ghost still haunted her creator — casting her crimson light wherever he went. He averted his gaze, scared to look down at his own hands.
“Adrien made it known that he does not need my help,” he mumbled, tugging at his sleeves. “I heard him loud and clear.”
“Well, yeah , I guess, but he wasn’t on the other side of the sea when he said that.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he interrupted, more curtly than intended. “I’m redirecting my attention to where it’s actually wanted.”
Only then did Nino notice the hearts on the window, and open eyes wide like saucers. Felix blushed, but made no effort to erase his doodles.
“Dude, you’re in love?”
“Yes,” he replied, with no hesitation.
“No way! With who?”
He opened his mouth, but he did not need to say anything; the cogs were already turning behind the other boy’s eyes, and the answer hit him without needing to be spoken.
“ Wow ,” Nino managed to get out, at a loss for words.
“Wow indeed,” Felix sighed dreamily.
“Dude. That’s like, your cousin’s ex.”
“I snapped you out of existence before, and I’m not afraid to do it again.”
“Well noted.”
Behind his feigned anger, Felix could feel the warmth spreading from his chest to his cheeks. He did not need to check his reflection in the glass panel to know his grin discredited all threats he could possibly make.
“OK, so — you’re going to free Kagami,” Nino said, shaking his head in an effort to chase the shock away. “How’s that going to work?”
“No idea.”
“Come on, you can tell me! It’s not like I’m going to tattle to, like, Hawkmoth or something.”
He had no way of knowing how accurate the example was.
“I told you,” Felix replied, furrowing his brow once more. “I’m retired.”
“Dude, what does that even mean?”
“It means I’m going along with whatever Kagami wants me to do, instead of getting myself into another debacle.”
“Gotcha. So I need to take it up with her, then.”
“What? No!”
Felix shot up from his seat, fuming. This time, he ignored the inquisitive passengers — his steely eyes burning holes in the opposite seat.
“You’re not taking anything up with Kagami,” he hammered. “This is a two-person plan.”
“So there is a plan,” Nino nodded, knowingly.
“And you’re not part of it.”
“I could be! I want to be!”
He reached across the table, but his opponent pulled his arm back with a hiss. That did not seem to deter him.
“Adrien’s my buddy,” Nino insisted, against all common sense. “I just can’t stand there and do nothing while he’s being jailed by his own dad.”
“Adrien doesn’t want your help either,” Felix spat, his nails digging into his own skin.
“Dude, just because he didn’t like you killing everyone doesn’t mean —”
“If he wanted you involved, he would have reached out to you. He had weeks to do so.”
“He must have had his reasons!”
“Kagami had every reason not to tell me. Yet here we are.”
The remark cut deep — deeper than anticipated. The boy sunk into the nylon padding, like he had just received a blow to his stomach.
“Adrien has enough people in his life making decisions for him,” Felix insisted, bitterness seeping through his voice. “It’s obvious he’s decided to ride this storm alone. You need to accept it.”
“Never,” Nino protested, clenching his jaw.
“And what are you going to do about it, exactly?”
“I don’t know!” He finally cried out, his voice catching in his throat. “I don’t know how to help!”
He grabbed his head in his hands, muttering a curse word under his breath.
Felix had not expected such a visceral reaction. It reminded him of Marinette, the night of the ball: how she had gotten herself in trouble for a chance to talk to Adrien, to comfort him, to tell him that she loved him — even if there was nothing she could do to break him out.
The more he learnt about his cousin’s life, the more he doubted his place in it.
“Look, I know I don’t look like much,” Nino whimpered, watching him behind foggy glasses. “But… I love Adrien. I really, really do. It’s not fair that no one will let me help.”
“No,” he replied, sitting back down with an air of defeat. “It isn’t fair.”
A moment passed in silence, except for the whirring of the wheels on the rails.
Nino’s lip wobbled, and Felix mentally begged him not to break into a sobbing mess and make everything a thousand times worse. He seemed to hear his plea, for he threw his head back, battling tears as he stared at the artificial light.
“Man, I wish Ladybug had let me send Mister Agreste into the stratosphere,” he sniffled.
“Into the stratosphere ?”
Something in Felix’s brain clicked — like pieces of a puzzle suddenly coming together. He titled his head, intrigued, but cautious still.
“What do you mean?”
“I got akumatised on Adrien’s birthday,” Nino mumbled, hugging himself.
“What happened?”
“ Nothing ,” he spat. “That’s the problem.”
Something dark passed through his eyes — something Felix was familiar with.
“Adrien’s dad wouldn’t allow him to throw a party,” Nino grunted. “Wouldn’t even have lunch with him that day.”
“That has been the norm ever since my aunt fell ill,” he nodded, matter-of-factly.
Not that he attributed Gabriel’s behaviour to grief of any kind; the incentive to care had simply faded out with his wife.
“I tried to talk to him,” the young boy went on. “Dude, I was like, super respectful and all!”
“You confronted my uncle…?”
“Yeah, and it didn’t go well. He said he didn’t want me around Adrien anymore. He said I was —”
“A bad influence.”
Nino paused, broken out of his spiral, and met his gaze.
“Yeah,” he nodded, somberly. “Yeah, exactly that.”
His hands balled into fists.
“I know this is a bad thought,” he apologised, biting his lip. “One that might get me akumatised. But —”
He looked out the window; maybe to try and calm his nerves, or maybe to assess how far they already were from the threat Paris housed.
“There are no bad thoughts,” Felix pressed on, twisting his ring on his finger. “Only bad actions.”
“Nah, dude. I’m pretty sure that one is like, bad bad.”
“Well, you’re talking to a villain,” he reminded him, resting his chin in his hand. “So go on. Impress me.”
Nino took a deep breath, fidgeting with the rubber bracelets around his wrists — putting them through so much torture it was a miracle none of them broke.
“Sometimes,” he finally admitted, his voice shaking from guilt and from rage, “I wish Mister Agreste was dead.”
Felix leaned forward, his mind swarming with possibilities.
“Tell me more.”