Archive of Our Own

Kagami regained her balance. Strengthened her hold on the shinai. Shifted her feet so her stance was more secure. Gritted her teeth.

Opposite her, Mother. So centred she could probably have remained upright and steady in an earthquake. Her attack had almost knocked the wind out of Kagami, and only a last flash-of-a-second impulse of a dodge had kept her from tumbling to the ground.

“Your ancestors were powerful women, Kagami. Their legacy is yours to bear. And you refuse to carry it properly.”

Kagami gritted her teeth even more.

“Do you have nothing to say for yourself?”

“What do you want me to say, Mother?”

“Remember the female samurai warrior, Kagami!” snapped Mother. Her tone left no room for argument. “Tomoe Gozen! She who never wavered, even when she faced down overwhelming odds!”

“I know, Mother,” said Kagami. She tried to match the stance — but she knew it was pointless. Mother was bigger, stronger, more experienced. Even if Kagami perfectly matched every action, she would be knocked away by that greater strength; even if she tried to feint and do something new, Mother would read her and win.

Kagami had almost never lost a bout, either in fencing or kendo. But every practice round against Mother, the legendary Tomoe Tsurugi, was an exercise in humiliation.

“Her blood runs in your veins,” said Mother. “As her descendant, you must be prepared to face those odds yourself, and grasp victory from the jaws of defeat.”

Kagami acceded.

Kagami attacked.

Kagami had her shinai swept from her grasp, and a moment later Mother’s sword was at her throat.

“What would your forebears think of you, Kagami? When you cannot defeat a woman who is blind?”

“You are my forebear, Mother,” said Kagami. It wasn’t a retort, but she very badly wanted it to be.

“And I am disappointed. Go to your room, and think about your failures and how to surpass them. Do not come out until I call you for supper.”

“... Yes, Mother,” said Kagami. She snatched up her shinai and walked off. It was long ago that she learned to never stomp her feet or huff — if she wanted to be angry, she needed to be angry smartly.

When she got to her room, she threw the sword on the bed and herself into the desk chair. She could huff here, and so she did. And she could stomp, so she drove her heel into the floor. Her forebears? She had never met them. Mother always talked about Tomoe Gozen — the famed samurai. She never talked about the thousands of unremarkable men and women and otherwise who had died and been forgotten. She had four grandparents, eight great grandparents, then sixteen, thirty-two…

If they all had children at twenty, she had twenty-four ancestors born just over the past century. Over the past two hundred years, she would have had one thousand and sixteen. They must have been mundane, worldly, everyday people. If Tomoe Gozen, a samurai from almost a thousand years ago, was the only person in her lineage worth mentioning… then her lineage really wasn’t all that great.

It was a silly impulse. She couldn’t use it to argue with Mother. She wouldn’t feel better about herself if she found out that her forebears were boring and dull. But she still turned on the computer and prepared for research.

Of course Tomoe Tsurugi had her own page on Wikipedia. She was a tech mogul and a kendo and fencing world champion. Kagami had already seen it, because friends had pointed it out to her multiple times, and she had scrolled on it idly just to see if it said anything about herself. The only mention was a note that Tomoe had a daughter. No name, age, place of birth, or anything specified.

This time, though, she went to the ‘Early life’ section. Both of Mother’s parents were named — but only her mother had a page. Ogawa Hoshi, Kagami’s grandmother. Kagami had met her, but she passed away when Kagami was three. Even the funeral was too early for Kagami to remember. All she really knew about Obā-san was that she owned a kendo dōjō. The page didn’t tell her much else, apart from the dōjō’s location being in Matsuyama. But it did link to one of Hoshi’s parents — also the mother. Murata Nori, from Matsuyama.

Nori-sama’s page had rather more information. She was governor of Ehime prefecture for twelve years, and… a skilled swordswoman, by the way the page described her. She worked as an international diplomat, too. Why did Mother never mention Murata Nori, her own grandmother? And Nori-sama’s mother was also significant enough to have her own page: Saitō Ririi, a wealthy merchant and a hobbyist poet. And Ririi-sama’s parents…

This was the first page where both parents had their own page. But the name of Niijima Yae, Nori-sama’s mother, was too significant not to prioritise. She was one of the last samurai, a skilled gunner, an educator and a nurse, someone who fought for women’s rights in Japan. There had been a television show about her, which Kagami had watched. Why had Yae-sama never come up in Mother’s lectures?

Yamamoto Saku, Yae-sama’s mother, had a much smaller page. She had a small entry that listed her family, and mentioned her as a practitioner of medicine. Finally, a boring ancestor — who was then immediately followed by Ichikawa Ran, who was called ‘the Dragon’ and conquered two castles during the Edo period, and who was claimed to have an actual dragon for a father.

The further back she went, the more she found. There was a direct line of significant and powerful women, significant enough to all have pages on Japanese Wikipedia, going from Tomoe all the way back through two thousand years. Oni Gozen. Akamatsu Tōshōin. Seishin-ni. Women depicted as dragons and demons, powerful swordswomen and deadly warlords. Even empresses of Japan, like Genmei-tennō and her daughter Genshō-tennō. Only the men were allowed to be unremarkable — and most of them seemed to be.

Even Tomoe Gozen was on that list. She was a samurai, a symbol of inspiration even until today, and… her most famous story was about when she faced overwhelming odds under her master, Minamoto no Yoshikana, and lost. Then Yoshikana told her to flee, because he would be embarrassed to die with a woman. Not her most interesting ancestor by any stretch, nor her proudest in terms of achievements.

She clicked back to the page about Ichikawa Ran. The Dragon. Like Ryūko. She had a dragon in her lineage, at least metaphorically. That… that had to matter, somehow. If she had all these interesting women in her history, why was only Tomoe Gozen important enough to bring up? The one who was defeated and told to flee by her superior?

Just as she was about to look more deeply into Tomoe Gozen’s battles she heard Tomoe, Ikari Gozen, calling her name from downstairs. She glanced at the clock. 19:37 — she had been here for hours. Pushing away from the desk, she went downstairs for supper.

 —ドラゴンは眠る —

“Hey, Kagami? Are you okay?” asked Adrien.

Kagami looked up at him and blinked. “What?”

“You seemed a little… distant, is all,” he said, sitting down next to her on the bench. He put his sabre between his legs, hilt aimed up and point sticking backwards against the floor. “Everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said. It was, at worst, a half truth. Being so distracted before fencing practice rarely led to good outcomes, but there was nothing truly wrong. It was all just very weird. Her search for her ancestors yesterday had filled her with many thoughts, and she had only barely begun to scratch at them.

Adrien smiled. “Well, that’s good. But… if there is something, I’d be glad to help.”

Kagami looked down at her own sabre, resting in her lap and against her lamé. It was hardly a warrior’s sword — only an imitation. “I will make sure to tell you if there is anything, Adrien.”

“Okay. Good.” He twiddled a little with his fingers. “Ready to go in?”

She nodded, looked up at the clock on the wall. A minute before class started. She flipped down her visor and sighed. “I am ready.”

They stepped out together; most of the others were already out there and swinging their swords around. M d’Argencourt raised his eyebrows at them as they approached their mat, but he remained silent until his watch struck the hour.

“Students!” he said. “Starting today, you will be observed very closely. I will soon be making calls on who gets to participate as competitors,” he emphasised the word with a long drawl, “in the city-wide tournament this September. The three who impress me the most by the seventeenth, will be allowed on the official d’Argencourt team. In service of that, we will start off today with preparatory bouts. No mere practice swings until I allow it. Understood?”

Murmurs were breaking out among the others. Several glances were thrown her and Adrien’s way — which was a matter of course, because they were the two strongest. No doubt they were wondering who would grab the third spot.

“With our introduction out of the way… you may begin. En garde!” he shouted, and everyone got into position. “Prêts?” he asked, a little less loudly — and once everyone had agreed, he was back to shouting. “Allez!”

Blades clashed almost the moment he was done speaking. But Kagami was focused, searching Adrien’s posture to find an opening. The point of her sword circled the air. She knew he was the same way, measuring her up with his sword. His feet seemed slightly off position, though — and that meant she had found her plan of attack, and she wasn’t going to give him more time.

She didn’t touch him with her lunge, but he only barely managed to get away. His counterattack was slow, predictable, and easily parried — unlike her following strike, which seemed to utterly confound him. When she landed a touch on his chest, she felt like she had barely done anything.

They stepped into place again, and prepared to restart the bout. But again, Adrien seemed far slower than his usual form. After she scored five easy touches — and Adrien got one hit on her arm — they returned to their spots and saluted.

“You are less proficient than normal, Adrien,” she said. “Is something troubling you?”

He flipped up his visor. “No, I’m fine,” he said, smiling a little, though there was an awkward tension to his lips. “You’re doing very well today, though. I’ve never seen you move so fast!”

“Perhaps you are distracted. You should focus more, so that we both make a good impression on Monsieur d’Argencourt.”

“... Yeah. I will.” The last thing she saw before he put the visor down again was a determined frown. She answered in kind, even though he couldn’t see her through the mesh.

They bouted again. And again. And again. And at the end of training, he had only managed a touch two times, less than a fifteenth of hers.

 —ドラゴンが目覚める —

Two days after their most recent practice in the garden, Mother was home again from her short business trip. Perched in the living room like a menacing eagle, she ignored Kagami completely — unless Kagami became her prey through making a mistake, or through answering a question in a way that could be twisted to be an admittance of failure.

“Have you finished your homework, Kagami?” — “No, Mother. I still have revisions left for my Russian tutor.” — “Then complete them. I will not accept dawdling”, or: “I asked you to do the dishes, Kagami.” — “I have already done them, Mother.” — “Then you will also take out the trash, and get started on cooking dinner”, or: “How was fencing practice yesterday, Kagami?” — “It went well, Mother.” — “‘Well’ is not good enough. Next time, you must do great.”

After the latter one, Kagami had left the room to be by herself. She was tired of waiting for the next complaint, tired of not hearing a word about all her other ancestors.

It was unthinkable to her that anyone who wanted to talk about the strength of their forebears wouldn’t bring up Ichikawa Ran. Oni Gozen. Genmei-tennō. Even the women who were just artists, like Katsushika Ōi the famous painter, or Midori-kotohiki the musician who served under multiple daimyo in the eleventh century — they were actually interesting to read about. They were accomplished and proud.

She even had a Chinese ancestor — Xiang Ling, Princess Zhenzhen, the daughter of an emperor; she was also the earliest woman Kagami could trace back because Xiang Ling’s mother, the empress consort, didn’t have a Wikipedia entry in any language she spoke. A Chinese ancestor was interesting. It was powerful. It was worthy of attention and remembering, but Mother refused.

When Mother came to her door later that night to give instructions for the following day, Kagami barely listened. She wanted to yell about the women she had discovered, to ask why they were being kept from her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Mother would only take it as an affront, as an admittance of failure. ‘You didn’t look it up for yourself? You lack initiative, Kagami’ — no, she had no desire to do that.

She could talk to Adrien or Marinette instead. Or Félix. People who would have an interest in her, and perhaps even in her ancestors.

If only she could have them, instead of the woman she had to deal with every day.

— ドラゴンが咆哮する —

She stood opposite Mother in the garden again two days later. The same stances as always, the same heavy air between them. Mother’s shinai wasn’t sharp, but it was a blunt club she used to beat things into the shape she wanted them.

“Have you been practising, Kagami?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Then prove to me that you are worthy of your heritage!”

Kagami wouldn’t let herself be upset. Not now. Not by the impossible requirement of beating Tomoe Tsurugi. But the bubbling distaste that lay in her chest, that she was being told to follow in the footsteps of a woman who lost and was told to leave the battlefield, because being a woman was a shame — that the person who kept reminding her about her ancestors was also keeping them from her — still remained.

She wanted to shout about them. To demand answers, even though she knew it would be pointless. But she shifted her stance backwards, for better control, for more strength. Her legs were powerful, and her eyes were sharp, and her sword was going to be flicked away yet again.

When she swung forward, she was surprised to see how slowly Mother moved. She was still quick, but for once in her life Kagami could actually discern the movements as they were happening. She blocked Mother’s counterattack and the shinai didn’t slip from her hands. She stepped back into a defensive position.

“... Again,” said Mother.

“Yes, Mother,” said Kagami.

“I do not like your tone, Kagami.”

She didn’t answer. She only advanced. First a sideways blow that Mother blocked, and an upward strike that Mother avoided. Then Mother’s counteroffensive, a high slice which Kagami stopped with a single-handed overhead block, before two quick consecutive swings that Kagami simply sidestepped.

For a moment, there was an opening. Mother lost her balance as her opponent disappeared to the side. Kagami almost swung her sword to capitalise on it, but something stopped her at the last moment. Instead, she pulled back several steps and went into a guard.

“Are you giving up, Kagami? When you had your chance to strike me?”

“Tomoe Gozen didn’t die in battle,” said Kagami. “She lost the battle of Awazu, and left in disgrace when her commander didn’t let her meet an honourable end by his side.”

Mother stiffened. Or no, she grew still. Like a tree that swayed in the wind, rather than a statue that stood frozen. “Tomoe Gozen was a brave warrior,” she said. “An inspiration to all women of Japan. She slaughtered many foes to win many victories.”

“But she still lost her most famous battle. She was not allowed to face off bravely against overwhelming odds, Mother.”

“That is enough, Kagami. Your insolence angers the ancestors.”

“What ancestors?” snapped Kagami, even though she knew the answer very well. “You have never told me about them. The only one you talk about is the woman who bravely lost.”

“Kagami!” said Tomoe, and her voice carried immense command. “This conversation is over. You will go to your room. We will not speak another word about this.”

“But —”

“Go.” She pointed her shinai towards the house. “Or you will be without supper and breakfast.”

Kagami clenched her jaw. “Fine,” she huffed, and stormed away with stomping feet. She only held on to her sword because she had nowhere to put it that wouldn’t get her yelled at, and as soon as she got to her room she threw it to the floor. It made a small dent. She threw herself onto the bed and buried her face in her pillow.

A few seconds later, she heard a cautious voice behind her. “Kagami-san…”

“I will never be good enough for her, Longg-sama.”

“I understand your frustration. But please do not let yourself be discouraged by her. You have value outside of your mother’s claims, Kagami-san. You are a mighty and powerful hero in service to the city of Paris. You are wise and considerate beyond many others your age.”

Kagami buried her face deeper in the pillow. “What good is that, if I still have to deal with her every day?” The rage from earlier felt like it was tugging on her ribcage, pulling it tighter.

Longg didn’t have an answer. Instead, the kwami’s arm landed on her shoulder.

“Why did she never tell me about the Niijima Yae? Or Oni Gozen? Why does she only want to put me down?”

“... Perhaps she is trying to teach you a lesson of some description,” said Longg.

“If she is… she is teaching it very badly.”

Longg sighed. “I cannot disagree with that conclusion, Kagami-san.”

Kagami kicked both her legs straight, the feathers of her mattress ringing against her body.

Seething disappointment kept her awake until it didn’t, and she fell like a stone into troubled dreams.

— ドラゴンが飛ぶ —

“En garde!” shouted M d’Argencourt. “I want to see your best fencing today! Do not let me down!”

As one, every fencer straightened their backs. Except Kagami. She already knew that hers was as straight as it could be.

“Prêts? Allez!” —

— and everyone was off. Kagami and Adrien observed each other silently for a moment, the only sound they made from the rustling of their gear as they shifted.

Then she saw her shot. She lunged forward — and Adrien didn’t even move until she had already touched him.

He lifted his visor. “Wow… that’s the fastest I’ve seen anyone move! How did you do that?”

She didn’t lift hers. “These are basic fencing techniques, Adrien. Why did you not move?”

“I didn’t even realise you were attacking,” he said. His smile turned sheepish. “Sorry. I’ll try harder. Good job!”

His visor fell down. A minute later, she had landed five touches on him, and he had barely managed a defence against a single one.

“You need to give me a challenge, Adrien,” she said.

“I’m trying,” he said. “Sorry. I just… you’ve gotten way better.”

“I have not,” she said. She could see every hole in his stance now as he returned. She knew she could poke a hole in his defences in any one of a myriad ways. He had gotten worse. His mind must be elsewhere. Maybe he hadn’t slept well enough. “Your stance has deteriorated.”

They sized each other up. She scored another touch while he dawdled.

In the background, someone gasped. She glanced over her shoulder: some of the other fencers had paused their own practice bouts, and were watching her and Adrien’s piste. Several of them had lifted their own visors.

“En garde,” said Adrien, and she turned back to him. They touched the tips of their swords and stepped back a little bit. But they only remained parted for a moment. When she made her attack, she landed a touch on his arm without any issue. She landed two more touches before she noticed d’Argencourt staring too. He seemed to be watching her specifically.

But Adrien seized his opportunity. She had fallen slightly out of stance and his sabre came straight at her — but she simply struck it out of the way and let him fall off the mat.

“Halt!” said M d’Argencourt. “Adrien! Kagami! You will stop practising right now.”

Adrien lifted his visor; Kagami did the same. “... Why?” Adrien asked.

“Because I will face Mlle Tsurugi myself.” He whipped his own sabre forward and put on a helmet he seemed to have gotten off a student, and stepped onto Adrien’s side of the piste. “You seem to have refined your technique, Mlle Tsurugi. However… you seem overly confident. Let me prove to you that you still have a lot to learn.”

“Very well,” she said.

Her first touch against him was landed on her third breath in, her sabre poking against his belly while his arm went wide above her. There was a series of gasps now, even louder than the ones before.

“Harrumph,” said M d’Argencourt. “Again!” She landed five more touches as the murmurs from the onlookers grew steadily more agitated, and morphed into yelps and cheers. d’Argencourt’s face was hidden — but she could see from his posture, the pumping of his chest, that he was on the verge of utter rage. She had landed touches on him before, but never so easily, and never without him putting several on her in return. Now, she didn’t even need to spend any effort to win.

But it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t the person she needed to defeat.

“Allez!” he shouted — and this time, he relied purely on his superior size. He pushed against her, and his sword swung wildly enough that she needed to block it, unless she wanted to jump five feet in the air and land behind him. But even when he pushed against her with both hands, she held him off. And the moment he let off the tiniest amount, she pushed back and threw him off balance, hitting him straight on the front with her sabre.

He pulled off his helmet immediately. His anger was incredible. His nostrils, too, were incredible, pulsing in and out to become twice their size every time he breathed in. “This type of fencing is unacceptable!” he almost yelled. “You are a disgrace to my academy!”

Adrien got up. “M d’Argencourt — that’s nonsense. Kagami followed all the rules. She’s just a very good fencer.”

“No! Non! I will not stand for it. You are doing something and I will not allow it, Mlle Tsurugi.”

Kagami left her own helmet on. She knew that if she took it off, she too would strike a poor figure right now. “M d’Argencourt —”

“Silence!”

“She beat you fair and square, M d’Argencourt!”

“No! She has not beaten anyone! Our bout was to fifteen points, and she has only scored seven. That is not enough to secure a win. And mark my words, I will find out how you cheated. You are expelled from my academy!”

“Sir!” shouted Kagami. “You are being ridiculous!”

"Out! I never want to see you here again!”

The others protested. But Kagami looked into his eyes and saw that they were just like Mother’s. He wasn’t going to listen to her. He wasn’t going to give her anything other than a hard time.

But also… she had beaten him. She, who was thirty years less experienced than him and half his size, had trounced him — and it wasn’t even difficult. Learning about her ancestors had made her stronger. A hundred women, each of them mighty enough to rule a city and win a hundred battles, all lending her their strength.

She straightened up her back and walked calmly towards the changing rooms, as the row behind her continued. No matter what he said, he had lost.

It barely took any time for Adrien to come in after her. “Kagami — are you okay?”

She was taking off her helmet. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because…” He hesitated for a moment. “You were just kicked out of the academy. And… because you don’t sound okay.”

“I am fine, Adrien.” She unzipped her bag and placed the helmet inside. “I shouldn’t want to be taught by someone like him.”

He sucked in air through his teeth. “Yeah… No, that was very bad. That was really terrible of him. But you still feel bad, don’t you?”

“I don’t.”

Once again, he hesitated. “... Okay. But… if you need to talk, or if you — want to talk, I’m here for you. Okay?”

She paused in the middle of putting the sword into her bag. She realised that a tear had just landed on the back of her hand. “... Okay.”

— ドラゴンは昇ります —

Kagami dashed through the streets, red sword in hand. Her target was rounding a corner two blocks away, but she was gaining fast, the shop signs and sidewalk chairs passing in a blur.

A handbag robbery. It was so trite and filmatic it almost deserved an award — the Palme d’Insignificance, or something along those lines. Almost not worth the use of the Miraculous, but if the robber happened to have a weapon she didn’t want to be caught unawares.

She jumped atop the roof and saw the robber halfway down the side street, still hurrying. He wasn’t looking over his shoulders anymore. She decided to grab his attention by jumping down ahead of him, so he would have her fully in view — and he skidded to a halt in front of her, wrapping his arms more tightly around the old woman’s handbag. In one of his hands… a gun.

“Return what you stole,” she said, pointing her sword at him.

He didn’t reply. He just looked her up and down, glanced over his shoulder to make sure nobody was coming up behind him.

“Return what you stole,” she repeated. She glanced down at his gun. He made no indication that he intended to use it.

“S-stay back,” he stuttered. “You — you’re a hero, right? You’re not allowed to use your powers against me. That’s, that’s, that’s vigilantism.”

She frowned. “You are not allowed to steal from old women.”

“That’s di-different! You — you can’t…” He trailed off, seeming to remember the gun in his hand. He aimed it towards her. “Stay back! Let me go!”

“No,” she said. She knew she could dodge a shot. She could become water or wind and let it pass through her, or she could deflect it with her sword. The suit made her powerful. Her ancestors made her powerful, too. With Longg and the spirit of Niijima Yae, she could do anything.

The robber trembled. His fingers clenched the gun again — but then something changed in his eyes, and he threw the gun at her before running away as fast as he could. She knocked the gun out of the air with her sword and surged forward, caught up with him in five strides, kicked his legs out from under him, pounced on his back, twisted his arm —

“Ryūko! Wait!” said a voice behind her, as the man’s terrified scream subsided into something quieter. She stopped twisting, but she didn’t move, didn’t let go.

“Hello, Ladybug,” she said. There was no need to look around, because she’d know Marinette’s voice anywhere. “I have apprehended a robber.”

“Ryūko, you’re hurting him,” said Marinette. “Please let him go.”

Kagami scoffed, a loud ‘tsch’ that seemed to hit the robber like a whip. He sounded like he was crying. Meanwhile, Marinette’s footsteps got closer. “He stole from an old woman. Am I supposed to let him go?”

Marinette’s hand landed on Kagami’s shoulder. “You’re supposed to take back what he stole.”

“He had a gun. He needed to be incapacitated. He was a danger,” said Kagami, and the words rolled out of her like they were destined to be spoken, like a command from her past. She gripped the arm tighter.

“Ryūko…” said Marinette. Something deep and pleading and cowering in the depths of Marinette’s voice knocked a tiny hole in Kagami’s resolve even before she said anything else — but what she said ran spines of ice down Kagami’s back. “His arm is broken. His ribs probably are, too.”

Kagami jolted off the robber, letting go of every part of him. Suddenly, she could hear his pained sobs, his low pleas, could feel the terror shivering through him, could see his wet eyes pouring onto the pavement. His arm was definitely broken, the crack visible through the pale skin on the underside. His shoulder might be dislocated. He could barely be more than a couple years older than her. “... I…”

“I’ll handle this,” said Marinette, stepping forward. Kagami could see her face now under the Ladybug mask — there was a smile on it, but it wasn’t right. It felt like a reprimand, and the shame seeped in through the sides of Kagami’s resolve. She moved backwards, as Marinette called up a lucky charm and cast it to cure the robber, as she helped him to his feet and stroked his shoulder and assured him everything was all right, and that nobody would do anything else to him.

He seemed so… small. So everyday. 

Then he stumbled off in a hurry, and the spell on Kagami broke. She turned to Marinette. “Ladybug — I —”

“Come with me?” Marinette said. Her smile was still wrong, but it was… less wrong. Kagami nodded and followed, and they both took off for the roofs.

They didn’t stop until they reached the top of the Arc de Triomphe — as secluded as any spot on a Wednesday afternoon in Paris.

Kagami turned to Marinette. Her heart was beating way too slowly, but her mouth wouldn’t move.

“... Kagami,” said Marinette, like their suits didn’t matter. “Are you okay?”

“I… don’t know.” It was as honest as she could be. She could see the robber’s terrified face as he scrambled to get away from her, as she woke up from what felt like a dream. “I feel strange.”

“I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“He — he had a gun.” She knew as she said it that that wasn’t the real reason. Or at least, not the full reason. “I had a responsibility to take him out.”

Marinette sighed and took out the gun. She pointed it at the stone underfoot, and… clicked the trigger. There was no shot, and no burst of noise. “It wasn’t loaded,” she said. “He only had it to scare people away. It was stupid, but he wasn’t dangerous.”

“I couldn’t have known that,” snapped Kagami.

“... Couldn’t you?” said Marinette. Her voice was low and meek again, and it dug through to Kagami’s centre, tore at the strings of anger that were still in there. “He didn’t have the gun on him when you broke his arm. Even if you did… we both know that a gun couldn’t hurt you in your suit.” She frowned. “Is that why you hurt him? Were you just scared?”

Kagami looked away. She heaved her whole body with her next breath. The robber’s terrified expression flashed over her mind’s eye. She imagined how she herself must have seemed — a literal superpowered being, with a sword and an angry mask, crushing him into the pavement. “... No. I wasn’t scared.”

Her eyes met Marinette’s. She already decided she could speak with Marinette about this, didn’t she?

“It’s my mother,” she half-whispered. 

“Did something happen?”

It felt so strange to have a conversation like this — to speak like Ryūko about Kagami, to Marinette in the shape of Ladybug. “... I can never be good enough for her.”

“But you can’t take that out on other p-”

“I know,” snapped Kagami. Then — she unclenched her fists, breathed in through her nose. It had happened again. “I apologise for my anger. You do not deserve it. I know I shouldn’t take things out on other people.”

Marinette held on to her surprised look for a while. But when Kagami closed her mouth, she softened into something more friendly. Less superhero-leader-like. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes. I do want to talk about it.”

“Sit with me, then?” Marinette held out her hand.

Kagami took the hand, and they sat down together. She didn’t let go straight away. There was a comfort in it that she was sure she didn’t need, but that still felt terrible to part with. Both their backs against the parapet, she looked sideways at Marinette.

“I am very angry,” she said. “I have been angry for days.”

“Is it about you getting kicked out of d’Argencourt’s academy?”

“No,” she snapped. “No… Yes. I don’t know.” She sighed and closed her eyes. Marinette’s hand squeezed against hers for a moment. “... Can I start from the beginning?”

“Sorry. Yes. Of course.”

The wind, too, was far too gentle. She felt like it ought to push against her, just like Mother, just like M d’Argencourt. That way, this conversation could feel meaningful, like she were actually overcoming something. But she was just talking to her best friend, in painfully pleasant weather.

“... I looked into my family,” she started. “My ancestors. All the way back for over two thousand years. There are empresses, samurai, governors, leaders, soldiers. Artists and writers and nurses too. But Mother never told me about any of them. She only talked about the one who had to flee after losing, because her commander didn’t want her by his side when he died. He thought dying along with a woman would be dishonourable, so she fled.”

“So… you think she’s kept them from you?”

Kagami frowned, still with her eyes closed. “I don’t know,” she said. “She tells me to be brave and face down overwhelming odds. Like Tomoe Gozen. When I do, and I fail, she berates me. When I do and I get the upper hand, she gets angry. Like all she wants to do is just to… control me.”

It wasn’t a realisation. It was just the first time she spoke the words aloud. She finally opened her eyes and looked aside at Marinette, who was watching her sympathetically.

“She definitely does that,” said Marinette, and she smiled a little, and Kagami couldn’t help but snort even though it stung her insides to hear it said so lightly, and then Marinette snorted too before inching a little closer and putting her hand on Kagami’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with her.”

Kagami breathed out. “But now that I know about them… I feel stronger. Like they are lending me their strength. I defeated Adrien and M d’Argencourt easily, and I know I could defeat Mother in kendo. Look —” She pulled up her sword and opened the phone screen, so she could find the webpages. It only took half a minute to find Murata Nori’s page, and from there she clicked backwards little by little. “She was a governor and a diplomat. Her mother — Saitō Ririi, my great great grandmother, did business and wrote poetry. Her mother, Niijima Yae, was a samurai and a teacher.”

She clicked past Saku-sama’s page, and went on to Ichikawa Ran, whose description pulled out a smile from Marinette. “The dragon,” she said. “Do you think she held Longg?”

Kagami hesitated. “I… haven’t asked. I will do so later.”

“Who else? Who’s… Katsushika Ōi?”

“She was a painter. And there are empresses and daimyo and samurai. Honourable women, in a direct line of mothers all the way down to me. And Mother wants to keep them from me.”

“I see,” said Marinette. She looked straight ahead for a moment, and Kagami felt her heart falling. Had she bored her best friend? But then Marinette continued: “You know… I think it’s great you’re finding out about this. But… they don’t make you you, you know?”

“They are my heritage.”

“So is your mother. And I don’t think you’re anything like her.”

Kagami closed her mouth. It felt like Marinette had just landed a touch on her, but she had no idea where or how.

“We’re good friends, right? And I don’t know your ancestors, but I still like you. I like you a lot better than I like empresses and warlords who cut people’s heads off. You know?”

“I… think so…”

Marinette smiled, though the smile was awkward and undirected and seemed to fizzle out into thin air. “You know what? For my money, I think I liked the ones who didn’t fight the best. Like Katsu — Katshusi — the Ōi one — or the nurses or the musician. You’re strong, Kagami, and I’m really glad I didn’t have to pull you off that guy earlier, because you would definitely have won if we were to fight. But I think, I think I like you more when you paint and draw and you just… stand up for things and are brave.

“And you know what else I think? I’m glad Tomoe Gozen didn’t die in that battle. She didn’t need to die. And I don’t think you need to do that, either. I don’t want you to do that.”

This time, Marinette’s smile did point at Kagami, and it pierced straight through her. Kagami had been angry before, she had been angry yesterday and for days before that, but the admission and the warmth completely boiled that feeling away. Even the question she had asked herself so many times — ‘why only Tomoe Gozen’ — felt pointless and insignificant now. For all she knew, it was because Tomoe wanted to talk about her namesake, because she was prideful and petty.

Kagami gracelessly threw herself forward and wrapped her arms around Marinette, and got Marinette’s knee digging into her thigh but also Marinette’s embrace around her back. “Thank you,” she said.

“No problem,” said Marinette. “I mean, it’s what I feel so it’s only right you should hear it. You aren’t your ancestors. What your mother wants isn’t what you need to do. Take the ancestors you like — and bring them with you. I think that matters.”

Kagami pulled back. She couldn’t help a silly little smile from manifesting on her face. “You say you don’t like empresses, Marinette,” she said. “But do you know who was my earliest ancestor I could find? She was a daughter of the Chinese emperor more than two thousand years ago. Xiang Ling.”

“Really?” Marinette’s eyes went wide. “So you’ve got royal blood from two countries?”

“Yes,” said Kagami, nodding. “Perhaps you are also related to Xiang Ling.”

Marinette smiled. “I hope not. But… I guess I’d be proud to share an ancestor with you.”

They spoke a little longer. Then they parted and went back to their respective homes. As the sunset cast the city in orange and gold, Kagami thought mostly about Katsushika Ōi — and decided that tonight she was going to paint, no matter what Mother wanted.

— ドラゴンは平和です —

Tomoe stood in the garden, holding her shinai out, and Kagami could see every imperfection in her stance, every potential point of attack.

“Come,” Tomoe said, “into the maw of the lion. Your ancestors demand it of you.”

Kagami fastened her grip on her own shinai. “Very well, Mother,” she smiled. “I will.”