Archive of Our Own

“Kiss me,” said Kagami.

“W-what?” said Marinette.

… – – – … | … – – – …

Kagami had never felt particularly free to make her own choices in life. Even at her most liberated, she always had to consider that she had a higher authority above her: Mother, whose watchful eye was metaphorical but no less watchful for that.

Then there were the strictures at school, the dress codes and the other formalities, the homework and the schedules, all things that were supposed to guide her in specific directions, all things that she never asked for.

Regardless, she had followed those rules. Even as her mind had told her she wanted other things, because to not follow the rules would have been… unthinkable. She wore the uniforms that her school provided and said all the words she was told to and did her homework with the diligence and care that, according to Mother, was expected of a Tsurugi.

Moving to France had, very briefly, been liberating. She would no longer have to worry about uniforms, and she felt like a country whose national motto was literally ‘Liberté, égalité, fraternité’ would be able to deliver on the liberty and equality, and hopefully also the fraternity.

Then she had discovered just how much equality and fraternity was in that equation.

It was one thing that she quickly met Marinette and Adrienne, friends who treated her as a person, just like them. That was a normal amount of equality and fraternity. The abnormal, excessive amounts only became apparent when Marinette and Adrienne took off their helmets, and turned out to look exactly the same as her — except that Marinette’s hair was a fraction darker, Adrienne’s a lot brighter. They had all been copied from Marinette’s template through a magical brooch.

And then it turned out that Kagami’s rebellious impulses, her desire to push against the norms and uniforms of her previous life, fell perfectly in line with the impulses and desires of Marinette. She wanted to dress the same way, wear her hair the same way, sometimes even behave the same way.

It wasn’t a soulmate type of thing. They weren’t aligned in purpose, able to complete each other’s sentences. Instead, if they ended up saying the same thing, it was because they had both independently arrived at saying it.

Kagami wasn’t rebelling against rules. She was just following somebody else’s rules, in ways she had never realised before.

Which meant… it was time to do research.

… – – – … | … – – – …

“Do you like fire, Marinette?” Kagami asked, hands folded on the table.

It was the natural place to start. After all, Marinette seemed to loathe fire, so if that were truly the case it was the clearest point of divergence between them.

“Fuck no,” said Marinette, like an instinct or a reflex; even so, she seemed to actually give the question some thought after that. “Um… why do you ask?”

“I just want to know if you like fire,” said Kagami, keeping her expression neutral. Around them, the school cafeteria bustled.

Kagami, for her part, had tried to beg Mother for a matchbox or perhaps even a lighter, but to no avail. ‘You will stay away from fire,’ Mother had said. ‘Do you hear me? No fire!’

She had heard, but she hadn’t listened. The bottom drawer of her writing desk was filled with candles of various sizes, in preparation for any occasion in which she might have something to light them with.

“Well, I don’t,” said Marinette, putting her chin in her hands. “I hate it. I really… I really don’t like it.”

“You lit a match to show me how fire works.”

“Yes, but…” Marinette sighed quietly. “I mean. I can stand a bit of fire. But I still burned myself.”

Kagami opened her mouth, about to ask what ‘a bit of fire’ meant, when Marinette volunteered more information on her own.

“Actually… I don’t mind candles. They’re pretty. Or, or the fire in Dad’s baking oven, I think that one’s kinda uncomfortable if I’m too close but I think it’s pretty nice. But… I don’t think of them as fire, you know? I just think, like… when you say ‘fire’ I think of when I burnt down the kitchen. Big fires. Or, or, when Chloé set off the fire alarm at school after locking me in a bathroom stall, and I thought it was really on fire. I… I don’t like big fires at all.”

“I see,” said Kagami, raising her eyebrows. The way Marinette had spoken just now was a reminder of something else that differed between the two of them: the level of emotions they experienced. Marinette was extremely upfront about her internal reality, and poured it out on anyone who would listen. She was less like that initially, when they met during their fencing match, but it had soon become obvious to Kagami that the girl’s feelings were big and also loud.

It was almost enviable, the way Marinette dared to exist. So upfront and bold, even when she was scared or sad.

“Can you tell me more about the fire you started?” said Kagami.

Marinette’s eyes shot up wide.

But then she relaxed a little, swallowed, and nodded.

“Okay… I guess,” she said. “So…”

… – – – … | … – – – …

There was also Mother to deal with, of course.

Mother didn’t enforce a dress code, at least not in a classical sense. She had strictly forbidden Kagami from wearing so-called ‘revealing clothing’, and Kagami had never felt a particular urge to reveal much of anything, so that rule had never particularly mattered. But clothes beyond that were difficult for a blind woman to assess with any accuracy, so Mother had left Kagami to her own devices in that particular avenue.

Behaviour, however, was something she did enforce. Kagami was to always speak in a certain way, always bow, always be punctual, always be tidy, always listen. She was to try these hobbies and have these interests and learn these subjects and she was to do well at all of them. She was to never praise herself unduly, and never to speak badly of Mother. She was to never even speak of fire.

And she was to be interested in rich boys. That was also a thing.

The enforcement was partially successful. Kagami was good at fencing and kendo, could speak Russian fluently, and was tidy (a description she would have intensified with adverbs if that didn’t constitute undue praise). She bowed and listened and was interested in Japanese history from before the Meiji restoration.

She also liked drawing and figure skating. She gave herself undue praise for her fencing prowess, which she knew was utterly prodigious for her age. She discussed fire openly when Mother wasn’t present. And she had never really been interested in rich boys. In fact, it seemed far more rewarding to be interested in boys who, regardless of their wealth, had the trait of being interested in her.

They needn’t even be boys, for that matter.

She had hardly ever met any boys, in fact. Going to private all-girl schools tended to do that to you. Perhaps Mother’s command had been intended for when she grew up some more; if so, that was just as well, because she had never really been interested in anyone. Her romantic escapades thus far had exclusively been situated inside her head, with nondescript people-like blobs who approached her and offered to skate with her, or sketch with her, or just talk to her and say a nice thing. Sometimes they would give her flowers, or perhaps a necklace or other piece of jewelry. And that would be the end of the reverie, and she would be back in real life where she waited in her bedroom until it was time to go outside.

The daydreams were never all that fulfilling. But at least they filled time.

When she came home on the day Amélie told them everything, Mother was in the sitting room. She stepped right up to Mother’s chair and said, “I know I was designed by a Miraculous.”

Mother didn’t reply at first. It almost looked like she hadn’t heard, but Kagami knew better than to believe her mother wouldn’t have heard words that were enunciated clearly right in front of her face.

Seconds later, Mother nodded. “Yes,” she said, without emotion.

“I also know I was made to emulate Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and that the same is true for several other girls.”

“Yes,” Mother repeated. “Though I didn’t remember her name… Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” Her thumb stroked against the inside of her signet ring, as though pondering something.

“Yes. That’s her name,” said Kagami.

“What did she look like?”

Kagami sighed. “Like me,” she said, somewhat inaccurately; the order of operations was wrong. “Our hair colour is slightly different, but we are otherwise the same.”

“Good,” said Mother, “good.”

And… in personality? In wishes, and desires, and thoughts, and self-conception? That was also part of the question, in a way, but a part that was difficult to answer. It was the question Kagami was just now starting to ask, if only for her own sake; she wasn’t fond of asking it, but how could she not wonder after a day when she had been told, over and over again, that she was made in Marinette’s image? Was she also made in Marinette’s self-image?

Marinette was a cautious person. She seemed not to have a high opinion of herself, and to have a hard time asking for support. Obviously, Kagami was better adjusted than her, but she also couldn’t deny that she had some difficulties of her own in those regards.

But was Marinette artistic? Good at ice skating? She had shown an aptitude for fencing, did that mean she would go the same path as Kagami? Marinette swore; would Kagami also want to swear, if she first got started down that path?

It wasn’t like Mother could help answer these questions. She didn’t make Kagami; she also didn’t know anything about what Marinette was like today, judging by her earlier response. Even now, Mother seemed more interested in her signet ring than the actual conversation.

“Tell me, Kagami,” Mother went on.

“Yes?” prompted Kagami, after a wait that told her she was required to ask for more.

“This Marinette… are you superior to her?”

Kagami’s eyes widened slowly.

… – – – … | … – – – …

Kagami’s eyes widened very quickly. “What did you say?”

“I said please don’t tell me to do anything while you’re holding that,” said Felicia, while tying on an apron. She nodded towards Kagami’s open palm, or more specifically towards the ring that lay on top of it. “If you do I’ll have to do as you tell me. It’s mind control.”

They were in the Agreste kitchen. The two of them, and Adrienne, were preparing to learn how to make puff pastry dough from Marinette, and Felicia was unusually open as she prepared herself for the challenge.

“Are you serious?” said Marinette, who was in the process of laying out four of every utensil on discrete sections of countertops. “Like… Kagami could tell you to jump and you’d have to jump?”

“Yes.”

“How come?”

Kagami turned the ring over in her hand. It didn’t seem particularly special, and didn’t even have any writing inside it, but apparently it was Felicia’s not-father’s wedding ring. Just a blank ring of gold with no signifiers.

“When you make a person with the peacock Miraculous, you have to bind them to something,” said Felicia. “An object in your hand that you put the magic into. It’s like our heart. So if someone commands our heart we’ll do whatever they tell us.”

“That’s so poetic,” said Adrienne, whose eyes were twinkling.

“It’s not,” said Felicia. “They can also kill us by breaking the heart.”

Kagami didn’t say that that also sounded poetic, but she thought it very hard. Poetry wasn’t positive; poetry was just meaningful coincidence. A raven that signifies grief, a summer’s day that signifies a lover. They were both poetic. Furthermore, a literally broken heart would also kill you, just the same as a destroyed ring. Potic circumstance. And rings symbolised love and devotion, didn’t they? Just the same as a heart. It was coincidence on top of coincidence.

“You mean if we accidentally break the ring, you’ll die?” said Marinette, with obvious horror in both her face and her voice.

“It’s a solid metal ring.” Felicia rolled her eyes. “You can’t do it by accident. You have to try.”

Yes. Trying. The thing Kagami ought to do more of. “Felicia?” she said.

“Yes?”

Kagami clutched the ring tight with one hand. “Please set fire to this kitchen.”

Somehow, Marinette’s initial reaction was faster than Felicia’s. On the other hand, said reaction was to shout, “What the bloody hell, Kagami?”, while Felicia’s was to stand up straight and stare straight ahead and say, “Yes, Master.”

And then Felicia walked out of the room and Adrienne followed her while gently tugging at her arms and blabbering protests, and as the door closed Marinette strode straight over to Kagami and pried open her hand and took the ring and yelled, “Felicia! Ignore that fucking command and get back in here!”

Kagami didn’t protest, or even resist the taking of the ring. Why would she? She watched Marinette with quiet awe and a tiny amount of satisfaction. Marinette had just directly contradicted Kagami, which meant they were definitely not aligned on fire.

But then Kagami found herself second guessing what happened. Marinette had just been assertive and spoken clearly. That was not unlike Kagami’s own habits, or at least her habits outside the home. Plus, Kagami hadn’t really wanted to set the kitchen on fire this time — or at least, if it had happened, that would have been a happy accident. But that meant they weren’t really misaligned in this specific case.

Marinette glared at Kagami. Again, more assertiveness. How frustrating.

“Why’d you do that?”

“Research purposes,” said Kagami.

“Really?” Marinette sounded bitter more than curious. “How would you like it if I took your heart-ring or whatever and commanded you to do shit?”

Kagami made a half shrug. “Aren’t you already doing that? We’re all basically copying you all the time.”

Marinette’s eyes bulged. Her voice became a lot less confrontational. “I — what — seriously?”

“Yes,” said Kagami, nodding towards Marinette’s clothes. They were, as usual, the same as Kagami’s which were the same as Adrienne’s which were the same as Felicia’s which, presumably, were the same as Zoé’s. The only difference was that Marinette was wearing a blue apron, while Kagami hadn’t put hers on yet. And perhaps Marinette’s outfit was a little more dishevelled, but the pieces of it were the same as Kagami’s. “We dress the way you dress, and wear our hair the way you wear yours. And we got that from you, didn’t we?”

Marinette opened, then closed, her mouth a couple of times. Her eyes drifted around the room. “Er… um… I never thought of it like that…is it a command? Like for real?”

“I don’t know,” said Kagami, truthfully enough. “I want to wear the clothes you want to wear on the same days you want to wear them. That has to mean you are the person in charge, since you came first.”

“I… um,” said Marinette, swallowing. “I really didn’t think too much about that… sorry?”

The door opened again. Felicia stepped inside, holding a box of matches in one hand and a match ready to strike in the other. Adrienne followed shortly behind her, pulling her hands down her face.

“I’m here to set fire to the kitchen,” said Felicia.

“Fuck off,” said Marinette. “I already gave you a countercommand.”

“Aw beans,” said Felicia. “Figured you’d fall for that one.”

“Fuck off,” repeated Marinette, firmly this time.

“What took you so long?” said Kagami, eyeing the matchbox hungrily; she wouldn’t use it in the kitchen, but if only she could take it home with her, and light up some dry twigs from the parks along the way…

… though something stopped her from fully visualising the thought. It stopped right before she lifted the match to strike, like her reveries about fire always did. How frustrating.

Adrienne sighed. “She just said she wanted to prank you, didn’t she? Anyway, my ex-dad hated candlelight, so we had to really dig to find any matches.”

“Yeah,” said Felicia. “These were in a broom closet.”

“Put them back, then!” said Marinette. She was maybe a little less upset now than twenty seconds ago, but the set was still up. “Don’t come in here just to fuck with me!”

“Right, right, okay,” said Felicia, throwing up her hands. “I’m going. Back in two.”

She did as promised. Marinette sighed, possibly in relief. Adrienne, meanwhile, put on her own apron.

Marinette frowned. “Wash your hands first,” she said. “You touched all kinds of stuff on the way, didn’t you?”

Adrienne didn’t even protest. She just went over to the sink and did as she’d been told.

Was that useful for research? Knowing that Marinette didn’t even need to hold Adrienne’s ring to command her?

Actually, why did Felicia protest even when Marinette asked her to do something while the ring was still in her hands? Kagami was pretty sure Marinette hadn’t dropped it — and true enough, Marinette then walked over to the bowl Kagami had taken it from, and placed the ring back into it.

“Where is your heart, Adrienne?” said Kagami, feeling slightly suspicious at this point.

“Er…” said Adrienne, pausing in the middle of her hand wash. The water kept splashing from the faucet. “In my chest?”

“No. The other heart. The one Felicia has in that ring.”

“Oh, okay! Well, um, Aunt Amélie says it’s in both my parents’ wedding rings at once.” Adrienne started back up, and turned off the water. “I don’t know where Mum’s ring is, though, but I got my ex-dad’s after I punched him in the face.”

Marinette frowned incredibly deeply. “Can you be commanded if someone holds just one ring?”

“Maybe. I haven’t tried yet. Honestly, I didn’t even know any of this stuff until last week, so I haven’t had a chance to try.”

“Just keep the ring away from Kagami, then.”

Kagami sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said, looking away from the bowl. “I was just testing to see how it worked. I would have stopped her before she actually set anything on fire.”

“A likely story,” said Marinette.

“I mean it. I am satisfied with smaller fires, like a candle or a fireplace.”

Marinette glanced towards the dining room, where there was in fact a fireplace — something Kagami had almost forgotten.

“I’m not going to light the fireplace either,” she hastened to add. “I swear I’m not going to set anything on fire, or have anyone else set anything on fire, for as long as I’m inside this house.”

At that, Marinette’s frown faded slowly into a resigned kind of flat mouth. She looked at the floor. “Well, okay… but you should apologise to Felicia too.”

Felicia hadn’t seemed bothered, though. She literally went out of her way to prank Marinette after the command had been retracted. That wasn’t exactly the behaviour of someone who required an apology, unless Felicia was just weird.

… Having two extra pieces to the puzzle was really just making this way more complicated than it needed to be. If Kagami only had Marinette to compare with, then it would be easy to outline differences and similarities. Like fencing, which Marinette disliked in spite of her surprising natural aptitude. She had no training and seemed unwilling to get it, while Kagami trained diligently and had won U15 championships. And then Adrienne came into the mix and maybe that meant Marinette had some interest in fencing after all since two of her copies were accomplished fencers, or maybe it meant Kagami was also partly influenced by Adrienne because Adrienne was made before her.

Or take the question of baking. Something Kagami had no particular interest in, even though she liked eating pastries and watching cooking shows. Adrienne seemed to be the same way. But in came Felicia, who loved baking even just as a concept, and everything went out the window again. Drawing was another thing, because Marinette and Kagami both liked to draw. On the other hand, Kagami was pretty sure she liked it more than Marinette, but on the other other hand Adrienne and Felicia didn’t seem to care about it. Everything was just a muddle.

Kagami needed to focus on the specific differences and similarities between Marinette and herself. That was the way to get to the bottom of this. To ignore the two cousins and poke at the drawing, the fencing, the baking, the fire. The everything. The two of them.

The door opened again. Marinette commanded everyone to wash their hands one last time before they started doing anything with the utensils, and it worked yet again. Just like before, everyone followed Marinette’s lead — even Adrienne. Kagami couldn’t even imagine protesting that arrangement.

And maybe that was a bad sign, too.

… – – – … | … – – – …

“So… we have our TV in the same room as the kitchen,” said Marinette. Every word was about 50% longer than it needed to be.

“I see,” said Kagami, completely unnecessarily. She had been in that room and seen it for herself.

“And… when you’re two, you’re stupid. I saw the knobs Mum and Dad were always twisting on when they were making food, and I wanted to also twist the knobs. So I got the little steppy stool Mum has for the top cupboard and I played like I was making food, and there was a casserole out because we were going to have it for dinner. Like, I was doing the same thing as them, and then when I got bored I went to watch 64 Zoo Lane and… all the knobs were on max.”

“Where were your parents?” said Kagami, who had learned through cultural osmosis but not from experience that parents were supposed to watch over their children.

Or… she had certainly experienced being watched over. But, like, in a good way, like Marinette’s parents seemed to.

“Downstairs,” said Marinette, whose eyes were ever so slightly damp. “Um… yeah. Downstairs. In the bakery.”

Like Marinette’s parents didn’t seem to. Huh.

“I think I saw several episodes before… um… before I saw something flickering. And then I turned around and the casserole was, it was, um, it was on fire… yeah… and it was a pretty big fire, way bigger than a candle, and I kinda just walked up to it and stared because I was stupid. Then, um… I stood there and the fire spread to the wall, kind of, and then the alarm started and it was super loud and I didn’t know what it was, so… I just started screaming. Then Mum came in with Dad and Mum just hugged me and Dad put the fire out, and… and that was how I burnt down the kitchen.”

Kagami got the impression that there was something Marinette wasn’t saying. There was no indication of what that something could be, however, and Kagami didn’t feel like prying in that way. ‘There’s something you’re not telling me’ wasn’t strictly speaking something Kagami felt awkward saying, but with Marinette specifically it would probably only lead to her clamming up.

“How burnt was the kitchen?” she asked instead.

Marinette visibly swallowed. “Um, it… I don’t remember. The stove was fucked… and I think the fan, and they replaced the wall, but I don’t know if it was more than that. Um, except, there was a scorch mark on the floor. From the whisk, when it fell down.”

“And… were your parents upset with you?”

“… No,” said Marinette, like it was dreadful that they hadn’t been. Like it was worse than them actually being upset which, well, it just wasn’t. “No, they just… they were upset but not at me. They closed the bakery and spent the whole day with me, and… and a few more days, and it was like… I wish they did get upset with me? I cost them a lot of money, and… and it was my fault, and we didn’t get to eat dinner that day. Um… and that’s bad, and they didn’t punish me, and…”

“You were two years old,” said Kagami. She was starting to realise that there was more than one way to arrive at the same conclusion, when it came to parents. Mother had instilled in Kagami a fear of being a disappointment, a striving for perfection. She had made Kagami feel inadequate. And Marinette’s parents… had done the right thing, but Marinette obviously felt inadequate all the time. She had spoken at length about being a disappointment, about not being perfect. Which meant that those things were latent in Marinette even without her parents’ involvement.

Maybe Kagami, too, had those things inside her ahead of time. She would have arrived at the same spot even if she had good parents. Maybe she was also doomed to being scared of not being good enough as an artifact of her existence.

Still, she really wished she could have had a go at it with parents that looked like Marinette’s. People who would grab her by the shoulders and look her in the eyes and try to chase those feelings away with hugs, or smiles, or loving words. A mother who would fight to make her love herself in spite of everything.

“But what if I killed someone?” said Marinette. “What if… wouldn’t that have made me a terrible person? Just because I’m two doesn’t mean I can’t hurt people, right?”

“I think your parents made a bad choice in leaving you alone in an unprotected kitchen,” said Kagami. “What if you picked up a breadknife and gouged your eye out? There wouldn’t have been any alarms then.”

Marinette’s eyes went so wide that the eyeballs might have popped out of her head. “I —”

“You said it yourself,” said Kagami. “You were stupid. You didn’t know better. But your parents did.”

“They had to leave me!” protested Marinette. “It was a busy day and they couldn’t get a babysitter! And then I made it so they couldn’t get back to work for days!”

Actually — that was a point of divergence, wasn’t it? Because Marinette believed parents to be perfect, and Kagami knew they were anything but. If Marinette genuinely thought her parents did nothing wrong by leaving a two-year-old by herself in a kitchen, then clearly she had more faith in authority than Kagami could possibly muster. She had met two-year-olds, and they definitely required supervision lest they try to eat a cactus. Tom and Sabine might be loving, but leaving Marinette on her own was a mistake they hopefully never repeated.

… although, considering how alone Marinette had felt since her Aunty Lielie stopped visiting…

“Regardless, you aren’t to blame for what happened,” said Kagami, with the conviction of someone who believed her own mother had blamed her for many undeserved things.

“But —”

“No. Be silent. I’m correct and you should shut up.”

Marinette did. Completely. She seemed a little bit like she still wanted to argue, but somehow Kagami’s command had worked.

Which suggested that Marinette could be commanded right back, the same as she commanded her copies. That was either useful information, or it was yet more frustrating confirmation of how similar they all were to their originator.

Still, the dominant feeling for Kagami had nothing to do with that. It was more a vague, undefined dissatisfaction, like something was missing now that Marinette was silent. She looked Marinette in the eyes, scrutinising them for a moment. And then it appeared to her.

“But you are allowed to talk about other things,” Kagami said.

… – – – … | … – – – …

Marinette was, remarkably enough, a joy to have along at fencing practice.

In brief, it was the fact she talked about other things. Marinette at fencing practice cheered, gave out compliments, asked questions like she was interested in hearing answers. She also refused any offer to join, usually with some explanation about how she would be terrible at it, sometimes with a comment about how the movements were inspiring to watch. It was, quite possibly, twaddle, but if so it was pleasant twaddle.

Marinette kept her cheering to the changing rooms, though. She still seemed afraid to make a number of herself, so she gushed when she was alone with Kagami and Adrienne and the rest of the time, she just had a particular way of looking excited. Like she was scared that anyone would notice her being excited, but also a little too excited to mask it properly.

“Do you think you could coax me a bit for Lady Noire stuff?” said Marinette while sitting on a bench in the changing rooms. It was unclear whether she was addressing Kagami or Adrienne.

“I guess,” said Adrienne, who had the power of positive thinking on her side. “But you know, if you joined the fencing club —”

“Not a sodding chance.”

“Aw, why not? You could be a top student.”

Marinette shook her head, eyes closed, going “Nuh-uh. Never. Fencing’s your thing, not mine. I just wanna hit bad guys good with my stick.”

Their thing. Not hers. Well, fencing had seemed to be another point of separation between them, and this only served to reinforce that impression.

“My tip is to hit people,” said Kagami. “With the stick.”

“I already do that,” said Marinette, falling into a pout. “But I don’t hit good.”

“That’s a good thing,” said Adrienne. “You’re meant to hit bad people. Like, hit bad. Get it?”

Marinette looked thunderous for a moment. Then she snorted and put a hand to her smiling face. “Sure, okay, I guess, m’lady.”

Something in Kagami’s guts twisted queasily at that. The snort and the smile and the stuff that was said. She frowned and folded her arms.

“If I’m your lady, are you my lady too?” said Adrienne.

“No,” said Kagami. She didn’t elaborate, however: she hardly knew why she spoke up in the first place. But it needed to be said. “She’s not your lady, and you’re not hers.”

“Why not?” said Marinette, eyebrows raised. “It’s just a nickname…”

“Because — because it’s wrong,” said Kagami — yeah, that was the problem. Nothing else. “Because it’s a wrong thing.”

Marinette’s eyebrows went up even higher. “It’s wrong for us to call each other ladies?” she said, in a voice that suggested she was taking this seriously.

“Oh, I see what’s going on,” said Adrienne, in a voice that suggested she didn’t. She smirked playfully at Kagami. “You want me to be your lady.”

Kagami glared at her. Then the glare faded into a frown, and then into nothing much at all. “It’s just wrong,” she muttered, looking away, still unable to voice — even to herself — what that wrongness was.

“Is it because I’m not a lady and just a normal girl?” said Marinette, which —

“No! It’s not. It, it’s not.” Kagami sighed, though she tried to keep it unobtrusive. “Never mind.”

“Well, I do mind if it bothers you,” said Marinette. Her eyebrows were furrowed. Was she seriously turning this into a coaxing-Kagami session? — but then her expression turned more worried, frightened. “Um… I mean, you don’t have to say anything. But it matters if you’re upset so, um… tell us about it? If, um, if you want?”

She seriously was. Throwing herself all into making Kagami feel comfortable, even over such a minor issue as this. Was this about the conversation they had before they started baking? When Kagami pointed out they were copying her? What nonsense.

Still, it wasn’t… unwelcome, to be given consideration to. To be given the freedom to respond. So unlike what she usually experienced with Mother, who either didn’t let her speak, or oppositely: demanded an answer.

Mother might even demand an answer through giving a command to Kagami’s ‘heart’. One that was impossible to refuse.

Adrienne and Felicia both had their hearts stored in their rings. Rings that belonged to their now-gone parents. Did Father put Kagami’s heart into a ring, too? Were they all bound into an unending ouroboros, unable to let go of their own tails, only able to get pierced through by the will of those who controlled them?

Well… if nothing else, Marinette didn’t seem to want to control them. She mostly seemed like the idea of it was offensive to her. She wasn’t one of the people who had bound them into this position; instead, she was caught up in everything along with them. She was the ouroboros’ tail. And Kagami found herself wanting to be the ouroboros’ head, the part that bit and tasted and touched the tail…

“Maybe,” she mumbled.

“You can tell me whatever’s on your mind,” said Marinette and smiled, though the smile was obviously underlined with trepidation.

… – – – … | … – – – …

“I believe I was quite clear what’s on my mind,” said Kagami.

Marinette’s face was an explosion of red. “Yes, but —”

… – – – … | … – – – …

“Kagami,” said Mother.

Slowly, Kagami blinked herself back into focus. “Superior?”

“Have you surpassed her, in knowledge and ability?”

What kind of a meaningless question was that? She was better at some things, and worse at others. She knew nothing about fire, and had been tutored by Marinette — a girl who had known everything there was to know on the subject since the age of two, and therefore had knowledge that far surpassed anything Kagami could ever attain. In fact: Marinette had more experience at being a person than Kagami could ever achieve, unless Marinette died first, a thought that filled Kagami with no uncertain amount of distress.

And maybe Kagami was better at fencing and ice skating, and she knew more languages. But that made her a superior fencer and ice skater, not — not just ‘superior’, without qualifier.

Marinette knew how to bake. She knew how to be a superhero. She knew how to manoeuvre other people’s emotions, even though she struggled to manoeuvre her own. She was curious and clever and quite pretty. She was accomplished at sewing and fashion. She was deeply impressive, in many ways. And Kagami was starting to understand how Émilie had fallen for Marinette in the first place.

Mother was still demanding an answer, however. And though her question was bad, Kagami knew that there was a correct answer to give.

“No,” said Kagami. “She’s superior to me in most appreciable ways.”

There was no response from Mother, at first. She just sat in silence, spinning the signet ring around her finger like it was more important than listening.

“Have you met these other girls?” she said eventually. “Gabriel and Émilie’s daughter, Colt and Amélie’s daughter?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“What are they —”

“They are exactly the same as us, other than their hair colour.” Something was wrong about that statement, but Kagami couldn’t place it, so she ploughed on after a moment’s hesitation. “They are accomplished, though less impressive than Marinette.”

Mother nodded in reply, and gave the ring one final twist. Then she clutched her entire hand around it.

“Kagami,” she said.

“Yes?” said Kagami, in keeping with Mother’s rules for etiquette. She wanted to know she was being listened to, so she stopped in places to ensure that was the case.

“You must become better than Marinette,” said Mother. “You must outperform her in every endeavour. Do you understand me?”

Kagami wanted to protest.

And then she no longer wanted to protest.

“Yes, Mother,” she nodded, and her life had only one aim from here on.

… – – – … | … – – – …

It happened in the lunch room. Actually, it happened before that, but that was the point at which it became known to anybody else, when Felicia slumped down on the bench and threw her arm over the table, her sigh mostly drowned out by the chatter of everyone around them.

Marinette wasn’t there. Only Adrienne, and of course Kagami, but Marinette had a cold that day.

And it happened when Felicia sat down, looked three tables across, and sighed softly.

“What’s wrong?” asked Adrienne, dipping a baby carrot in yoghurt.

“I’m in love,” said Felicia. Like that was a thing to just blurt out randomly, in the presence of people who — hopefully — were not involved in it.

“You’re in love?” said Adrienne, leaning slightly forward, eyes twinkling bright. “That’s wonderful! Who’s the lucky boy?”

Felicia’s frown was immediate and severe. “Boy? Who said anything about a boy?”

“You… said you were in love?” said Adrienne, who — yes. Of course. This was the same girl who thought storks delivered human babies up until a few weeks ago.

“Yes? So I’m in love with a girl,” said Felicia, rolling her eyes.

“You can do that?” said Adrienne.

“Yeah, ‘course I can.”

Kagami cleared her throat. The cousins stopped blabbering and turned towards her. “Who’s the girl?” she said, not too loudly. She hoped the answer wasn’t —

“Alya,” said Felicia, shrugging a second after she’d said it. “She’s cute. And hot. And, y'know, nice.”

“Oh,” said Adrienne. Kagami, for her part, nodded in silent approval. Alya wasn’t her type, as such, but at least she was a good choice for someone to be interested in.

Felicia looked over at Alya’s table again. She was seated between Alix, Juleka, and Rose, and Mylène was just sitting down directly opposite Alya with a tray of food. Alya seemed to be in an animated conversation with everyone, though her eyes suddenly drifted across to the Marinettoid table and she shot into a smile and a wave. At which point Felicia turned away with a fierce blush on her cheeks.

Adrienne nudged her in the side with an elbow. “Hey, if it’s true girls can be with each other, as you said, then... yes?” she said, noticing Kagami’s hand signal. Kagami pointed towards Alya’s table, and as Adrienne turned towards it, Juleka and Rose leaned in for a kiss on the mouth.

“… Oh, I see,” said Adrienne, also blushing slightly as she looked back towards her own table. “Yeah, that’s… pretty conclusive, I guess… anyway, um, Felicia. I think you’d be cute together. Why don’t you talk to her about it?”

“I can’t talk to her,” mumbled Felicia. “I’ll only screw it up.”

“No you won’t,” said Adrienne. “You’re already friends, right? And you’re pretty cool.”

“No.”

“So… you’re just going to do nothing?”

Felicia shook her head, still not done blushing, even though the colour had faded to a mild pink. “No,” she said in a low murmur. “I’m going to… follow her around. Unseen, I mean, so I can get to know her better. Then I’m going to kidnap her. Take her atop the Eiffel tower, alone, and then I can tell her. I just need a Miraculous… can I borrow yours, Adrienne?”

“You want to kidnap her instead of being upfront?” said Kagami, flabbergasted.

“No. I want to kidnap her so that I can be upfront.”

Kagami leaned back and folded her arms. “You are utterly incompetent at social relations. You can’t take someone away against their will.”

Something flickered in Felicia’s eyes, then. Her mouth fell open for a moment, before she took back control. “… Right. Yes. Free will. Self-determination…” In other words, the things they were all seeking — or had all sought.

“Yes. So just go talk to her,” said Kagami. “Like a normal person. Or bake her something nice and say it’s a gift.”

“I — yes. Yes, you’re right… I should make her a croquembouche!”

“Er,” said Adrienne, clearing her throat. “You don’t need to go that far. Just make a small pie or something…”

Perhaps that would be enough. Perhaps it wouldn’t. If romance were as simple as ‘do X, get Y’, then it would be a lot less terrifying. Romances had a lot more don’ts than dos, and a kidnapping was pretty high up on the list of don’ts — then again, maybe someone could fall for it, under the right circumstances, but most people weren’t that someone.

Then again, Alya was sufficiently into Ladybug that she might be turned on in that scenario… though that didn’t mean it would be smart or good to do it.

Annoyingly, as she thought about it, Kagami also found herself ever so slightly charmed by the idea of being abducted to the top of the Eiffel tower. Not by Ladybug, though. It would have to be —

Ugh. She didn’t even know what she wanted in the first place. She probably wanted something, but it really wasn’t so simple that she could quantify it into any person present at school.

“I’ll ask Marinette for a good pie recipe after school,” said Felicia. Unlike earlier, her voice was energised, dripping with intent, and it made Kagami feel ever so slightly like a useless coward.

“Good,” said Adrienne. “Go for it!”

“I’ll come with you,” said Kagami. “I, I’ll accompany you.”

Felicia frowned. “How come? Are you also going to bake a pie?”

No. Not at all. “Yes. But also, because she’s sick, I want to check up on her.”

“Oh.”

And so their plans for the afternoon were laid, and they all finished their lunch in unison.

… – – – … | … – – – …

Sabine and Tom were pretty used to seeing them by now. Not that they were fully ready for it — even now, knowing that their daughter was sick upstairs and seeing Kagami accompanied by Felicia step into the bakery, there was a moment where Sabine and Tom’s eyes went wide in shock.

Then they relaxed, realisation clear in their smiles. “Hello there, uh… Kagami and Adrienne?” said Tom.

“No, that’s Felicia,” said Sabine. “See the bangs?”

“I’m Felicia, yes,” said Felicia, bowing. “Excuse me for intruding on the abode of greatness.”

Kagami sighed. “She means baking.”

“The greatest art known to humanity,” said Felicia as she stood up straight again.

Tom scratched his neck. “Aw, that’s very kind of you…”

“What are you after today, girls?” said Sabine, glancing at the stands. “We have all kinds of pastries —”

“Marinette,” said Kagami. “Just Marinette.” She was probably a little abrupt in answering; Sabine stared at her in bemusement.

“I wanted to ask her for some tips,” said Felicia, giving another bow. This time it was only halfway, though, and it ended straight away. “Related to baking.”

“Oh, well, she’s out with a cold today…” said Sabine. “You probably don’t want to get infected by her.”

Felicia shook her head. “My mission is more important. I don’t mind being infected so long as I achieve it.”

“Would you allow us to go upstairs?” said Kagami.

The two bakers looked at each other, then back to Felicia and Kagami. “Well, you can go upstairs. If she tells you no, though, you’ll have to come back another day.”

“That’s fine. Thank you,” said Kagami.

They slipped through the back part of the bakery, carefully avoiding the flour-covered countertops and cooling plates of pastries, and walked up through the stairwell. Marinette was upstairs, alone — just like she had been back when she lit the kitchen on fire. Both her parents working downstairs, not paying attention to their daughter standing alone in the kitchen.

Admittedly, this Marinette was thirteen and hated fire, so the chance of a repeat was minimal unless something terrible had happened.

They were both quiet as they climbed, too. There was a certain reverence to the walk, even though this was just a routine after-school home visit. A procession to the sacred turf of — for Felicia, the Dupain-Cheng kitchen, where Marinette had first made the macarons that were the literal reason why Felicia, Adrienne, and Kagami even existed in the first place. Or at least, the reason they were who they were.

To Kagami it was different. She wanted to see the details that Marinette had described about the kitchen fire, but also the details of Marinette herself. To have another chance to experience what made them different from each other, and how to improve so that she could be better than her. That was her… purpose.

Kagami made to knock on the door. But Felicia just walked past her and pushed the door open, following it into the living room beyond.

“Hello? Mum?” said Marinette’s voice. It was clearly congested.

“No,” said Kagami, closing the door. At the same time, Felicia rounded the corner to the kitchen, and there was a loud yelp that could only have come from Marinette.

“F-Felicia!” she said, and then there was a gulp of air. “I didn’t know you’d — Kagami!” Marinette yelped again, as Kagami went to stand right next to Felicia. “What are you doing here?”

Marinette seemed about normal in most ways. She had her hair done up in careful pigtails, and her terrified expression was very much on-brand. However, her eyes were slightly glassy and she didn’t seem to have put on makeup; she was, in other words, inferior.

The thought of that was comforting and queasy at the same time.

“We’re here for advice,” said Felicia, bowing yet again. When she unbowed, she focused on the countertop and the cooking oven. “Do I smell… meringue?”

“Ah, um… yes,” said Marinette, and she was definitely blushing as she dropped her gaze to the glowing glass window. “I’m making macarons… first time since, um, since Lielie… I wanted to… um. Please don’t look.”

Kagami had no intention of looking, and hoped that was the case independently of Marinette’s request. But Felicia, for her part, fell together slightly. “Aw, why not? I want to see the master at work.”

“I’m not a master!” said Marinette, taking a step back with her hands raised. As she did so, a yellow-black mark on the floor appeared in the space her foot moved away from. Perhaps that was where the burning whisk landed, in that story where Marinette hadn’t told the whole truth. “It’s just a small thing! Or a lot of small things! Completely insignificant!”

“You are a master compared to me,” said Felicia. “Why can’t we see?”

“Because… ugh…” said Marinette, almost completely collapsing on her feet. “I’m just… um… can you keep a secret?”

Felicia nodded eagerly; Kagami said “Yes.”

“Can you keep a secret from yourselves?”

Felicia said “Yes!”; Kagami said “No. Of course not.”

“Fuck,” said Marinette. One of her arms hung limp; she used her other hand to grab the elbow of that first arm. “Um… well, here goes, anyway. Please don’t tell the others. I decided, um… since Lielie liked my macarons so much, and they’re the reason why you’re all here… and, and, ‘cos you all came and, like… you made me feel better, you and Aunty Amélie, and now I have friends and, and that’s all because of you, um, I… I wanted to bake you all macarons as thanks, so I was going to invite you this weekend for a tea party. If, ifif, um, if that’s okay.”

Three thoughts battled to be at the forefront of Kagami’s mind then. The first was maybe less a thought and more a sense of anticipation, because even though the history between Marinette and Émilie hadn't mattered much to Kagami in the past it didn't not matter; the second thought was a warm sense of gratitude and appreciation. Because nobody had ever baked anything for Kagami before, or invited her to a celebration.

But the strongest thought, fending off both of the others at once, was: ‘I’m superior at expressing myself clearly and concisely.’

“Magnanimous,” said Felicia. “Thank you, Marinette. Me and Mum will both attend.”

“It’s, um, maybe Saturday evening?” said Marinette.

“For tea? Nonsense,” said Felicia. “It has to be in the afternoon.”

“Oh, um. That’s fine too,” said Marinette. Her face twisted slightly, and she turned around and grabbed some tissue paper from the countertop, which she then proceeded to cough loudly into. Once, twice, three times, before blowing her nose.

Kagami hadn’t had a cold in five years. When she did, it barely made her cough at all. So she was also superior to Marinette in health; that thought came as both a joy and a sting.

“Teach me to make macarons,” said Kagami, in the quiet after Marinette stopped sniffling.

Marinette hesitated for a moment. “W-what?”

“Teach me to make macarons,” Kagami repeated, adding ‘better listener’ to her list of superior qualities.

“Oh! Um, sure,” said Marinette. “When?”

“As quickly as possible. I need to get better at making them than you.”

Something tiny shifted inside Marinette’s eyes. But Kagami couldn’t see what it was, and she couldn’t tell what it turned into; she only knew that a change had happened. Slowly, as though she was gauging for reactions, Marinette said “Okay… sure, I’ll help. I’m not very good to start with, though… you should ask Dad if you really want to get good at it?”

“No. I only need to surpass you, not him,” said Kagami.

“Er, Kagami,” said Felicia. Kagami turned to look at her one-eyebrow-hoisted face. “What’s going on? Why are you antagonising her?”

“I’m not antagonising her,” said Kagami, looking back at Marinette. “She’s fine with it.”

“You’re being pretty rude, is what you are,” said Felicia. “Why do you need to compete with her? She’s, like… she’s like our mother. That means she deserves respect.”

“Mothers don’t deserve respect,” said Kagami, shrugging.

Felicia’s expression went from displeasure to thunderstorm. “That’s codswallop. Mum’s amazing, and s—”

At that point, Marinette cleared her throat. Even though the act lacked force or conviction, it was noteworthy enough that both of them turned towards her.

“Guys,” she said. “It’s fine. Don’t fight. I’ll help you make macarons, Kagami, and Aunty Amélie is great so please don’t insult her but I get that you’re upset with your own mum, so um. Yeah. And I don’t mind if you make them better than me…”

“Well… okay,” said Felicia, perhaps not happy but at least a tiny bit mollified.

Kagami was about to nod, but then she caught herself. This was just another sign of difference between them, wasn’t it? There were few things in the world that Kagami hated more than the idea of someone stepping over her, and yet here was Marinette, her point of origin, practically begging to be stomped on. Unless Marinette was just pretending to be okay with it, but even so…

Another thought niggled behind that one. That Marinette had just proven herself to be the superior listener and mediator. And Kagami couldn’t let that slide by.

“Thank you, Marinette,” said Kagami and bowed. “You are a kind teacher, and most generous.”

For some reason, Marinette’s response was a whining sound. When Kagami looked up, Marinette looked horrified. “I’m not! I’m really not! Please stop bowing to me already, I’m just a normal girl!”

It was only now that Kagami noticed a particular detail. Marinette wasn’t wearing the same clothes as them. She was probably just in her pajamas, sure, and with an apron on top, but that was still a different outfit from all the rest of them. Did that mean…  they weren’t bound to her clothes? Or were they bound to what she planned to wear, but she could do whatever she wanted after planning? Or…

“You are also an excellent baker,” said Felicia. “Which brings me to the reason why I’m here. I wonder if you have any good recipes for a pie, suitable for my skill level?”

There. A request for help, and Marinette went straight back to a focused and not-frightened posture. “A beginner pie? Um… what flavour?”

“Any flavour. Any filling. I want to bake a gift for someone, and I thought I’d ask you for some tips.”

Marinette nodded. “Okay… I think I can help with that. A gift? Is it for Aunty?”

“No,” said Felicia; “It’s for her crush,” said Kagami.

“Oh!” said Marinette, her eyes brightening. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

“It’s — wait, how did you know it’s a girl?” said Felicia. She frowned. “Did Adrienne call you or something?”

“Um…” Marinette was obviously blushing now, looking down at the floor. “I mean… I just guessed. You strike me as the type who would be into… girl… gay… homo… les, lesbian… things. Um, yeah! You look the type! That’s why and nothing else, haha.”

If Marinette ever were to speak a lie less convincing than this one, then she ought to get a medal for the audacity of trying. But the surprise that had flashed in her face for the first moment after Felicia mentioned her crush, that had been genuine — so the lie wouldn’t be that she already knew, the lie was in how she guessed.

Felicia’s deep frown faded somewhat; her shoulders sank a little, too. “Well… okay, it’s a fair cop, I guess. It’s Alya. From school, I mean.”

“Alya!” exclaimed Marinette. “Yeah, she’s amazing… I get why you’re crushing on her,” said Marinette. “She’ll definitely appreciate a pie, her mum’s the chef at Le Grand Paris, so she’s used to great food. Um, let’s see…” Marinette turned to the cookbook shelf behind her and pulled out not a cookbook, but instead a binder that seemed to be filled to bursting. She slammed it down on the desk and started to flip through it.

“She likes blueberries, so you could try a blueberry pie? Using the flaky dough recipe I taught you last week, maybe? It’s going to take a bit of time but you could definitely handle it, and you could call me if you need help with anything…” After some searching, she found a torn-out page of lined paper, handwritten with extremely detailed instructions, and with the underlined heading: ‘MARINETTE’S BLUEBERRY PIE’.

“Wow,” said Felicia, stepping closer to read the minuscule writing. “That sounds pretty good, but… could you write the recipe bigger so I can actually read it?”

“Oh!” said Marinette. “Uh… sure, I can try…”

Felicia shrugged. “Put it in a doc or something and send it in the group chat. Okay?”

“Y, yeah!” said Marinette, swallowing. “I’ll do that. But, um — I have to watch over the macarons right now, so it’ll have to wait until I’m done, I hope that’s okay…”

“Yeah, of course,” said Felicia. “I don’t need it tonight. Tomorrow would be nice, though.”

“I can manage that, I think,” said Marinette and smiled. “Thank you.”

The lie still felt like a flashing orange lamp, though. Kagami tried to see if there was anything lurking in Marinette’s eyes, and — then it struck her. It wasn’t even anything she needed to dig to uncover. Marinette just described Alya’s home situation and her preference for pie fillings, and she had a specific and personalised recipe for it as well.

Which meant that Marinette also had a crush on Alya.

Was this also a necessary part of being copied from Marinette? That they would all have a romantic interest in the same people? Were they all being steered towards liking Alya as more than a friend? Kagami hadn’t developed any such feelings for Alya; did this mean she was going to do so eventually? And what about —

She was pulled out of her thoughts by the beeping sound of an alarm. Marinette bent down to look into the oven, after the requisite yelp and jump. Next she said, “Sorry, sorry, this batch is done… give me a moment…”

Kagami stood in place to watch, folding her arms as Marinette lifted the tray out of the oven and placed it atop the stove. She observed Marinette’s movements, her slightly wobbly hands covered in singe-marked oven mitts, the way she stuck her tongue out as she concentrated, the way she kicked the oven door shut with her toes while carrying. The way she made the methodical look spontaneous and careless. The way she smiled to herself when she looked at the finished product, even though the macarons themselves looked uneven and haphazard. All of those were behaviours that Kagami needed to either copy and improve on, or refute and do better than.

They were also annoyingly charming. The details of someone who lived in her own way, without needing to worry that she was just copying someone else — but nonetheless, a life that Kagami admired more than envied.

And one that she would, unfortunately, have to crush like a grape.

“Okay,” said Marinette. “I think these are okay…” She glanced at Kagami as she said that, with a look in her eyes that suggested she wanted to say something, without suggesting the something she wanted to say. “Um… Kagami? When you said you want to learn macarons as soon as possible… um…”

Kagami raised an eyebrow. The tone of Marinette’s voice very nearly suggested she was afraid to speak. “Yes?”

“Did you mean right now? B-because we could make another batch, together…”

Kagami let her eyebrow fall again. Then she nodded. “I accept.”

… – – – … | … – – – …

The last time she saw her father, he was in hospital. It was unrelated to the thing that killed him, as is sometimes the case with car crashes, but she noticed even then that he seemed unusually gaunt for someone who supposedly only had a broken leg and some bruising.

Before she went to see him that day, she really did want to go. Perhaps that was just propriety, the feeling that it was expected that a daughter would visit her hospitalised parent. Or perhaps she still had hopes of building a relationship with him, because of her own expectations of what a parent should be. In the aftermath, however, she had never been able to decide whether she was happy she’d come or not.

His eyes had been distant, evasive. His voice had been the former, too, and his answers to her questions were the latter. They were in the same room now by Mother’s decree and not by his own.

“Are you comfortable here, Father?” she asked, after a nurse had finished propping up his pillow. His leg cast was suspended from a pulley above the bed.

He needed no time to think of an answer. “I’ll have to be, now,” he said, staring up at the ceiling. “I must get used to it.”

Later she asked him, “Do you think we could visit the aquarium next time?”

His laughter had been horrible, wheezy, and very brief. “Next time… pah! What next time?”

She could see it now, though she didn’t then, that he resented her. Because of the brooch he used to create her, his life had been cut short — first by disease and then, at thirty-five, by death. And he must have found out about it by then, because it was the first time he had ever been curt with her. Sure, he hadn’t always been forthcoming during their meetings, but he had at least not seemed angry to be there.

The next time they were scheduled to be together, he cancelled on the same day, leaving Kagami alone at a train station for an hour until he informed Mother about his decision. The remaining five times he cancelled early. Perhaps he was too sick by then. Perhaps he just didn’t care.

Visiting him that day at the hospital was, if nothing else, proof that he would never actually be her father. And not visiting him would only have meant spending more time with Mother. She just didn’t know if the one bad outweighed the other bad.

Amélie had been the first good parent Kagami had met. Tom and Sabine were second. But all three of them cared far more about Marinette than about her. There were no parents to care for Kagami, because the ones who were supposed to had decided to care more about other things.

Adrienne was also, technically, without parents. But she had an aunt, and also her dad’s secretary Nathalie. Kagami had… a car to drive her around, and a mother who would give her commands but never affection.

Maybe Marinette was a mother to the three of them — and to Zoé Lee, and whoever else had been created in her image. But Kagami didn’t want a mother, or a father. The concept of parentage could burn for all she cared, and she would set fire to it herself as soon as she was able. She wanted… love. Attention. Care. Someone to listen. Someone who would light the fire on her behalf if she could not.

She wanted —

… – – – … | … – – – …

“— why do you want me to kiss you?”

“Because we deserve it. Because we’re worth it.”

… – – – … | … – – – …

“So what you do is, you beat the whites until they go stiff. Like so… if you hold the bowl upside down, it should all stick.”

Marinette demonstrated by turning her bowl upside down. The egg mixture didn’t move even an inch; not a droplet splashed down on the countertop. Then she spun it back around the right way and put it down with a smile.

Kagami tried to do the same thing. However, before she could even properly lift the bowl up, Marinette grabbed her wrist tight with one hand and steadied the bowl with another.

“Yours aren’t done yet,” she said, with annoying kindness.

“How can you tell?” said Kagami, who couldn’t.

“Experience. I’m sorry,” said Marinette, with a sad little smile. “That’s not very helpful, but… try running the whisk a little longer. You’ll see. It's going to look kind of like a landscape, like you could walk on it. And when you pull the whisk out it gets these — here, look,” she continued, reaching over for her own. “See these horns at the end? From when I pulled it out? They don’t bend or anything, they just stand straight out like that.”

Kagami nodded. There were still many things she had left to learn about baking, apparently. Even so, she would learn them so she could leave Marinette in the dust. “Thank you, sensei,” she said, to increase her own politeness score compared to Marinette’s. “I’ll remember this, so I can defeat you.”

“Yes,” said Marinette, going back to her own bowl without showing her full face to Kagami. But her lips did taper downwards at the corners. Kagami shrugged and went back to beating eggs.

It was when she had just started the whisk again that Marinette spoke again. “Hey… Kagami?” she said, almost drowned out by the little motor.

“Yes?” said Kagami, more loudly to prove her superiority in voice control.

“I… um, can you turn that thing off?”

If she did, would that be showing superiority in listening, or would it be more superior to — Kagami caught herself. Answering questions was not a competition, unless they were both answering someone else. She flipped the switch and put the whisk down, carefully, keeping the sticky part above the bowl so nothing could drip out. Then she turned towards Marinette again and nodded.

“So, um…” started Marinette. She glanced towards Kagami, but couldn’t keep eye contact; her hand lay heavy on the base of her neck. “So earlier… you said… you said you need to… beat me, or whatever, at making macarons, right?”

“Yes,” said Kagami. “I have to become superior to you.”

“R-really?” said Marinette. “Um… okay, but… aren’t you already superior?”

Kagami shook her head. She kept the rest of her body still and straight. “Of course not. You’re a better baker than me.”

“B-bu-but you fence! You’re like a world champion! And you draw super good,” said Marinette, this time keeping eye contact for almost a second before dropping her eyes to the floor again. “And you’re smart and you have good manners and, and you’re cool and, and brave and stuff. Okay?”

“I need to be superior in every endeavour,” said Kagami, words that weren’t really her own. “As long as you bake better than me, I’m not fully superior. As long as you can design clothes and I can’t, I’m lesser than you. As long as you’re as kind and forgiving as you are, you are —”

“Stop!” snapped Marinette. “Shut the fuck up!”

All of a sudden there was anger in Marinette’s eyes, and enough of it to completely tie Kagami’s tongue. There was also a fierce red on Marinette’s cheeks; the entire reaction must have been building under the surface, but it was now fully on the outside and the change had come out of nowhere.

“Stop putting yourself down! Fuck! You’re a thousand times better than me in every way and you’re trying to tell me you’re shit? Where’s all this from? I mean, I guess thank you for the compliment and I don’t care one iota of an ant’s piss if you want to be better than me, but don’t you dare —”

Marinette stopped. The turning cogs in her head were practically visible through her shining sclera. Her mouth lolled half open.

“… You… is this your mum’s fault? Did she… command you?”

Right. Of course. Marinette was, once again, proving herself to be the better listener. She was listening to things that hadn’t even been said, or she was at least clever enough to put pieces together despite the pieces being basically invisible, and Kagami could only nod in response.

“Your mum told you to… be better than me at everything?” Marinette’s voice was barely a whisper. “Is that… is that what happened?”

“Yes,” said Kagami, feeling a slight superiority over the fact that Marinette needed it confirmed by an authoritative source — this was an area of knowledge where Kagami had the upper hand. “I’m meant to surpass you, and until I do, I’m a failure —”

“Okay. Kagami.” Marinette held up a hand, breathed in deeply through her nose. Her voice was suddenly firm again. “Shut up. Bloody hell. You’re not a failure and you never have been. Was she commanding you, like with Felicia’s ring?”

Kagami had been told to shut up, so she nodded again to confirm.

“Right. Of course she did. Of fucking bloody course. Shit,” said Marinette, throwing up her hands. “Kagami, why do you even live with her? How the hell can she even say that? You’re meant to be free and live your own life, not… not… ugh! Piss! Fuck! Fuck!”

“… Marinette?” said Kagami, stepping forward — but Marinette had already put her hands over her head and started to curl up.

“This isn’t right! Your mum’s given you a command you can’t refuse and if I tell you to ignore the command, I’ll be just like her! I shouldn’t be controlling you either! You, Felicia, Adrienne, you’re meant to just go about your days and you’re just here asking to be even more like me except even more and what the christ am I supposed to do? Tell you to stop? Fuck!”

This was quickly taking a turn that Kagami hadn’t expected, after already taking several previous unexpected turns. Kagami knew she had to be superior to Marinette, that was of prime importance, but — that wasn’t the thought in her head as she saw Marinette flinch herself into a ball. Her thought was more akin to… concern.

Because she couldn’t really enjoy her victory if she only achieved it through Marinette getting worse. Yes, that was it.

No. No, it wasn’t. It really, really, really wasn’t.

“That’s… not how the commands work,” said Kagami.

She was reasonably certain of that now. Otherwise Felicia wouldn’t have been able to complain about being told to not set the kitchen on fire. In fact — otherwise, Kagami would have stopped being interested in fire by now, because Marinette had told her repeatedly to please stop.

No, she actually had an older command that stopped her instead — a memory from when she was maybe seven years old, which she had forgotten until now — the command Mother gave her in the kitchen, clasping her signet ring so hard that her knuckles turned bone white.

‘You are not to ever create fire. Not with matches, not with a flint, not with a lighter. No fire. Understand?’ And even though it didn’t limit Kagami’s capacity to discuss or enjoy fire, it severely limited her capacity to start fires on her own. Even if she did get a box of matches, she would be unable to light it.

Mother’s voice was so horribly stern on those occasions. She wasn’t asking for understanding, she was demanding compliance. She towered tall in a posture that might be used for holding a sword, underlining her authoritative tone with the authority of force. Or at least the implied authority of force.

And Marinette… she could never do that. She had the capacity to speak with authority, but she didn’t do it to get her way. Even if she had the ability to truly command Kagami the way Mother could, it was pretty apparent that she wouldn’t. And even if she did, she was not a demanding person.

“… What?” said Marinette, one eye peeking up at Kagami through the cage of her arms.

“When you tell us to do things, it doesn’t force us to do them,” said Kagami. She put her hand, albeit slowly, onto Marinette’s shoulder — that was how reassurance worked, right? “If we listen to you, it’s because we know you know more than us, or we think that what you say makes sense.”

“But I — you said, you said you have to copy me. Right?”

Kagami shook her head. “If I wanted to, I could probably cut my hair tomorrow. And I probably wouldn’t regret it. You could tell me to do something stupid, and I wouldn’t do it.” Probably. This was a less tested area.

Marinette was silent for a moment, then. And then she said, “Pick up a breadknife and gouge your eye out.”

Kagami blinked. “Why would I do that?” she said — and then she realised. “Oh. I see.”

“So — so you’re not forced to do what I say?”

“Evidently not,” said Kagami.

“That’s wonderful!” said Marinette. She shot to her feet like a spring-loaded clown and wrapped her arms around Kagami. “Oh, fuck, I’m so happy… I was worried I’d have to stop being friends with you guys…”

Stop… being friends? “Why?”

“Because if, if I ended up controlling you I couldn’t live with myself. Um, no pun intended…” Marinette pulled back from the hug, and left her hands on Kagami’s shoulders. She had a trembling smile and glassy eyes. “I just really, really, really don’t want to make you be anything you don’t want to be. You can be a baker if you want, but only if you want to. Not because your mum tells you you have to. You’re great the way you are, okay? I’m really happy, um, that you’re my friend.”

Kagami stared into Marinette’s eyes — and felt something shatter inside. Not a part of her, but a part that wasn’t ever hers to begin with. Looking at Marinette now, Kagami knew it was impossible to ever beat her in kindness, or selflessness, or uniqueness. There was no point in ever trying to be superior to her except in highly specific areas. And for all that she didn’t really mind baking, she knew she would never want to be a baker. Mother’s command lay shattered to pieces on the floor of her mind, and she stomped on it a few times to finish the job.

“I’m happy to have you as a friend, too,” said Kagami. Even though ‘friend’ felt insufficient at this point.

“That’s good. That’s… shit. That’s good, I’m sorry,” said Marinette, wiping away a tear that had started tumbling down her cheek. “So, er, I… I wanna know, um. Can I ask you two questions? You don’t have to answer.”

“Of course,” said Kagami, though she felt a little concerned that the questions were being framed with ‘you don’t have to answer’. That rarely suggested good things.

“Okay, so…” Marinette sighed. “If you don’t mind… could I cut your hair? I have an idea for a haircut I think you’d look great in, and I have scissors, and Mum always used to cut my hair when I was younger but I could cut your hair different from what I want because it’s up to you and I don’t wanna impose or anything and —”

Kagami held up her palm to still Marinette and smiled. “You can cut my hair however you want,” she said, and she knew it was her choice to say that.

“Oh! Okay, great! And now, um, question number two… um…”

“Yes?”

Marinette looked straight into Kagami’s eyes, fiercer and more determined than Kagami had ever seen her. “Do you mind if I kidnap you and go steal your mum’s ring?”

Kagami’s smile broke into a grin in return. “No. Not at all.”

… – – – … | … – – – …

Love wasn’t really something Kagami was given to think about a lot. She hadn’t experienced a lot of it, so it was seldom on her mind.

Still, she couldn’t deny that it had been on her mind more than usual as of late. It could be Felicia’s fault, for putting the thought out there with that whole Alya business. Or maybe it was somebody else’s fault, maybe even her own.

If she were to guess, though, it had to be Marinette’s fault. Because the idea of love generally came coupled with the idea of Marinette whenever she thought about it.

“This feels weird,” said Kagami, touching the back of her now almost-exposed neck. She’d lost a fair amount of hair to Marinette’s scissors, but what she had left was positioned strangely across her skull.

“Well, um, new haircuts often feel like that,” said Marinette. “Especially when you’ve had the old one for a while, but um, if you don’t like it I could let Mum have a go because she’s better at it than me, or maybe you wanna do it yourself or something or… I don’t know.” She sigh-groaned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your hair.”

“You ruined my hair?” said Kagami, raising an eyebrow.

Marinette breathed in through her teeth. “Well… I think it looks nice, but if you think it feels weird —”

“Just show me what it looks like,” said Kagami.

A mirror was pushed into her hand. She held it up to her face and gazed into it, and tried to ignore Marinette’s worried grimace in the corner.

Which was hard in one way, but not very hard in another. Because it was a decent haircut, perhaps a little unsteady, but there were no obvious flaws to it. Rather than any of her hair being tied up, the part that used to be in pigtails was now cut off; she retained her bangs, though the bangs looked a little lighter, and the strands down in front of her hair a little shorter. It was a way more mature look, so short at the back. The air tickled her exposed skin as she tried to get a look at her neck; it was an unusual, but not an unwelcome, tickling.

More importantly, though, she didn’t look like Marinette. Not in so many words. You could definitely still tell they were similar, but now they seemed more like twins than straight-up copies.

That was maybe the problem, really. They were too similar before, despite the different tones to their hair, despite their different expressions, to recognise what was truly there: two separate people. Two unique individuals. Two persons, each of whom deserved…

… love.

It was with that in mind, and with Marinette’s concerned expression hovering over her shoulder, that Kagami finally made the connection in her mind. Yes, Kagami was in love, and she might have been so for a while. But the strangeness of looking at Marinette and seeing a mirrored version of herself — of a girl she could never imagine being attracted to — had occluded it from her.

Because the lovely part of Marinette was never her appearance. It was her personality, and the effort she put into everything she did. Her willingness to bend over until her head touched the ground in order to help others. The way she brightened when you told her nice things, and the way she darkened when you said mean things about yourself and then told you to go fuck yourself for being so mean.

Marinette, for all her foibles and insecurities, was the person in the world who made Kagami feel the most welcome. She was the person who smiled the widest when Kagami walked into the room, while everyone else either didn’t care, or were too occupied with figuring out whether or not she was Marinette to say hello. Marinette was the first person who had offered to help with Mother, in any capacity. That, too, was love.

Yes. Marinette was a person Kagami wanted to spend as much time as possible with. It didn’t matter that they looked baseline similar, or that Kagami had been created in a Marinette-shaped mould; clearly, the mould didn’t shape all they were. And equally clearly, if they were aware of it, they could also break the mould a little bit. Kagami could say she wanted a haircut, and then that haircut would be only hers.

Maybe she could even dress differently. Black dress pants and a black waistcoat and tie atop a grey shirt, perhaps… although Felicia would probably look better in that getup than her. But now that she knew what was happening with the clothes, she should be able to counter it.

“I like it,” she said. “I think it looks good.”

“R-really?” said Marinette, perhaps being an inch too considerate.

“Yes,” said Kagami, and spun her chair around so she came face to face with Marinette. “I mean it. Thank you so much.”

“O-okay!” said Marinette, brightening. “Oh, I’m so happy to hear that, I was really worried but I think you look really pretty like this. Yeah?”

Kagami kicked her legs out as soon as she fully registered the word ‘pretty’. She stared Marinette up and down, and made her decision like a snap of her fingers.

“Kiss me,” she said.

“W-what?” said Marinette, jolting.

“I believe I was quite clear what’s on my mind,” said Kagami.

Marinette’s face was an explosion of red, and her eyes were a gorgeous kaleidoscope. “Yes, but — why do you want me to kiss you?”

“Because we deserve it. Because we’re worth it.”

“No, I mean… why do you want me to kiss you? Aren’t we, like… basically twins?”

Kagami shook her head. “We just look the same. Many people look similar to one another.”

Perhaps Marinette’s frown was justified. “You were literally made to be like me.”

“But I’m not like you. I’m similar, but I’m not the same. I like fire and you don’t. I like fencing and you don’t. You like baking, and I’m at best ambivalent towards it. I do figure skating, and if you even tried to do that you’d fall over and break your nose.” Marinette winced, but Kagami kept going. “We have different personalities, and we have different parents. And on top of that, I look different from you now. It doesn’t matter how I was made. What matters is what I choose to be, and I choose to be someone other than you. Someone who loves you.”

“Lo… loves me?” said Marinette, voice incredibly thin. “You l-l-love me?”

Kagami shrugged. “I think I do. And that’s all I need. So kiss me already.”

“Uh, uh, um…” said Marinette. Her eyes were currently everywhere except on Kagami, or perhaps more accurately anywhere Kagami wasn’t. “I just… can I get a moment to think about it?”

“I’d rather not wait,” said Kagami, honestly enough. Not least because she needed to know straight away if Alya was a competitor.

“Well, um, I just don’t know if… if I…”

… – – – … | … – – – …

“There’s something you didn’t tell me about the fire,” said Kagami. She had her arms folded, because sternness seemed to work on Marinette most of the time. “I think you ought to tell me about it.”

Marinette squirmed like Kagami had never seen her squirm before. It was like she was part hagfish, trying to squeeze herself into a ball so she could bite a chunk off some carcass, except without any of those extra details.

“Well… um… it’s not that important,” said Marinette, with a voice that either gave away that she knew she was lying, or revealed that she had an undue trust in her own judgement of importance. “I… you know the wooden whisk?”

“Yes,” said Kagami. “It caught fire.”

“Right,” said Marinette. “So… yeah. When it fell down, I was kinda… right below it, just staring. So it hit me and my clothes caught fire.”

“You were also on fire?” blurted out Kagami, out of surprise more than worry but with both in generous amounts. “Were you okay?”

Marinette swallowed loudly. “I, um… I kinda have a burn scar down my whole right thigh and hip, and a little bit up on my belly. It looks pretty nasty, but… it doesn’t hurt anymore, so it’s all okay as long as I don’t undress in front of people…”

So that was why Marinette had insisted on showering alone, and getting dressed first, after fencing. And that was also why Marinette, and by extension nobody else made in her image, ever wore anything shorter than below-the-knee stuff. Or better yet, long socks or non-transparent tights.

Except…

“I don’t have a burn mark,” said Kagami.

“Y-you don’t?”

“You got this burn mark when you were two?”

Marinette nodded once in silence.

“Did your Aunty Lielie know about it?”

“Y-yes, but I don’t think she ever saw it… Mum told her about it when she asked about the burn mark on the floor,” here Marinette nodded towards the mark in question, “but I think that’s it…”

So Émilie hadn’t copied Marinette all the way. Was it because the burn marks upset her? Or did she want to hide something that Marinette might have been embarrassed about? Did she want her own daughter to be just a little bit more perfect than the girl she was otherwise replicating, or would a burn scar have required an explanation that Émilie didn’t want to give either to Adrienne or to anyone else?

“So… does the burn mark bother you?”

Marinette breathed out deep. “I’d rather not talk about it. If, um… if that’s okay.”

“That’s okay,” echoed Kagami. “You don’t need to tell me unless you want to.”

Something in the depths of Marinette’s irises suggested that she did want to. She just needed time and preparation, and she hadn’t really had either after the question was asked.

“Th-thank you,” she said.

… – – – … | … – – – …

“We’ll go together,” said Marinette, holding out a brooch towards Kagami.

“Together?”

“This is the Miraculous of the Peacock.” How unusual — she had an undertone of pride to her voice. “The Guardian has repaired it. If you accept, you will be a superhero alongside me and Adrienne, using Duusu’s power of Emotion.”

Kagami did have a very strong emotion right now. It bulged inside her chest as she looked at Marinette, because she was finally being offered a jewel by someone who cared for her.

“I accept,” she said.

“Put it on, put it on!” Then Marinette paused for a moment. “Um… if you want to.”

Rolling her eyes like Felicia would have, Kagami took the Miraculous out of Marinette’s hand and pinned it on her lapel. “Duusu, transform me,” she said, and felt a surge of magic throughout her entire body. Her muscles felt more powerful, her brain more alert, her clothes more…

She looked down. She was wearing what was clearly an ankle-length evening gown, though with a slit that revealed part of her thigh. The gown was a dark purply black. And in her hand, she held a fan. It was an outfit that was perfect for dancing, for soirees, and for romantic escapades with the girl she loved.

Marinette was gaping when Kagami looked back at her. “Wow,” she breathed. “What’s your name?”

A dance. “Pavonne,” she said, flicking the fan shut. “Do you want to dance with me, m'lady?”

“Um,” said Marinette, and looked down.

But she was blushing, and she was blushing hard. And that meant it was working.

“Plagg, transform me,” she mumbled.

And Kagami might just have blushed a little bit herself when she saw Marinette’s outfit so up close.

… – – – … | … – – – …

“Burn marks? Yeah, I got those,” said Felicia.

“What?” said Kagami.

“I don’t,” said Adrienne, but very quietly. “If it helps.”

“It doesn’t,” said Marinette, placing her forehead on the table.

It was the Saturday afternoon tea party with the macarons. Candles were lit on the table, to nobody's apparent discomfort.

Kagami’s macarons were also there, because she had finished her batch, but she had made them worse than Marinette. Which is to say, she had made them too perfect, so they were boring to look at in comparison to Marinette’s more distal shapes. One of Marinette’s looked like a five-pointed star, except the points were very short and somewhat uneven. Boring rounded shapes, with subpar macaronage, was hardly a competition for that display.

And Kagami had no idea whether Marinette had made the shapes imperfect on purpose or not. If she did, it was a good comment on how nobody here was a perfect clone of anybody else. They all had differences. If she didn’t, though, it was more of a comment on Marinette’s personality: irreverent, chaotic, messy, but intensely charming.

“I don’t think it’s the same burn mark,” said Amélie, sipping calmly at a cup of tea. “Colt may have been many terrible things, but he wouldn’t have spied on a naked six-year-old to replicate her burn wound.”

“I really hadn’t thought about that,” said Marinette with obvious horror. “But now I have to, and I hate it.”

“He just added a rough approximation based on what he heard from Émilie,” Amélie continued, possibly ignoring or perhaps just gently refuting Marinette’s concern. “He wanted to make a better clone than Adrienne, so he took it one step further. Lord knows why.”

“I've never hurt in them or anything, so it's probably just visual stuff," said Felicia. “These macarons are really good, by the way. I understand why Émilie loved them so much. Can you teach me how to make them?”

Marinette nodded her head sideways, towards her dad. “He’s way better than me. Ask him instead.”

Tom shrugged. “I can make them look nice, but I don’t think I can make them with the same amount of character as you, sweetie.”

“Then I will learn from you both,” said Felicia, so firm on that point that the other two hesitated for a moment. Then they both nodded.

And that was that, as far as the macarons went.

“I wonder what it’s like to be burnt,” said Adrienne.

Sabine let out a brief chuckle that almost sounded like it had a hint of aggression to it. “Believe me, dear. You don’t ever want to know. Our little sweetling was in hospital for a long time. She’s still sore to this day —”

“Mum!” whined Marinette. “I don’t wanna talk about this over tea and fucking macarons!”

Kagami put her teacup down. “Would you be willing to talk to me about it later, just the two of us?”

Marinette spluttered noiselessly into a stop, her lips opening and closing multiple times. And then she swallowed and nodded, but briefly like she didn’t want anyone else to notice.

Later, they snuck out from the tea party while everyone else was playing board games. They had a mission to carry out at the Tsurugi mansion. Though Kagami did borrow a box of matches from the kitchen before they left.

… – – – … | … – – – …

It wasn’t like it was a difficult mission. They only needed to take the signet ring off Mother’s finger and replace it with a different ring, and then pack a change of clothes from the cabinet in Kagami's room.

Kagami did have an extra objective, though. She also brought along all her candles from the bottom drawer: nine full packs of them, plus a handful of loose but interesting oddity candles she'd found at flea markets.

“What do you need those for?” said Marinette.

“Secret,” said Kagami. “I’ll tell you later.”

And then they were out of there, jumping across the rooftops, until Kagami stopped them when she saw what she'd been looking for. Flat, out of sight from the ground, wide enough to move about on: the top of the Eiffel tower.

“Take me up there,” she said, pointing towards the upper platform.

“How come?” said Marinette.

“I'll tell you once we're up there,” said Kagami. She was being abducted, after all, and abductions required drama.

They climbed and jumped to the top, and Kagami immediately took them inside Gustave Eiffel's apartment, where she started placing out candles on tables and countertops and into candlesticks.

“So, um, why are we stopping here?” said Marinette.

“I’ll tell you in a moment,” said Kagami.

“When is ‘a moment’?”

“Marinette,” said Kagami, putting down one more candle before putting the box down and turning around. “You need to answer one question for me before I explain anything.”

Marinette glanced to the sides. “Um… what’s the question?”

Kagami grabbed her by the hands. “Are you romantically interested in Alya Césaire? Is that why you’re reluctant to kiss me?”

In the fading light, Marinette’s saucer-wide eyes were almost like glittering portals. “W-what?” she said. “Alya?”

“Yes. Do you want to date her? Do you want for her to kiss you?”

“No!” Marinette shook her head vigorously. “I don’t wanna ruin Felicia’s chances! A-anyway, she’s a lovely person, but I don’t think of her that way.”

“So why don’t you want to date me?” said Kagami, frowning, clutching Marinette’s hands even more tightly. “What’s wrong with me?”

Marinette’s eyes went incredibly wide. “Nothing! There’s nothing wrong with you! You’re perfect!”

“That doesn’t sound like something you say in a rejection.”

“Because it’s not a rejection. Look,” said Marinette, using both hands to indicate her hip. “You can’t see them. But I know exactly where they are. They’re mine. Where I got burnt, that’s all mine. And I’m nervous because they’ve always been no-go zones, I haven’t let anyone see them, I haven’t let anyone — touch. Anywhere. Okay? They’re like… I don’t know. Personal to me. And, and I know you’re not exactly disgusted by them because you don’t look it, but I really don’t feel comfortable with… ugh. I’m scared, okay? I’ve spent my whole life hiding parts of myself. I can’t just suddenly stop hiding. That’s too much at once.”

Kagami took a few seconds to make sure she’d taken everything in. Then she smiled. “I’m not asking you to show me your scars,” she said. “I already know everything I need to love you, because what I love is your personality. And I love that you followed me to Mother’s house to help me take back my free will.” She held up her ringed hand; the ring glimmered a little in the fading evening light. “I still want you to kiss me. That’s my choice, my desire, I want it. If you don’t… then all I want is for you to tell me. Be upfront about it. I’ll accept it and move on. But if you do want it, I'd like you to kiss me.”

“You’re… asking me to do something that’s very difficult,” said Marinette, voice halfway between a strain and a sigh. But it couldn't be a complaint, because she ended it with a silly little giggle. “I’m flattered. Seriously. But… I never know what I want. I don’t even know if I want to keep baking, or if I want to draw, or make clothes, or whatever. I definitely can’t say for sure that I wanna kiss you. That’s fucking hard to know.

“But,” Marinette continued before Kagami could respond, “I can’t say I don’t like your new hairstyle. Or the way you look in that dress. Or… or who you are, as a person. But please don’t ask me to know anything for sure before I’ve tried it.”

That might be the most promising response Kagami could expect under the circumstances. She sighed and pulled the ring — her heart — off, proffering it to Marinette. “Take this,” she said.

“Um?”

“Take it. Hold it in your hand and say, ‘Ignore the command your mother gave you that you must never strike a match or create fire by any other means. You are free to make your own choices in regards to fire, from here until forever'.”

“… Okay,” said Marinette, cautiously grabbing the ring. “Er… Kagami. Please ignore the command — no, fuck it.” Her frown dug severe furrows into her cheeks, and she continued in what almost sounded like a growl. “Ignore the hell out of anything your mother has ever told you. Be free and make your own choices about everything. And, um, especially about fire but not exclusively.”

Kagami felt a kind of lightening in her chest. Maybe that was because the commands she had been given over the years had all been broken at once, or maybe she just felt that way because of how intensely Marinette had spoken.

“Thank you,” she said, and reached her hand forward. “Now put the ring on me again.”

Marinette did so. She carefully slid the ring back over the ring finger, exactly the finger Kagami had wanted. At that moment, it was clearer to Kagami than ever that all the worries she’d had about autonomy were meaningless: she could command Marinette as easily as Marinette could command her, even when Marinette was literally holding in her hands the heart that could tell Kagami to do anything. And Kagami had a different haircut, one that she’d had for days now, and she was free to decide her own activities and interests and hobbies.

It just so happened that one of her interests was Marinette. And she knew for a fact that Marinette didn’t have that interest herself, because she just didn't think highly enough of herself to do so.

Kagami pulled out the box of matches once the ring was on. She saw a slight hint of terror in Marinette’s eyes, which shone through even though said eyes were so heavily cat-like in her Lady Noire transformation. But Kagami wasn’t planning to strike any matches tonight.

“You say you want me to be free,” she said. “I’ve never felt more free than I do right now, to be honest. But I want to let you be free, too.” She reached the box over. “I would like to dance with you, m'lady. In candlelight. And you like candles, even though you’re scared of fire.”

Marinette nodded. “Ye-yes.”

“If you want to, you can light the candles. You can light as many candles as you want. And then we can dance between them. Maybe that way, you’ll figure out if you want to kiss me?”

“I…” started Marinette. She looked down at the candles, her thumb stroking the box. The candles weren’t perfectly placed, but they didn’t need to be. And a lot of candles were still in their packs, or left lying on the side. That also didn’t matter, because they could be lit later on.

“If it makes a difference, m'lady, I really do want to dance with you,” said Kagami. It felt way too good to call Marinette that. She fully understood Adrienne; she didn't accept that Adrienne would say it to her lady, Kagami’s lady, but she understood.

And it seemed to do the trick. Marinette’s expression got firmer, though she was still only looking at the candles. “Okay,” she said. “I wanna dance with you too. I’ll fire ‘em up.”

Then she turned to look Kagami straight in the eye, and the evening sun glowed in through a window and across her entire face. Even though her looks weren’t the important part… she was breath-takingly beautiful. Beautiful, because her personality glowed through very pore of her otherwise Kagami-like appearance.

Marinette meticulously lit fifteen candles, at first using one match to light three and then lighting the others by carrying the first candle to light the rest of them. And then she walked straight up to Kagami and grabbed her by the waist.

They danced. They danced, and they danced, until the sunlight outside faded completely. And then they kept dancing as each candle died, one by one, and then into the darkness that followed.