Chapter Text
Nathaniel
Oh my lord. Those fucking soccer players… who do they think they are? I was just minding my business on one of the many wooden benches spreaded along the campus when that blonde idiot hit my face and my sketchbook with his ball.
—Oi, Nate, are you okay? —oh my god, he can’t be this fake and be a functional living person— I’m sorry that I hit you… —then, he looked down to the sketchbook I dropped when I got hit— oh, you’re drawing your pathetic superheroes again?
—Get a job —I sighed and tried to recompose myself, but my throbbing anger was accumulating in my throat and menacing to get out—.
—Oh, does Nate not like to share his drawings? —a friend of his, with dark, long hair, mocked me and shedded an ear-shattering laugh as she filmed me with her phone—.
—Shut up, Alya —I sat up from the bench and towered over all of them and took Alya’s phone off her hands. Being this tall was useful to play the danger card— Go bother somebody else today, will you?
Then, I saw a bluenette boy in the back of the group, with the ball that hit me between his hands and using his phone. He seemed to be minding his own business, but he had the ball, so he had to do something with this—.
I took the ball from him with roughness and threw it to the top of the ceiling of the school, where they sure would never get it back. In the process, this guy who was holding the ball dropped his phone to the ground. When he picked it up, he looked at me with annoyance.
—Idiot, that was my ball. And I was on my phone, I had nothing to do with what they did! —I rolled my eyes. Was he playing the victim to me? Pathetic—.
—Who cares? You are their friend, after all —I huffed— You have to do with this blue eye I’m going to get because of your stupid ball!
—Marc, it’s not worth it. He’s just worked up now —the ugly blonde Adrien approached him and put a hand on his shoulder— we’ll get the ball later.
—What do you mean? He’s the one who should bring it back to me! —this Marc boy frowned and pointed at me—.
—In your dreams —I simply responded as I leaned towards him— for next time, watch out for who you lend the ball to. Or get better friends, I don’t care.
I took my bag and left the place before my anger got the better of me, like in other occasions. Because these people were able to make me the villain, even though I did nothing to them and just defended myself.
It was right that there had been other times where I might have crossed the line, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get to speak up because of that. I try to be the bigger person, but sometimes people were very able to get me to a limit I despised.
I was climbing the stairs towards the arts room when I heard fast steps behind me and some screaming of a voice I had heard before.
—Hey, you! The ginger! —I turned to see who was calling me— Go get my ball, I did nothing to you!
—Oh my god, mind your business —I looked down to him and scanned him. Blue hair, emerald eyes with mascara-coated eyelashes and red-blue eyeshadow, and frowning brows— stop following me around and go get your ball if that’s what you really want.
But the boy had courage. Even if I was taller than him, he looked dead straight to my eyes. He would’ve intimidated me if he wasn’t so short.
—You know that the principal will hear about this if you don’t do it yourself, don’t you? —Was he threatening me? He was not scary at all.
—And? —I asked, because why would I care about the principal knowing? They never did anything when I got bullied, so I shouldn’t get punished for this.
—Well, as far as I know, you’ve got quite plenty of callouts, and if you messed up once more, you’d get expelled. Am I right? —his eyes gleamed with confidence from everywhere and he had a very annoying grin on his glossy lips.
How the hell did he know that? I talked to the principal in private months ago about that. This kid was totally messed up on the head.
—I guess your silence proves my point —the boy of the choker said— so I’d advise against leaving. For your own good.
I was speechless. I arched one of my brows and sighed, to follow him wherever I needed to.
—How did you know that I have an expulsion order? —I was genuinely asking because I didn’t want anybody else to know.
—Well, I have my contacts —he shifted his head to the side I was in to look at me again, with that incredibly egoistic attitude— and my ways, too.
We went downstairs and to the maintenance room to get some stairs. I placed them against one of the walls of the ceiling I threw the ball to, and I climbed those stairs, got down with the ball, and handed it to this boy. When I realized that I actually had obeyed him, I started questioning myself. What the hell, since when did I follow orders from a moron like him?
—Thank you —he said, when I gave the ball back —Have a nice day.
He turned and went back with the massive mass of jock soccer idiots with a shining smile on his face, that made me even angrier. How did I let him put me in a bind? I was stunned and very mad at the same time, but I just went back to class like normal.
…
Marc
It was finally time for training! I’m so excited for the bell to ring so I can leave and train. My body needs to move from all the tension from today with that ginger guy, but I ended up getting what I wanted in the end.
I packed my bag and left the classroom, and made a quick visit to the lockers to get all of my football gear and get changed. I hadn’t seen the person that had the locker next to mine yet in this first day of the year.
I set my password in the lock and opened my locker, and left my backpack there, next to the rest of things I needed. I sprayed a bit of deodorant and changed to my soccer equipment. The colors of the school were dark blue and black, which clashed with my bright red soccer shoes. I tied my hair into a ponytail and pinned my bangs to the side.
When I was about to turn around and go to the playing field, I saw someone next to me and opening his locker: the ginger. Great. I’m so excited about this.
—Oh, it had to be you who had the locker next to mine. Of course —I rolled my eyes—.
He left some of his books in the locker and took some art supplies and ignored what I said. I hated the guts of those who ignored me, so I prodded him with my elbow and he finally looked down at me.
—Did you hear me?
—Oh, is somebody here? I noticed a pinch, but I see no one… too bad.
And he just like that, he walked out of the locker room, giving me a side eye. What a big idiot. But I had to swallow my anger, because the playing field was waiting for me. I wouldn’t let this distract me.
…
Training was done for the day. I was changing next to all of my teammates when one of them approached me.
—Aye, dude, how’s it going? You didn’t look good today —he said, as he put on a white shirt and started packing his training bag.
—Oh, it’s nothing —Sadly, I did let that ginger distract me. I tried to focus, but I missed lots of free shots, which were my specialty. The coach even scolded me and told me to come with a clearer mind tomorrow.
—Really? —Nino raised one of his brows— I saw that even the coach took you to the side.
—Yeah, because I was missing all of the shots —I sighed— it’s because of this artsy ginger boy from recess today. He has the locker next to mine and he ignored me.
—Were you mocking him? —he had no right no know me this well…
—Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I was trying to get on his bad side! I was just trying to joke around —I put on a loose tee and headed to the exit whilst I talked to my friend—.
—If you had approached him like a normal person, he might’ve not ignored you —Nino spun his cap to the back— but anyway. Did you know…?
When my friends start gossiping, I completely zone out, all of the time. It really bores me when people start talking about other people's lives for a laugh. I'm friends with them because they are on my team, but most of the stuff they did was off of what I liked.
When I reached the exit after crossing half of the campus with Nino yapping to my ear, we parted ways and I sighed in relief. I put on my Airpods and played my favourite playlist, whilst I walked back home. Oh, how I wanted to get inside the shower right now… the only thing I hate about sports is sweating, because then I smell horribly.
As I was walking straight, I noticed somebody exiting the school through one of the back doors with a huge backpack-binder-whatever and a bunch of stains on his pants. It was the ginger boy. Why did I keep seeing him everywhere I went? This was getting ridiculous.
I decided to ignore him and just go my way. But he didn’t change streets and we were both doing the same route. And, to my realization, I saw him opening the door to the house adjacent to mine. Of course he was the new neighbour my parents were talking about.
I just got my keys from my pocket and entered my house. My mom was preparing dinner and my dad sat on the couch. He must’ve arrived from work recently. I said hi to both and headed to the bathroom to take my very deserved shower.
…
Nathaniel
When I came back home, I yeeted myself through the room to my very comfy bed. I had been working the whole afternoon on a painting for a competition coming up at school. That’s something I enjoyed a lot: sitting on a bench and just letting the brush slide onto the shapes I wanted. It was even better than just drawing or sketching, but it was very time-consuming.
I cleaned my dirty clothes for tomorrow and stayed in the comfort of my room, planning ahead for assignments for school and commissions I had pending. I earned a bit of money for myself from art; I post it online and people seem to love it. Some even buy my art!
I changed into my pajamas; it had gotten late, but I didn’t realize because I was so concentrated on working. This happens more often than I would like, because it bothers me to leave a task undone if I had started it.
I stretched my arms and went inside my bedsheets, when I heard a knock in my window. I was weirded out, but i checked anyway. The thing that had knocked into my window was a man that looked like a black void and extended a hexagonal box to me, with a small letter over it.
I hesitated, but I was just too curious. I opened the box to see some hairpins in the shape of a goat’s horns. When I put them on, a blinding ball of light came out of the hairpins. I covered my eyes in an attempt to protect myself. But then, the shining stopped and I heard a high-pitched voice, muffled as if someone was covering their mouth.
When I dared to look, I saw the small figure of a floating being, which was similar to a goat and had its mouth shut by a red symbol.
—Hey, I don’t know what you are, but how do I get this thing off of you? —I got closer to the creature as it shrugged his shoulders. It pointed to the piece of paper that came with the box, which I opened.
“Dear Nathaniel Kurtzberg:
You have been chosen to participate in the Supreme. The Supreme is an organization that hands out magical jewels called the Miraculous, which can give powers to the bearer. Their power is immense, so that’s why the organization carefully selects the bearers based on how they would embody the concept of their Miraculous.
Yours specifically is the miraculous that embodies the concept of passion. You’ve been chosen to bear this miraculous because of your recognition as an artist all across Paris and the Internet. The power that this jewel gives you is the power of Genesis. You can create any non-magical object that you imagine.
The creature that comes out of the jewel is called a Kwami. Yours is specifically called Ziggy, even though she’s been restricted to keep the confidentiality of the organization. To transform, you must wear your jewel, have your Kwami nearby and say: “Ziggy, bleat it!”
The meeting point for the bearers to meet is the old factory next to Notre Dame. You must never reveal your identity to anyone, and never use the Miraculous for your own benefit. If the organization detects that you have done any of these, the possession of your miraculous will be instantly removed.
That’s all that you need to know for now.
Greetings,
The Supreme.”
When I finished reading, I looked at the creature. It was being repressed, and it felt so bad to not be able to liberate it or communicate with it, so I came up with an idea. I went to my crafts table and folded some paper into a mini-notebook format, so the Kwami could write something. I handed it a pen and I hoped that it got the hint.
“Thanks for trying to help me, but this constraint is magic” —it wrote into the paper— “You can’t undo it”
—I will try my best, Ziggy —I petted the creature’s head— I don’t want to be a villain, but I might be able to destroy them from the inside if I become part of the team.
Ziggy looked very surprised, and hugged my cheek. I returned the hug, squishing it lightly with my hand. This Kwami was seriously adorable, even if it couldn’t talk. Then, the Kwami floated back to the mini-sketchbook and wrote something else.
“Thanks for seeing through them, Nathaniel, we need help”
Poor things. I couldn’t imagine what they were going through at the moment. From what I heard, there are probably more Kwamis being restricted like this.
—I’ll destroy them —I said to the Kwami, but a yawn interrupted me— but first I need to be a living being tomorrow.
I didn’t take out the hairpins. I wanted Ziggy to be free with me as long as it could. Ziggy made itself a ball next to me in my pillow, and we both started snoring.