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Chat Noir was falling into endless darkness.
Just as he had done countless times before, when the akumatized villain targeted Ladybug, he rushed forward without hesitation to shield her from the attack. It had almost become instinctive for him; he would do anything to ensure her safety.
He had been lost in time, vanished in space, his very existence reduced to ashes. This time was no exception. It was no different from how he had been killed before. He, Chat Noir, could say almost proudly that he was the cat who died a million times, a title most people could never attain.
This time, the villain's ability was to turn others into bananas. Chat didn't want to think about the irony, or perhaps it was finally his retribution for wearing the banana costume so many times. The only thing he was certain of was that he didn't want to, and would never, watch his Lady become a banana. An ordinary fruit could never represent that confident, lively, and agile beautiful girl.
Of course, even if Ladybug were to turn into a banana, she could never be an ordinary banana. She was so exceptional that she would stand out wherever she went. That was precisely why she couldn't be struck down; she should continue to exist as a human, shining brightly in the field she truly loved. Most importantly, she had to purify the Akuma.
So Chat Noir endured death time and time again. That was the meaning of his existence. He couldn't capture the Akumas, nor could he repair the destruction done to the city. At least his life had some purpose: to buy Ladybug time to implement her battle plan.
The feeling of death was different every time. Just as Plagg meticulously savored the flavors of different cheeses, Chat's experience had broadened to the point where he could comment on the sensations of different ways of dying. Sometimes he felt excruciating pain, as if someone were churning his internal organs into a jumbled mess, shattering every bone, and piercing him with countless tiny needles. Sometimes he felt as if he was walking on clouds, light and airy, as if he was about to take off into the sky. Sometimes he simply felt utter peace.
As for this time, his experience wasn't the worst, nor was it pleasant. He simply felt his entire body contorting and deforming rapidly, strange but painless. He'd give this near-death experience a six out of ten. One point was for finally becoming the real Bananoir, though Ladybug probably wouldn't find the joke amusing.
Then, regardless of what he had experienced before, there was only one ending for him. His senses would be suddenly stripped away, and he would fall into nothingness. There would be no more concepts; life and death would become meaningless syllables. To the outside world, or at least to Ladybug, he was undoubtedly dead at that moment. To himself, there was nothing there.
What followed was usually Ladybug using her power to pull him back into his body from the empty void, with no recollection of what happened in between. The experience of resurrection was far less remarkable than death; after all, he had no consciousness until everything was restored, and he had no idea what the process was like. When he regained awareness, he was already standing safely on the ground, and the battle was over.
Ladybug successfully resolved everything this time as usual. Chat returned to human form, absentmindedly wondering if he would ever be able to eat bananas normally again without being reminded of this experience.
It was not that recalling death was particularly painful for him. Frankly, he didn't mind. Sometimes he even missed that absolute peace. If he were to think about what happened today while eating a banana, he'd probably just shrug and take a bite.
Ladybug walked towards him. Chat raised his fist, smiled, and said, "Pound—"
Before he could finish speaking, Ladybug hugged him tightly.
"Stop doing that!" He couldn't tell if her voice was angry, sad, or both. "Stop rushing to your death like that!"
He wanted to promise her. He wanted to make the assurance she wanted to hear. He wanted to tell her, yes, I will be more careful from now on, and I will not die in battle again.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't make a false promise.
All Chat could do was hug her back and tell her in a stiff voice, as gently as possible, "My duty is to protect you, my lady, even if it costs me my life."
“How could you—how could you talk about your life so casually?” she said incredulously, “as if it didn’t matter to you at all?”
Because it really didn't matter, he thought bitterly. He wisely kept quiet, so that Ladybug wouldn't react even more violently.
“You’ll always bring me back with Miraculous Ladybug,” he reassured her. “I won’t really disappear.”
“What if it doesn’t work?” She took a step back, gripping his shoulders tightly, and looked up into the depths of his eyes. “What if I don’t win the battle? I won’t even know who you are, your family, your friends… and your girlfriend! They won’t even know you sacrificed yourself as Chat Noir!”
Chat's mind flashed back to Gabriel's indifferent expression, and for a moment he cared less about whether he was alive or not. He quickly thought of his friends and began to realize that he really should seriously consider this question.
He thought of Marinette, the girl he loved deeply. The thought of hiding the truth from her disgusted him, but it was the only way he could do it, to protect his secret identity.
Ladybug was right. What would Marinette do if things truly reached a point of no return? If Adrien were declared missing, would she wait for him to return? He knew her too well; given her personality, she would probably never give up on finding out the truth about him. Alya would likely help her; that young journalist would surely uncover the truth. Nino would definitely join in too.
Chat thought he shouldn't let his friends suffer like this because of him. Wasn't Chat Noir's sacrifice justified? Almost everyone praised his act of shielding Ladybug from the attack, proclaimed his deep affection for her, and was moved by his selfless courage. He had also heard some people say that Chat Noir was actually dispensable in the team, that Ladybug alone could solve all the problems, and Chat's only role was to withstand those deadly attacks.
He believed this himself. Therefore, he shouldn't let his friends worry about someone who deserved to die.
He had to somehow make sure they would be able to leave him behind after he died. He also had to arrange everything so he wouldn't have to worry about what to do with his own things.
Chat suddenly realized that he should write a farewell letter.
“Chat!” Ladybug shook his shoulder. He realized he hadn’t spoken in a long time, nor had he answered her.
“Yes, you’re right,” he said. “I hadn’t thought about them. I have to do something.”
He silently apologized to her, because he still had no intention of changing his headstrong, impulsive style. No matter how many times, no matter when or where, he would always choose to give up on himself rather than her.
“Chat,” Ladybug called his name softly again, “I’m not asking you to think about them. I want you to think more about yourself.”
He felt he had never studied French, otherwise why would Ladybug's words seem so foreign and incomprehensible to him?
He sacrificed himself voluntarily, right? If that was the case, why should he consider his own safety?
As if reading his mind, Ladybug gripped his hand tightly: "You are important, not because you are my partner, nor because you are a specific person. I mean, you are special to me, and I care about you. But you don't need anyone's opinion or attention to become important."
"Thank you." He felt something stuck in his throat, making him feel a little choked. "This means a lot to me."
He couldn't do it. Ladybug might be right, and he could try to convince himself that way. But he couldn't genuinely agree with her.
He could tell from Ladybug's eyes that she also knew he wouldn't change so quickly. He hoped that at least she knew her words truly meant a lot to him, and that he was genuinely grateful to her.
Dear Marinette,
If you are reading this letter, then I am already dead. I don't know who will deliver this letter to you, but she is someone I absolutely trust. Forgive me, I never imagined I would say goodbye to you this way. If permitted, I might give you one last rose and say "I love you" to you one last time.
This letter contains my last wishes. I trusted you with all my life, so I chose to let you see all of this. I don't want everyone to see my last words; I've received enough attention in my life.
I don't know how I'll die. Like the old saying goes, you never know which will come first, tomorrow or an accident. Sadly, I don't have a tomorrow.
Sorry, I guess that's not funny.
I feel incredibly lucky to have met you. You are like sunshine, illuminating my life. Everything about you is so wonderful. I love watching you diligently sketching in your sketchbook, and I love hearing your laughter when we talk.
There's a good chance you've heard about my disappearance. Please don't obsess over finding me; I must be dead. I can't tell you why I'm so sure, but please believe me one last time.
Please remember, I truly love you. The extent of my love for you far surpasses what words can express.
Adrien bit the cap on the end of his ballpoint pen. He didn't want to write so verbosely, but the thought that this would be the last time he told Mari how much he loved her made him keep writing. He wanted her to know just how important she was to him.
The fact that he loved Marinette swirled in his mind and took deep root in his heart. This love surged uncontrollably when he seriously considered the possibility that he might lose the right to express his feelings.
The sudden surge of emotion was so intense that he could barely bear it. His vision blurred, and a thin layer of tears filled his eyes.
“Marinette,” Adrien murmured the name, feeling a weight on his tongue, as if he were speaking jewels rather than words.
“Marinette,” he repeated. There must be some kind of magic in the word that made him say it over and over again.
A drop of ink had condensed on the pen nib from not writing for a long time. He found a piece of white paper and absorbed the ink so that his farewell letter wouldn't be destroyed.
Now it was time to get down to business.
He wasn't sure if his father would allow him to freely dispose of his own things. He always decided without any room for argument what his son should and shouldn't have, and no one would be surprised if he continued this practice after Adrien's death.
Adrien imagined leaving something to a friend in his will, like a game console to Nino. Nino would go to Agreste's mansion to fulfill his wish, only to be turned away by Gabriel. When his best friend produced his will as evidence, Gabriel merely snorted and ignored Adrien's posthumous request as he had ignored it while Adrien was alive.
The thought of such a scene caused a pang of pain in his heart.
But he had to try. He still wanted to leave something for his friends.
He wrote that he would leave the game console to Nino and the camera to Alya. He wrote down everything he could think of, searching for suitable successors for them. He wrote for a long time until his eyes began to ache and drowsiness overwhelmed him.
“Go to sleep, kid,” Plagg advised. The little black cat had been quietly watching Adrien write, unusually not disturbing him with clamor for cheese.
“I haven’t finished writing yet,” he argued. “I still have other friends to write what I want to say to them. I want Marinette to send it out for me in the future.”
“You can continue writing tomorrow. If you’re sleepy, you should go to sleep, just like you should eat Camembert when you’re hungry,” Plagg said.
Adrien said dismissively, "I'm pretty sure no one but you would eat cheese as a staple."
Even so, he obediently climbed into bed, with Plagg lying next to him. The bed was big enough, but Plagg often insisted on sleeping close to him, saying that this way they could sense each other's movements immediately and get into battle faster in case of danger. He never called out his excuse, only secretly finding it amusing. Plagg was actually quite endearing; he wasn't as indifferent to everything as he appeared.
His thoughts drifted back to his unfinished letter.
“Plagg?” he asked. “What would happen to you if I died in battle?”
"Nothing will happen. Your transformation will end, and then I'll be free to move around. Unless the ring is destroyed as well. However, since your suit is almost indestructible, the ring will usually be destroyed along with you if you die."
"If I die, and the ring happens to still be there, could you give it to Ladybug?"
“That’s exactly what I would do,” Plagg said, “but I hope that day will never come.”
"Will you tell her I am Chat Noir?"
“I will, kid,” Plagg muttered. “I will also tell her that you are the best Chat Noir I have ever met. I will tell her how excellent and kind you are, enough to wield the power of destruction.”
Adrien felt tears welling up again.
"It's so good to have met you." He tried his best to keep his voice from choking up.
“I’m also glad to meet you,” Plagg said. “Now, let’s go to sleep. I’m getting sick of talking about these sentimental topics.”
Although he said that, Plagg shifted closer to him. He knew Plagg cared about him, but was just not used to expressing it verbally. This made him want to cry even more.
Adrien had never thought so seriously about what he wanted to do with his belongings if he died, or what he wanted to say to his friends. As he truly began to reflect, he realized that his connection to the world was far stronger than he had imagined. He loved anime, games, and books—they were all fascinating. And he loved his friends, and they loved him too.
He suddenly realized that death was not as peaceful as he used to think.
Adrien invited Marinette to his house to watch a movie or just chat. In other words, what they did wasn't important. They just wanted to be together.
Entering Adrien's home was no easy feat. Sometimes Marinette was genuinely curious about Gabriel's unique thought process, which led him to believe that this isolated and secluded life was protecting Adrien.
However, having known Adrien for so long, his friends had already developed several plans to sneak into his house. Marinette was quite adept at it. Disguising herself as someone else was usually the most effective method. As for occasions where disguise wasn't an option, the simplest methods were often necessary.
Marinette pressed the doorbell, and a camera appeared.
“I’m here to see Adrien. We have a group project to complete.” She held up the book in front of the camera. She didn’t even look closely at what book it was, probably physics.
Usually, the person behind the screen was Nathalie, who seemed to completely control everything in the Agreste household. Marinette couldn't help but wonder if her salary was commensurate with her job.
The camera retracted, and the door opened. She wondered if it was just her imagination, but Nathalie seemed much more agreeable lately, even if Gabriel might not agree with her approach. The group project was a rather clumsy but effective excuse, and she was surprised Nathalie opened the door so quickly.
Maybe she finally couldn't stand her boss anymore. Who knows? Maybe she'd be a better fit as Adrien's guardian than Gabriel.
Marinette went up the stairs and knocked on Adrien's bedroom door. Adrien had been waiting for a long time, and before Marinette even knocked a second time, he impatiently opened the door and let her in.
"What's the official story behind our date?" he asked in a low voice.
“Uh,” Marinette casually flipped open the book, “Measurement and formula deduction of the period of a simple pendulum? How about this one?”
"Excellent!" he said with satisfaction. "How about we test it out in Ultimate Mecha Strike III? Let's see who has a better grasp of the knowledge points."
“That suits me perfectly.” She understood the meaning behind his words, and a competitive spirit ignited within her. “I bet I will absolutely defeat you.”
After playing several rounds, both of them were a bit tired. They didn't have the chance to go all out against another equally skilled opponent every day, and each match was quite mentally taxing. Marinette had to admit that Adrien's gaming skills had improved significantly. But she was still the strongest.
“I’ll go get some water and food. What would you like?” Adrien stood up.
"Cookies will do."
Adrien nodded. While waiting for Adrien to return, the restless Marinette stood up to stretch. As she walked around to his desk, she couldn't help but glance at what was on it. It seemed to be a letter, most of the contents obscured by the books on top. When she saw one sentence sticking out, Marinette's breath caught in her throat.
“Dear Marinette, If you are reading this letter, then I am already dead.”
What...what does that mean?
She knew it was wrong to peek at what he was writing, but that one sentence alone made it impossible for her to remain rational. She carefully pulled out the letter and quickly began to read it.
This was a farewell letter. Adrien believed he was going to die, and most likely disappear.
Why would he have such thoughts? Why did he know so clearly how he would die?
“Ti—Tikki?” Marinette asked, trembling. The red Kwami peeked out of her purse and looked at the letter with her. “Do you—do you think he’s planning to commit suicide?”
“Marinette, calm down, maybe it’s not what you think…” Tikki immediately remembered Chat Noir’s words, “I have to do something,” and understood why he had written such a letter. But she couldn’t tell Marinette any of this, and could only comfort her with these pale and powerless words.
Marinette couldn't calm down. Her catastrophic thoughts completely erupted.
She knew Adrien wasn't nearly as cheerful and outgoing as he appeared. Gabriel was a complete paranoid control freak, yet he still genuinely loved his father and was forced to obey his orders. His free time was crammed with various classes and jobs, leaving him with very little real time. He couldn't even eat what he wanted because he was a model and had to adhere to a strict diet. He was forced to be perfect, outstanding, like a "true Agreste".
What if he finally couldn't take it anymore and decided to end it all? Otherwise, why would he write a will?
Perhaps he planned to escape to some deserted place and die quietly someday? That's why he thought he would be recorded as missing, because he knew no one could find him! This is the most plausible explanation... and also the most terrifying one!
Marinette felt her breathing quicken and her head spin. She loved Adrien so deeply that the thought of him possibly dying terrified her. She couldn't… she couldn't lose him! She clenched her fists, her knuckles turning slightly white. Her vision blurred.
“Marinette!” Tikki shouted in her ear, “Breathe to my rhythm!”
After taking a few deep breaths, she felt much calmer. Then, realizing she couldn't let Adrien know she'd read his letter, she quickly put everything back on the table as it was. Adrien still hadn't returned, so she took the opportunity to open a drawer and look around, praying she wouldn't find sleeping pills or anything like that.
Fortunately, she didn't find any suspicious items, only an overly elaborate envelope.
Footsteps sounded outside the door. She hurriedly sat back down on the sofa, giving Adrien a somewhat forced smile as he appeared in the doorway.
“Sorry, I ran into Nathalie when I went downstairs. She asked me some questions about our group project.” He gently closed the door. “I think she actually knew why you came, but she didn’t say anything about it.”
He placed a plate of cookies on the coffee table. Marinette was preoccupied with the momentous discovery she had just stumbled upon and wasn't paying any attention to what he was saying.
"How have you been lately?" Marinette blurted out, then immediately regretted it. It was a rather abrupt question, more suitable as a greeting when you first meet than something you'd asked halfway through a conversation.
If Adrien realized she knew, would he deliberately act as if nothing was wrong in front of her to put her at ease? Or would he become even more terrified and resistant?
Fortunately, he didn't find it strange. "Oh, I'm doing well lately." Was his smile genuine or forced? "Whether I'm out with friends or spending time with you, I feel quite happy."
If he was truly happy, why would he write that kind of thing?
Marinette's breathing quickened involuntarily once again. "You—" her voice cracked with emotion, forcing her to pause for a moment before continuing, "You won't leave me, will you?"
Adrien became alert. He knelt down, gently took Marinette's hand, and looked intently into her tear-filled eyes. "What happened? Why are you asking? I swear I will never leave you, Marinette," he said. "I love you. I will love you forever and ever."
Marinette cried even harder. Adrien was at a loss, completely confused about what was happening, and finally sat down next to her and patted her back.
“It’s okay,” he said gently. “Whatever happened, things will definitely get better.”
Marinette wanted to ask him if he truly believed what he was saying. She couldn't utter a single word.
Chat Noir noticed Ladybug's distracted state during the patrol. This usually meant something was wrong in her civilian life. He hoped it wouldn't disrupt his plans; what he was about to do might only worsen Ladybug's mood.
“My lady, you seem to be in a bad meowd today,” he joked.
Ladybug didn't react. Oh no, things were really serious, as she didn't even complain about his pun.
"Is everything alright?" he asked tentatively.
“I am fine,” she said impatiently and sharply. “Nothing to worry about. As always.”
Chat sighed. Countless moments like this made him desperately want to know who was behind the mask, so he might be able to understand what was troubling her.
"I'll go east, you go west, and then we'll meet here?" he suggested.
Ladybug didn't object, silently swinging her yo-yo westward. Chat ran while pondering how to start the conversation with her.
The patrol was uneventful, and he completed the entire route in no time. Aside from rescuing a trapped kitten from a tree, nothing else happened. He returned to the starting point, leaned against his staff, and quietly waited for Ladybug to finish her patrol. Soon after, the hero dressed in red and black landed beside him. They sat down on the rooftop.
"So, would you like to talk about what happened?" He tried to make his tone sound neither too flippant nor too serious.
Ladybug stared intently at a telephone pole, as if it were the most interesting thing she had ever seen. Just when Chat thought she still wasn't going to say anything, she suddenly spoke up. "What would you do if you found out your boyfriend was planning to commit suicide?"
“Surprisingly, I don’t have a boyfriend,” Chat answered instinctively. He had a vague feeling that today’s conversation wouldn’t be easy. “But I do have a girlfriend.”
"Then it's your girlfriend. It's not important."
"Is this what you're worried about? Because he..." He didn't finish his sentence, looking at Ladybug with a questioning gaze. The latter reluctantly nodded.
He tried to imagine what he would do if Marinette were to commit suicide. The mere thought terrified him, and he barely dared to imagine it any further. He had no doubt that if Marinette were to die, he would follow her.
“Absolutely not,” he murmured. “I can’t live without her.”
“Me too,” she said. “So I’m really scared. I don’t know what to do.”
Chat forced himself to pull himself out of his fear. “If it were me, I would be by her side. I don’t think she would want me to panic or lecture her about why she shouldn’t commit suicide. That would be too arrogant.” He thought carefully. “I would ask her if she was having any problems, and then work with her to solve them. I would let her know that I would always support her. I would let her know… that I love her with all my heart.”
Ladybug looked up, gazing into the depths of the night sky. "I think you're right. Thank you, Chat."
He looked at her profile and suddenly felt that today wasn't a good time. But since he couldn't rule out the possibility that he might sacrifice himself tomorrow, he had to do it.
He swallowed hard.
“Actually, Bugaboo, I have a favor to ask you,” he said hesitantly.
"Tell me, Chat. I'll help you with anything I can."
“Well,” he said slowly. “I’ve thought a lot since the last battle. You’re right, my friends and loved ones won’t know that I died as Chat Noir. To resolve this, I wrote a farewell letter.”
Ladybug's eyes widened. If he could read minds, he would recognize this as "Why are the two most important boys in my life at risk of suicide?"
"You—" her voice was almost a whisper, "What did you write?"
“This letter is for my girlfriend, but I don’t want to give it to her now. If she hears me say something like ‘open it after I die,’ she’ll definitely become suspicious. I can’t be completely sure she won’t open it while I’m still alive. She might be tempted to read it once to make sure nothing has happened to me,” he explained.
Ladybug said nothing; she seemed utterly shocked. He knew she would rather he cherish life than dwell on the consequences of death. She probably wouldn't have felt well hearing what he said.
"So I want to give you this letter. It contains my girlfriend's name, and I hope you can give it to her as a civilian after I die. Since it contains information about me, you will definitely not risk knowing my identity by peeking at it. This way, my identity will remain a secret, and I won't have to worry about how my affairs will be handled after I die."
He was thankful he hadn't reached the point of wanting to commit suicide. Otherwise, Ladybug would be far more worried. The last thing he wanted was to cause her more trouble.
Chat pulled a letter from his pocket. Ladybug stared at the overly flamboyant envelope as if it were a bomb. He had deliberately chosen a rather elaborate envelope— Marinette deserved the utmost respect. He handed it to Ladybug, who hesitated to take it.
Without warning, she suddenly broke down.
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she lunged at Chat, hugging him tightly. The sudden movement caused them both to fall to the ground. Even so, she kept her arms wrapped around him tightly, as if he would disappear if she loosened her grip even slightly.
“Hey,” he asked, fighting his panic, “Are you alright?”
“Not at all—not at all!” Ladybug sobbed, burying her head on his shoulder. “Why—why do you always do this? Why don’t you ever care about your own life?”
He tried to sit up, but the movement was especially difficult with Ladybug pressing down on him and refusing to let go. He had no choice but to remain in that position, placing his hands on her back.
"I'm sorry." He wasn't sure why he was apologizing. Maybe it was because he had upset her.
He wanted to tell her not to be sad for him. He wasn't worth it.
He was never an important person. Does living or dying really make such a big difference? If his death would have been more valuable, why grieve for it?
He couldn't say anything.
After an unknown amount of time, Ladybug finally calmed down. Or rather, she calmed down relatively. At least she stopped crying.
"I simply can't believe it's always been you," she said through gritted teeth. "You've died so many times, you actually died so many times!"
“I don’t deny that I did do such a thing,” Chat muttered. “I just felt it was more worthwhile.”
He shouldn't have said that. Ladybug was now even more upset and angry. He had a vague feeling that she wasn't angry with him, but he couldn't quite place who it was.
She finally moved off him. They sat up.
“Listen.” She looked him into the eyes, just as she had after the last battle. “You don’t need to be valuable to live. You owe no one anything, you—”
She poked his chest.
"—You have the right to live for yourself. And you should, Adrien."
He almost doubted that he had heard correctly.
Ladybug knew who he was.
“What?” Chat stammered. “When did I make that mistake? How did you know?”
Her gaze softened. "It's not your fault, kitty," she soothed. "I found out myself."
Chat breathed a sigh of relief. Ladybug didn't seem upset that his identity had been accidentally revealed. On the contrary, she seemed quite happy.
She suddenly gasped, grabbed his arm, and asked urgently, "You're not going to commit suicide, are you?"
“Of course not!” he denied categorically. He admitted he wasn’t as afraid of death as he should be, but he was definitely not at the point where he wanted to give up his life. “Why ask that?”
She guiltily looked away and said awkwardly, "I might... have accidentally seen your letter?"
That doesn't make sense. He only started writing recently, and he always carefully hid it to avoid being discovered by others. Only once did he accidentally forget to put it in the cabinet.
"...and then I thought you wanted to commit suicide?"
The only person who visited his house during this period, and who also happened to be able to see this letter, was...
He suddenly realized.
“Spots off,” Ladybug said softly.
He stared intently as the two most important girls in his life merged into one person. He had imagined this moment would fill him with immense excitement and joy, but he never imagined he would feel his mind go completely blank, utterly incapable of thinking.
“My God,” he said, “I’m your boyfriend who was planning to commit suicide. How come I didn’t even know I was planning to kill myself?”
As the first sentence spoken after his identity was revealed, it was neither cool nor elegant. Marinette laughed inappropriately. He didn't laugh, because he was still immersed in the shock of witnessing this incredibly beautiful scene.
Chat did the only thing he could think of.
“Claws in,” he said. Plagg flew out, but before he could speak, Tikki covered his mouth and dragged him away. The two, their transformations gone, looked at each other, their eyes conveying everything.
Adrien pulled Marinette into his arms and kissed her forehead. "I'm so glad it's you," he whispered.
“Me too,” she replied, hooking her arm around his neck. She lifted her head and kissed his lips.
Their souls merged into one. A burning, pure love rose between them, their bond stronger than ever before. They were inseparable partners, lovers with a love as deep as the sea, everything they had brushed past yet regained. From beginning to end, it was always the two of them. It was them against the world hand in hand, and that remained unchanged whether they had masks or not.
They parted, panting. Adrien licked his lips, still savoring the moment, and admired Marinette's flushed cheeks with satisfaction.
Then he remembered something.
“So, since you are Marinette herself…” He took out the letter again.
Marinette sighed. "Do you have to bring this up again now?" she said sharply. "Are you really still planning to give this to me?"
“Maybe if you accept it, I’ll start thinking about how to live for myself.” He raised an eyebrow.
Marinette stared at him for a few seconds before finally relenting and taking what was in his hand. "You'd better think this through," she threatened, "or I'll kill you."
Adrien chuckled softly. Now that the two girls he cherished were the same person, he would probably protect her even more fiercely in battle. He wasn't sure if he could manage to sacrifice himself less frequently, or vice versa.
He knew that once his shadow merged with Chat's, his sacrifice would only cause Ladybug more grief. He apologized for this in advance.
However… in the days spent writing his will, perhaps he did begin to reflect on what his life was all about. Perhaps he did start to think about the world he saw, rather than how others saw him. If he were to perish in battle, Marinette would surely relentlessly try to enlighten him. Perhaps he would indeed come to appreciate life more in the future?
“I make no guarantees, Princess,” he grinned. “I can only tell you that I will try.”
——END