Chapter Text
Paris was, by all its residents’ accounts, having a perfectly normal day.
Which, unfortunately, was the first warning sign a random tourist could have.
After nearly two years (Or was it six?) of akumas, supervillains, giant babies, sentient pigeons somehow, and whatever that incident with the possessed mime had been, Parisians had developed a rather flexible definition of the word normal. Traffic jams caused by angry butterflies? Normal. A giant monster stomping through the city before lunch? Mildly inconvenient. The Eiffel Tower being used as a dramatic villain backdrop? Practically a weekly occurrence. The poor tourists who encountered literal goliaths during their short stay in Paris, though? Yeah, they’re never coming back.
Today’s crisis fell somewhere between a public nuisance and a ringing headache.
Unfortunately, it was rapidly escalating toward both.
The grandiose city of love had completely turned into a candy wonderland. Candy canes littered the streets, the leaves were all sweetened to candy cane, the serene waters were instead replaced with delectable chocolate, and the grandiose buildings of Paris all looked like gingerbread houses instead–truly a crime for architects alike. The one responsible for this? A candy shop owner drowning in debt for his struggling business.
And Hawkmoth always had such a sweet tooth, especially if they’re shaped like miraculouses, apparently.
The Candy Man–yes, that’s his akumatized name, how original–swept through the rocky road as he’d be chased by a familiar vixen. The chase had been relentless as he desperately slid through every nook and cranny just to slip past them. An alley there, a manhole there… he certainly didn’t want to be caught anytime soon, not when he still hadn’t spread the joy of candy just yet. Down a discreet alley, he finally took a breather as he quickly made candy walls for himself, hiding behind them as he had to think of another plan. Think. Think…!
“Pft…”
His eyes widened at the sudden bout of giggles, frantically looking around as he already readied his own weapons. Damn it, he must’ve missed one of them. His mind was going into overdrive, trying to recall everything that happened. He was sure he evaded that damned bee, that persistent turtle, and he JUST escaped the fox–
No.
He winced when he realized he missed somebody important–not just somebody, but a duo more formidable than those three combined.
His eyes frantically darted up to see one of them on the ledge of the balcony, the steel railings now transformed into chocolate sticks. But such a delicacy wasn’t important, not when the one perched on it as if it were her own throne was more daunting. The familiar red and black suit, the yoyo she lazily spun in her hands, the miraculous perched on her ears, and her signature blonde hair tied into an elegant bun with a ladybug clip holding it all together–
Merde…
“Missed me?” The ladybug heroine only hummed with amusement as she watched the akumatized villain’s face immediately sour; she was the last person he wanted to be caught by. Not when she possessed the power to take everything away from him.
“Scarlet Luck…!” The Candy Man only glared, already shooting with his crumb-coated blaster, full of very sharp candy canes, as the heroine only grinned, jumping out of the way, making sure she landed right in front of him. Damn it. He would’ve preferred that mangy cat, not her. Not when she would rather play with him than actually do the job quickly. ”Careful with that thing, might give me a toothache.” She already wraps her yoyo around the annoying blaster, swinging it away with a mere wink.
The Candy Man twitched; this damned bug…!
He wasn’t as defenseless as Scarlet thought, already throwing a fierce kick as she managed to block it, exchanging many quick blows. Just as she was about to get the upper hand, he suddenly made a massive lollipop and swung at full force, rendering her speechless, getting flung to the wall like a bowling ball.
”The hell–” And it was a strike! Our beloved heroine fell down the pile of trash cans as the Candy Man made his grand escape after that.
Candy Man - 1.
Scarlet Luck - 0.
Scarlet Luck quietly sheathed, okay that was an understatement–fully sheathed as she quickly got out of the heaps of trash, feeling utterly disgusted as she quickly swiped away the ones sticking to her. Oh, that was so humiliating…utterly humiliating…!
“Gross…Gross…! Merde who even eats this stuff…! Ouf, it’s in my hair…!” Scarlet Luck panicked as she was desperately whisking away the stains and even frantically looked around for anything–literally anything to get this off! When someone ever witnesses such a sight, they might just spot some sort of frantic diva throwing a whole tantrum instead of it being their actual superhero. And worse, if Chatton ever witnessed this, she would never hear the end of it. Good thing he was scouting the other area and not here–
“...Ahem.”
Her blood turned cold as she didn’t dare turn around, flinching as she nervously sweated. She didn’t even need to see his face to know he was sporting a massive grin on his masked face, putain. “Do NOT say a word to the team.” She quickly warned, glaring at him over her shoulder as she quickly snagged the wet towel from his extended hand.
“You don’t even know what I was going to say.” Chat Noir smirked knowingly, his arms crossed. The black cat never lost his edge. If there was ever a chance he could make fun of her, oh, he would gladly take it. And sure enough, now was such a chance. That damned smirk–the one that somehow managed to be charming and irritating at the same time–usually meant he was about to become insufferable. Scarlet Luck still hadn’t figured out how that worked, maybe black magic?
“I don’t need to; that ugly smirk on your face says it all already.” She huffed, letting the towel go, deciding she was sufficiently clean. Obviously, it wasn’t to her standards, but she really had no choice here when everything in a radius of a corner of her is sweet-induced goodness rather than anything useful.
“Ugly? I thought the entirety of Paris found my smirk devastatingly handsome.” Chat Noir retorted, already swinging his baton to scope out the area.
Scarlet Luck deadpanned at his audacity–and to think her heart skipped a beat for this annoying guy once! Yeah, definitely a fluke, a spur of the moment; there’s no way she’ll ever fall for someone as infuriating as him! It was all the Christmas spirit getting to her.
“More like a devastating example of a walking disaster, sure.” Oh, that made his eye twitch. Good.
“According to whom?”
“According to me.” She retorted, getting a chuckle out of him, simply rolling his eyes.
“Ah, yes. How gracious of the highest authority in all of Paris.” He’d even added in a dramatic bow to only annoy her further. The worst part was that he sounded completely sincere, and she would’ve believed it if she didn’t know how insufferable he really was.
“Focus, you mangy cat.” Scarlet Luck scowled at his antics, elbowing him as opened up her yoyo to communicator mode, sending a signal to the rest of the team. “Team, Candy-Eyesore was last seen in an alleyway at Rue des Thermpyles. Move in, fast.” swiftly instructed as both heroes were soon on the move once again.
“I’m nearby. Where do you think he could possibly go?” Rena Rouge grinned as she rolled down a downturned street which was turned into some sort of giant gummy worm, extending her pole as she jumped in the air to cover more ground, quickly looking around the Paris candyland.
“At this point? Probably anywhere he can hide just to escape us. Be on the lookout.” Scarlet instructed, jumping up the ledge to narrowly escape an army of gummy bears.
“Easier said than done, Scarlet. We have the entire street to look out for.” Carapace sighed into the intercom.
“Well, we wouldn’t have to do that if bugaboo over here focused on actually capturing him rather than posing for imaginary cameras.” Chat Noir said flatly, dripping with utter sarcasm, while the ladybug superhero only glared at him.
”Ha. Ha. Who asked for your unnecessary input…!” She dryly remarks as she deliberately cuts him off with a turn. Having expected it, he slid out of the way, picking up his speed.
“Freedom of speech truly is a liberating feeling.” Chat Noir only wistfully spoke out loud as she glared right behind him. “I’ll show you a liberating feeling once I get my hands on you…!”
The rest of the team shared exasperated looks even when they weren’t near each other. They just knew.
“Oh Merde…they’re bickering again.” Honeybee sighed as she looked around on a rooftop, scouting the area. Her bug-like eyes focused on a specific street, spotting a suspicious figure leaving a trail of candy behind. “Found him…!” She already has her spinning top, activating her coordinates for the rest of the team.
“Let’s not confront him just yet; he’s managed to escape once already.” Chat Noir pointed out after swinging his baton.
”Excuse me? And give him more time to escape?” Predictably, she didn’t agree.
“We need an actual plan and not just hope for the best, Scar.” He held a hand up at the fuming bug as the rest of the team racked their brains.
”Then what genius plan do you have?” Scarlet Luck snapped, smacking his hand away before crossing her arms. ”Because from what I’m seeing? Candy Cane’s already halfway across the district.”
“Well…He leaves a trail,” Honeybee pointed out from above, discreetly following from a row of licorice rooftops, adjusting her goggles to better watch from afar.
”Strange…Why would he leave such a trail now when he doesn’t want to be followed? That’s way too suspicious.” Chat Noir hummed as he pondered for a moment.
“Oh wow, the cat can think.” Scarlet Luck patronized.
“Oh wow, the ladybug learned how to speak.” He teased, matching her impatience with his own.
“She can learn to throw you off this very roof, too.”
Rena Rouge frowned, pinching the bridge of her nose. She used to admire them–well, she still does–but the term never meet your heroes truly applies here. “You two are unbelievable…”
“Guys, wait.” The tension in Honeybee’s voice didn’t go unnoticed. The Candy Man suddenly went still once he took a corner, unnaturally calm from his once frantic state. Honeybee was about to crouch further until he turned his head upward, directly locking eyes with Honeybee. Even from a distance, she could make out the wicked smile on his face.
“Uh…” She said, taking an involuntary step back, ”That plan might have to come sooner, because he spotted me following him.” Her voice sent chills down their spines, gulping nervously as the ground started to shake.
Honeybee could vaguely make out the villain lifting one hand, soon flicking it as every bright wrapper and scattered sweet littering the streets began trembling violently before lifting into the air like a menacing candy storm. The five heroes all noticed the danger soon looming over them.
“Oh, merde…” Carapace winced, holding his shield up; bracing himself for the incoming storm.
“Move!” Chat Noir instinctively shouted, grabbing Scarlet Luck by the wrist in mere seconds before a barrage of sharpened peppermint shards and rock candies exploded through the rooftop they once stood on–oh, thank the Gods they managed to evacuate the citizens from here.
“Hey–!” Scarlet Luck winced as she stumbled from the sudden pull, roughly skidding down another roof as once everything was clear, immediately yanked her hand back. ”I had that handled…!”
“Sure you did,” Chat Noir mocked, narrowly ducking as what suspiciously looked like molten caramel splattered against a chimney behind them, eating through the graham brick with an unsettling hiss. “...By becoming a smore?” And he would be forcefully shut up when she nabs a stray gummy bear by her side and forces it in his mouth.
“Everyone, okay? How’s everyone holding up?” Scarlet Luck checked in through the intercom as ignored the way Chat Noir rolled his eyes, not outwardly complaining when the gummy bear surprisingly tasted good.
Rena was the first to respond, albeit with a frustrated groan as she just narrowly avoided a raining avalanche of gummy bears. Carapace also answered, yet his voice was strained, digging his feet into the rooftop as the impact against his shield intensified. The candy storm slammed harder, brighter wrappers twisting violently through the air like metallic blades while lollipops spun dangerously fast, enough to crack the candied walls.
“This guy definitely upgraded…!” Honeybee winced as she narrowly avoided the barrage of sweetness, watching as the streets below were swallowed in a cyclone of sugar.
Scarlet Luck clicked her tongue, her blue gaze darting everywhere all at once.
Think.
Think…!
Candy Man had escaped once already. He was so desperate to escape, yet he suddenly stopped running and attacked them all at once. Why would he do that unless…
“...He’s gotten desperate.” Her eyes widened in realization, looking up to Chat Noir, who still anchored them both from the barrage of deadly sweets. “Chat, now may be the best time to capture him, especially when he’s gone berserk and can’t think properly.” Scarlet stood back up once again, thinking it over as she looked out at the crazed candy man on the loose.
Chat Noir’s lips pouted in irritation. Who jumps in headfirst against a crazed man!? But he narrowly missed a peppermint spear aimed at his head, embedding itself into the candied rooftop with enough force to crack it clean through. He shivered.
“You sure about that?” His ear twitched, his feline senses kicking in, spinning his baton as he blocked the wave of gummy bears. “Because he looks pretty committed to the whole candy tantrum right here and who knows what he has up his deranged sleeve.”
“He’s unstable, Chat. Which means he’s more prone to mistakes. I doubt he can even control that storm properly.” Scarlet Luck scoffed as she paused for a moment, her eyes squinting with sheer focus on the crazed Candyman.
Even when her teammates’ shouts were blaring, even when destruction was everywhere, Scarlet Luck stood still as she focused on the Candy Man alone–the way he summoned his attacks, the desperation on his face, the way he protectively shielded his right hand when the storm was too much he couldn’t control.
Got ya.
“Lucky Charm…!” Scarlet Luck suddenly activated her trump card, catching the spotted umbrella. Chat Noir could only stare at the randomest thing her ability could give right now.
”...Just what I needed to avoid a sugar rush.” He merely commented with a shrug.
She purposely ignored his usual sarcastic quips–even though she wanted to smack this umbrella for how practically useless it seemed to be–but that was the old Chloe! Her current self’s long used to the miraculous’s love for puzzles. Lucky Charms were never random; they chose their holders meticulously, constantly testing them with conspicuous objects that may seem useless at the surface–but ultimately, be the final key they need.
Even if it was a mere umbrella protecting her from the growing storm.
Tikki must’ve been worried now.
The rest of the superheroes eventually landed beside them, each one looking worse for wear after what they’ve gone through. They were all staking their hopes on Scarlet’s lucky charm to make this easier, but even they were confused on how a singular parasol could measure up to a raging cyclone causing destruction to the entirety of the city.
“A parasol…?” Rena Rouge blinked in utter disbelief. She couldn’t tell if the miraculous was truly a blessed thing or if it liked to troll Scarlet at this point.
Carapace, who looked a bit scratched up from taking the most damage, was personally offended. ”I don’t see how an umbrella can possibly save us from an entire candy storm, but okay.”
Even when they voiced out their complaints, Scarlet Luck would be eerily silent, merely looking down at the umbrella in her hands. Chat Noir, however, would be the first to notice the sickening smile on the heroine’s masked face, even when everyone else was still bewildered.”Oh.” He visibly recoiled; he knew that look.
‘Oh no.”
“Oh yes.”
“That face means danger.”
“That face means I figured it out, and also looks drop-dead gorgeous while doing it.” proudly huff as she was about to rush off by herself, only for Chat Noir to stop her by the arm. ”What the hell, you mangy cat?!” The heroine scowled as she quickly tried to shake him off, but he was annoyingly stronger than her.
“I know you, Scar. Once you figure out what to do, you’ll just jump ahead, expecting us to follow,” Chat Noir bluntly assessed her twitching eye, “You’re thinking too fast to lead.” He didn’t mind the candy explosion blaring in the distance; he continued, ”You’ve got the right idea. Candy Man’s unstable, overloaded, and protecting his right hand specifically–” How did he figure that out too– “But you’re not coordinating with the rest of us; you’re acting on your own.”
Scarlet Luck’s expression tightened. “Oh, I’m sorry, would you rather we all huddle around here like sitting ducks in the middle of the storm? I’m the leader–”
“Whatever insult you have for me, I’ll gladly take it as long as we all make it out of here with our miraculouses intact.” He only smoothed her over, even when she looked about ready to completely murder him. It took having Rena actually cough to even get their attention,
“Ahem? The plan?” She motioned over to the raging storm of candy hailing the entirety of Paris, because clearly that was FAR more important than their little argument right now. Scarlet Luck only scoffed, elbowing Chat Noir hard as he gave her a pointed look, apologetically nodding to Rena.
“Right, Rena. You create your illusions. Multiple copies of us from different directions. He’s unstable already, so if we overload his senses, he’ll start to panic and start throwing everything he has.”
“Got it, confuse the sugar psycho.” The fox heroine nodded eagerly in return.
“Carapace, I need you to stabilize that storm so it doesn’t cause more damage. Compress it and trap the storm inside Shell-ter.” Chat Noir motioned his baton over to the turtle hero this time.
“Smart, you plan to give him a taste of his own medicine?” Carapace smirked, pumping himself up.
“Something like that. Honeybee, when he’s distracted, you have to come up from behind to sting him with venom.”
“W-wait… you want us to go inside the dome sheltering the raging storm inside!? That’s way too dangerous…!” Honeybee glanced between the two, bewildered.
“I know it seems dangerous, but Scar and I will cover you as you do it. You just have to trust us on this,” Chat Noir gently assured the panicking bee.
“See? That’s why you should just leave it to me,” Scarlet Luck only huffed with pride, her arms crossed in utter defiance and sheer disbelief.
”Scarlet,” Chat Noir warned in a low voice, shaking his head.
“I am NOT being sidelined when I could have it handled!” She cut in, yet he retorted with a hand on her shoulder.
“I didn’t say you were.” Even when she was on the verge of her usual tantrums, he was still calm as ever.
“Yes, you did! You just said it with full confidence, too,” Scarlet twitched her eye.
He shook his head, giving her the most serious face imaginable. “I was about to say you’re the center of our plan.”
That made her actually pause her little rant, eyeing him suspiciously.
“…I am?” The other three looked utterly bewildered. He truly had a way of calming the tundra that had been in the form of Scarlet Luck.
“Yes.” Chat Noir only nodded as he looked down at the umbrella in her hands. “Your lucky charm will be our anchor.” He said that so smoothly that it actually surprised Scarlet Luck, making her heavily flustered.
T-their anchor?!
Oh, her ego went absolutely to the roof after that.
The other three deadpanned as they watched their supposed leader be utterly bewitched with Chat Noir’s words of encouragement. She was surprisingly a sucker for compliments.
Scarlet Luck was about to say more until the candy storm had finally reached them. Carapace luckily stepped in to extend his shield as he’d covered them all. Yet, with how much stronger this storm was getting, it was getting harder to cover them like this.
“Can we please strategize faster?! I don’t know how long I can hold this storm back…!” He yelled over his shoulder as the intensity heightened. Scarlet Luck and Chat Noir merely exchanged looks as he nodded, knowing what she wanted from him specifically, as they would soon start their risky plan.
“Rena, now!” And in a flash, dozens of copies of the miraculous team surrounded the candy maniac, each version of them moving in completely different directions that had been way too fast for him to keep track of.
“What the—stop—stop moving!” Candy Man recoiled instantly, desperately shooting at the illusions. His attacks range from peppermint spears, caramel arcs, and hardened sugar shards; all shredding through illusions like paper to a flame all at once. The mirage shattered violently, dissolving into mere speckles of light that vanished into the storm, but not before ultimately doing their job. Every false movement forced him to overextend, to lash out and lose his rhythm—it was all that Carapace needed.
“Shell-Ter…!” Carapace soon activated his own dome by slamming his shield onto the ground so hard the impact echoed through the district like a drumbeat. The dome surged upward, but it didn’t expand—instead, it contracted further to trap the raging storm inside.
Honeybee darted through the raging storm like a buzzing needle threading through collapsing fabric, her sight locked onto the smallest flickers of movement below. Her voice snapped through the comms, sharp and urgent.
“He’s losing it…! His right hand’s shaking harder than before—he’s losing control of the storm!”
Chat clicked his tongue, hard. Despicable, the lengths Hawkmoth would go to just to secure their miraculous—even at the cost of damaging a poor soul, he wouldn’t hold back at all.
He couldn’t wait to put that villain behind bars.
Before the Shell-ter could fully close off, Scarlet Luck, Chat Noir, and Honeybee slid inside just in time. The dome trapped the raging cyclone inside, the candies further intensifying inside the enclosed space.
“Don’t you dare get near me!” Candy Man viciously warned, grasping at all straws now as he further influenced the raging storm to target them specifically. Scarlet had to open the umbrella to shield themselves from the sharp rock candies, the barrage skidding them further back.
“At this rate, we’re going to get blown away!” Honeybee winced as she whirled her spinning top rapidly to shield one of their blind spots. Chat Noir did the same thing on the other side, and Scarlet gritted her teeth. They were quite literally sitting ducks out here, forced to defend themselves against him. This couldn’t exactly go on forever.
“Chat!” Scarlet called out behind her as the black cat instinctively nodded, shifting his stance. “Got it.” He’d hurried off so suddenly, tugging the very confused bee heroine along with him.
“What?!” Honeybee was stuck in the middle as keep glancing between Scarlet and Chat. What were they planning…!?
Unlike the confused heroine, however, Chat Noir didn’t wait for further clarification.
Because after two years of fighting side by side, there was one thing Chat Noir excelled at besides irritating Scarlet Luck beyond comprehension. And it was his insufferable habit of understanding her before she could even bark her orders.
Sometimes, before she even understood herself.
And honestly?
Terrifying.
Useful, yes.
But ultimately, terrifying.
“Chat?! What’s the plan?! I-I don’t—“ Honeybee’s gaze darted between them and to the crazed Candy Man, who was now personally targeting them both.
They’d vaulted over a collapsing peppermint ridge with a smooth twist of their weapons, boots barely grazing the unstable surface before it shattered beneath them entirely. Molten caramel surged upwards after them in thick burning waves, trying to swallow both heroes in gooey goodness, but he’d already spun once he would be midair and used the momentum to hook his staff against a bent candy cane protruding from the Shell-ter’s wall, sparing a glance over to see Scarlet run in the opposite direction in quick precision.
“We’re giving you an opening for your venom, bee. Ready for it?” He landed beside her, which totally surprised her.
“For my—what?”
“You’ll need to sneak up on him from behind, make sure you hide yourself behind the candy onslaught, we’ll distract him enough to not notice you.”
“What.”
“You just need to hit him and paralyze him long enough for me to cataclysm his right hand. Ready?”
“Wait what.”
“Go time!” Chat Noir grinned as Honeybee squeaked, hurriedly running off behind the eye of the storm while he’d reconvened with Scarlet Luck.
His baton extended with a metallic snap, launching him straight through the storm like someone had cut gravity out of the equation altogether, the storm swallowing him whole. Candy screamed through the air around him—peppermint spears sharp enough to even impale, caramel molten enough to burn clean through the graham brick, jawbreakers spinning like artillery shells fired by an emotionally unstable sugar psycho.
And somehow, annoyingly so…
He still made it look effortless.
He twisted sideways midair just as a sharpened candy cane shot towards his throat, catching it against his baton with an almost lazy flick of his wrist. “Rude!” He shouted towards the Candy Man with an annoying grin on his face. ”No sugarcoating anymore, huh?”
That immediately set the villain off as he hurled another barrage of attacks almost instantly. Molten caramel ribbons snapped towards him like a wicked vine ready to ensnare him. Chat Noir vaulted just in the nick of time. His leather boots landed against the curved edge of a collapsing sugar wall for barely half a heartbeat before launching himself upward again, only to meet face to face with hardened licorice shot with pure precision.
Shit. He can’t get away in time, he’ll have to take the brunt of it head-on–
Swing!
The impact never came when a yoyo wrapped around the hard licorice, sending it flying the other way as it’d be Scarlet’s cue. grip the opened umbrella, using it to navigate through the harsh winds of the storm as she yanked him by the wrist, a look of sheer focus etched on her face.
“Was wondering when you’d actually help, thought you’d leave me to suffer a little more.” He knowingly smirks, stabilizing himself now as he too gripped the umbrella to stir them both through the storm.” Oh, believe me, I definitely would. But the bee would get a heart attack if we delay any further.” She only scoffed in return, though the line came with enough confidence to pass for annoyance rather than actual concern.
“You think you can just dance around me!?” Candy Man snarled in utter anger, his voice raw with panic and fury.”You damned heroes always do that–prancing in, pretending you’re so much better than me!”
Scarlet Luck even had to take a double-take at that, simply rolling her eyes; it might as well have counted as a counter manoeuvre.
Chat Noir made a sound suspiciously close to a laugh as he pivoted with her, the two of them moving in perfect tandem while the storm came down around them like the sky itself had developed a sugar addiction. A peppermint spear managed to tear past the heroine’s shoulder, but Chat’s baton snapped up before she even had to flinch, knocking it aside with a clean metallic crack. Another wave of caramel surged towards him from the left; angle the umbrella just enough to curve the current into the side of a candy-coated wall where it burst into a sticky, steaming mess.
They moved like they’d rehearsed this a hundred times.
Which, unfortunately, they more or less already had.
Two years of fighting side by side truly did strange things to people.
Carapace watched the fierce battle raging inside the storm, gritting his teeth in frustration, knowing he couldn't help but watch from the outside, focused on stabilizing the dome to remain standing amidst the harshness of his attacks. Such frustrations extended to Rena who she stood beside him, worry etched on her masked face as they could do nothing but hope for the best.
“Why won’t you insignificant pests just give up already!” Candy Man seethed as he frantically moved his arms, the harsh gusts following along his own volition.
“Yeesh, you really ARE committed to this whole sugar rush thing,” Scarlet Luck grimaced in return, barely dodging attacking gummy bears.
“This is not a mere tantrum!” Candy Man screamed, his entire arm shaking violently now as another burst of unstable sugar rush erupted around him. ”You bottom feeding gluttons have no idea what I’ve lost!”
Oh, that really got him this time.
Even as the storm further buckled for the worst. For a second, just a second, something flickered across Chat Noir’s face. Not entirely sympathetic, after all–he did cause utter destruction to Paris. Understanding, perhaps. Hawkmoth always found people close to their breaking point and shattered them further down.
The same ugly pattern Hawkmoth always exploited.
“Focus.” Scarlet Luck suddenly spoke up amidst his conflicting thoughts, quickly turning his head to only see her looking back at him.
Right.
They didn’t have the luxury of slowing down, not now.
Unfortunately, that small mistake cost them greatly–twisting licorice wrapped around them like a binding rope as Candy Man maniacally laughed. ”I finally caught you!” His laugh echoed unnaturally loud inside the Shell-ter, shrill and uneven, the kind of sound that bordered too closely on panic to feel victorious. He’d tugged on the sweetened licorice, further tightening it around both heroes with every frantic jerk of his trembling hand, sticky enough to resist their movement yet strong enough to drag them both forward.
“Oh, fantastic,” Scarlet patronized, her expression flattening into something deeply unimpressed despite the circumstances.
“You know,” Chat mused to her, tugging experimentally against the licorice before immediately regretting it when it tightened harder around him. Drat. ”I usually prefer dinner before being tied up.”
Scarlet slowly turned her head to give him an unimpressed look.
“What?” He shrugged as much as the restraints allowed, ”I like taking it slow.”
“We are actively being strangled by candy,” further pointed out their current situation.
“Technically licorice.” He’d corrected matter-of-factly.
“Stop talking!” Candy Man’s expression twitched violently. “You’ve lost! I’ve captured you! And yet you two are still bickering like complete idiots, as if that’s more important than potentially losing to ME!”
Scarlet Luck finally turned her head to look up at Candy Man, a knowing smile etched on her face.
“Are you sure you’ve captured all of us?”
Honeybee adjusted her grip on her spinning top and carefully manoeuvred behind another collapsing wall of candy while Scarlet and Chat continued drawing Candy Man’s attention, exactly as planned.
The villain’s blood curdled at her words, the realization slowly starting to dawn on him.
“Venom!” Honeybee snuck up behind him with quick precision, hitting his back with her stinger before he could even retaliate. The heroine soon tugged on the licorice to break them both free.
“Nice work, bee!” Chat Noir grinned, sharp and bright in the middle of catastrophe as dark energy crackled violently around his gloved hand, already readying his cataclysm.
Candy Man’s eyes widened as he struggled against the paralysis. ”N-no!” It was already too late; the hero had lunged with all his might, his destructive hand now aimed at the villain’s akuma.
“Cataclysm!”
Scarlet moved quickly when the akuma flew out of the broken object, trying to flee as aimed her yoyo to capture it in her hands. ”Not so fast,” huffed, not letting it escape at all as purified it–the pure white butterfly disappeared off into the distance, and so did the Candyman’s victory along with it.
The dome finally cracked under the pressure, a sound like brittle glass finally cracking. Without Candy Man’s control anchoring the wuthering storm, it no longer surged like he wanted. It collapsed, folding in on itself in chaotic spirals of dissolving sugar.
Candy Man fully dropped to his knees this time, no longer screaming, no longer fighting, no longer resembling the man who once dreamed of a Candy Paradise. His body shook instead, finally remembering what exhaustion felt like when he wasn’t under the akuma’s effects.
Scarlet, however, didn’t spare any time as she moved instantly. Jumping up the crumbling ground as her hand snapped upward, catching the falling umbrella mid-descent, her fingers carefully locking around the handle with practiced precision.
For a brief second, everything stilled.
Then she swung the umbrella hard, arcing it upwards like a thrown verdict.
“Purify!”
The transformation burst outward in a radiant wave. The polka-dotted umbrella dissolved midair into a swarm of pure white butterflies, scattering across the sky like fragments of a rewritten reality. Pouring through the fractured remains of candy-coated destruction, through every cracked rooftop and melted walls, the once sickenly sweetened Paris transformed in a blink.
Gingerbread rooftops straightened back into steel and brick, candy streets reformed into familiar asphalt, sugar now returned to stone, and chocolate became water. The grotesque sweetness vanished without a trace, leaving only the city to finally exhale a sigh of relief as if it was finally awoken from a fever dream.
When Scarlet Luck finally landed back on stable ground, her boots hit the rooftop with a controlled thud, knees bending just enough to absorb the impact before she straightened once again. Silence settled in the aftermath, the kind that always followed chaos like this.
She glances over to Honeybee, attending to the shaken Candy Man, now back to a normal human. He was being comforted by the sweet heroine as Carapace and Rena Rouge handled the press that quickly flooded them for answers once the coast was clear.
Then her gaze shifted,
To Chat Noir, who stood a few steps away, brushing sugar dust off his gloves like the entire event had been a mildly inconvenient afternoon appointment. When their eyes met, he didn’t say anything immediately. When he noticed her staring, however? He gave her a small nod, already offering his hand for their usual fist bump.
“Good work,” Chat said finally, his voice lighter now that the world wasn’t actively trying to melt them anymore.
“Oh, I try.” She arrogantly huffed, flipping a strand of hair framing her face over her shoulder with exaggerated arrogance.
Chat Noir only stared at her for half a second, soon exhaling through his nose. Touché.
Rena Rouge finally had the chance to exhale, shoulders dropping as the tension drained from her body. ”Well,” She started dryly, having finished the interview with the pained Carapace beside her. ”That was horrifying.”
Carapace let out a low growl, lowering his shield with the dramatic exhaustion of a man who had just spent far too long being the city’s last line of defense against homing desserts. ”I’m never eating licorice again.”
“You say that now,” Honeybee touched down a few steps away after escorting the shaken Candy Man away, folding her spinning top back into a ready position out of pure habit before she looked at the others. ”But in, like, two days you’ll absolutely get stressed and buy gummy bears.”
Carapace winced as if her words shot him like an arrow, bullseye. ”That is slander!”
“It is divine forecasting–or you’re just really predictable, Carapace.” Honeybee huffed knowingly.
”Preach it, sister,” Rena giggled, liking this girl already.
“Don’t call it sisterhood when you’re both literally ganging up on me!” Carapace complained as both girls only ignored his agony.
Across from them, Chat Noir had a small smile on his face, as though he had personally approved the recovery of an entire district and was reading the mood of the team. For a quiet moment, they could all finally relax in blissful silence just to recollect themselves.
But the first beep cut through the calm like a needle.
Then another.
And another.
One by one, the others’ miraculouses began to chirp with that familiar frantic insistence. Sharp little beeps cut through the softened air like an alarm clock set by an impatient parent.
“Oh, come on, already?” Carapace looked down at the beeping miraculous laced around his wrist.
Rena Rouge checked hers with a sigh, through the corner of her mouth still lifted from the victory. ”Yep, that’s our cue.”
“We should probably get moving before we all de-transform right here on some rooftop out in the open; it’d be catastrophic,” Honeybee’s expression shifted instantly into something a little more serious than the previous two, who both looked like they were on a time-out.
Scarlet smugly grinned at the three of them, not-so-subtly flexing her still very much transformed state as she wasn’t in a hurry, ”Well, if the universe is done being dramatic, I suppose we should all take our leave.”
Carapace rolled his shoulders, then offered them both a rooked nod that was equal parts respect and exhaustion. ”Good work back there,” after fist bumping Chat Noir, he jumped off, taking his leave.
Rena smiled, small and warm beneath the mask, ”For once, I agree.”
“Try not to start another argument while we’re gone, you two,” Honeybee looked exasperated, simply shaking her head as she stood with Rena.
“That implies we need you present to do that,” Scarlet Luck only pointed out.
“Exactly, good night, you two,” Then, leaving with Honeybee, she was gone too.
And soon, it was only the two of them left standing on the rooftop.
Scarlet Luck and Chat Noir.
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. Not really. It had never been, not when they usually started arguing the second they’re in close radius of each other. But right now? They were both content with the silence settling between them.
Below them, Paris looked calm enough to fool anyone who hadn’t spent the last several minutes trying not to be murdered by sentient candy. The rooftops around them had returned to their proper shape, the streets below glistened with rain, and somewhere in the distance, a few people were beginning to come back out into the city like nothing had happened at all.
Scarlet stood with her arms still folded, gaze fixed somewhere beyond the skyline. Her posture finally uncoiling from the adrenaline, she was still breathing hard, calming the nerves she sustained after that fight as she dared a glance towards Chat Noir. The black cat stepped to the edge of the roof and looked out over Paris, the wind tugging slightly at his hair. For once, he didn’t have anything witty to say, and neither did she.
Scarlet Luck noticed.
How could she not notice?
It was unfortunate, because now that she was paying attention, she could tell the way his posture shifted. The battle was long gone from his shoulders, but not the quiet aftermath to it. That faraway look, something she couldn’t decipher after Christmas. The one he got when he finally had a breather, to catch a break, to rest his already pushed too hard body.
Scarlet soon realized what she was doing, looking away first. She refused, on principle, to stare at a boy who had just spent the last hour being infuriatingly useful.
“...You haven’t left yet?” She quietly huffed, pointedly avoiding his gaze as her words seemed to snap him out of his thoughts.
“Nah, wanted to just…take a breather before everything,” he already made himself at home, sitting on the edge as he swung his legs.
“Funny. Last I checked, you were itching to go back to your little civilian life back then,” Scarlet Luck only grinned, ignoring the glare he sent her way as she sat down beside him.
“Oh, spare me the disdain, bug. Why are you still here?” He rolled his eyes, pointedly staring at her as that seemed to make her flinch.
For once, she was utterly speechless.
She had to mentally slap herself, focus!
“I-I’m just wary of you possibly doing something stupid like last time, and obviously that’ll only make it easier for that damned moth. So, be grateful I’m even gracing you with my presence and protection,” the shame was nowhere to be found as she confidently retorted, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger with a dignified tut of her chin.
Chat Noir stared at her shamelessness, ”Really appreciate it, Scar. But I think I’d possibly get a headache arguing with you again,” she looked at him with utter betrayal after that.
“Rude. You’re the one who always starts them!”
“I beg to differ.”
“You’re begging for a fight right now,” Scarlet scowled as Chatton hummed in amusement, long used to battling words with her. He shifted, quiet now in the way he only ever got when he was comfortable,
“It’s a miracle I’ve put up with you for almost two years.”
“Excuse me? Who’s the one that repeatedly saved your butt?”
“Most of the time, you had to save me from yourself,” He said with a raised brow, watching her cheeks colored pink.
“Well, most of the time, I still went out of my way to save you as a heroine should.”
“Mhm, sure.”
Scarlet Luck only twitched her eye as she looked up at the night sky, not wanting to argue all night when they finally had a rare moment to themselves.
The heroine eventually relented, sitting on the ledge alongside him as she hugged her knees, a rare and conflicted look on her masked face, pointedly avoiding his own cat-like gaze.
“What’s wrong?” Her silence actually made him turn to glance at her, and she was a bit startled that he bothered to ask as she eventually caved, “It’s just, when everything started…it was just you and me trying to survive each other.”
“Mm.”
“Then Rena joined.”
“Mm.”
“Then Carapace.”
“Mm.”
“And finally, Honeybee.”
“Mm.”
“You have a very conversational personality, are you even listening!?” Scarlet finally snapped, turning to glare at him. The hero however? Only dignified her with a mere shrug.
“I’m listening,” he didn’t really sound convincing when he would rather count the stars in the sky. ”Sure you are.” The heroine scowled in return, now turning away with an indignant huff.
Their first days as a duo felt impossibly distant now. Scarlet had been sharper then, less willing to trust, to compromise, and more than willing to bite anyone who tried to stand too close to her. Chat had been all easy smiles and relentless patience, which had annoyed her almost immediately and, in hindsight, probably saved them both half a dozen times over. They had been incompatible in exactly the right way: her precision against his improvisation, her impatience against his steadiness, her refusal to yield against his refusal to let go.
And somewhere in the middle of all that friction, they’ve somehow managed an understanding between them both.
Then came the others. A larger group. More voices. More chaos. More people are learning, in real time, how to operate around Scarlet’s temper and Chat’s absurdity. More people had to discover that the pair of them could bicker during a crisis and still somehow end it standing.
“Are you anxious?” Chat managed to take her by surprise, raising his brow at her.
“What could I possibly be anxious about?” Scarlet’s reply came almost immediately, far too quickly to be convincing, and she said it with the kind of offended loftiness that suggested the mere concept of nerves had personally insulted her. She folded her arms tighter across her chest and lifted her chin as if that alone could force the night sky, the rooftops, and apparently Chat Noir himself to respect her dignity.
“Mm.” He said again, and Scarlet’s eye twitched.
“Ugh, you’re the one who asked, and now you won’t answer?”
“You answered my question with another question.”
“I swear to the heavens above, Chat, I’m personally kicking you off this roof.”
“That would be counterproductive given your apparent mission of protecting me.”
Scarlet opened her mouth to retort, utterly furious; she could only glare at him harder. As if the sheer force of indignation could correct this entire situation in her favor. While Chat Noir only grinned triumphantly, that annoying grin that knew he had already won.
She debated for a moment, seriously mulling it over as before eventually relenting, turning her head away to avoid his expectant gaze, ”I’m just saying it’s weird.”
“Weird? How?”
Scarlet exhaled sharply through her nose and forced the rest of it out in one irritated rush.”It’s just strange. It’s just…It used to be us, us against everything Hawkmoth ever threw at us and now somehow there’s a whole team. Rena, Carapace, Honeybee. And they actually listen, work together, and now it isn’t just us anymore. We’re the center of something bigger,” quietly admitted, staring out into the sky as if it held all the answers.
For once, Chat Noir didn’t answer with his usual quips. ”...Master Fu probably knew that would happen.”
Scarlet gave a tiny skeptical hum in return. ”Of course he did. He always seemed to know everything before it even happened. Oh, hi, I’m dumping all of these new superheroes on you two and hope for the best!”
“Master Fu has big plans for us, huh?” Chat Noir only grinned in return.
“Ugh, I can’t possibly comprehend how that old man thinks. Don’t you feel weird adjusting to all of this…?!”
Oh, she immediately regretted asking. Now, he was looking at her with that annoyingly patient expression he only pulled out when he thought she was being difficult on purpose.
Which was, frankly, rude!
“Personally, I don’t mind,” Chat Noir tilted his head slightly at that, having to double-check what he just heard as the grin on his face slightly faltered, “Hawkmoth’s been getting stronger the more we face him. If we’re going to keep protecting Paris…” he shrugged one shoulder. “I’m glad we’re not doing it alone anymore.”
“...Ugh.” And with that, she threw both hands into the air before pushing herself to her feet in one dramatic motion; her patience all but dried up. “You don't get it at all!” She began pacing across the rooftop, arms folded tightly across her chest as she muttered curses that involved herself, and of course, him.
Chat Noir stayed quiet for a long moment, looking up at her with an expression that held far more understanding than she was prepared to deal with. Even after two years, she was still impossible to read when she was like this: furious, defensive, and very obviously hiding behind her thorny words.
“Scar,” Oh God, she hated when he called her that.
He finally stood up as well, brushing the dust from his suit. His expression had softened into something unusually thoughtful, almost nostalgic, “Even if Master Fu recruited the entire city to defeat Hawkmoth…” he trailed off, glancing towards the Paris skyline, the night sky glittering faintly beyond them.
“Paris will only ever have one Scarlet Luck,” he’d finished off, finally gazing back at her with that stupid grin on his face.
Chloé—no, Scarlet Luck blinked in utter surprise.
She had not expected that kind of reassurance from the usually sharp-tongued hero, not when he spent so much of his time making it his personal mission to annoy her. She couldn’t quite ignore the quickening of her heartbeat, and she even had to check herself for a moment as if her own temperature had betrayed her.
Oh no.
He was a danger to her mental health.
But t-that’s just impossible! Of all the people I should have thought about it just had to be–
“Which is a good thing, since dealing with a whole city full of Scarlet Lucks would be my absolute nightmare. I already have my hands full with just one of you,” Chat Noir continued with an oblivious and carefree smile, blissfully unaware that he had completely derailed whatever emotional revelation Scarlet had been teetering on. If anything, he looked rather pleased with himself, as though he had just delivered the greatest joke of the century.
Scarlet’s eye twitched.
As he clapped himself on the back, the heroine stood there seething in silence. Completely ignorant of the danger he had just wandered into, Chat carried on with his little tirade, gesturing animatedly with both hands, “I mean seriously, they spend more time arguing with each other than fighting akumas.”
He paused, only long enough to grin at the mental image.”
Oh no.
“They would probably start arguing over who gets the best angle for the cameras. You’d have six Scarlets insisting their left side is–YOWCH!”
He jerked back when she elbowed him hard, clutching his poor side. Okay, yeah…maybe he deserved that one.
Scarlet shoved herself upright with all the grace of someone refusing to look affected by anything he had just said. “You are unbearable,” she muttered, smoothing down the front of her suit as if that alone could restore the dignity she had lost this entire night.
“I try,” Chat, still rubbing his side where she had elbowed him, let out a low, amused breath. At his response, she narrowed her eyes at him.
“You are one comment away from going off this roof,” She warned, her eyes narrowing.
“I hear the landing’s terrible from this height.”
“It’ll get worse if I have anything to do with it,” despite such a threat, Chat laughed beneath his breath.
With an exasperated huff, Scarlet stepped off the ledge and landed lightly on the next rooftop below. The cool night breeze tugged gently at the loose strands of her hair as she looked out across Paris, the city glowing peacefully beneath them once more. For a brief moment, she allowed herself a small smile before it disappeared beneath her usual arrogance.
“Well?” Glancing back over her shoulder, she called, “You coming or not?”
Now Chat Noir was the one that blinked in surprise.
She wasn’t arguing back, she wasn’t making it worse, she wasn’t even trying to win the little spat. For perhaps the first time all evening, she simply moved on.
Huh.
Maybe she had changed a little too.
“Come on, cat,” Scarlet repeated, already turning back towards the rooftops ahead, ”We’ve still got time for one more patrol.”
Chat gave an exaggerated bow before twirling his baton onto his shoulder, earning an eyeroll from her as he landed to stand by her side.
“As the lady wishes.”
“Spots off.”
By the time Chloé finally made it back to Le Grand Paris, the building was asleep in the way only luxury hotels could be; quiet, polished, and just a little too grand for anyone who actually lived inside it. The chandeliers in the lobby still glowed softly overhead, casting warm light over the marble floor and the immaculate front desk, but the usual bustle of staff and guests had long since faded into the sort of hush that made every click of her shoes sound far more important than it had any right to be.
Naturally, that was exactly how she preferred it.
She swept through the entrance with her chin lifted, her bag slung over one shoulder, and the last remnants of Scarlet Luck’s sharp-edged confidence still clinging to her like perfume. If anyone had looked closely, they might have noticed the way she was holding herself a little too rigidly, or the way her fingers tightened once around the strap of her bag before she forced them to relax. Fortunately, the lobby was empty enough to spare her the humiliation of being read too easily.
“Mademoiselle,” he called. She flinched, quickly turning around to only see Armand greeting her, rising politely from the chair he apparently fell asleep in while waiting for her return.
Chloé gave the barest nod in return, leave it to Jean-or-John-or-whatever-his-name-was to lose sleep over her antics, “I know, I’m home. I told you to not wait for me like this,” He still didn’t seem convinced when he merely shook his head.
“Nonsense, Mademoiselle. I'll always wait until you've returned safely. Besides, your father has been getting restless lately,” the ever so loyal butler worried as he motioned over to the heavy footsteps against the elegant tiles of the hotel.
Chloé had to pause from that, “He’s still not asleep? He didn’t know I was out late, right?” It wouldn’t do her any good if her father ever caught wind of her late night patrols, especially when she couldn’t just reveal she was Scarlet Luck, after all.
“Unfortunately, one phone call from… Mademoiselle Audrey completely derailed everything else and now he’s attempting to bury it all away under work,” Armand regrettably informed, lowering his head as though silently praying for the mayor’s sanity.
"That's what divorce does to a person," she clicked her tongue, turning away before Armand could study her expression for too longs "...He'll work himself unconscious eventually." With that, she turned away, eager to end the conversation before Armand could notice anything else. She had barely taken two steps when—
"Wait, Mademoiselle," he called, stopping her in her tracks, “The mayor sent something to your room,” great, totally urgent stuff right there.
“Doesn’t he know I have enough jewelry to buy the Louvre at this point–”
“Mademoiselle, it’s a blazer,” Armand merely corrected, with the weary patience of a butler long used to her charge’s antics, “For tomorrow, the tailors finally finished your uniform.”
“...Tomorrow?” she quizzically blinked, turning back at last, just enough to look properly at him.
The butler merely smiled in turn, a careful smile, “Your first day at the lycée.”
Of-fucking-course. She totally needed the reminding, totally because she had absolutely not thought about it every ten minutes for the last three days ever since her acceptance. She certainly was not the kind of person who got nervous.
Chloé folded her arms with a huff, “I know what tomorrow is.”
Armand only gave her a dry look in return, why did she ask in the first place then?
Shaking himself out of his improper thoughts, his good-natured 5 star employee smile returned, “That’ll be all then, mademoiselle. Good night.”
“...Good night,” she made her way toward the elevators.
She stared at her reflection in the polished metal of the elevator wall for a second, then let out a long, irritated breath that was suspiciously close to a laugh.
As soon as she reached her room, she kicked the door shut behind her and dropped her bag onto the chair by the window. The room was exactly as she had left it: too elegant, too spacious, and far too tidy to be considered comforting. Her lycée uniform was already hanging on the back of the chair where the maid had placed it earlier, pressed perfectly flat and waiting for her like an accusation.
Chloé glared at it.
The uniform glared back.
She made a noise of disgust and flopped onto the edge of her bed, then immediately sat back up again when she realized lying down would make her feel dramatically worse about everything.
Collège Françoise Dupont had been comfortable. Familiar. A neighborhood school where almost everyone had grown up together, where friendships had already formed before anyone knew what popularity really meant, and where Chloé had spent years cementing herself as the undisputed queen of the social hierarchy, for better or, more often, worse–until life had a rather unpleasant habit of reminding her that popularity built on fear wasn't popularity at all.
Lycée Dupont was nothing like that.
The school was only a few streets from the old collège, but that was where the resemblance ended. It stood behind tall iron gates in one of Paris’s wealthier districts, all pale stone and immaculate glass, with wide courtyards lined by trimmed hedges and polished paths that reflected the city lights at night. Its academic wings were connected by sleek walkways and modern galleries, making the campus feel less like a school and more like a private institution designed to remind people they were lucky to get inside.
Which, for the children who attended it, was usually true.
Lycée Dupont was the kind of place where old money and new money passed each other in the halls and pretended not to care who had more of either. The student body came from the sort of families that were known in Parisian society, if not always loudly then certainly expensively: politicians’ children, business heirs, embassy kids, fashion names, old aristocratic lines that still clung to their relevance, and the kind of polished, snobby rich teenagers who had been raised to believe their futures were already arranged for them in neat little columns.
It was the sort of school where a watch could cost more than a month’s rent, where people wore tailored uniforms as if they were a personal insult to fashion, and where social rank was judged with the same seriousness as grades. Everyone had a reputation before they even spoke. Everyone had parents with opinions, careers, expectations, and enough influence to make the hallways feel like a society column with better lighting.
In other words, it was the perfect breeding ground for snobbery.
Chloé knew snobbery.
She practically had a doctorate in it.
And yet, for the first time in a long while, the thought of walking into a room where everyone expected her to be impressive did not feel entirely comforting. It felt like pressure wearing perfume.
Two years ago, Chloé would’ve been excited. A school filled with wealthy families like hers? A willing audience? She would’ve treated it like her personal coronation. Now though? After everything she’s been through?
It felt less like a gold-plated throne, and more like a stage.
And for the first time in her life, she wasn't entirely sure the applause would come.
“Tomorrow is going to be an absolute social catastrophe,” she declared to the room.
A tiny voice answered from somewhere near her pillow.
“It will only be horrible if you keep announcing that it is horrible.”
Chloé turned her head.
Tikki was floating there with her usual tiny, unimpressed expression, though over the last two years the sharpness of her criticism had mellowed in strange, reluctant ways that Chloé would never, ever describe as fondness. The kwami was still critical, still observant, still entirely capable of making Chloé feel like a badly behaved child with one perfectly timed remark. But now there was a patience to it too, as if two years of surviving Chloé Bourgeois had forced even a magical being to develop emotional stamina.
Chloé folded her arms, “You were supposed to be on my side.”
“I am on your side.”
“Yeah, like I totally needed a very subtle lecture.”
“It was a lecture.”
Chloé groaned and dropped backward onto the bed with one arm over her eyes, “This is exactly the kind of betrayal I expected from you.”
The silence settled comfortably between them, no longer awkward in the way it might have been two years ago. Outside, Paris glittered in the dark, the city calm now in the way only a city that had been nearly destroyed and then repaired by teenagers could be calm. Somewhere far below, traffic passed in soft ribbons of sound. Somewhere else, probably on another rooftop entirely, a certain black cat was likely still talking too much to the night sky.
Chloé hated that thought.
Unfortunately, she hated how much the thought settled her nerves.
Tikki watched her for a minute before speaking again, a little softer this time. “Tomorrow doesn’t have to be perfect. First days rarely go the way we imagine they will.”
Chloé opened her mouth, ready with the usual denial, but the words caught somewhere behind her teeth. Because she was worried. Not about the school itself, not really. She had survived worse than classrooms and awkward introductions and people who still remembered the old version of her. What unsettled her was the fact that this was lycée now. Bigger. Older. Realer. And Adrien would be there, too, which was either reassuring or catastrophically inconvenient depending on the exact direction of her thoughts at any given moment.
She would absolutely not be thinking about that now.
No.
Not at all.
“Everyone will be looking at me,” she muttered at last, as though that were a complaint and not a confession, “They should be.”
Tikki’s expression shifted into one of those maddening little looks that somehow managed to be both critical and affectionate, “And if they’re not?”
Chloé stiffened slightly.
That, of course, was the problem.
Not being noticed.
Being noticed, and still not being enough.
She swallowed, then forced herself to sit up, back straightening out of pure habit as though posture could solve emotional vulnerability, “Then I make them notice.”
Tikki’s tiny smile was infuriatingly gentle. “That sounds more like you.”
Chloé lifted her chin and gestured toward the uniform with all the dignity of a queen preparing for battle, “Of course it does. I am going to make the best first impression this lycée has ever seen.”
“Of course it does.”
Chloé reached for the blazer, smoothing the fabric with exaggerated care as if that alone could prepare her for tomorrow, “I am going to walk into Lycée Dupont like I own the place.”
But even as Chloé said it, she was already hanging the blazer more carefully, smoothing the fabric down with an exaggerated elegance that was absolutely, definitely not nervousness. Tomorrow, she would walk into Lycée Dupont like she owned the place. Tomorrow, she would act like nothing could shake her. Tomorrow, she would be the best version of herself: polished, poised, impossible to ignore–
Well.
She hung the blazer neatly against the wardrobe door, smoothing an invisible wrinkle that wasn't there.
That was a problem for tomorrow.
Tonight, she had a skincare routine to survive, a reputation to rebuild, and an entire lycée to conquer.
The streets of Paris had long since settled into silence.
Only the occasional passing car disturbed the quiet, its headlights briefly washing over the old storefront tucked between newer buildings before disappearing into the night once more. Somewhere in the distance, the Seine reflected ribbons of moonlight across its surface, while the city itself rested peacefully, blissfully unaware of just how close it had come to becoming little more than another casualty of Hawkmoth's endless obsession.
Inside the modest massage shop, the familiar scent of steeping tea leaves and sandalwood drifted lazily through the room. A small kettle continued to whistle softly atop the stove, while the old television hummed forgotten in the corner, playing some late-night program that Master Fu had long since stopped paying attention to. The gentle crackle of boiling water and the rhythmic ticking of the old clock on the wall were the only sounds keeping the elderly Guardian company.
Wayzz floated quietly nearby, content to simply watch over the guardian.
Master Fu, meanwhile, carefully arranged five porcelain teacups across the low wooden table before him.
Five.
No longer just two.
His weathered hands lingered against the worn grain of the wood for a moment longer than necessary, his thumb absentmindedly tracing the countless scratches left behind by years of quiet conversations, patient lessons, and children who never quite remembered to lift their cups properly.
There had once only been two cups.
One cup had belonged to an impossibly stubborn little girl who had marched into his shop demanding answers before she had even introduced herself properly.
The second had belonged to an unfailingly polite boy who smiled far too easily for someone carrying burdens no child should ever have been asked to bear.
Now there were five.
Five children.
Five miraculous holders.
Master Fu smiled faintly to himself.
"They're beginning to rely on one another," he’d knowingly smiled, looking over to the turtle kwami who merely tilted its little head, "And on you."
The old Guardian let out a quiet chuckle, gently pouring tea into the last empty cup.
"I only showed them the path."
His gaze settled on the untouched cups for a long moment.
"They are the ones choosing to walk it together."
The smile on his face lingered...Though only briefly. It slowly faded as his eyes drifted toward the darkened window overlooking Paris.
"Hawkmoth has lost another battle tonight."
His grip around the teacup tightened ever so slightly.
"...He will not accept that quietly."
The room fell silent once more, save for the gentle whistle of the kettle.
Master Fu closed his eyes for a brief moment before taking another sip of tea.
"...Tomorrow will be the beginning of something far greater than any of them.