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Ladybug landed on the dark rooftop, gaze riveted on the lone figure standing at its furthest edge, silhouetted against the starry night sky.
Chat Noir stood there, overlooking the city. He leaned forward, chin resting on his extended baton, his keen green eyes scanning the streets below.
The stance was casual, but the way his tail lashed and his ears flattened against his head when he heard her approach told a different story.
“Chat. Where were you? Patrol started an hour ago,” Ladybug said, irritated.
“Don’t call me that.”
Ladybug paused, foot still in the air. Chat Noir’s shoulders tensed as she took a step closer.
“What?”
Chat Noir turned to look at her. Green, inhuman eyes glowed in the darkness.
“I said, don’t call me that. Chat Noir…well, Chat Noir has decided it’s time for a change.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Have you ever heard of the legend of the matagot?” Chat retracted his staff and hopped up on to the edge of the roof, pacing. “They’re spirits that, allegedly, haunt southern France. They’ve been known to take many forms, but most especially that of—” his fangs flashed in the darkness, bared in a sharp imitation of a smile—“Black cats.”
“Okay. And why is this important?” Ladybug snapped, impatient. She didn’t know why her partner was acting so weird, but he was wasting time.
“Shh, Ladybug. This isn’t the part where you get to talk,” he said, leaning forward and putting a finger to his lips. Then, while Ladybug gaped in speechless indignation, he continued.
“They were generally thought to be evil spirits.”
Chat Noir turned away from her and looked out, up at the night sky, clasping his hands behind his back.
“But, rumor had it, they could bring wealth into a household if they were well-fed. Take good care of them, and they might be useful.”
Chat Noir laughed. A chill ran down Ladybug’s spine. That laugh…wasn’t like Chat Noir’s usual gleeful cackle.
This was hard, and bitter, and sharp.
“Or not. Don’t take care of them. Feed them nothing but scraps, and they’ll still be useful. Won’t they? Because that’s what they always are. They don’t question, they just help. Right?”
He turned around to face Ladybug. His smile was wide and sarcastic, but his eyes were empty.
“But what happens when the matagot finally gets hungry? When the scraps are no longer enough?” he paused. “Aren’t you curious to know?”
Ladybug found her voice.
“Chat, you’re scaring me. What is the matter with you?”
Chat Noir dropped his smile. The catlike slits of his eyes narrowed, focusing on her.
“I spoke with Nathalie today. She told me something very interesting.”
The air left Ladybug’s lungs. Surely Nathalie hadn’t…she’d thought she’d convinced her not to tell Adrien!
“Oh?” she said, keeping her voice deceptively light. Meanwhile, her brain was running overtime, scrambling, trying to find a way out of this conversation. Trying to come up with contingencies to spin whatever Nathalie had said into something less harmful.
“Scraps.” Chat Noir hissed the word. “You know, Ladybug, that’s a word that keeps coming into my head. Scraps of information. Scraps of love. Scraps of trust. Scarps, scraps, scrapssss. So little. For so long.”
Chat Noir tilted his head, gazing at her. His eyes hardened.
“I am sick and tired of you keeping things from me, Ladybug. I am sick and tired of you lying to me.”
“I would never—”
“Drop it, Ladybug. I know you lied. Nathalie doesn’t have much of a conscience anymore, but she does have some. And she told me everything.”
His voice dropped to a growl.
“I know that Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth.”
Darn Natalie. Ladybug raised her hands placatingly. “You know Natalie hasn’t been well. She’s confused. This is probably just her mind acting up.”
Chat Noir studied his claws.
“Do you know what it does to a person, Ladybug? Chasing after scraps? Getting strung along, bit by bit. Thinking that maybe, someday, it will be enough. That maybe next time things will change. And you keep telling yourself that, as the next time becomes the next time becomes the next time becomes the next time until it finally pierces through your thick skull that things are never. Going. To change.”
His claws rasped together.
“I loved my father, you know that? I wanted him. I wanted to come back, so much. But he never did. He just pulled himself farther and farther away, no matter what I tried. And I think, towards the end, I was maybe starting to accept that. Not that it really matters, now, since he’s gone and I’ve apparently been fighting him this whole time. But you know what I don’t get? You know what I really, really don’t get?”
Chat Noir looked Ladybug dead in the eye.
“Why you, of all people, would lie to me about this. I thought you understood how important it is to have the truth. To have that context, that closure. But no.”
Ladybug flinched.
“After all that time my own father spent lying to me, I get it from you too. And it’s worse. I’ve come to expect it from him, but you and me? We’re supposed to be partners, Ladybug. But somehow, you always get the full meal while I get the scraps. I’m never in the loop. You act like you don’t need me, you keep secrets from me, you lie to me, and yet you still expect me to trust you. Just to accept that you know best and everything will be okay if I know literally nothing.”
“Because it IS better that way!” Ladybug burst out, begging for him to understand. “I didn’t want you to know because I didn’t want to hurt you!”
“WAKE UP, LADYBUG!!! I’M ALREADY HURTING!” Chat Noir screamed, throwing his hands up in the air.
Ladybug recoiled. Chat Noir yelled again.
“AND WHAT YOU ARE DOING IS ONLY MAKING IT WORSE! You don’t have the right to decide for me what I do or don’t know. You’re my partner, not some frickin’ keeper! Your job isn’t to shelter me from everything, it’s to stand by me when the storm does come!”
He looked at her, eyes wild, voice raw and ragged.
“I have been hungry. For so long. For some acknowledgement, some respect, some trust from you, and I have gotten nothing. And I am done.”
Chat paused for a moment, then in one vicious movement, he tore the bell from his collar. Ladybug jumped.
“Wait—Chat, what are you saying—”
“I told you.” His voice was cold. “Chat Noir’s gone. The kitty’s little bell is coming off. Matagots leave home when they don’t get fed.”
With one hand, Chat Noir cradled the bell to his chest in a gesture that was almost gentle. With the other, he raised his palm, clenching it into a fist, mouthing something.
The dark energy coalesced about his hand a moment later.
Ladybug’s eyes widened, and she took a step back. Chat Noir scoffed.
“That little faith in me, huh? Relax, I’m not gonna use it on you. It’s not like I’m actually an evil spirit. But just because I’m not gonna harm you doesn’t mean I still have to help you.”
He raised the bell, looking at it speculatively. His eyes were a maelstrom of emotion Ladybug found hard to decipher—regret, longing, resignation, disgust, sorrow, and a bitter amusement were all mixed up in in an ever-changing storm.
“I wanted a home, you know? Somewhere to belong.”
The bell jingled.
“Would’ve been nice if belonging had come with no strings attached, but hey. The world’s not fair, what else is new? Simple enough deal, really. I bring wealth, I get fed. I obey, I work, I study, I be the perfect son, I get loved. Except, I don’t.”
Chat Noir lifted a black-tinged finger, raising it above the bell. Ladybug stood stock still, wanting to reach out and stop him, but not daring to move.
“I fight by your side, I have your back, I give you my trust, and you do the same for me. Except, you don’t. Where’s my dues, Ladybug?”
Matagot looked her straight in the eye.
The bell crumbled into black dust.
“Deal’s off, Ladybug.”