Au Lieu De

by Yilena

The world around her changed. Rin wakes up to find she has a best friend she previously hated, and an arch nemesis with the face of her favourite person to mess with. AU.

AN: I'd suggest reading Avoir L'Air before this. Rin and Rien are the counterparts of Marinette and Adrien, so they're supposed to be the "bad" versions of themselves. When asked about Rin and Rien, I've replied that they're in a happy toxic relationship together, so this should show some of that and ease some of the fears about Chloé. The relationship described isn't nice. I couldn't bring myself to write anything sexual with them because of that, actually. Feel free to suggest prompts or stories via PM or tumblr (xiueryn).

Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Chat Noir © Thomas Astruc

There was an uncomfortable sensation in her throat, damp hair sticking to her face and feeling as though it was covering her as a second skin, and her lungs burned when she tried to breathe. There was a presence hovering above her—too close, too near—and loud noises that were distorted, not quite able to be made out. She heaved a pained breath, hacking, choking, before she expelled the contents of her stomach onto the tiled floor beside her.

Her body shook, and she hated the pain that ran through her as she tried to regain her breath. Vision was blurry, shaky, when she opened her pained eyes, trying to make sense of the situation.

It was then that she saw the faces around her; familiar, yet not, peering at her as though she was an endangered animal that was liable to injure itself. She stared defiantly back, furrowing her brows in muted confusion as her sight began to stabilise.

They were different—she was different.

Her swimsuit had changed, the black strands of her hair were shorter, the people standing around her—her class-mates that were invited for the outing—were twisted reflections of the ones that she was used to. Individuals that used to be anti-social or shy were easy going and happy, the ones that were muscular despite their ages or overweight were no longer.

They thought she was someone different. She remained quiet, fighting the after-effects of what seemed to be drowning (despite her protests of not entering the pool), and assessed the situation to the best of her abilities. Her parents didn't come running to pick her up, no; instead, once they'd returned to the school via coach, she was dazed and thrust outside when the time limit of the school being opened was over, left frazzled and panicked as she navigated the vaguely similar streets. Buildings were different, shops had changed, but the general outline was still there. When she arrived home—what a strange thing to say, she noted—it wasn't to the pleasantly familiar scents of baked goods.

Her parents were distant doctors, spending their hard-working hours at the hospital rather than in the bottom floor of their home, which had been converted into a pâtisserie where they'd previously dedicated their time. They weren't doting, they weren't openly loving—they were just gone. When she awoke, disorientated and expecting the sweet waft of pastries to reach her senses when she descended the stairs, it was to an empty home. They provided for her, yes, but not with the care and affection she'd taken for granted from her own parents. She longed for the light embraces that she used to shove off with a huff, proclaiming that she was too old for them.

Her bedroom, still the same room, was barely decorated. A few trinkets were placed on the desk, other than the studying equipment and supplies that indicated that her grades were high, rather than the mediocre that she was accustomed to, and the contents of her wardrobe was bland, casual and not what she was used to.

When she looked in the mirror she saw a familiar stranger. Her eyes were still a shade of blue she'd inherited from her father, the monolids from her mother were there with dark lashes to match her hair that was short, brushing against her collarbones with wisps upon her forehead that were cut sharply. Her body was the same shape (the adolescent hips, breasts that were still growing and the flat stomach), which was a relief. She hadn't had short hair since she was young since it caused many family friends to comment that she looked just like her mother, and she had searched for a sense of individuality as she was growing up.

Being confined to the house for the summer meant that she was alone, able to vent her frustrations through loud words and curses, perhaps cry if she felt it necessary, since there was no one there to criticise her. It seemed her counterpart—somehow, it really was her, just not her herself—didn't have the knack for make-up that she did, let alone the dislike for itchy fabric that most of the sweaters she owned possessed.

The break from her secluded routine came by the presence of a shy blonde-haired girl that appeared on her doorstep. She opened the door with cautious eyes, looking at the newcomer in distrust.

She knew of her, yes, except it was the other her. It turned out that this world's Chloé was a skittish, but kind, girl. She carefully walked through the doorway with familiarity, offered her a small smile and apologised for not coming sooner, then showered her with attention that was undeserved.

"Look," Rin started, backing away from the golden-haired female who was insisting she needed to eat breakfast. "I don't know what kind of relationship you think we have, but I can assure you I don't want it."

Her blue eyes—framed with lashes that matched her hair—widened in hurt and surprised. For a brief moment she felt guilty for causing it. Chloé had been the first contact she'd had since the day she'd been resuscitated, and she was pushing that away. The Chloé she knew, the one that popped into her mind every moment she saw those blue eyes, was an awful person that she considered someone fun to banter with, not lean onto for comfort. The blonde would've rather shoved her to the curb in indifference than offer her support.

It didn't seem to matter, though. Chloé had disappeared that day with tears in her eyes, words never leaving her quivering lips, and had returned later in the week with a woven basket that looked far too presentable to be on a whim. It was filled with different containers of food for her recovery, and she'd taken it with a disgruntled expression. Chloé didn't try to come inside, instead extending an offer for dinner at her house the following week per her parents request.

Well, it would be the first meal with parents of any sort. Her own had offered therapy if she needed the reassurance that she was alive and well, and left a phone number to contact a specialist if needed. As it turned out, there was a list left on the side for shopping to be ordered online, and she was allowed to order anything she wished, as long as it was written down.

It seemed her counterpart cared about impressing her—their—parents. Marinette (as it was revealed she preferred to be called, which meant she was ignored at first when she all but demanded to be called Rin), focused on her grades for a hobby and had limited friends. So far it was only Chloé that had ventured to her home, the girl also appearing in a few scattered photographs, and the phone numbers within her cell phone were limited.

There weren't many rules from what she could tell. Her parents weren't around to enforce a curfew, nor were they there to monitor her diet or habits. She could walk around the house in underwear without problems, and it was only after a few weeks that she realised that she'd taken the affection of her real parents for granted. The duo that she'd barely seen after waking up painfully in this world were fleeting, mocking versions of what they should've been—distorted images of ones that she had assumed to always be there with their annoying presences.

She accepted Chloé's invitation with confidence. Exploring the relationships surrounding her would help to make her understand where she was. And it was with that idea in mind that she used the blank wall, which had previously been covered in her own room, to pin her notes straight onto the wall. It was unlikely that any of her new parental figures would venture up into her room, and it appeared that rather than hiring a maid, it was Marinette that did the chores herself.

That was one of the other things she remedied. A well-written—her counterpart had the same writing as her, thankfully—letter left on the countertop for her parents requested help with the housework from her upcoming exams that she was determined to spend her time studying for.

Well, they didn't need to know that she wasn't all too interested in staring at a paper filled with useless questions for hours on end. As long as they believed that that was what she was doing, then it was bound to be okay. The only condition that she added in was the addition of cleaning her bedroom herself, so there was no need for the help to venture into her private space to see her plotting.

Chloé was shy with her still, yet open to revealing information about their class-mates when it became clear that it was requested for a reason. When Rin requested not to be called Marinette, it started a chain reaction of the blonde female staring at her blankly at a few moments before cracking a small smile, asking whether she'd finally given into the temptation of a nickname after all those years.

"Sure," Rin said, eyeing her strangely. "Spread the word to your disciples, will you?"

It took a few conversations, that lasted more than a two sentences, for her to realise just how different everything else was. She was disorientated when it became clear that Chloé was a reserved, trodden-on individual that was her counterpart's only friend.

Rin wasn't sure she had friends herself, now that she thought about it. She was quiet, gripping her hands together tightly, as she realised that she hadn't willingly spent time with others back in her own world. There was banter in the classrooms, sometimes filled with venom that the teachers told them off for, but she didn't hate anyone. Then again, she didn't particularly like anyone either. Rin had been a presence there for the classrooms, sometimes disrupting with sarcastic comments that weren't too appreciated despite her attempts to make others laugh.

Chloé was there to escort her to the blonde's home. She was talking quietly about her family—Chloé had decided that the fuzzy memory was due to the accident and gently hounded her to visit a doctor when she could, despite the fact that she lived with two that were capable of diagnosing her if necessary—and warned Rin about the awkward encounter that was sure to happen.

"I'm sorry for Rien in advance," the blonde murmured, tucking her golden strands of hair behind her ear. "I'm sure he'll behave around our parents, though."

Apparently she had a mortal enemy. It sounded trivial and childish, nothing to worry about despite Chloé's frazzled expression as they passed through the front door of her expensive-looking home. She was escorted into the living room that was decorating with paintings, cushions that were purely for décor, and a rug that looked as though no one was allowed to step upon it. They settled down on a couch, with Chloé shooting her what she assumed to be reassuring smiles and telling her that it wouldn't be too long until they were called to the dining room, and that they were allowed to watch television until it was time.

It was strange, she could admit that. Rin kept to herself, knowing that her scathing comments caused the blonde female beside her to retreat into herself and break off contact for a couple of days. Despite the daunting situation, it wouldn't be smart to annoy the only social contact she had during the holidays, even if it was in the form of a somewhat sweet, but wholly annoying, class-mate.

When a newcomer came in through the doorway, it took a moment for her to process just who she was seeing.

She caught sight of the blond hair, a few shades darker than her pseudo-friend, and laughter bubbled within her and spilled out when she saw the disgusted expression that appeared across his face.

It was the first time she'd laughed properly since waking up, she realised. Rin wiped at her warm eyes, cheeks beginning to hurt from smiling for so long during her fit of spontaneous laughter that had been borderline hysterical. Knowing that the two in the room were looking at her oddly, in what was sure to be worry, too, spurred on her guffaws. It took a few minutes for her to regain her breathing, looking at the befuddled male in a mixture of excitement and amazement.

Adrien looked the same physically. His eyes were the same shade of green that had people cooing over him, his hair reached the top of his ears in a fashion that was slightly more relaxed than usual. If it wasn't for the odd expression on his face, which she deciphered to be a mixture of loathing and pity, she would've believed she was back home.

He and Chloé were step-siblings in this world, apparently.

"Finally cracked, have you?" The slight curl of his upper lip, revealing those white teeth that hadn't changed, had her amused all the same. "I can't say I'm surprised. Maybe those fancy parents of yours will commit you to a psycho-ward."

Oh, it made sense. The mere fact that this world's Adrien—Rien, as he preferred—was outspoken, liked to tease and pick on her mercilessly, from what she gathered from Chloé's briefing, had the hysterical laughter threatening to build up once more. It was another feat of this world that had her baffled and amused all the same—almost everything, other than the basic details, were flipped and skewed, different from what she knew to be real.

The Adrien she knew was a shy boy that had transferred late into schooling, and she honestly enjoyed seeing him squirm in discomfort and irritation from her comments and actions.

This Rien liked the same from her counterpart. It was sick, twisted—hilarious. It was everything that a nightmare could be built around, and her disbelief from the situation clearly showed on her face because he smirked, the cocky expression one that she was wholly unfamiliar with.

All she could think was that it would be fun to rile up his counterpart, to push his buttons and see whether he'd react like the blond-haired male she knew.

"Stop, please, Rien," Chloé spoke quietly, a uncertain tone in her voice as her eyes darted between the two of them. "Haven't you done enough already?"

He tilted his head quizzically. "Oh, have I? I don't recall what you're talking about, sister."

It was a reminder of their relationship. Rin deduced that he was considered a golden child in their household, holding that over her head as though their parents would rather believe him than her.

"Yes," she continued softly, lower lip quivering as she raised her eyes, looking at him with a distressed expression. "You tried to drown her."

Oh.

Well, that was a shocking titbit that she hadn't been informed about. The nurse at the school, that had tried to counsel her and make sure she was okay before she was dismissed, and mentioned that it was a mishap at the pool, rather than an actual attempt of her life. She wouldn't have tried to drown any of her own class-mates—she wasn't vindictive enough to attempt murder, nor deal with the consequences of that, yet it seemed that Marinette had managed to cause enough hatred with her class-mate to have that happen to her.

What sort of weakling had she been? Did her counterpart not stand up for herself when it was needed? The thought of Rien—not the awkward home-schooled version that she was used to tripping over his own feet at times—needlessly bullying her other self caused feeling of anger to stir within her. It was... it was still her.

It was a reflection of what she had been; a nuisance in his life, one that prattled on with teasing and scathing comments that either offended him or got on his nerves, but she had never physically abused him. This had to be some sort of sick joke, or something, because coming into this world because of attempted murder wasn't something to blink at.

However, when he looked at her, she did blink on reflex.

"I think tried is the keyword there," he pointed out with a bland tone, looking at her as though she was a speck of dust. "It's not like there would be anyone to mourn her—other than you, of course."

Had she—was she that awful?

"Right," Rin interrupted, crossing her arms beneath her bosom. "At least I'd have one genuine friend there, while your ass is rotting in a juvenile detention centre where it belongs."

There was silence. Her counterpart mustn't have been one to speak out often. Was she as shy and reserved as Chloé?

Chloé was the one to reach out to her with a gentle hand, placing it on her shoulder while her expression grew concerned. "Are you feeling okay, Marinette?"

"Rin," the dark-haired female responded sharply, trying to reassert that she was different without having to spell it out. She was going to be the put down girl that they expected her to be; if anyone was expecting her to bare her throat, her most vulnerable parts from sheer cowardice, they were going to be surprised when she put up a fight. Clearing her throat, she looked at Rien in disdain. "Put another hand on me and I'll make you regret it."

To her surprise, he laughed.

The dinner was awkward, to say the least. Their parents—which she had never met in her own world, so she had no idea as to how they would've usually behaved—were formal, insisting on etiquette and manners despite the fact that over half the table was filled with teenagers. Rien behaved in front of his parental figures, Chloé shrunk into her seat and tried to avoid conversation as much as possible, which left a few questions being directed Rin's way, mostly asking whether she'd recovered from her accident on the school trip.

Rien's smirk was hidden behind his hand before he was told not to put his elbows on the table.

Rin was awkwardly polite, much as she'd been with the few times she'd seen her new versions of her parents, and was visibly relieved once the dinner was over. When she said she'd be fine to walk home alone, they denied her request, saying it was too dark for a girl to be out by herself, therefore they requested for their son to escort her home.

She couldn't hide the horrified expression—surely, if they knew their children at all, they knew that Rien wasn't too fond of her.

It was cold outside. Rin shivered, rubbing her arms and regretting the choice not to bring a jacket despite the poor choices. Rien had grabbed one on the way out, slipping his hands into the pockets and not looking at her as they walked out into the street.

"Walk until they can't see out of the window then piss off and leave me alone," she demanded, keeping her eyes on the passing cars in front of them. "I don't want to have to deal with you because you want to suck up to your parents."

A quiet whistle caught her attention. It sounded mocking, as though he was laughing at her. "I really fucked you up, eh?"

"Congratulations, you're an asshole," she said curtly. The knowledge that she'd gained from that single night was a lot to take in, and having to walk beside him for the journey home would only make her sour mood worse. His kind-hearted sister wasn't around to shield him from her irritation, and she doubted he expected her to retaliate at all. "If you so much as take a step closer to me, I will hurt you."

He laughed at that threat, too. "I'd like to see you try."

As it turned out, he did take a step closer to her. With the lamps lighting the area around them, vehicles creating noise as they soared past on the roads without sparing them a second glance, Rin curled her hands into fists from the intended threat of their close distance.

She wasn't going to be pathetic—she was not going to be Marinette.

With that in mind, there was a satisfying crack as she pulled her arm back, facing him with a furious expression as she allowed her fist to connect with his cheek. It had enough strength put into it to cause him to stumble back, gasping in surprise as he clutched at his face in a mixture of shock and incredulity.

Her own reaction was much the same. "Fuck!" Rin swore, cradling her aching hand against her chest from the sudden pain coursing through it.

She hadn't actually punched someone before (furniture at times, yes, but never something as hard as bone). With one last look at the blond, she was pleased to see the blood collecting by his nostril, confirming that she must've hit part of it in the process. The vindictive part of her though he deserved it, and perhaps more if she'd been capable of it, but it was the best she could do for the time being.

He was clutching his nose, blood staining his skin and falling onto his clothes, as he looked up at her with an angry expression.

"I'll do worse the next time," she hissed, well aware that her eyes had began to water from a mixture of the pain of her hand and the anger she was feeling. It had always been a fault of hers, that her irritation would connect with her tear ducts if she was angry enough. "Leave me the hell alone."

She didn't feel bad as she walked off.

-x-

Her contact through the rest of the holiday was restricted to the maid (who turned out to be a quiet middle-aged man that was purely polite and made sure to ask how her days had been whenever they saw each other), Chloé when she visited occasionally, and a few late dinners in the evening when her parents were present.

They encouraged her grades, saying they were glad to hear that she was doing well, and questioned which subjects she enjoyed. Although their conversation revolved around schoolwork, it was the closest she was going to get from a caring chat with the both of them, so she accepted it. They urged her to continue her education and choose which career she wanted for herself, with no pressure to follow in their footsteps.

She still had her heart set on becoming a make-up artist, even if she had to start from scratch due to the lack of equipment. As it turned out, while her parents were, indeed, absent, that didn't mean they weren't happy to buy her things. With a specific camera added to the shopping list, along with make-up brands that she knew to be her favourite, they didn't question the new additions. She didn't push her luck, however. Over the weeks she added different items, never going for more than three at once, and by the time that school was about to begin, she at least had the basics that she needed.

Rin dressed herself in the tightest jeans her counterpart owned, paired with long-sleeved shirt covered by the least scratchy-feeling sweater. The clothes she was provided were a drab lot, but she was going to make the best of it. She didn't have the lace-trimmed dresses, the swishy skirts that she'd grown fond of, and certainly not any shirts shorter than full-length. Everything was age appropriate and bland.

It was still strange to walk through the streets, to notice the differences with a blink of her eyes while she jotted them down within her cell phone, making notes to compare the changes on her wall later. The activity kept her sane; it reminded her of where she came from, and where she could possibly go back to at any moment.

It wasn't a dream, she knew that. There was pain, bundles of negative feelings that had her crying out in the lonely house she now knew as her home, and the slightly reassuring presence of her somewhat friend, Chloé.

The blonde-haired female met her on the steps of the school. Appearance wise, it looked the same. Her class-mates were distorted with strange looks and opposite personalities—none too friendly towards her, even though they'd witnessed her drown months ago—and it was with narrowed eyes that she stared at Rien from across the classroom.

There was a faint bruise on his cheek, fading yellow colouring his nose, which caused pride to swell in her chest. She was the cause of that, and it felt good. She wouldn't have resorted to such tactics with his counterpart, but this—this boy was not him.

She grew concerned for Marinette by the end of the week. Rin wondered about what type of person her other half had been, how she could've let so many people trample over her without standing up for herself at all. There had been countless comments sent her way with the intention of making her curl into herself quietly, and the dark-haired female defiantly stared back, either commenting something equally rude or responding in cold laughter that had no place on the one they assumed her to be.

Marinette was gone. Whether she'd transferred into her old world, taken Rin's place in the loving home that she'd naïvely taken for granted, was unknown. All she hoped was that Marinette was learning to stand up for herself over there, to not let class-mates of equal status treat her like dirt, especially if she'd let it get as far as an attempt on her life.

She couldn't blame Marinette for everything, though. It was a two-way street, therefore Rien was at fault, too. As much as she hated the new male on sight for having taken the place of someone who used to amuse her, she watched him in the classroom at times to try and understand the dynamics of their class.

They treated Chloé like trash, too. There were a few shoves into tables, rude comments that made her look away and keep her mouth shut, and for some odd reason it caused an unpleasant feeling within her mouth. This—it wasn't right. The Chloé she knew was one with a wicked sense of righteousness and enjoyed teasing others, making it her duty to grate on the nerves of her class-mates and assert her dominance due to her family's status.

It was as though when she looked at the blonde, she saw Marinette. With every delicate wince and withdrawn gesture, Rin saw her other self; the reserved nature, allowing herself to be a pushover and letting people take her for granted, and it didn't sit right with her.

When had that happened, though? Sure, there had been a few pleasant feelings for the blonde when she kept her company through the summer, but it had been with a begrudging expression that she tolerated Chloé's presence for the sole purpose of learning about her new surroundings. Yet, somewhere along the way she'd started to see her as someone else, as though she was someone that needed her protection.

It was ridiculous.

When they were playing a sports game for class, that was when she snapped. Rin had kept her comments to herself during classes, only responding if a class-mate tried to take advantage and presume her to be her old self, and slowly completed her classwork, noting that the material was relatively the same. It was the most attention she'd put into class, and that was only because the surroundings were new and strange to her, still. Chloé hadn't stuck by her side at all times; rather, the blonde-haired female appeared at lunch, quietly eating her food beside her and sometimes made conversation, asking how she was doing.

A month had passed, and in that time she had stopped being on edge from the thought of flickering out of existence, leaving the horrid home she was living in. Perhaps if it was going to happen, it would be during a life-threatening experience, and she didn't feel like experiencing one of those again. Although she didn't remember getting into the pool, let alone drowning, the awful burning in her throat and the after-effects were enough to make her avoid bathing since.

One of their class-mates, a thin girl with golden-coloured hair that used to be overweight and quiet in her own world, hit Chloé on the back of the head with a ball, laughing loudly when she fell forward onto the floor in surprise. There were tears in Chloé's eyes from the shock, and she gingerly pressed a hand against her head, looking everywhere but at anyone else in the room.

Rin glanced at the teacher and noticed they were busy conversing with a male student, unaware of what was happening in the room.

There wasn't anyone looking at her as she walked forward, shoes squeaking against the gym's flooring, and picked the ball up from the floor with a smirk.

"Hey, Mylène!" she called, watching the girl walk back to her gaggle of friends with her back turned to her. "You dropped something."

It was luck that she managed to hit the shot. Physical activities had never been her strong suit, especially during class, so the satisfying noise of the ball connecting with her intended target's back, along with the groan that escaped her, caused her expression to turn victorious. She ignored the stunned and incredulous looks of their class-mates, even the students from the other side of the gym that had heard her loud voice, and instead extended a hand towards the fallen blonde, offering assistance.

"Get up," Rin demanded, frowning at the picture before her.

Seeing her other self in her class-mate wasn't right, she knew that. Yet witnessing their class-mates taking advantage of her weak nature grated on her nerves, a subtle feeling of guilt pooling within her stomach when she wondered if this was how she made others feel in the long run.

She wasn't a nice person, which she could openly admit, but she wasn't one that would snoop to injuring other adolescents for amusement; rather, she used words for that purpose instead. If she saw another bruise blossom upon Chloé's skin, the ones she collected from tripping over or connecting with the corners of tables, she felt that her anger would've been severely misplaced, and she would've snapped at the victim instead.

Her first goal was to try and get Chloé to stand up for herself. Perhaps if she did that, she would be able to differentiate between her counterpart and her class-mate, not pushing her misplaced feelings upon the blonde before her.

Chloé accepted her hand, standing up with bleary eyes and a small smile of what she presumed to be gratitude—gratitude for being a bitch to someone other than her, it seemed.

When someone made a rude comment directed at Chloé, Rin replied with an equally distasteful remark paired with a disapproving expression. She didn't encourage the blonde to hide behind her, nor for her to shy behind Rin's words. When she'd finished a comment, she'd ask, "Don't you agree, Chloé?" Her somewhat friend had seemed bewildered at first, staring at Rin with wide and confused eyes and looking as though she wanted to do nothing but leave the situation behind, but eventually she quietly answered, politely telling their class-mates to leave her alone.

They weren't insulting comments that came from her mouth, but it was an improvement. The development was what she hoped her counterpart was experiencing if they had swapped places, though they would most likely be directed at a warped version of Chloé, who was vindictive at times. The twisted expressions were sure to set Marinette off balance, much like Rien's did to Rin.

Rien had backed off, though. There were still comments as they walked past each other in the hallways, since they were often on opposite sides of the classroom, and she made sure to shoot him her nastiest looks and return the insults with gusto. Rather than growing angry at the defiance—as it couldn't be classed as anything else, he was what Chloé described to be her counterpart's worst enemy—he looked amused at times, happy with the retorts that had others shifting uncomfortably around them.

It grew into a system between them. Their class-mates backed off from shoving Chloé, instead making off-handed remarks in class when the blonde answered a question wrong or tripped over. The bullying had ceased, Chloé's skin was clear of bruises that weren't from her own doing, and she managed to retort her feelings; all of these things caused a small feeling of pride to swirl within Rin from noticing her evolution. Much the same, they backed off from Rin, too. It was somewhat well known that she was different after being resuscitated, though never directly explained through the doctor nor from the dark-haired females lips herself. Instead, she preferred to coolly correct the usage of her full name—which she wasn't fond of—and made sure it was clear that she wasn't who she once was.

Rien didn't seek her out. They made rude faces and gestures at each other when they were paired together in class, which resulted in them both being sent to the headmaster once.

It was an average life, she decided. The caring nature of her original family had been traded for wealth and absent parents, and she'd swapped her acquaintances for twisted versions and one unremarkable girl that she was slowly considering a friend. Chloé didn't push her to explain what had changed with her, ceased flinching from the scathing comments after a few months, and even shook her head in exasperation at some of the dark-haired females remarks. It was an odd friendship, yes, but she was glad to have it at all.

The make-up she'd ordered had built up over time, her parents never questioning why she wanted it at all, and it was with excitement that she started to upload make-up tutorials to the internet. There wasn't instant success—she hadn't been expecting as such, especially because of her awkward pubescent age—and she was content to use the opportunity given to do what she couldn't afford previously.

There were things she couldn't put on the shopping list, though. Over a rare dinner together, her parents announced they'd provide her with adequate money for a new wardrobe and cell phone if she had satisfactory grades at the end of the year. Unfortunately for her, that meant higher than she'd ever scored before.

Chloé was happy to hold study sessions within Rin's home (they'd ruled out the blonde's home from realising Rien would rudely intrude), which ended up being multiple times a week. Rin would groan and complain, snapping too harshly at times which made her momentarily wary that she'd broken the small friendship they'd created. As it turned out, Chloé softly reprimanded her for her language or gross expressions, having become used to the new her without much complaint. If she was missing her old friend, she didn't openly show it.

The studying paid off. With appropriate grades—which astounded her that she'd manage to get them at all—Rin was able to purchase clothes that were reminiscent to the ones that she missed. With an upgraded cell phone with charms hanging off of it, it turned out that worrying about college wasn't a problem for her. She hadn't messed up Marinette's grades with her appearance, therefore it appeared that she'd always had near-perfect.

She winced, wondering if her counterpart with having trouble with her mediocre grades.

Chloé applied to the same college as her by accident. They didn't realise it until they received their acceptance letters, then there was quiet excitement from the both of them. Although they weren't in the same classes, she appreciated the thought of having a familiar face there.

The Bourgeois household invited her for dinner a week before college started. Rin had been preparing herself, excited at the prospect of dressing herself in better quality clothing and finally wearing make-up now that she deemed her outfits worth it, so it was with red-stained lips and a knee-length dress that she rang the doorbell of the fancy house, smoothing the material of her dress in preparation of the incoming awkwardness.

The door opened without a squeak.

"Oh." It was Rien with a sour expression on his face. "It's you."

Rin made sure to knock his shoulder—not strong enough to topple him over—on her way past. "Here to brighten your day as always, Agreste."

She realised her mistake as soon as she said it. Licking her lips in sudden nervousness, Rin refused to look at his face as she heard, "What did you call me?"

This version of Adrien had taken on his step-father's last name. She'd sat through an entire year in class without calling him his last name. The teachers hadn't deemed it necessary to call him his surname due to the lack of another Adrien in their class, yet she'd already known about the name change, so she couldn't blame anything other than idiocy for the mistake.

They were interrupted by the arrival of Chloé, who looked warily between the two of them before striding forward to gently grasp Rin's wrist and tug her forward. Rin noted that her friend had lost some of the fat of her cheeks, much like how Rien had grown since she'd first appeared. Their appearances were ever-changing, setting them apart from their counterparts with every passing day. With Rien's bangs messily across his head—which his mother chastised at the table when they sat down—it was becoming easier to distinguish him from Adrien.

The conversations were as awkward as the last time she visited. Their parents were strict, making sure no elbows were on the table or other unseemly manners appeared, and kept the blond-haired male in line, while Chloé was mentioning their choice of college, confessing her surprise that they'd been accepted into the same one.

Rien had applied, been offered a place, and had rejected it for another one that would require travelling via train in the mornings.

When the conversation became too silent, air awkward and stiff, Rin excused herself to the upstairs bathroom, treading carefully as to not leave marks on the carpet to cause an uproar later on—she'd heard many tales of the clean state the Bourgeois' preferred their home to be in.

She splashed her face with water briefly, blinking at her reflection in the mirror. There had been a few changes with her, though not enough to feel connected to her old self. Dark-coloured hair reached above her breasts, not as long as she would've preferred, and she was pleased that she'd grown slightly, too. The differences were there, but the non-pierced earlobes continued to remind her of why she was there.

She couldn't find it in herself to pierce them.

When she exited the bathroom, Rin was momentarily surprised by the appearance of the blond-haired male leaning against the wall, arms crossed with a sour expression on his face.

"Shouldn't you be kissing your mother's ass elsewhere?" she asked, tilting her head quizzically.

He glanced at her sharply. "Do you always have to be a bitch?"

Well, it wasn't as though she'd signed a contract. "Oh, I apologise, mama's boy. I didn't mean to harm your gentle feelings."

"What the hell happened to you, Marinette?" Rien questioned, looking at her as though she were a bug. It was a demeaning gaze that had irritation flowing through her, the memory of hitting him and causing him physical harm flashing through her mind. Except she didn't want to stoop to that level again—it had gotten the message through the first time, now she was older, not recovering from a recent traumatic experience, so she couldn't claim legitimate excuses if he were to seek revenge elsewhere.

She shifted in the hallway, narrowing her eyes in defiance. "It's Rin," the dark-haired female snapped, frustrated that he'd resorted to identifying her as someone else. "Maybe I woke up and decided I didn't want to put up with your shit any more, have you thought of that?"

She'd taken a step closer while talking, shoes-clad feet almost pressing against his.

"You may have terrorised me in the past, but it's just that—the past."

His green-eyed gaze flickered, her unable to pinpoint where exactly he was focusing on, before his expression became contorted, unidentifiable as she became uncomfortable of their close proximity. Rin had made sure to stay away from him, only sitting besides each other if necessary in class to avoid the potential reminder that even if she didn't remember, it was him that was the cause of the muddle of her life.

If he hadn't tried to drown Marinette, she would've never known he existed. There would've been no kind-hearted Chloé, no distant parents that bought her love with wealth during their absence, no more small dinners that she'd never realised just how lonesome they could be alone.

Then again, she wouldn't have a friend—for that was what Chloé really was to her at that point, though she'd been reluctant to admit that she'd accepted her counterpart's friend in the first place. She wouldn't have the impeccable grades that allowed her to apply to most education institutes of her choosing, regardless for their cost for travelling or supplies. She wouldn't have the budding video channel from the expensive camera that she'd been gifted, nor the opportunity to rebuild her life from a nice, but trodden-on, personality in the past.

Rin looked him in the eye and hissed, "I will not be a victim of yours for fun."

"You don't suddenly wake up and grow a backbone, Marinette," the blond-haired male retorted, barely audible so their voices wouldn't travel downstairs. "I remember you when we were kids—your stupid wide eyes when I transferred into your class, always smiling just like when you'd used to follow me at the park."

What exactly did kids mean? Chloé hadn't mentioned when their parents had re-married to each other, nor the fact that Rien had transferred at any point. It was her quick assumption it had been when they were younger; or so, she hoped due to the blinded description he'd given of her counterpart. If they'd been friends in the past, what could've gone wrong?

"So what?" she replied blandly, curling her upper lip in distaste. "Everyone makes mistakes—it so happens that mine was thinking we could be friends when we were little," Rin paused for a moment, waiting for a rebuttal before realising that she was correct, "and yours was drowning me."

His voice was a whisper as he said, "Shut up."

She cocked her head to the side, momentarily puzzled by his reaction. Of course someone wouldn't be unchanged by almost taking someone's life, it was just that—she hadn't seen it. Rien hadn't shown remorse to her, especially not when they'd first met since the pool within his living room, and he certainly hadn't apologised in their year together. There had been countless times where he could've uttered the words and cleared the air, and instead he'd left it hanging awkwardly between them. It seemed the only person other than the two of them that knew what had happened was Chloé (who wouldn't tattle from the fear of not being believed).

"You don't get to come back from that," she responded coldly. "Others may not know the truth, but I have no doubt—you're scum."

Perhaps the reaction she'd expected was a slap—surely her attitude warranted that—or a harsh shove away from him, yet when he leaned forward, she held her ground, refusing to back away with a flinch. Rin was determined, still, no show no weakness to someone like him. Yet when he harshly pressed their mouths together in a mocking version of a kiss, she was stunned, immobile as she processed the harsh movements of his lips against hers. The warmth of his breath felt vile, the sudden grip of his fingers within her dark tresses of hair—tight, painful—it was all too much; the influx of different sensations were equally disorientating and unwanted.

This—this wasn't how she'd wanted her first taste of romance to be. It wasn't supposed to be harsh, demanding, possessive; she longed for sweetness, tender movements that weren't bringing unwanted wetness to her eyes from the intrusion.

She did the first thing she could think of. Rin bit down on his bottom lip, not flinching from the spread of warmth from what she assumed to be his blood, nor from the pained gasp as he tried to pull away. She bit down savagely, portraying her anger and refusal of his sudden advances, only pulling away to kick him in the shin for good measure. As Rien groaned, torn between clutching his damaged lip or his leg, Rin wiped her mouth on the back of her hand with a disgusted expression.

"I'm not yours to toy with, Rien," she whispered coldly, shaking from the built up anger.

She walked out without explaining herself.

-x-

Although her goal wasn't to pursue a job via her education, she tried to keep her grades up while uploading videos in her spare time. She was steady gaining fans, becoming noticed on social media from the photographs she posted when she was particularly proud of her appearance on days, and that was what kept her happy when the classwork made her feel lethargic.

Chloé travelled to and from their college with her each day, buzzing with excitement from the upcoming classes. The blonde wasn't teased, no; there weren't many from their previous school that had followed them, so she wasn't as nervous to interact with her new class-mates. When they saw each other at lunch, which they'd also agreed to eat together when they weren't swamped with projects, Rin greeted any of the newcomers that came along with the blonde, intent on meeting Rin from knowing she was her friend.

It was strange, she supposed. Rin hadn't cared much for being friends with others in the past, and despite the fact that she still saw a reflection of her counterpart within Chloé, she was glad that she was becoming her own person as time went on.

Rin held her tongue from interrupting her teachers, tried not to disrupting the lessons unless it was a serious comment, and was surprised that she could consider some of her class-mates as friends by the end of the first year. Her parents were pleased with her grades the first year, rewarding her with whatever she wanted—which resulted in more clothing, as she'd grown an inch or so—and reminded her that she didn't have to follow in their footsteps.

If they thought she was capable of being a doctor, they were sourly mistaken. Rin thanked them politely for the opportunities, pursuing her own claim to her future in her free time.

The Bourgeois' invited her for dinner that summer, too. It was two weeks before the new term started at college, almost a year since the disastrous kiss she'd had with Rien, and she wasn't too happy with the thought of visiting. Chloé had pleaded with her, saying she didn't want to sit through an awkward dinner alone where Rien had invited his own guest.

Rin was relieved that it was Chloé that answered the door. The blonde looked frazzled, frowning for a moment before she caught her friend's eyes, giving her a tentative smile instead.

She picked up on the negative emotions immediately. "Do I need to punch someone?" Rin questioned.

Chloé blinked her blue eyes in shock, covering her mouth to muffle her laughter. "I—no, but thank you. It's just... I've had a hard time staying home the past few days."

"You can crash at my place, if you need to," the dark-haired female offered, wiping her shoes before stepping inside. Despite how anal the Bourgeois' were with cleanliness, they didn't take their shoes off at the entrance (she assumed multiple sets of slippers was too much clutter in their eyes). "It's not like my parents would even notice."

"I might have to take you up on that," Chloé whispered. "You'll see why soon."

It wasn't a female friend that Rien had over. As it turned out, it was a class-mate from his college that was set to stay at their house until their classes resumed and he went back home, so Chloé had to put up with the extra company during the day, especially when their parents were absent.

Jean, who had a cocky smile and manners that seemed more mocking than polite, was insincere in everything he did, and when they were alone, he wasn't shy in making comments about Chloé's appearance—which Rien didn't stop.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Rin snapped from her seat in the living room, having promised to stay until late evening, as long as possible, before returning home. Rien and Jean were talking to each other across the room, but it was the loud comment about Chloé's breasts that had caught her attention.

Jean looked at her with raised eyebrows, bemused by the change of her attitude once the parental figures had disappeared. "Enjoying what the view has to offer?" he returned, sounding close to laughter.

"I can't say anyone would do the same to you," she retorted, upper lip curling in distaste. "How about you back off before I throw you outside?"

"Why would I?" He chortled, the sound as unattractive as his dull brown hair. "I've been here longer than you. I doubt a weak push from you could even get me out of the door."

It was no wonder that Chloé had practically begged for her to come over. She was thankful that the blonde hadn't retracted into the shell that she'd originally met her in, yet seeing someone that was objectifying her without remorse caused her hands to curl into fists. The fact that Rien was watching the two of them interact without intervening, having the gall to look amused at the mention of violence, had her frustrated even more. Hadn't she proven that she'd protect herself when necessary in the past? If so, then why would he assume that it wouldn't apply to his sister, too?

With a sharp look, she asked the blond, "Are you going to let him treat your sister that way?"

His smirk seemed as cold as ever. "She's no blood relation of mine."

"Rin," Chloé mumbled from beside her, placing a hand upon her arm in what was supposed to be a move to calm her down. "Don't—"

She threw her hands up in exasperation. "You're unbelievable!"

"I'm scum, if I recall correctly," Rien replied coolly, green eyes looking at her from head to toe. "But that isn't news to you, is it?"

Really? If that comment was bothering him, then surely he knew that it was deserved. None of her violence had been directed for no reason; it had been retribution for pent up anger from the years of mistreatment that he'd inflicted upon Marinette. She wasn't something—someone—for him to play with as he pleased. If he thought that a kiss would sway her opinion of him, one that hadn't been asked for and was wholly inappropriate, then he was just as delusional as he was cruel.

Breaking eye contact, Rin stood up, smoothing the wrinkles in her clothes as she announced, "You have ten minutes to get your stuff and leave, Jean. I doubt you want to stay around for the consequences."

She grasped Chloé's wrist, tugging her to her feet and towards the door, only pausing in the doorway for a moment to look over her shoulder, casting a cold look in Rien's direction.

With a quick slap to her own cheeks, causing her eyes to grow damp and sting, she urged her friend to go along with what she said.

When she lied and confessed to the Bourgeois' that their guest had touched her inappropriately, it was two words against one—Rien didn't confirm nor deny it when he was called in by the shrill cry of his mother.

Rin deduced that it was a yearly occurrence after that. After they'd finished college, applied and been accepted to their wanted universities, she was invited to the Bourgeois household for another dinner prior to her move into her university dorm. She and Chloé were set to be separated by hours apart, so she didn't think of declining the invitation. Rien was there alone, quietly pushing the food around his plate without contributing to the conversation.

Their parents were happy for the two of them, and it seemed that they'd grown somewhat fond of Rin over the years, too. She had the sneaking suspicion that they would've been happier with the Marinette version of herself, yet it had been three years at that point without a glimpse, not even a flickering when her conscious was waning at nights, of the other world. If it wasn't for her natural earlobes ears and the hair that was almost at the length it had been in her other body, she would've thought she was delusional.

When Rien's choice of university was talked about, with his mother smiling and his step-father nodding in approval, it was then that it became clear why he was asking so strange.

"I'm not going," he said, clearing his throat. "I already called up and cancelled my place—they gave it to someone else, so there's no point trying to get it back."

They were mad, yelling in disbelief and disapproval, and all the while Rin was looking at Chloé in confusion, who was equally as baffled with the sudden development. Rin excused herself, retreating to her own home with her friend in tow to avoid the unnecessary drama.

After university started, they kept in contact. As it turned out, the Bourgeois' had kicked their son out, no longer wanting to support him from rebelling against them without warning. There wasn't much news about him, though; Chloé had tried to message his cell phone a few times to no avail, and eventually gave up as the years passed by. The last she knew was that he was staying at a friend's house until he could get a stable job, and even when Rin visited for the yearly dinner—with one member short, which resulted in her sitting across from either one of the parents awkwardly—there wasn't a mention of him. It was as though the Bourgeois' had written him off, no longer wanting anything to do with him because of his refusal for further education.

Rin wondered whether her new parents would've done the same thing. Although they'd given her multiple options on what to study, they'd always expressed that it had to be something.

When she graduated university with more than a decent following on social media and for her videos, her parents said they were happy that she'd passed. Their graduation gift for her was an apartment twenty minutes away, furnished by a stylist which included her personal belongings that she'd left in her bedroom at home, and she was given the key with the message clear—it was time to move out.

Although they were fine to provide money for her when needed, Rin didn't want to stoop to that. They were truly absent now that she was in her own home; there weren't any quiet dinners every few weeks, nor was there a shopping list to make up for her absence. She decided to break free of them, thanking them for everything with the half-hearted promise to visit in the future (which surely meant in a year or so, as perhaps they'd have time off then), and set about getting herself a stable job for adequate income.

She was proud to say that she had fans of her make-up, and the donation page that she'd created a couple of years ago was regularly used. Clothing websites had contacted her to advertise their brand with the offer of a percentage of the amount they sold using her discount code, which also added up to her monthly income. She wasn't too bothered about finding a full-time job, just looking for one that wouldn't be too stressful so she could still post in her free time.

Rin accepted a position as a receptionist at a local hospital at first before she realised she wasn't cut out for dealing with distraught or hysterical individuals that came in, which resulted in her quitting after three months. Instead she found employment at a local restaurant, happy to serve as a waitress due to the calm atmosphere for a few hours.

-x-

When it marked seven years in the new world, Rin was pleased when she looked in the mirror. Although it was the same face that she'd seen all those years ago, it had changed considerably; her hair was long and tucked away into a braid, a few strands framing her face, in a style that was slightly longer than what she'd had in her old body. It had the individuality she'd longed for to set her apart from her mother previously, reminding her of why she'd wanted it in the first place. Her cheeks had thinned, there was more muscle on her limbs, and her breasts had grown from the small sight they had been before.

It was with the acceptance that she was there for good that she decided to change one last thing. On her next day off, Rin set off for a local tattoo-parlour, happily withdrawing the money charged to pierce her ears. They directed her to the back of the shop, through a small corridor to a room that was out of the front window's view.

She cleared her throat to catch the man's attention, eyes darting around to view the multiple pictures on the walls and the lone chair situated in the middle.

"Wait a bloody moment," the man grouched, scribbling on a piece of paper upon the desk, back turned towards her.

Not offended by their attitude, Rin leaned against the wall, unsure whether she was supposed to sit down without an offer.

"All right." She blinked in surprise, no longer focused on the pictures as the man turned around. "What were you sent down here for?"

His voice had deepened, body become taller and leaner, yet the messy mop of golden-coloured hair upon his head was unmistakable. Rin looked visibly taken aback as he turned around, having not expected to see him again after so many years, especially not with his arms covered in tattoos and a silver eyebrow piercing standing out beside his viridian eyes.

"...Rien?" she questioned, looking at him sceptically.

To her surprise, he didn't look at her coldly. The grin didn't meet his eyes, sure, but it showed the indents on his cheeks that usually only showed when he smirked. "Well, shit," he replied, looking at her from head to toe. "Here to tell me the mistakes of my life once more?"

"No," she said slowly, edging towards the door. "I'll just—"

"Sit down," he demanded, pointing to the chair walked towards her. There was no venom in his voice, but she didn't feel like being voluntarily hurt by him, even if it would only feel like a pinch. "My boss will complain endlessly if you walk out of here in a huff—I'm not going to antagonise you at my job, Rin."

She looked at him warily, taking a moment to realise that he was right. It would be undoubtedly stupid to cause an argument in his place of work, especially since he was self-sufficient.

When she said she wanted single piercings on each earlobe, he nodded and commented, "Finally decided to spice up your boring appearance, eh?"

She didn't take the bait. There was slight pain, nothing too harsh to bring tears to her eyes, and she was pleased with the final result.

"I—thanks," the dark-haired female said awkwardly, not accustomed to relating him with something she was thankful for.

"Sure." Rien shrugged, collecting his equipment and relocating them to the desk once more. "Make sure to come back when you're tempted to get some ink."

With that bizarre experience out of the way, Rin exited with stinging ears. The cold wind made them hurt worse, though it was just a reminder of what she'd done. When she relayed the information that she'd found Rien to Chloé when they met up for drinks one weekend, the blonde was just as surprised to hear that her step-brother was riddled with tattoos and a facial piercing. Their parents hadn't tried to contact him again, but that didn't mean they had taken down the pictures of him from their home.

When she was working one evening with her hair clumped into a messy bun upon her head, natural-looking make-up on since the manager wasn't impressed with her previous red lipstick, Rin barely stifled a groan when she saw who was in her section. Of course, she knew that Rien worked locally, but she hadn't expected him to pop up again so soon, especially after they'd managed to stay out of each other's way for years without problems.

It was with a fake smile that she sauntered up to his table, directing her comments to his date rather than him. She was a tanned female with brown hair parted in the middle, her gaze mostly on her date rather than paying attention to Rin, who was trying to get her order.

Rien hadn't acknowledged her by name, though. "Will that be all?" she questioned, referring to the lack of response from his date.

The brunette snapped to attention, looking down at the menu and blindly picked a dish. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she accepted their menus and disappeared, returning briefly with their beverages which resulted in her being promptly ignored.

Serving their food was a quiet affair, too, and she believed that perhaps she and Rien had grown out of antagonising each other (or they respected each other's work places, either worked). She was picking up a dropped menu when she felt pressure on her backside—pressure that made her stiffen before snapping upfront, turning around to face the culprit with anger in her eyes.

It was a middle-aged man that was looking at her with a smile, already having withdrawn his hand as he murmured, "You don't want to create a scene, do you?"

She didn't have the chance to decide that for herself. Someone else had reacted before her; there was the sickening crunch of a fist colliding with the man's face, a gurgle and splutter as blood came from the surely broken nose, and a cry of pain, then shouts of shock as attention was drawn to them.

Rien's hands were covered in scarlet liquid from the multiple punches he'd inflicted—the man had fallen off of his chair from the first, then was pressed against the floor as more were delivered. Rin had looked in horror at her unlikely defender before trying to pull him off, instead being shoved away with a roll of his arm and stumbled back before she regained her balance.

Even if his intention had been somewhat noble, especially for him, the outcome was not. Rin was fired from her job, the man was taken to hospital before the police intervened, taking him to the police station with Rien, who was being charged with assault. Rin was reluctant to lodge herself in and confess his misdoing, but it was from the insistence of Chloé that she explained that she'd been touched inappropriately, and said that her friend—for it would sound better if they had a positive relationship—had reacted for her.

Rien wasn't charged, surprisingly. Perhaps it was the slap she'd delivered to her own cheeks and the misty-eyed gaze with a tale similar to the one she'd lied about to the Bourgeois' all those years ago.

He lit a cigarette when they walked outside of the station, taking in a deep breath as he took in the dark sky. "I'm surprised you came in."

Stretching her arms above her head, Rin replied, "I couldn't let you rot for your first good deed—at least, that's what your sister convinced me."

"You're still friends?" He raised his eyebrows, raising the cigarette to his lips. "You seem like the type to push those around you to the curb."

That would've been an apt description of the old her, she supposed; the Rin she'd been before she woke up in this world. Back when she didn't see the point of befriending others, especially not if they were weak-willed, and she certainly didn't see a reflection of herself within them. Rin simply hummed in reply, not deeming an answer necessary as she started down the street.

It was quiet for a few minutes before she realised that he was still behind her, lazily smoking with one hand in his pocket. "What are you doing?" she demanded, stopping as she turned around on the pavement.

"Walking you home," Rien replied blandly, looking at her as though she was a helpless animal. "Isn't it obvious?"

She took in a deep breath after she caught sight of his bloodied knuckles. He must've caught the man's teeth on them, as there were indents in the skin that needed to heal. "The last time you tried to do that, I punched you," the dark-haired female reminded him, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. "What makes you think I won't do that again?"

"Other than the fact that I saved your ass tonight?"

He—he was insufferable. Rin's expression turned incredulous from the phrase he used, and when he realised what he'd said, he cracked a lopsided smile that didn't belong on his face. "Saved me?" she questioned, baffled. "B-because of you, I lost my job! Your fucking act of twisted kindness got you arrested, and let's not forget your date that bolted."

He blew the smoke out purposely slow. "I was only with her for a quick fuck—it's not much of a loss."

"What is wrong with you?" Rin sneered, not surprised when he tossed the cigarette on the floor and squished it with his shoe. "Punching someone for me, walking me home—why?"

"Why?" the blond repeated, taking a step closer to where she was immobile, staring at him with unspoken accusations clear upon her face. "I don't like people touching what's mine; that should've been clear to you years ago."

She wanted to laugh, really, she did. The first reaction was bubbling laughter within her, yet when she saw the serious expression on his face, the explanation of his messed up feelings towards her, she was dumbfounded by how she hadn't really seen it in the first place. It was no wonder that he'd picked on her—Marinette—while they were growing up if he had this twisted feeling of possession over her.

She swallowed thickly. "Yours?"

"Why else do you think little boys bother girls?" Rien laughed, and she suspected it was mostly at himself rather than her reaction. "I've always considered you mine; mine to tease, to play with. Watching someone else harm you isn't something I condone."

"And yours to kiss, apparently," the dark-haired female snapped, arms falling to her sides as she clenched her hands into fists that she had no intention of using, no matter how frustrated she grew. "But that didn't work out for you, did it?"

He didn't react to that how she thought he would; rather than anger, he answered coolly, "I haven't forced myself on you since, have I?"

At least he knew what he did was wrong, she supposed. Rin looked at him in confusion, trying to figure out when exactly his feelings had changed—surely, he couldn't have had misplaced affection when they were children, let alone when he was too young to understand those sort of relationships.

"What was drowning me, then? A twisted display of your affections?"

He ran a hand through his golden-coloured hair, in an action that was almost endearing and made her want to recoil and leave for thinking that. "I wasn't trying to hurt you," he proclaimed, stressing the word with a hard look in his green eyes. "I was—we were messing around and it just happened."

"That's the closest you've come to apologising in seven years," she spat, not processing the explanation offered well. She'd always convinced herself that it was on purpose; that he really was that messed up, and there was a real reason to stay away from him. Yet seeing the vulnerable action as he explained the workings of his mind, the bloodied knuckles that had stood out against his hair, made her stomach churn uncomfortably from knowing that it was because of her.

"What?"

She couldn't stay. "I—I'm going home," Rin choked out, cheeks burning as she realised that her eyes were becoming damp. "Leave me alone, Rien."

He didn't call after her.

-x-

Chloé was hired as a local weathergirl, which made her endlessly happy with the money and the fact that she was getting compliments from her sweet-looking appearance, and she was the one that suggested Rin's next attempt of a job. Rin was hired to in the make-up section of a department store, so she could use her self-proclaimed expertise to sell the products.

She'd posted on her social media where she worked, and to her surprise one of her fans came for a make-over, and happily purchased the make-up that she selected. The smile she wore when the customer left had hurt her cheeks, yet the fact that someone had purposely sought her out was the highest praise she had yet to receive.

Rin was watching a television show while a video was uploading, passing her time idly when there was a knock on her door. She blinked, surprised that the delivery of her food had arrived so soon. She grabbed the money she'd set aside, expecting to see someone in a uniform on the other side.

She wasn't expecting to see Rien with his sleeves pushed up, showing his tattoos as he held a kitten to his chest.

As tempted as she was to slam the door on his face, she instead demanded, "How do you know where I live?" For it was a good question, she certainly hadn't expected him to venture upstairs to her floor out of nowhere. There may not have been a good security system, but it was the explanation of how he knew where that had her wondering.

"Found it in Chloé's phone," he replied nonchalantly, adjusting the feline in his hands. He extended his arms, shoving the cat clumsily into her arms before running a hand through his blond hair in the same almost-endearing gesture he'd done the last time they'd seen each other. "I—this is for you."

The fact that Chloé was in contact with her step-brother hadn't popped up in their conversations, and she definitely didn't expect to have a kitten in her arms rather than the food she'd ordered.

"What the fuck?" Rin questioned, adjusting her hold on the honey-coloured kitten, noticing it had dark flecks across its skin that resembled spots. "You can't just—"

Rien interrupted before she had a chance to announce her incredulous thoughts. "Accept my fucking apology," he snapped, visibly frustrated as he shifted upon his feet.

"You could just say sorry like a normal person," she retorted, blue eyes flickering down to the cat in her arms once more. "Please tell me you didn't steal this cat from someone."

"Of course not." He huffed. "Cats are cute and all that shit, right? So there's no reason for you to reject me any more."

Any positive feeling she'd had towards him froze up. Rin looked up sharply with an incredulous expression as she hissed, "You bought me a cat in the hopes of sleeping with me?"

"What?" The blond laughed. "No—well, I wouldn't say no to it—I meant my apology, idiot."

She flushed from jumping to conclusions, unsure whether it was okay to really accept an animal from her childhood arch enemy. "So you snooped through your sister's phone so you could give me a cat?"

"Can we just focus on the fact you have a fucking tiny cat now and move on?" Rien replied, gesturing a hand to the docile kitten in her hands. "No refunds—my place doesn't allow pets."

Well, she couldn't deny that she liked cats—pets in general—and the prospect of owning one from a young age was appealing. The feline wasn't putting up much resistance, not making high-pitched noises in protest from the jostling nor the new environment. With a begrudging expression, she invited him inside, having realised that leaving the door open could mean the possibility of her new kitten escaping.

"I don't have any supplies for this," she mumbled, stepping out of the way for him to come inside.

The appearance of a smirk across his lips had her furrowing her eyebrows. Reaching down beside the front door, he revealed a carrier, that he clearly got her out of so he didn't have to hand the whole thing over to her, along with the necessary items needed to take care of the cat for the upcoming week. It was a small amount, yet a kind gesture that was still bewildering. It was akin to her parents showing their feelings through purchasing her anything she desired; rather than outright apologising, he was trying to give her something that would perhaps make up for the negative feelings he'd inflicted.

She'd never associated Rien with kindness, not really. Yet there had been two instances of him showing his warped feelings in questionable way, appearing more human than he had for years as he did so.

The kitten was female, bought at the local pet-store when he saw the sign, and she decided on the name Tikki. Rien stayed sat on her couch awkwardly as she stored her new belongings across the living room, trying to find the right spots for everything.

When the doorbell rang, he questioned sourly, "Boyfriend?"

"Close enough." She shrugged, handing Tikki over to him to make sure she didn't bolt out of the door. The money was left by the door still, forgotten after she'd realised it wasn't the right delivery the last time, and she didn't make idle chatter other than thanking them for the food. Rien looked less displeased when he realised that it was take-away that she'd ordered, rather than an incoming intimate partner. "I'm not offering you any food," Rin said as she retrieved a plate and cutlery for herself, the drawer shutting with a louder noise than necessary.

"I never expected you to," he replied, settling the kitten on the sofa before standing up and stretching his arms above his head. "I'll leave if you answer me one thing."

She huffed. "Shoot."

"Go out with me." It wasn't a question.

Rin didn't look up as she responded coolly, "No, thanks. I'd rather stay inside."

"Rin," he reprimanded, sounding displeased with her sarcastic response.

"Rien," she returned, turning to face him with raised eyebrows. "What did you expect me to do? There's no fucking chance I'd jump into your arms and ask you to take me."

His expression matched hers as he crossed his arms on his chest. "I was arrested for you—the least you could do is go out with me."

"Your stupid ass decision to be a knight in bloodied armour made me lose my job!" the dark-haired female retorted hotly, forgetting about her food and closing the distance between them with narrowed eyes. "And before you mention Tikki, we've already agreed that wasn't to get into my pants."

Once more, he ran a hand through his golden tresses in a move that had her shifting the weight of her feet awkwardly. "What the fuck else am I supposed to do? I'm not buying you roses and shit."

"You're forgetting the fact that I have to like you," Rin pointed out, frustrated that her rejections weren't getting through to him. Although she could say that she hadn't despised all of their time together since they'd met again, that didn't mean that she was anticipating their meetings. The thought of sitting together with him in an intimate fashion had her stomach churning uncomfortably, wondering whether they'd lash out verbally at each other or not.

"Quit the high and mighty act, princess," Rien drawled, frowning. "You haven't pushed me away since you let me come inside."

The urge to throw her hands up in exasperation was barely squashed. She looked at him blankly for a moment before she sweetly asked, "Was my rejection not clear enough for you?"

"No," he said, taking a step closer so their shoes pressed against each other, "it wasn't."

It was similar to their first kiss, yet not. Rien's mouth was warm against hers, the movements of his lips harsh and possessive, along with the fingers tangled within the dark strands of her hair. She didn't have horror coursing through her as she had done before; instead, she allowed her eyes to close as she grasped at the material of his shirt—bring him closer—and returned the kiss with an intensity that she didn't know she had.

It wasn't gentle, hesitant or affectionate as some of her others kisses had been. Rien was trying to claim her silently through his actions, asserting the fact that he was possessive of her and wanted to convey it thoroughly. Rin responded just as heatedly, breaths coming out as pants between each slide of their lips. There wasn't a subtle offer of advancing it either, though she shouldn't have expected it. As one of his hand fell lower, cradling her jaw and holding on tight, his tongue slipped through, causing a shudder of pleasure through her as she complied with his actions.

When they broke apart, his lips were reddened, slightly swollen, and there was a colouring of pink along his cheeks that hadn't been there previously. Despite how certain she'd been that she hadn't wanted it, she had enjoyed it, and seeing his reactions to her had the pulse between her legs thumping loudly in approval. As strange as it had been to associate him with nice actions, this was even more baffling.

"Go out with me," he demanded again, voice low.

Well, he did buy her a kitten.