"…And we're connected! Hello again, followers. This is Alya, live and on site for the one and only Ladyblog. Today we're checking in from Le Grand Paris, following the trail of Paris' new supervillain, one calling himself… Super Mustache!"
Alya's face filled the screen, excited, smiling wide. It was clear that she was running, and probably should have been looking where she was going instead of talking into a cellphone camera. In the background were the backs of people running the other way, away from the mayor's hotel, their screams filling the air. Alya's finger tapped below the camera, and suddenly the view changed from forward-facing to rear, taking in the hotel ahead.
A man in a tuxedo laughed maniacally, twirling his impressively thick mustache. He snapped his cane out suddenly, pointing it at a fleeing man. Red energy shot out from the cane's tip, and suddenly, a comically large mustache was sprouting from the fleeing man's face, overwhelming him and wrapping him in layers and layers of thick, grasping hair. Around them on the hotel grounds, roughly two dozen people were in similar dire straits, men, women, and children, covered in still-growing hair that struck, tentacle-like, at anything that came near.
"It's… one of the more ridiculous villains so far, I'll admit," Alya's voice drifted in over the scenery. Then, muttering, "and that's saying something. But! If La Papillonne has created another supervillain to terrorize Paris, then who even knows what terrible schemes are planned for this time. The real question, though, is why he's being allowed to rampage unchecked, and why we haven't yet seen—over there!"
Super Mustache's laughter was cut off suddenly by a long silver pole suddenly plunging into the ground, two feet away from him. Two black boots suddenly swung into the camera, kicking him hard moments before he could shoot another beam at someone in the audience.
"Chat Noir!" Alya's voice sounded off in excitement, yelling to be heard over the screams.
Super Mustache staggered back, cane flailing as he struggled to catch his balance. "You!" he yelled, before swinging the cane for the superhero's head.
The boy in the black catsuit grinned and sidestepped, the cane whistling as it whipped past inches away from messy blonde hair and black cat ears. "Uh-oh, looks like it's getting a little hairy out here. Why don't you shave off a little of that aggression before this gets worse, huh?"
"Well, if it isn't Chat Noir," the supervillain growled. "That's unfortunate. I got stuck with the annoying one today."
"Oh, what," Chat Noir said with an easy shrug and smile, twirling his baton as he slowly advanced. "More of a dog person? Tell you what. Reverse whatever it is you're doing over here, give me your akuma, and we'll go our separate ways. Deal?"
"No deal!" Super Mustache yelled, raising his cane again. "La Papillonne's orders were very clear. I'm coming out of here with your ring, and you're coming out of here with the finest fair mustache that I've made today!" The tip of his cane glowed red.
Chat Noir barreled forward suddenly, going from easy-going and carefree to dead serious in the blink of an eye. He tripped Super Mustache up, sending the beam straight into the air to hit an unfortunate pigeon instead. Super Mustache fell onto his back, and Chat Noir jumped on top of him, hammering down with his baton to strike the cane out of the taller man's hand.
Super Mustache reared up to struggle. As he did, a small can of mustache wax fell out of his pocket, rolled a short ways on the concrete, then clattered down to the ground. It swirled with an unnatural purple and black color, the tell-tale signs of possession. Chat Noir's and Super Mustache's eyes followed it from a few feet away. Super Mustache paled. Chat Noir grinned wide, looking around to make sure that someone was still filming him.
"Well, that's probably it, folks," Alya was saying to her phone from way too little of a distance to be safe. "Chat Noir has the upper hand, and he's about to secure the villain and take the akuma." She sounded almost slightly disappointed. "In another minute or two, that will be another point for Chat Noir, unless, unless…! I don't believe it!"
A whistling noise. A glint, of red and black zipping by in Chat Noir's periphery, a small round object on the end of a string. It snapped toward the can of wax, wrapped around it, and zipped back upwards. From the shadow of a rooftop high above on Le Grand Paris, Ladybug stepped out into the sunlight, holding out her hand to catch the yoyo and the object trapped in its string. She smirked.
"Did you see that?" Alya's voice cried in the background. "Of course you did, followers, 'cause you're watching the Ladyblog! Ladybug just swooped in for the victory, at the last possible second! How incredible, how miraculous—"
"Cheater!" Chat Noir yelled from the ground, eyes narrowed. "This one was mine, and you know it!"
"Oh. Was it?" Ladybug's prim, cold voice called back, tossing the can into the air, then catching it without looking at it. "Then why am I the one holding the akuma?"
"Not for long," Chat Noir seethed, suddenly extending his baton. It kicked him off into the air, vaulting for her location. On the ground, Super Mustache watched him go, then slowly got to his feet and began to back away.
Ladybug immediately turned, graceful and composed, and zipped away for a nearby balcony, her movements as sure and measured as a ballerina's. Chat Noir didn't care. He landed on the rooftop and bounded after her, intent on the can in her hands. His ears warned him to the incoming whistling of her yoyo, and he dodged at the last moment before it could slam into the side of his face. In retaliation, he flicked his baton forward and swept it toward her, trying to knock her legs out from under her. She hopped above it, so he whirled it around, trying to smack it at the hand holding the can. Instead, she caught it, gripping it tight, turning to glare at him over her shoulder.
A shadow passed over them from above, a news helicopter. A cameraman leaned out precariously far from the side of it, trying to get a shot of the stand-off happening below. Behind him, his coworker raised her voice to be heard over helicopter blades.
"This is Nadja Chamack," the woman called into a second camera, hair whipping in the breeze, the Paris skyline behind her. "Reporting live from above Le Grand Paris, where noted menaces Ladybug and Chat Noir are interfering in yet another supervillain event. Witnesses are already reporting broken glass and roof tiles raining down from above, as their weapons damage yet more private property, and it remains to be seen whether the damage will be resolved before this is all over. I'm joined by public opinion expert Jean LaBiche, who is here to tell us about the growing controversy over whether the two so-called 'superheroes' are a help or a hindrance to the law. Jean, can you answer—"
"What a show we're being treated to today, viewers!" Alya said below, racing along the side of the building with her phone to try to get a better angle on the fight happening above. "As loyal followers of the blog know, I've been keeping track of the competition for months now, faithfully reporting on every akuma capture by either side. Now, as you can see, Chat Noir is currently trailing Ladybug by three akumas, so he badly needed this win today to make up the difference. If Ladybug pulls off the steal, it's only going to be that much harder for him. Now, Ladybug historically and statistically has every advantage, and seems technically to be the better athlete, but with Chat Noir's combination of good luck and pure effort—"
Oblivious to the cameras, Chat Noir and Ladybug were lunging at each other on the rooftops above, weapons whirling too fast to see. Gleeful laughter from Chat Noir, as he snagged the can and began racing away. The yoyo string wrapped around his ankle and pulled, he tripped and dropped it. It hurtled through the air, before Ladybug swung through suddenly, grabbed it and tossed it in the air, then flung herself up after it. Only for Chat Noir to catch it again even before getting back on his feet. She grabbed at his hands, he tackled her, and then they were rolling over and over each other, coming dangerously close to toppling off of the sloped edge of the section of roof they were currently on.
A red beam blasted into the tiles just over Ladybug's shoulder, smoking and sending up a small patch of hairy slate filaments before fizzling out. Ladybug jerked, glancing toward the ground, where Super Mustache had found his cane again. "You didn't even secure your supervillain?" she hissed, kicking out at Chat Noir. "And you dare to call yourself a superhero."
"I was about to," he gritted, "before someone came along and stole my akuma!"
"Oh please," she said, rolling her eyes. "As if you didn't steal mine the other day."
"Well, you started it!" He threw her off, and slammed the can into the damaged roof surface, breaking it. The sooner the akuma was caught, the sooner Super Hipster or whatever would cool it with the hair growth beams.
Ladybug landed, skidding, and whipped her yoyo out for the fleeing butterfly that erupted from the can of wax. Chat Noir's baton was already waiting for her though, intercepting the string, causing it to catch and wrap around the shiny metal. He flung the baton aside and bounded up, clapping his black claws over the fluttering insect, triumph on his face.
Only for the smile to disappear as the roof's edge immediately buckled under him upon landing. There was a crack, and then he was falling, into open air, his heart hammering as fast as the wings of the akuma struggling desperately inside his clasped hands. There was no time to cry out, or plan, or do anything. He didn't have his baton. He was frozen, watching the ground hurtle up to him, his ears filled with wind and the sound of screams from the spectators below, whistling, whistling—
Red and black. The yoyo zipped around his midsection, then suddenly snapped tight, stopping his fall. He gasped, wind squeezed out of his lungs. The ground was maybe ten feet below him, swaying. No, he way swaying, on the tip of the yoyo, watching the butterfly slip out of his shaking fingers. Had Ladybug just saved his—
His eyes widened as the yoyo suddenly snapped sideways, unwrapping and dropping him. Frantically, he grabbed out at anything, until his claws latched onto a rain gutter, tearing lines into it before finally bringing his fall to a stop. He clung there, gasping, and slowly looked up.
With a smirk and a flourish, Ladybug bowed, pirouetted, and swung her yoyo in exactly three circles before snapping it out over the rising akuma. "Never fear, Paris!" she called out loudly, to every camera listening in. "Ladybug saves the day today. You've done enough, little akuma. I'm purifying you from evil!"
The crowd erupted in cheers. Only Chat Noir, clinging to the side of the building with all of his senses heightened, noticed what everyone else missed. The yoyo had come so close, within millimeters of the akuma. Only for the akuma to jerk to the side at the last moment. As far as anyone else could tell, it was inside the yoyo, being spun around even now while Ladybug smiled for the crowd. Chat Noir spotted,though, the dark shape, barely visible in the busy skyline, still flying away.
He clenched his teeth and bound after it, out of view of the cameras.
"Miraculous Ladybug!" his rival called above him, snapping her yoyo up. The crowd erupted into impressed yells and applause as light and swarms of ladybugs filled the air, sweeping over the building and removing every last ounce of hair.
"Wow, look at that!" Alya called from below, "Another win for Ladybug! She really is incredible, isn't she? Chat Noir is now trailing by four. Hang on, let me see if I can get a quick interview…!" She began running toward the house, waving her arms to get Ladybug's attention.
Ladybug smiled at the different cameras in different directions, more reporters starting to come in now that the supervillain had been neutralized, and was slowly coming to on the steps below. She waved for the cameras, and then frowned for a moment, looking in the direction that Chat Noir had run off toward.
.:|:.
The alley between major streets was dark and dusty, not on the good side of town. The buildings crowded close, and hung over, generally making it gloomy and a little hard to see. That is, if one didn't have night vision.
To Chat Noir, the small amount of daylight trickling in between dumpsters and piles of broken furniture and other junk was still more than enough. He sprang forward, bounding off a moldy sofa, ricocheting off a wall, then batting hard at the dark butterfly hanging in the air. Stunned, it dropped, and he grabbed it before landing on his heels. He exhaled slowly, crouched low, feeling it flutter against his palms through the strange texture of his black gloves.
"Give it here."
He didn't look up at the superheroine, perched on top of an iron gate at the other end of the alley, several yards away. "Well, well. Look who the cat finally dragged in. Could you tear yourself away from your loving interviewers for once?"
"Give it a rest, kitty," Ladybug scoffed. "When you win, you ham it up in front of the cameras even more than I do. You also want to win. Don't be bitter just because it didn't happen today."
"Didn't it?" Chat Noir lifted his clasped hands, finally sparing her a look. "You missed. I guess the great and wonderful Ladybug isn't as perfect as she claims, huh?"
Ladybug's face flushed slightly, before she shook it off. "I was still going to catch it. I just didn't want to alarm them, that's all. They all thought that I captured it, so—"
"Yeah, yeah. Spare me, alright? We both know you just didn't want to look bad in front of other people." He adjusted his fingers around the struggling wings, frowning. "You've got, what, two dots on your miraculous? You'd better fly away home, Ladybug. Your house is on fire and your children alone."
She frowned. "What?"
"Forget it." He turned his back on her.
"Wait," she said, hopping down from the gate. She spread her hands in a temporary peace offering. "At least give that to me, before you go."
"Why?" he asked. "Got a photographer that wants a picture?"
"Stop being stubborn," she said. "I'm the only one who can purify it, and you know it. Look, I know you're mad. And sure, I'll admit it, you caught it before I got here."
"Oh, you'll admit it here, with no one else around," he said.
"Stop it!" she said, getting frustrated. "You're being a child. We need to get rid of that thing before La Papillonne tries to use it again! I mean, neither of us really won, but it all turned out okay in the end, so I don't see why—"
Chat Noir opened his fingers, holding one of the butterfly's fragile wings between thumb and forefinger. At first she thought he must have crushed it, held too tightly. But then she realized that, no, that was just the way the insect's wings were shaped, looking a little like a broke leaf. It was definitely dark, but more of a dark brown than a black, bands across its rumpled wings beneath two fuzzy antennae.
"Le Sphinx du Peuplier," Chat Noir said, frowning. "The Poplar Hawk-Moth, I think. Not even a real butterfly. I lost the akuma for a while, then thought I found it again, but I've been following the wrong one. If you had just caught it right away instead of showboating—no, if you just hadn't interfered in the first place-!"
Ladybug's frown tightened. "I'll still find it. I'll make it right. I don't make mistakes. If… If you want, you can even come with me to—"
"We've tried that before," he spat. "We end up fighting every time." He let go of the moth, watching it flutter away. "Face it, Ladybug. We are completely opposites. You and I, we will never be friends."
He turned to go. This time, Ladybug didn't stop him. Fine, then. They would race to recover the escaped akuma. She felt the burst of energy as her earrings stopped flashing, and she suddenly detransformed, light peeling away to reveal her school clothes. Deceptively casual, though very expensive, a stylish skirt and blouse and jacket and pumps.
She ran the back of her hand over her eyes, getting a hold of herself before reaching into her bag. Her father kept catching her with cookies and other treats in the little purse, furious with her for breaking her diet. She couldn't exactly explain to him that she wasn't the one eating them, could she? She bent down, breaking a cookie in half and offering it to the little red kwami now sitting on a busted tire. "Here, Tikki. Thank you for your help today. We almost got it."
"Marinette," Tikki said, antennae drooping as she accepted the snack. "I appreciate that you're trying hard. But you really need to be focusing on the akuma in these battles. Every time you get distracted by competing with Chat Noir…"
"I know, I know, I'm sorry," she said, reaching up to smooth her hair back into place. "You can't really blame me, though. He's so infuriating and impossible…" Frustrated, she dug her phone out of her purse and began checking her text messages.
The first one was a picture of her father, Gabriel Agreste, standing in front of a curtain. Backstage, at a fashion show. Pointing to his watch with an angry expression. To show that the fashion show was about to start. In twenty minutes.
"Eep!"
Tikki looked up, startled, as Marinette suddenly scooped her up and began running. "Marinette? What are you-?"
"I'm in so much trouble," she said, fumbling with the phone for a moment before pressing it to her ear. "…Nathalie? Yes. Yes, it's me. Please, can you tell Father that I am almost there? There was, uh, um… a problem with the cab! No, you don't need to send the limo to pick me up!"
She ran down the alley, ducking and dodging, expertly navigating through the labyrinth of back streets. The moment Nathalie finally hung up, she was transforming again, swinging herself up onto the rooftops and back toward the wealthier parts of the city at top speed.
In the trail of dust behind her, something glittered, just for a moment. It hung unseen in the air, then seemed to vanish, downshifting on the light spectrum until it couldn't be seen by anyone anymore.