A dark alleyway cloaks two heroes in darkness. As Chat Noir holds Ladybug in his arms, he doesn't feel blood soaking through her suit. In fact, there's barely any blood at all. This fills our feline hero with false hope. Something to cling on for dear life as his own personal hero does exactly that.
The young woman- the little girl has always been independent. Even so, she clutches to her partner's shoulders as her own tremble. Ladybug can't recall ever being in this much pain. She now knows what a 10 on the doctor's pain scale feels like. Her eyes are open, yet she can't tell if Chat is running or if he's settled down. Her head is spinning, and she wants to cry but she can't. Ladybug can barely breath. A sob would be too painful.
There's so much to say and she wants to see her parents. Guilt settles into her stomach, almost as painful as the wounds. They never knew the danger she put herself in everyday, and it was going to steal her away from them.
A loud beeping in her ear interrupts her thoughts.
Chat shuts his eyes as his partner's Miraculous powers down. Dozens of onlookers and victims of the akuma attack crowd around them, but neither of them seem to notice. Ladybug, now Marinette, can hardly see. She barely hears anything, aside from the unsteady and too-slow beats of her heart. Chat is too focused listening for an ambulance and whispering apologies and reassurances to her.
"I'm sorry."
This time, it's Ladybug's words.
...
Adrien doesn't return to school for a week, despite his disgruntled caretaker and father. Once he does, he discovers his seat wasn't the only one gathering dust. His heart sinks, the final puzzle piece popping into place.
Just like that, the mystery of Ladybug has been solved.
It makes sense, in retrospect. Under different circumstances, he would have felt like an idiot. As things are, he feels nothing but absolute misery. The shy fashion student who sat behind him. The baker's daughter. The soup chef's niece. The video game champion. The beautiful, sweet girl who always smelled of frosting, that Adrien was only just getting to know. Not only had Ladybug died, but Marinette Dupain-Cheng had died with her.
He turns in his desk chair mid-lecture, jaw clenched to keep himself from crying.
"I'm sorry."
This time, it's Adrien's words.