It wasn't supposed to happen that way.
It was just a simple akuma attack. Just like any other.
The Baker, he was simply called, had the ability to turn everything into bread. He was a giant, however, easily towering halfway over Collège Françoise Dupont, and he wielded a giant rolling pin that could flatten everything in his path. The plan was simple—Ladybug would use her Lucky Charm, a bag of flour, and Chat Noir would come in and destroy the giant rolling pin with his Cataclysm. It wasn't like they could just break that thing over their knees and call it a day, after all.
With their usual team effort, they had managed to blind The Baker with the flour and trip him with Ladybug's string. She then hollered at him to use Cataclysm on the akuma's rolling pin.
"Now!" she'd shouted, urgently.
He only did as he was told.
The akumatized item had lain just in front of The Baker's prone form, and he was reaching out. Chat Noir had rushed over with his Cataclysm and smacked it right onto the pin—but he moved so fast that he didn't realize he had also hit a part of the akuma victim's hand that had just landed on it at almost the same time.
The rolling pin then crumbled as the giant man's arm turned dark, and the butterfly fluttered out.
Ladybug had panicked. As the Cataclysm slowly spread through the akuma victim's body, she quickly caught the butterfly and purified it without her usual fanfare.
That was the first time Chat Noir heard "Miraculous Ladybug!" in an intonation that was full of terror and desperation.
He could only stand there as the darkness dissolved to reveal that The Baker had been Mr. Tom Dupain. His classmate's father. Marinette Dupain-Cheng's father. The warm man he once met when he came over to her house, who smiled kindly at him and offered him treats and made a great pie. The bright smiling giant of a man who struck a pose at him while bragging about how he taught his video gaming secrets to his daughter.
He had hit that man with his Cataclysm.
"Please, let it work, please, Tikki, please, please, please," Ladybug had been murmuring desperately, as she held onto the man's darkening hand. The darkness had spread to more than half of his body, but the ladybugs never came to fix him. "Please, please, please…"
"Ladybug?" the man had rasped, and Chat Noir will never forget the sound, "What happened?"
But before Ladybug had the chance to answer, the darkness had taken over his whole body. And those were his last words.
Chat Noir couldn't move or speak. He couldn't breathe. He just stood there behind Ladybug, who cradled and rocked the man whose skin had turned as black as soot and flaked like burnt paper. He waited for the ladybugs to come and create a miracle.
They never came.
Even when their Miraculous beeped to their very last spots, the ladybugs never came.
As their Miraculous beeped their last, Ladybug turned and looked up at him with empty eyes. There was something subdued in them, but somehow Chat Noir knew it wasn't anger or blame towards him. He had expected her to hate him, to blame him, to be angry with him. He had messed up more than he ever had.
But he knew Ladybug. He understood her better than anyone. Better than she thought he did. And he knew Ladybug blamed not him, but herself.
"It's not your fault, Chat Noir," she'd said to him. When his ring beeped in response, she continued monotonously, "You should go."
"But his family—" he'd tried to protest.
He didn't want to see Marinette, not really. He didn't want to see Mrs. Dupain-Cheng. He didn't want to see the broken faces of the warm, happy family he once admired. He didn't want to see them look at him with hate in their eyes. He didn't want to see the result of this.
But he owed it to them. Ladybug may not blame him, but he knew the truth.
He owed it to Marinette to be there at the very least.
But Ladybug shook her head. "I'll take care of it," she'd said, tone even, "go."
He knew he shouldn't have taken that exit. He knew he should've stayed. He owed it to them, he owed it to Marinette. He owed it to Marinette.
His heart screamed at him as he jumped over Paris' rooftops. His guilt yelled at him to turn back around and just be there.
But he was afraid.
He had killed a man.
And he was afraid.
He did not sleep that night.
The next day was a blur.
Adrien had to pretend he had no idea what happened. He had to pretend to be shocked when he was told what happened. He had to pretend it wasn't his fault when he said "I'm sorry" and put a comforting hand on Marinette's shoulder (how dare you, his conscience shrieked at him, how dare you touch her, you have no right to touch her!). He had to pretend he wasn't afraid.
He had to pretend he was Adrien the civilian.
He had to pretend he wasn't Chat Noir the murderer.
The day was a blur, but the moments with Marinette in it were in sharp focus. He saw her but also not entirely. He looked at her but also didn't see her. He couldn't look at her face, he couldn't listen to her voice, but her whole presence shouted at him.
His eyes followed her everywhere. Nino said nothing of it, though maybe it was because he was also focused on Marinette. Nino was worried about Marinette and about Alya and about the Dupain-Chengs.
Teachers told her she could take a day off from school. She declined.
Classmates offered their condolences and sympathies. They gave her hugs and apologies. She thanked them.
Alya stuck close to her, petting her hair and cuddling her. She let her.
Even Plagg snuck out of his bag to drop a chunk of Camembert on her sandwich.
Even Chloe offered her own type of support and comfort.
"I knew that mangy cat was no good," Chloe said loudly in her chair as they waited for their teacher to arrive. "I knew it was only a matter of time before he does something irreparable." She turned her head a little in Marinette's direction, and while her face was schooled into a mask of nonchalance, her eyes betrayed her sympathy.
"He's so useless," she continued smugly when Sabrina nodded her agreement, "I can't believe Ladybug's forced to stick around that murderer. She deserves a better partner."
Adrien suppressed the flinch.
Chloe wasn't wrong. And everyone was right in staying quiet, because it was true. All of it was true.
But Marinette's voice rang out through the silence, clear as a bell. "Stop it, Chloe. It wasn't Chat Noir's fault."
The words echoed in Adrien's head.
'It wasn't Chat Noir's fault.'
'It wasn't Chat Noir's fault.'
'It wasn't Chat Noir's fault.'
Marinette had said them.
Marinette didn't blame him. Somehow, for whatever reason, she didn't blame Chat Noir. But why not? How can she not? How could a person be so kind? She should blame him. She should hate him. He killed her father.
Even Adrien misplaced blame on his father once when his mother disappeared. He knew it wasn't his father's fault but he had done it. It didn't make him feel better but he had done it. How could Marinette not even blame Chat Noir just a little bit? How could she be so sure—sure enough to defend him?
How could he let a wonderful person like her suffer this way?
His heart swelled with an amalgamation of emotion. He couldn't even explain what he was feeling right then and there. It was a mix of anything and everything and it was all so overwhelming…
…that he didn't notice he had fled the classroom until he was halfway down the stairs to the courtyard.
Alya approached him that afternoon to ask for a favor.
"I know this is a weird thing to ask someone," she said, not really looking at him, "but I just really want to lift her spirits."
She didn't have to say who it was, and Adrien knew.
"What can I do?" he asked, because really, what can he do? What can Adrien do for the Marinette who lost her father? They weren't even friends, not really. He called her his friend but today he realized he wasn't even anywhere near that close to her.
Alya lifted her head and looked him straight in the eyes. "Don't ask why, but can you just—I know this is weird but—" she faltered, looking away "—honestly, I don't even know if this is the right time but…" she trailed off then, unsurely.
"Alya, if there's anything I can do for her, let me do it," he said sincerely, encouraging her to go on.
Her brown eyes regarded him with relief and appreciation, and his words urged her to continue, "Just—today—can you give her a hug?"
Adrien froze.
Alya said not to ask why, so he didn't. But what can a hug from him do?
He wanted to say no. He wanted to decline. He wanted to tell her that he couldn't. He couldn't touch her, let alone hug her. He had no right. He can't touch her, he has no right.
But he was Adrien the civilian, and Adrien the civilian had nothing to do with anything. Alya was counting on him, and she believed it would lift Marinette's spirits.
So he smiled. He smiled and he casually said, "will do, Alya." He smiled as she grinned at him and squealed her thanks. He smiled as she turned and left.
He smiled as his heart ached because he had no right but he said yes because he was greedy and a terrible person and he had no right. Because he knew he took that easy exit, that easy excuse again, just like he did with Ladybug.
He had no right but he wanted to.
He hugged Marinette after school.
It took her by surprise. She was stiff against him at first, but when he murmured his apologies in her ear, she began to relax and put her arms around him.
"I'm sorry, Marinette," he whispered again, almost desperately.
"Thank you, Adrien," she replied, and for the first time he noticed that her voice was hoarse. He felt her body shudder. He felt the wetness of her tears on his shirt. He felt a rupture in his very soul.
Oh god, what has he done?
He pulled her closer to him, hugged her as tight as he could. He buried his face in her hair and apologized again. She gave a meek whimper at the tightness of his hold, but didn't let go.
She smelled of bread. She smelled of cookies and butter. She smelled of her home.
She smelled of the man he had killed. She smelled of the home he had broken.
He dared to touch her. He, who destroyed her home, dared to hold her. He'd taken something from her that he could never give back, now he was taking this. She didn't know she was seeking comfort from her father's killer. It was disgusting. He was disgusting.
But he couldn't let her go. She needed this and he would give it to her. If he could give all of himself to her, he would.
He apologized once more and let his tears flow.
A month passed and life went on. Every day he dreaded an akuma attack, where he has to don his Chat Noir armor and go out into the world. He never feared being Chat Noir before, but as the days passed, the only way he was able to sleep at night was to separate himself from Chat Noir.
That, and to think about Marinette. The Marinette he knew.
She had changed. Of course she did. And by reflection, everyone around her changed too.
Alya rarely mentioned the Ladyblog anymore, and never Chat Noir. Chloe was just a little bit kinder, in her own way. Nino never failed to think of up of places and things to do every day with them as a group. Everyone treated her much gentler than before, and smiled at her brighter than before.
And Adrien, even though he knew he had no right, became closer to her. It wasn't for her comfort, not really. It was more for him.
Because he remembered the way Marinette was before he took from her.
Marinette, his bright, creative classmate. Shy but headstrong, but always with a smile for him.
He was never going to see that smile again, he knew. Not in the same way, anyway.
Adrien would never be able to see Marinette smile at him in the same light again. Because he knew he didn't deserve it. Every smile he'd receive from her from then on would be tainted by the thought that she didn't know she was smiling at her father's killer. She shouldn't smile at him at all. He didn't deserve it.
But he would tell himself, no, it was Chat Noir who didn't deserve it. He was Adrien the civilian. He was allowed to receive her smiles.
The comfort of that separation somehow lulls him to sleep every night since.
Two years passed.
Ladybug and Chat Noir defeated akuma after akuma. Over time, he got used to becoming Chat Noir again. His need to perform his duties distracted him from most things, and he welcomed the distraction.
Ladybug was different, yet the same. He could tell something had changed in her that day, but expertly hid it under her mask, just as he did.
Things were rocky with their partnership for a while, but over time they grew past it and were able to work as a unit again. They never talked about the incident. It was the elephant in the room, but they painted it to blend in with the furniture so they could ignore it easier.
Nobody blamed Chat Noir. At least, nobody outright said it. But people had become more cautious around him, and although he had loyal fans, he also had avid detractors.
He didn't blame them.
In those two years, Chat Noir swung by Marinette's sometimes.
The bakery remained open. They had new bakers; an old man named Antoine, who was sweet and kind and always baked Marinette an extra batch of cookies to share with the class, and a young apprentice named Ethan, who was only a little bit older than them and dreamed of having his own bakery someday.
Whenever he had time, Chat Noir would watch over the bakery until they closed, because he wanted to make sure Marinette didn't lose anything or anyone else.
He would watch when the two bakers would leave and up until Marinette and her mother closed everything up.
But one night, he didn't expect that he would be watching the young apprentice Ethan kiss Marinette outside the bakery door.
He didn't expect the jealousy that surged through him. He didn't expect the urge to pull Ethan off her and toss him in the Seine. He didn't expect the want to cover her lips with his own to undo what Ethan had done.
Chat Noir had turned and left before his thoughts turned into actions. He had no right to feel this way. He had no right to want such a thing from her.
Adrien kissed her the next day.
Marinette had spluttered and turned red and ran away from him.
He took from her again. He was always taking from her, wasn't he?
Was he always such a disgusting person?
"I love you."
Marinette told him later that day.
"I've always loved you. I didn't mean to, uh, run when you kissed me but I…"
Adrien could only stare at her. Wonderful, beautiful, amazing Marinette, who could have any man in the world, loved him. This kind, selfless girl with the heart of gold and a smile made of sunshine loved him. Marinette, the girl whose life he changed because he was bad luck and destruction, loved him.
Did he love her? He wasn't sure. Two years ago he would've been sure about his feelings. He would've been sure that he loved Ladybug and no one else. He would've rejected Marinette and went on with his life. But things had changed. He didn't even know if he loved anyone. He didn't know if he could anymore or even if he was allowed to.
He couldn't love her. She deserved better. She deserved more than him. She deserved more than someone who kept taking; she deserved someone who could give everything to her. She deserved better than a killer like himself.
But he grabbed her face into his hands and dared to kissed her again.
He was a disgusting, terrible human being. He had no right to her love. She didn't know he was Chat Noir the murderer, who took her father. She only knew he was Adrien the civilian, who could do no wrong. He was terrible. He should stop. He should let her down easy and let her move on to find the love she truly deserved.
But he didn't stop. He kissed her, and he kissed her, and he kissed her. His heart shattered and rebuilt itself each time, but he couldn't stop.
He was greedy and disgusting and he was taking from her again.
But as he tasted the salt of his own tears from their joined lips, and felt the want and happiness she exuded from his kisses, he realized it didn't matter to her. Because she didn't know, and would never know, that he wasn't who she thought he was. So he vowed that from that day onward that he would pretend to be that person who deserved her. He would give her anything and everything she could ever want. He would do anything she asked him to.
He knew he would never be that person who deserved her. But he could pretend to be.
If it was Adrien the civilian she wanted, then he would give him to her. For as long as she wanted him, he would give himself to her.
He owed it to her.
Every day after that, Marinette gave him lots of smiles.
They were all beautiful and made every day bright and wonderful.
And it hurt Adrien to think that one day she would stop giving them to him. That one day she would see through his pretenses and discover the disgusting, dishonest person he truly was underneath. That one day she would find out that he could kill her father and still look at her in the eye and dare to touch her.
It would break her heart. And he didn't want to see that. He didn't want anything else of Marinette's to break.
She can never know the truth.