Promises From the Ash Filled Night

The streetlamp was like ice against her back, the frigid air of winter biting at her skin trough her suit and numbing her fingers. She tilted her head up towards the sky, gently resting her head against the metal pole. The bruises that covered the back of her head cried out in protest, but not a single muscle on her face would have given it away. Silently she watched as ash fell from the darkened sky like pale, grey snowflakes that drowned away all the sounds of the city, so that all that filled her ears was muffled silence and the uneven sound of her own labored breathing.

Chat Noir rested against the opposite side of the streetlamp, hand clutched in hers. "My lady… your hand, it's cold." He whispered, in a voice soft as the puffs of mist from their breath, the pain in it reaching deep into the depths of her heart, and wrenching at the strings. She squeezed his hand, tears running out of the corner of her eyelids. Stupid… How could he still worry for her sake, when it was him whose hold on the world was slipping…

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine…" She whispered back, a small crack in her voice catching on the coattail of her sentence. How despicable she truly was… to keep lying to him even now, after everything he'd done, all the blows he'd taken for her sake. He gave up his future to keep her safety, and all she had to offer him in return was a pocket full of lies.

"Hey." He gripped her hand in return, and she had to choke back a sob. "Promise me something, will you…?"

"Of course." She said with some difficulty, as a lump had formed in her throat. "What is it?"

"Don't let go of my hand… please." He said.

"I-I promise…" She replied in a shaky voice. Tears blurred her vision, spilling over onto her cheeks as she attempted to blink them away, but they wouldn't stop. God damn it, why wouldn't they stop?

"Are you crying?"

"N-no." She responded, angrily wiping away the tears with her arm. Chat let out a wheezing chuckle.

"Please don't cry, my lady." He rasped, his voice fading quietly into the ash and smoke filled night. "We'll meet again, I promise…" And in that moment, the streetlamp extinguished, leaving her alone in the dark as she clutched her partner's cold, limp hand. He was gone.

"Goodbye…" She whispered into the now empty night, and closed her eyes, never to open them again.


Somewhere deep in the heart of Paris, a small child, not a day for this world, began to cry. The mother, a small woman with black hair, held her close, calmly shushing her as the father, a rather large, brown haired man stood nearby.

"She's beautiful." A nurse said, stopping to give the child a tiny wave. "Have you decided what you're going to name her?"

"Marinette." The black haired woman replied. "We're going to name her Marinette."


"Marinette!" The shout dragged her suddenly and violently back into reality in much the same manner as a bucket of ice water being dumped over her head would have, Marinette jumped back with a deafening shriek, and flailing of limbs. The latter of which, the person Marinette could now see was Alya had expertly ducked out of the range of. She had her arms folded across her chest and was frowning. "Honestly! Were you even listening to me at all?"

"Uh- sorry, what were you saying?" Marinette replied sheepishly. Alya rolled her eyes and gave an exasperated sigh.

"Ladybug, that new statue! I think I might've found another connection!"

"Who?" Alya buried her face in her hand.

"Ladybug! You know, the heroine who battled evil in the streets of Paris, but mysteriously vanished about fifteen years ago?" She explained, punctuating her sentence with animated hand gestures.

"Yeah? What about her?"

"I have a hunch, that her and the lady in that statue they installed recently, are the same person."

"Sounds more like a conspiracy theory to me." Marinette remarked, the corner of her mouth tilted upwards into a playful smirk.

"Oh really now... Well then take a look at this." Alya whipped out her phone, presumably to present her with some 'proof', only in that exact moment someone rounded the corner, and crashed directly into her. Her phone flew out of her hand, landing face down on the tiled floor. Marinette reached down to grab it before somebody stepped on it, except someone else's hand was already there, and she had grabbed it instead.

A jolt of familiarity shot through her, travelling up her arm like an electric shock. Time moved slowly as she tilted her head sideways, seemingly freezing completely as she locked eyes with the most gorgeous blond haired boy she'd ever laid eyes upon. His eyes were a stunning green, of a brighter shade than she'd ever seen in her life, like a French meadow waving just beyond his eyes. For what felt like eons she stood there, lost in the vague feeling that she'd seen them before, sometime long, long ago.

Her mind finally whirred back to into motion, and she snapped her arm backwards, time proceeding to tumble forward again at normal speed. She stood straight up again, perhaps a little faster than necessary, and watched as he handed Alya her phone. "Sorry." He apologized, rubbing the back of his head, ruffling his golden blond hair in the most impossibly perfect way ever. "I should have paid more attention. It's not scratched I hope."

"Doesn't look like it." Alya replied, giving her phone a quick examination before tucking it back in her pocket. "I'm Alya by the way, and this," she gestured at Marinette, who quickly shut her mouth as she realized that it was hanging open, "is Marinette." Marinette pasted an unnaturally wide grin on her face and waved. "You are?"

"Adrien." He replied. "It was nice meeting you both. I'll see you around maybe." And with a small wave of his hand, he departed. Alya smiled and waved back.

"What the heck was that?!" She hissed as soon as he was out of earshot.

"What was what?" Marinette asked, still absent-mindedly waving at the now empty space in front of her. Alya grabbed her hand and pushed it downwards.

"You were staring at him harder than the peas in your lunch!"

"I was?" The blood drained from Marinette's face. She slapped her hands against both her cheeks. "Oh god do you think he noticed?!"

"Oh I see now. I think I know what's going on here." A knowing smile crept onto Alya's face as she folded her arms across her chest. "You like him don't you?"

"What?! Of course not. What are you crazy or something?" Alya's eyebrows sprung upwards. There was a pause. Marinette sighed in defeat. "Okay, maybe just a little." She said, holding up her thumb and index finger in demonstration. Alya laughed.

"Whatever. Come on, we're going to be late for class." She said, grabbing Marinette's hand and practically dragging her away. Marinette glanced over her shoulder. Had she only been imagining it? The familiar warmth of his hand, the serene calmness of his green eyes… Surely she'd experienced them both before, but when, she could not remember. Perhaps they were simply destined to meet. She almost laughed out loud at the idea, but somehow it felt as though it were true. Smiling silently to herself, she faced forward again. She liked that idea, she liked it a lot.