"Do you know what your problem is, Gabriel Agreste? You don't have a soul."
- Notes scribbled on the margin of a third year history textbook (1991 edition)
###
"It's not here," Chat Noir groaned, running his hands through his hair. "Not here, not at the park, nowhere on the way there, nowhere ."
He still looked around, scanning the library's shelves again . Maybe someone had put the book back somewhere it did not belong. The history shelf, maybe. Adrien had only checked three times. His having missed the book was not totally out of the realm of possibilities.
He checked a fourth time.
After that, he flattened himself on the floor and ran his hand under every shelf and piece of furniture. Just in case. Then, he ran to mr. Damocles' office and rummaged through every drawer, just in case. You never knew. Maybe someone had found the book and given it to a teacher.
Once absolutely sure he had looked everywhere, the young hero checked every classroom. He considered opening everyone's lockers too. He knew for sure the book was not in his .
It was a nightmare.
He had gone through every room of the mansion. He had all but torn his fencing equipment apart. He had studied every inch of the way to the park, and of the park itself.
He did not know where else to look.
Well, he had one idea.
The last time he had seen the book, it had been at the library, right before running off to his fencing lesson. Lila had been with him.
That was a lead.
###
"Prqd,
L ihdu zh duh lq whuuleoh wurxeoh. Wkh slhfh ri mhzhoub ehorqjlqj wr rxu iulhqg C. kdv ehhq vwrohq. Lw zdv hqwluhob pb idxow - L zdv wulfnhg eb wkh vlpsohvw ri glyhuvlrqv - dqg L kdyh ehhq grlqj hyhubwklqj lq pb srzhu wr uhfryhu wkh vwrohq lwhp. Krzhyhu, wkh ohdgv duh vfdufh. Z. dqg L kdyh ehhq orrnlqj hyhubzkhuh, zlwk W.'v khos, wr qr dydlo. L ihdu wurxeoh lv frplqj. Y. pljkw eh qhhghg djdlq.
L zloo nhhs brx lqiruphg ri dqb qhz ghyhorsphqwv. Vkrxog brx khdu derxw wkh lwhp ru iurp C., frqwdfw ph lpphgldwhob."
- Unsigned letter sent to Mona D'Onofrio, March 1990
###
"She is very promising," Fu said, watching a thoughtful Marinette pace in the street underneath them.
"She is ," Tikki confirmed, leaning over the edge of the balcony to observe her older. "Quick with, strength, courage and determination. All of that in spades."
She was proud of Marinette. So very proud.
"And you make a fantastic bald cat from Kowa," the old man added in a teasing tone.
"Won in a tap dance contest and everything," Wayzz chimed in. "That was new."
Tikki pouted a little.
"She does have a tendency to… try to explain her way out of trouble in a… creative fashion," the red Kwami replied. "Some lying, some trickery, a quickness to succumb to jealousy and to overreact. That is true. But those are traits she will grow out off with the proper guidance. She has a good heart."
"I agree with you. Tell me the boy is a good partner. I was counting on him to temper her a little."
Tikki beamed.
"He is an excellent partner. He loves her so much, but he does not let that love get in the way of calling her out when she misbehaves. Also, Plagg never managed to bully him into doing nothing , which has been known to happen."
Fu smiled, breathing in and looking at the sky.
"I have great hopes for those two. They will be among the best heroes we ever saw, have no doubt."
"I have absolutely no doubt," Tikki assured him.
Downstairs, Marinette had leaned against the building's wall and was now lost in thought.
She had listened to the great master's stories about the previous heroes for two hours. She had heard about the true Volpina (the original one, at least), and about the Ladybugs and Coccinelles and Joaninhas of old. She had been told of the dangers her predecessors had faced, of the battles they had fought, of the obstacles they had overcome. She had walked out with a newfound sense of her responsibilities, of the threats she protected the world from - not just Hawk Moth, but dragons and hydras and dark spirits. She understood her purpose better than she ever had.
Yet, for all the stories he had shared, Fu had told her nothing.
He had brushed over the importance of the book, distracting Marinette with tales of sea monsters and kappas and malebranches, so she would not think of the most basic of questions: how had a long lost index of all the miraculous landed into the hands of a teenage boy?
Tikki's expression darkened.
"I have been meaning to ask," she started, flying back inside and waiting for Fu to join her.
The old man followed her, with Wayzz on his shoulder. He closed the balcony door. Tikki hovered in front of him, at her most serious.
"You know who Hawk Moth is, don't you?"
Fu breathed in and clicked his tongue, his expression midway between an enigmatic smile and tired sadness.
"Let's say I have a strong suspicion," he commented.
A strong suspicion. Tikki had strong suspicions of her own. She would even have called them certainties.
" Suspicion, " she repeated, her tone a little cold.
"Did I tell you why I came back to Paris two years ago?"
Wayzz looked a little alarmed, and floated back to get a better look at his master's face. Tikki did not move.
"No," she replied. "I assumed you had a lead about Zarra."
"There is that," Fu murmured. He sighed. "Hawk Moth has not been subtle. Not in the least. He had been trying to get our attention, plastering messages on every wall of every major city of every continent well before he unlocked Nooroo's powers. He wanted to lure us to him, to get in touch, and I ignored him."
Tikki sighed.
"Lila's pendant was very accurate a copy of Volpina's necklace," she noted. "It nearly fooled me. But I could not sense Vixx."
Fu nodded.
"He has been sending out messages in bottles ever since we lost Zarra. He did not just send them, though. He had them mass-produced, sold in every store, hanging from women's necks, printed on teenager's clothes and shoes, displayed on billboards and TV screens all over the world. I doubt he suspected there was no one left to listen but me."
The red Kwami floated down, landing next to the phonograph that had long held her Miraculous, along with those of her brothers and sisters.
"Why did you not get in touch before he enslaved Nooroo?" she exclaimed. "Why? And why give Plagg to his son when Hawk Moth is so set on capturing us both?"
Fu stared at a spot on the floor, giving it his full focus.
"Gabriel was a snake of a boy and grew into a snake of a man," he ended up replying. "I wanted to observe him, to figure out what he wanted from us. I had planned to contact him, but he acted before I could reach out. We all saw how it went."
Tikki digested that. She did not like it, not the slightest bit.
"What about Plagg? " she snapped.
Wayzz intervened at that, darting between his sister and the old man.
"If master Fu is right about this, Plagg is exactly where he should be," the turtle explained. "Where miracles are needed."
###
"Rescue me before I fall into despair."
- A song by The Police
###
It was well past ten when Chat Noir finally landed on the roof of Lila's home.
While he had spent most of his day (in and out of costume) with his new classmate (in and out of costume), at no point had he asked for important information, such as her last name and phone number. That would have been useful.
As things were, he had found her address in her student file, which he had spent a solid hour of searching (it had been hidden in plain sight on mr. Damocles' desk).
When the young hero arrived at Lila's, the first thing he noticed was how big the house was. Not 'Agreste mansion' big, but definitely on the opulent side of large.
The second thing he noticed was that only one light was on.
His heart sank.
It felt familiar.
He jumped down to ground level and circled the place, counting the windows and doors and ensuring there was not a sign of life, save for that one window on the first floor. It was Lila's room. Adrien could tell because heknew , not just because of the loud XY music his classmate was blasting and that you could hear from the other side of the street.
He climbed to a balcony and peeked inside a darkened room. He found a bedroom with a king size bed, beautiful curtains, beautiful drapery, beautiful everything. It was decorated perfectly, but had that distinct absence of clutter that gave away a room not lived in. The bed was freshly made. The pillows looked new.
He moved to another window and discovered a pristine office where the desk was as empty as Nathalie's.
Chat Noir sighed. He checked the rest of the house and found neither inhabitants nor staff.
He returned to Lila's window and tapped it with a claw. He could see the girl in the corner of the room. She was sprawled on a pile of cushions, dejectedly staring at the ceiling.
The superhero poked the window again, then knocked, then told himself maybe untransforming and using the doorbell as Adrien would have been wiser. It was too late, though: Lila had noticed him. The music had stopped.
The teenage girl scowled and walked up to the window, which she opened with deliberate slowness.
She beamed at him.
"Chat Noir! I'm so glad to see you!"
"Hi there. Can I come in?" he asked.
She leaned out of the window and looked around, tense as a bowstring. After a few seconds of careful checking of their surroundings, she blinked and took a step back.
"Ladybug isn't with you?" she asked, relaxing.
"Not tonight. She has her own patrol routes."
Lila lowered her eyes, her shoulders sagging in dejection.
"Good," she murmured. "Good. I wasn't really up for a visit from her today."
Adrien sighed, heart sinking.
"Are you alone? Can I come in?" he asked again, trying to force a smile onto his face.
"My parents will be home soon," she told him. "They are having dinner with Stella Spotlight at the embassy. They could not miss it."
Chat Noir knew the fading superstar that was Stella Spotlight was not about to have a meal with anyone: she was promoting her latest movie in Australia. He knew that because his father a designed her dress for the opening night she was supposed to attend.
"I won't stay long, then."
Lila moved out of the way, keeping her head low and looking at him from under her lashes.
"Not that I mind your visit but… Why are you here? Is something wrong?"
Adrien slipped in, taking in the room's decor. Clearly, Lila liked cushions, the color orange, music that was only pretend music made by a computer and sung by an hologram, and… wind instruments. He spotted two clarinets, an oboe and three flutes. Also, an ocarina, but that one was made of plastic and looked like it was there to decorate her shelves. It was orange too.
He walked to the oboe and took a closer look at it.
"You play music?" he asked.
"Did she send you?" Lila said at the same time.
Chat Noir turned to her. Silence fell, but only for a few seconds.
"Did she?" his classmate added, wrapping her arms around herself and staring at the floor. The rest of her sentence was barely audible. "I'm sure she was worried I would turn into a monster again."
Adrien's stomach twisted in guilt. He had come to rummage through her things and look for his father's book, and suddenly felt like dirt for coming up with that idea to begin with.
"It's not uncommon for me to check on Hawk Moth's victims after they are released," he said, because that was true.
Lila peeked at him, hesitant. Whatever she saw on his face seemed to convince her.
"Then thank you very much," she said, taking two tentative steps towards him. "It was nice of you."
He blushed, embarrassed, and couldn't meet her eyes. A nervous grin spread on his face.
"It's just, you know… I mean. Hm. Y-you know, she really is sorry," he announced. "Over what she did."
For a split-second, Lila went cold as ice. Then, her lips started quivering. She teared up, keeping her eyes wide open so he would not see her crying.
"I don't care that she is," she replied. "It's not g-going to fix things! Y-you don't k-know what she did. You weren't there! It was bad . It was really bad. And n-now Adrien will never talk to me again, and and and I-I really liked him, and he will t-tell everyone and my entire school will hate me because of her."
"Don't cry, don't cry!" he exclaimed, panicking and joining her to put his hands on her shoulders. "For a start, Adrien wouldn't just tell everyone about whatever happened. He wouldn't. I mean, I rescued him a few times by now. He's not the kind."
Lila took a deep, trembling breath.
Chat Noir did the same, if a bit more discretely.
" And she told me what happened. Sort of. Now, I really don't know what was going through her mind, because she's never like that, I swear. It's so unlike her."
"She was jealous , that's what was going through her mind," Lila retorted. "She's in love with Adrien. Don't you know that?"
Chat Noir stilled. His hands fell off her shoulders, slipping down and dropping to his sides.
"I… do," he said.
He had heard Ladybug's scream when Volpina had threatened to drop that illusion of him, and that second, desperate yell when he had thrown his baton at the images. He had seen his partner ready to surrender her earrings. She had frozen while fighting the Mime the first time she had crossed Adrien's path. She had stuttered and blushed and fumbled over her words. She had told him he had his mother's smile.
He was not blind.
"I do," he murmured again. "But sometimes we do silly things when we are jealous. Copycat… Copycat was my fault. I was the one who made him angry, about a girl I liked."
Lila fluttered her eyelashes, causing a lone teardrop to roll down her cheek. She swiped it away as quick as she could.
"What did you do?" she asked.
"I might have told him I was dating the girl he fancied," Chat Noir explained, scratching the back of his neck. "I didn't think that through."
His classmate chuckled. He scowled a little, and that was enough to make her swallow that giggle back.
" Anyway ," he exclaimed, "I felt very bad about it. Still do. I'm sure she does."
Lila's tears came back, and he panicked a little.
"Come on," he murmured, "I… Uh…"
"I'm okay!" the teenage girl announced, perking up, with the fakest smile he had ever seen. "But you should get going. My parents will be here any moment, and you have a city to patrol."
She wanted him to go. He hesitated.
"Can I drop by another day?" he asked.
Lila gave him a subtle assessing glance, which she hid behind a flattered smile.
"Only if you want to," she replied, taking his arm and leading him to the window.
Chat Noir looked around again, listening to the silence of the house around them.
He felt his classmate tense.
"And not because you feel sorry for me," she added, her voice sharp and icy.
"It's not that!" he exclaimed.
She looked away, her anger concealed behind a dejected facade.
"It's not that," he quietly repeated. "I know how it feels to go home to an empty house."
###
Once again, and again, and again, and again - forever and ever and never and everywhere - the question echoed through the void.
"Where are we? Zarra, where are we? What happened?"
Human minds could not process all of time and space at once, so there was no point answering that question. Audrey had already forgotten asking it. Zarra pressed herself closer against the woman's chest; wrapping her fading human hands around her body.
"It's alright," the Kwami said, once again and again and again. "But don't let go of me. Just don't let go of me."
###
Adrien woke up at seven in the morning to a knock on his door, even though he had fifteen minutes left before having to get out of bed to be downstairs in time for breakfast.
There was another knock, then Nathalie tried to talk to him through the door.
"Adrien," she called. "Adrien, are you up?"
"Y-yes. A second, please!"
"Can I come in?"
"Wait, wait!" the boy replied, jumping out of bed and running to the door.
He opened it, trying to focus on Nathalie despite his blurry, gooey eyes.
She cleared her throat.
"You father wants to speak to you immediately," she announced. "He is waiting for you downstairs. Please waste no time getting dressed. The matter seems urgent."
Adrien paled, jolted awake. His legs nearly gave in under him.
The book. He noticed the book is gone.
"I-I-I'll get dressed and join him," he said. "I-I won't be long."
"Good," his father's assistant commented. "I will go tell him that."
She left, closing the door behind her.
The teenager stood there, trembling, until Plagg emerged from under his pillow.
"Lie?" he suggested.
"I can't ," Adrien told him, his voice strangled. "I can't. The office is filled with cameras. I'll be on the footage for sure. You'll be on it." - He noticed what he was saying. - "And that would be wrong anyway. I have to tell him I lost it."
"Are you sure?"
"No. Yes. No. It doesn't matter," Adrien snapped, gathering clothes and trying to shove himself into them.
Minutes later, if not seconds, he was running down the stairs to his father's office. He paused in front of the door, throat clenched. 'His anger will be worse than Hawk Moth's', he had told Plagg. That had not been a figure of speech.
He closed a fist and lifted it to knock on the closed door. His had stopped inches from it. It took all of his courage to tap the door once. He was not sure he would have managed a 'twice', but Gabriel answered the first knock.
"Come in," he snapped.
Adrien did.
He found Gabriel seated at his work table, his hands bridged in front of him. His expression was hard to read. The anger was there - it was - but it did not really show on his face . There was a trembling to his hands, a tension to his shoulders, a hint of something in the atmosphere that made his son want to run away.
"Please sit," the designer said. "It would seem you have a mystery to elucidate."
Adrien froze into place, skin clammy. He had faced monsters. He had fallen from the sky. He had nearly died on dozens of occasions.
He had never been this afraid.
"Sit," his father repeated.
"ImeanttoputitbackIamsorry," the boy blurted out. "IswearImeanttoputitback."
" Sit ," Gabriel yelled.
He collected himself in the blink of an eye, taking one long breath and holding in it. Adrien was halfway through the room before the man could release it. The teenager sat as ordered, sliding on the bench until he was face to face with Gabriel.
"You 'meant to put it back'," his father drawled.
Adrien's spine went as rigid as a rod of steel.
The quiet, patient tone was worse than shouts and open rage. There was more of a sense of danger when Gabriel was this composed. Adrien did not even know what he was scared of. He would lose his school privileges, that was a given, but he had no idea what else to expect.
"I-I-I was… I just w-wanted to take a look at it."
Gabriel sighed.
"I suppose some curiosity was to be expected," he remarked. "It is a book about heroes, and your interest in them is not the best kept secret. From the way you acted around miss Ladybug when she was here on the day our home was attacked, it's clear you are besotted with the girl."
Adrien said nothing. His father studied his face.
"Still," the man continued, "this development is unacceptable."
"Please don't be angry," the teenager murmured.
There was a silence. Adrien tried not to look away as Gabriel's eyes assessed him.
"I am not angry," his father ended up declaring. "I am disappointed that you would not only snoop through my possessions, but also take the liberty of 'borrowing' them. However, the punishment here needs not be excessive. If you give the book back - preferably in the state you found it - I will be lenient."
Adrien closed his eyes to gather his courage then met Gabriel's eyes.
"I. I can't, Father. I don't have it. I don't know where it is."
Something dark flickered on Gabriel's face, something mean and foreign that Adrien had never seen there before, a brand of rage that went beyond any kind of anger his father had ever displayed in his presence. Gabriel could be curt and snappish. He had a temper. Seeing him angry was a common occurrence. But his anger was always closer to exasperation than it was to rage. He never got so furious that you could see his hands tremble and his nerves twitch.
This was new.
Then, all of a sudden, all of that tension vanished.
Gabriel sighed, lowering his forehead against his hands. He straightened up, pinched the bridge of his nose, and put his hands on the table.
"What did you do with it?" he asked. "Did you give it to someone?"
"No. No. I took it to school to read it during lunch break, and when I came home, it was no longer in my bag."
His father stared at his own hands, his expression totally blank.
"I. See," he murmured.
"I'm sorry," his son said. "I kept my bag with me at all times. I don't know what happened."
Gabriel raised a hand to shut him up.
A moment went by.
"You're putting me in quite a difficult position," Gabriel said. "I don't think you realize."
"I'll keep looking. I swear I will. I'll find it. And if I don't, I'll pay you back. I have a saving account with the earnings from my modeling work, don't I?"
Gabriel sighed again, shaking his head.
"No," he said.
"I don't know how long could take, but…"
"Money is not the issue here. Adrien, that book is not mine. It is an invaluable, one of a kind piece of tibetan literature that was loaned to me by a private collector. It is priceless, not because of its inherent value, but because it was not for sale. "
Adrien blanched. He wondered if there was any hope of finding the book. He had not asked Lila, after all. He would have to.
Gabriel pushed a white box towards him. The logo of his "Butterfly" brand was drawn on it in golden letters, above an elegant 'haute joaillerie'. Adrien's father opened the box over a row of accessories. Adrien recognized the first piece of jewelry quickly enough: it was a fox tail pendant, identical to Volpina's. Next to it was a golden comb. Next to the comb was a set of red earrings with black dots, similar to Ladybug's but not exactly identical. The black dots were circled in gold, for a start.
"Miraculous?" Adrien asked.
"Replicas," Gabriel corrected. "They are part of our lower price range selection. They were inspired by the book you 'misplaced'."
"Copied, you mean," his son commented.
"Yes. It was an order of sorts. That collector contacted me to design the whole set for her, in the best materials possible, 'no expense spared', the best quality our goldsmiths and jewelers could manage. However, she had no money and I do not run a charity. As she only wanted the best replicas possible for her collection, rather than unique pieces, we agreed on covering the costs of her order by mass-producing lower grade copies. It proved a sound choice. The designs are very popular."
"For copies," Adrien said.
His father rolled his eyes.
"I can safely say all of the art in that book has been in the public domain for a while, Adrien. And you might want not to lecture me about theft ."
The teenager swallowed his tongue.
"Where did you last see the book?" Gabriel asked.
"At school," his son replied. "In the library, before my fencing lesson."
"Well then. I'll get in touch with mr. Damocles and investigate."
###
"Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my soul!"
- Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
###
